Aesthetics and Theurgy in Byzantium 1614513279, 9781614513278

Table of contents :
Introduction: Byzantine Aesthetics
Theurgy and Aesthetics in Dionysios the Areopagite
Nikephoros Chumnos’ Treatise On Matter
Proklos and Plethon on Beauty
Toward a self-determined and emotional gaze: Agathias and the icon of the Archangel Michael
Book and Image in Byzantine Christianity: Polemics or Communication?
Transcendent Exemplarism and Immanent Realism in the Philosophical Work of John of Damaskos
‘Fire Walk With Me’: an attempt at an interpretation of Theurgy and its Aesthetics
Contribution of Church Slavonic Translations to Understanding of Byzantine Anti-Iconoclast Polemics (The Case of the Letter of the Three Patriarchs to Theophilos)
Historical Memory of Byzantine Iconoclasm in the 14th c.: the Case of Nikephoros Gregoras and Philotheos Kokkinos
Index

Citation preview

Aesthetics and Theurgy in Byzantium

Byzantinisches Archiv Begründet von Karl Krumbacher Als Ergänzung zur Byzantinischen Zeitschrift herausgegeben von Albrecht Berger Band 25

De Gruyter

Aesthetics and Theurgy in Byzantium

Edited by Sergei Mariev and Wiebke-Marie Stock

De Gruyter

ISBN 978-1-61451-327-8 e-ISBN 978-1-61451-261-5 ISSN 1864-9785

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available in the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2013 Walter de Gruyter Inc., Boston/Berlin Printing: Hubert & Co. GmbH und Co. KG, Göttingen ∞ Printed on acid-free paper Printed in Germany www.degruyter.com

Acknowledgments

The present volume assembles the papers presented at the round table “Aesthetics and Theurgy in Byzantium” at the 22nd Congress of Byzantine Studies, which took place in Sofia, Bulgaria, in August 2011. In the first place, I would like to express my gratitude to the Association Internationale des Études Byzantines (AIEB) and the organizers of the congress for including this round table in the program. I would also like to thank the Deutsche Arbeitsgemeinschaft zur Förderung Byzantinischer Studien (DAFBS), the Institute of Byzantine Studies at the Ludwig-Maximilians-University of Munich and the Münchner Universitätsgesellschaft (Verein der Freunde und Förderer der Universität München e.V.) for both academic and financial support they provided. My special thanks are due to all the participants of the round table and the contributors to the present volume. I owe a debt of gratitude to Prof. Dr. Albrecht Berger both in his capacity as the President of the Deutsche Arbeitsgemeinschaft zur Förderung Byzantinischer Studien (DAFBS), for all the guidance and support he provided in the process of organizing this round table, and as the Director of the series Byzantinisches Archiv, for accepting the volume into this series. Special thanks are due to Dr. Sabine Vogt, Michiel Klein-Swormink, Florian Ruppenstein, Emily Hough and all the other staff members of the publishing house De Gruyter who have accompanied this book through the publication process with so much dedication and skill. I am especially grateful to Dr. Philip Rance for his scholarly expertise but also for his exactness and patience in correcting several contributions in the present volume. Last but not least, I would like to mention Dr. Wiebke-Marie Stock, who graciously accepted my invitation not only to co-organize this round table in Sofia, but also to undertake the arduous task of co-editing the proceedings after the congress. It was through her participation in the work of the round table that the original topic of Aesthetics in Byzantium was enhanced by a ‘theurgic’ perspective, as it was thanks to her effort as a co-editor that the volume has acquired some valuable contributions on this subject.

Munich, June 2013

Sergei Mariev

Contents Introduction: Byzantine Aesthetics  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   1 Sergei Mariev Theurgy and Aesthetics in Dionysios the Areopagite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  13 Wiebke-Marie Stock Nikephoros Chumnos’ Treatise On Matter . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  31 Monica Marchetto Proklos and Plethon on Beauty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  57 Sergei Mariev Toward a self-determined and emotional gaze: Agathias and the icon of the Archangel Michael . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  75 Aglae Pizzone Book and Image in Byzantine Christianity: Polemics or Communication? . . . .  105 Barbara Crostini Transcendent Exemplarism and Immanent Realism in the Philosophical Work of John of Damaskos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  127 Alberto del Campo Echevarría ‘Fire Walk With Me’: an attempt at an interpretation of Theurgy and its Aesthetics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  143 Lutz Bergemann Contribution of Church Slavonic Translations to Understanding of Byzantine Anti-Iconoclast Polemics (The Case of the Letter of the Three Patriarchs to Theophilos) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199 Dmitry Afinogenov Historical Memory of Byzantine Iconoclasm in the 14th c.: the Case of Nikephoros Gregoras and Philotheos Kokkinos . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  205 Lev Lukhovitskij Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  235

Introduction Byzantine Aesthetics Sergei Mariev

The first comprehensive work dedicated to the history of aesthetics during the Middle Ages was B’s Études d’esthétique médiévale.1 Even though this monumental work was preceded by a large number of minor studies dedicated to certain specific issues, it is generally acknowledged that “B’s study established the subject as a legitimate field of inquiry and launched a wave of research that continues to this day.”2 Some of the most important contributions to the study of medieval aesthetics in the years following this publication were made by A,3 T4 and E.5 This list of major contributions to the subject would be incomplete without B.6 1

2 3 4

5

6

E. de B. Études d’esthétique médiévale. Vol. 1–3. Brügge, 1946. This book is also available in several translations: E. de B. The Esthetics of the Middle Ages, translated by Eileen B. Hennessy. New York, 1969 and E. de B. Estudios de estetica medieval. Biblioteca hispanica de filosofia. Madrid, 1958. M. C. Aesthetics. In: Handbook of medieval studies: terms - methods - trends. Ed. by A. C. 2010, 1421–1429, 1429. R. A. Die Theorie des Schönen im Mittelalter. Köln, 1982 and R. A. La critica d’arte nel pensiero medioevale. Milano, 1961. W. T. Historia estetyki. Wrocław, 1960–1967. This work is available in a variety of translations: W. T. History of aesthetics. The Hague, 1970–1974, W. T. Geschichte der Ästhetik. Basel, 1979–1986. Cf. also his W. T. Dzieje sze´sciu poj˛e´c: sztuka, pi˛ekno, forma, twórczo´s´c, odtwórczo´s´c, przez˙ycie estetyczne. Warszawa, 1975, translated into, among other languages, English: W. T. A history of six ideas: an essay in aesthetics. The Hague, 1980, German: W. T. Geschichte der sechs Begriffe: Kunst, Schönheit, Form, Kreativität, Mimesis, ästhetisches Erlebnis. Frankfurt am Main, 2003, and Italian: W. T. Storia di sei idee: l’arte il bello la forma la creatività l’imitazione l’esperienza estetica. 5th ed. Palermo, 2004. Cf. also W. T. The Great Theory of Beauty and Its Decline. The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 31.2 (1972), 165–180. Cf. U. E. Sviluppo dell’estetica medievale. In: Momenti e problemi di storia dell’estetica. Milano, 1959, 116–229, translated into English as U. E. Art and beauty in the Middle Ages. New Haven, 1986, cf. also the German translation U. E. Kunst und Schönheit im Mittelalter. Darmstadt, 2002. Some of his other publications dedicated to the subject include his early work U. E. Il problema estetico in Tommaso d’Aquino. Milano, 1970. H. U. von B. Herrlichkeit: eine theologische Ästhetik. Einsiedeln, 1961–1969.

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Introduction

Most of these works are dedicated to the history of aesthetics in the Latin West and pay very little, if any, attention to Byzantium.7 The only two scholars that have devoted an entire monograph to the subject are M8 and B .9 Taking into consideration that the adjective “aesthetic” was introduced in the 18th century by Alexander Gottlieb Baumgarten, who used it in reference to a specific kind of knowledge (cognitio sensitiva), which he identified as knowledge of the beautiful, and named ‘aesthetics’ the branch of philosophy which concerned with this sphere, it must be admitted that most of the works mentioned above speak of aesthetics in an extended sense of the word. In an attempt to recapitulate a general sense in which the term aesthetics has been frequently applied to the Middle Ages, or, more broadly, to any period preceding the 18th century, H remarked that the word ‘aesthetics’ in these works “means the theoretical consideration of the phaenomenon ‘beauty’, with or without the consideration of the fine arts, including poetry as well as their explicit or implicit self-understanding”.10 This remark not only identifies two main areas of interest on which research in the history of aesthetics has focused in the 20th century (i.e. on the one hand, metaphysical theory, most frequently the Neoplatonic theory of beauty in the broad sense of the word and its various transformations in a 7

8 9

10

Only T, History of aesthetics, see n. 4, vol. 2, 1–45 dedicates an entire chapter of his work to the Byzantine East. The other works limit themselves to mentioning a few prominent Byzantine names, such as Ps.-Dionysios the Areopagite or Maximos Homologetes. G. M. Byzantine Aesthetics. London, 1963. Only a few of Bs books are available in translation, cf. V. V. B. L’Estetica bizantina: problemi teorici. [Galatina], 1983. The most important publications in Russian are: V. V. B. Малая история византийской эстетики. Киев, 1991 and V. V. B. Византийская эстетика. Москва, 1977. Cf. W. H. Gab es eine mittelalterliche Ästhetik aus platonischer Tradition? In: Neuplatonismus und Ästhetik: zur Transformationsgeschichte des Schönen. Ed. by V. O L. Berlin, 2007, 19–42, 19:“Wenn man trotzdem von Ästhetik im Mittelalter sprechen will und auch immer wieder gesprochen hat, muss man einen erweiterten Begriff verwenden und unter Ästhetik allgemein die theoretische Beschäftigung mit dem Phänomen des Schönen verstehen, unter Vernachlässigung wie unter Einbeziehung der schönen Künste, einschließlich der Dichtung, sowie deren explizitem und implizitem Selbstverständnis.” His remarks explicitly refer to B, Études d’esthétique médiévale, see n. 1, A, Die Theorie des Schönen im Mittelalter, see n. 3 and T, History of aesthetics, see n. 4, vol. II: Medieval Aesthetics, but are equally true of the approach chosen by M, Byzantine Aesthetics, see n. 8, which is in fact an attempt to write a history of Byzantine art while making at the same time references to a variety of theoretical discourses of the time (the Neoplatonic theory of the beautiful, but also mathematics, colour symbolism etc.). The aesthetics of B operate with a different concept. In the preface, B, Малая история византийской эстетики, see n. 9 defines the “sphere of the aesthetical” as the summa of the non-utilitarian (‘не утилитарные’) relations between man and the world which lead to spiritual enjoyment (‘духовное наслаждение’). Obviously such a broad definition of ‘the aesthetical’ leads B to write a cultural history of Byzantine civilization with a strong emphasis on Byzantine spirituality.

Byzantine Aesthetics



Christian context, from Ps.-Dionysios the Areopagite to Scholasticism and, on the other hand, art and literature), but also, and more importantly, – questions once again the validity of a straightforward connection between these two areas, which is often implicitly or explicitly assumed by students of medieval aesthetics. It is in fact these overly hasty and indiscriminating attempts at blending together or superimposing contemporary theoretical discourses over the actual artistic objects, while at the same time failing to do justice to either, that most frequently trigger the negative criticism that is so detrimental to the image of medieval aesthetics. Well known is the negative judgement of B, who pointed out significant deficiencies in G’s interpretation of Plotinos and questioned at the same time the connection between Neoplatonic philosophy and Early Byzantine art which this scholar had postulated.11 In a different context C once even wrote that “Scholasticism produced no poetics and no theory of art. Hence an attempt to extract an aesthetics of literature and the fine arts from it is senseless and profitless, no matter how often it may be made by historians of art and literature.”12 It is not surprising, though, that looking for simple ‘replicas’ of post-18th-century aesthetic theories in the Middle Ages, especially at the intersection of Neoplatonic or Christian theories of beauty and works of art or literary texts lead to insignificant or negligible results, because such attempts not only try to force some preeminently ‘modern’ concerns upon material from a different epoch but also quite frequently fail to grasp properly the specificity of both the theoretical discourse under consideration and the particular conditions that determined production and reception of ‘art’ and literary texts in the Middle Ages. This does not mean that the Middle Ages had no aesthetics. On the contrary, the philosophy, theology, literature and art of the Middle Ages not only reveal profound sensitivity to genuinely aesthetic issues, but also develop questions that – judging even by the post-18th-century standards – can be characterized as aesthetic theories. These theories, however, do not constitute a single definite ‘discipline’ 11

12

Cf. W. B. Denken des Einen: Studien zur neuplatonischen Philosophie und ihrer Wirkungsgeschichte. Frankfurt am Main, 1985, 93, note 56: “ [. . . ] ein Versuch, der in der Erörterung von Plotins Theoremen dürftig ist und der zudem für deren reale Verbindung zur byzantinischen Kunst einen Beweis schuldig bleibt.” The criticism targets A. G. Plotin et les origines de l’esthétique médiévale. Cahiers Archéologiques 1 (1946), 15–34. In a footnote he elaborated further: “When Scholasticism speaks of beauty, the word is used to indicate an attribute of God. The metaphysics of beauty (e.g. Plotinus) and theories of art have nothing whatever to do with each other. ‘Modern’ man immeasurably overvalues art because he has lost the sense of intelligible beauty that Neo-Platonism and the Middle Ages possessed. [. . . ] Here a beauty is meant of which aesthetics knows nothing.”E. R. C. European literature and the Latin Middle Ages (translated from the German by Willard R. Trask). Princeton, N.J., 1973, 224 and note 20. The original title: E. R. C. Europäische Literatur und lateinisches Mittelalter. Bern, 1948, 229 and note 1.

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Introduction

or field of inquiry but develop in a number of different philosophical, theological, literary and artistic contexts. Neoplatonic philosophy is one important context in this regard: the metaphysical theory which was developed by the Neoplatonic philosophers of Late Antiquity and the Early Byzantine period provided important theoretical foundations for the development of a number of different theories that are of crucial importance for the history of aesthetics. The theory of beauty was one of these developments. Its foundations had already been laid in the Platonic dialogues, especially in the Symposion, but it was not until Plotinos and especially Proklos that the beautiful was precisely distinguished from the good.13 However, Plotinos and Proklos also laid theoretical foundations for what can be properly called the Neoplatonic aesthetics of art and literature. Well known and much studied is the Plotinian transformation of the Platonic theory of mimesis and in particular its interest for art.14 In the famous example which is found in the introductory sections of Ennead V.8 – the general scope of this Ennead is an introduction to the intelligible beauty, i.e. to the beauty of form insofar as “it is not some property of form, but is form itself as the unity of divine intellect and its object”15 – Plotinos questions the provenance of the beauty of the statue of Zeus by Phidias and concludes that it does not derive from any 13 14

15

On the distinction between the beautiful and the good in Proklos, cf. the article by S. Mariev in the present volume, esp. p. 62. Some of the most recent studies include: C. V. La dimensione estetica nel pensiero di Plotino: proposte per una nuova lettura dei trattati Sul bello e Sul bello intelligibile. Napoli, 2009 S. B. Antike Ästhetik: eine Einführung in die Prinzipien des Schönen. München, 2006, chap. “Die Ästhetik Plotins”, p. 177–192; F. G B. Plotino y la fenomenología de la belleza. Anales del Seminario de Historia de la Filosofia 22 (2005), 7–28; M. F. Beauté et métaphysique chez Plotin: le rôle du ’Logos venu des dieux. In: Logos et langage chez Plotin et avant Plotin. Ed. by M. F. 2003, 301–313; W. B. Das wahre Selbst: Studien zu Plotins Begriff des Geistes und des Einen. Frankfurt am Main, 2001, chap 3.1 “Geist ist Schönheit: κάλλος νοητόν”, p. 53–70; S. S-G. Le Principe Du Beau Chez Plotin: Réflexions sur “Enneas” VI.7.32 et 33. Phronesis 45.1 (2000), 38–63; M. R. M. Plotinus on body and beauty: society, philosophy and religion in third-century Rome. Oxford, 1999; J.-M. N. Action, contemplation et intériorité dans la pensée du beau chez Plotin. Dioti 4 (1998), 63–74; R. P. M. La teoria del arte en Plotino. Helmantica: Revista de filologia clásica y hebrea 47.142–143 (1996), 27–57; D. S. Plotino: Sul Bello, Enneade I, 6. Intr., trad. e commento. Università degli Studi di Padova, Dipartimento di Scienze dell’Antichità. Padova, 1995; D. J. O’M. Plotinus: an introduction to the Enneads. Oxford, 1993, chap. 9 “Beauty”, p. 88–99; C. G. Verità ed arte nel trattato "Sul bello intelligibile" di Plotino. Rivista di estetica 37 (1991), 13–38; P. M. Plotin: du Beau; Ennéades I 6 et V 8. Préface, traduction et commentaires. Paris, 1991; A. A. The Notion of Beauty in Plotinus and Hegel. Φιλοσοφία 21–22 (1991–92), 341–348; G. M. G. Plotinus and Byzantine Aesthetics. The Modern Schoolman 66 (1989), 275–284. Cf. O’M, see n. 14, 96.

Byzantine Aesthetics

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model perceived by the senses but reveals what Zeus would look like if he wanted to make himself visible,16 thus stating that the artist is not a mere imitator of nature and thus three steps away from the truth, but is capable of having his own direct access to the intelligible realm. This view positively reevaluates the role of the artist and of the art in their capacity to conduct one to an understanding of truth, which Plato had vehemently denied, and at the same time demonstrates that Neoplatonic metaphysics was able to formulate theories that explicitly address questions of artistic production. With regard to literature, as the research by C and S, for instance, has demonstrated, Proklos is intent on demonstrating that “both Homer and Plato may be revealed to us as contemplating the divine world with understanding and knowledge, to be teaching, both of them, the same doctrines about identical matters, to have proceeded from one God and to be participating in the same chain of being, both of them expounders of the same truth concerning reality.”17 In support of this thesis Proklos and a number of later Neoplatonic philosophers develop a literary theory which operates with the notion of symbolic mimesis and allows the consideration of fictional literary texts as important aids to philosophy.18 The development of a specific theory of art and literature in the Neoplatonic context is paralleled by yet another development, namely the theurgic practices. Theurgy is based on the theory of the universal sympatheia of the sensible and intelligible realms. Consequently, that which is accessible to sense perception becomes an effective symbol (σύμβολον, σύνθημα) of the intelligible and thus opens another way of ascent towards the intelligible, which is very similar to the way provided by the objects created by an artist or by a fictional literary text. “It is not thought (ἔννοια) that links the theurgists with the gods [. . . ] Without intellectual effort on our part the tokens (συνθήματα) by their own virtue accomplish their proper work,” wrote Iamblichos in De mysteriis, an apologia of the theurgy.19 The parallelism of the theurgic practices and the theory of literature and art in the Neoplatonic context brings theurgy within the scope of interest of the history of 16 17

18

19

Cf. P, Enn. VI 8, 1, 32–40. P, In Rem publ. I, 71, 2–17, translation from J. A. C, ed. The literary microcosm: theories of interpretation of the later Neoplatonists. Leiden, 1976, 113. Cf. also A. D. R. S. Studies on the 5th and 6th essays of Proclus’ Commentary on the Republic. Göttingen, 1980. Cf. H, see n. 10, 22, B, Denken des Einen: Studien zur neuplatonischen Philosophie und ihrer Wirkungsgeschichte, see n. 11, chap. “Suche und ‘Denken’ des Einen als Prinzip der Literatur”, p. 296–309. Cf. I, De mysteriis 96, 12, English translation from E. C. C. Iamblichus: De mysteriis. Leiden, 2004, 115.

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Introduction

aesthetics, even though the position of theurgic thought with respect to aesthetics is an issue which is still open to debate. The reception of Neoplatonic philosophy in the Middle Ages with particular attention to the aspects that have been described above (theories of art and literature, theurgy) constitutes one of the important fields of research for the history of the medieval aesthetics. At this point, the fundamental differences between the reception of Neoplatonic philosophy in the Latin West and in the Byzantine East become constitutive for the history of specifically Byzantine aesthetics. While in the Latin West the texts of Plato and the Neoplatonic philosophers were virtually unavailable – of course this statement does not mean to deny or diminish the indirect influence of Plato and the Neoplatonic philosophers on the Latin West (Calcidius’ translation of the Timaios, Plotinos’ influence through the writings of Augustine and Proklos’ through those of Ps.-Dionysios the Areopagite, for instance) – Byzantine civilization, in contrast, not only had direct access to the Neoplatonic sources, but also witnessed several peaks of interest in Neoplatonic philosophy, most importantly in the 11th century (Michael Psellos and John Italos ) and in the 15th century (Georgios Gemistos, alias Plethon). It is in this context of intensified interest in Neoplatonic philosophy that the evidence for the direct reception of the aesthetic theories of the Neoplatonic philosophers can be found. For example, Michael Psellos not only was interested in but also commented on the notion of intelligible beauty in Plotinos.20 Plethon provides an outline of a theory of beauty which contains traces of the Neoplatonic approach to the problem, but cannot be entirely traced back to either Plotinos or Proklos.21 The name of Plethon is also connected with the apparent revival of ritual practices at his school in Mistra that resemble theurgic rites.22 The transformation of Neoplatonic aesthetic theories in the process of confrontation with Christian thought opens a new chapter in the history of medieval and especially Byzantine aesthetics. With regard to Neoplatonic theories of the beautiful, it would not be an exaggeration to say that one particular ‘occurrence’ or even a fortuitous ‘mistake’ immensely stimulated Christian interest in the subject. This important impulse was given by the Greek text of the Septuaginta, which applied a semantically ambiguous adjective καλός (whose meaning in Greek con20 21

22

Cf. M P, Op. 34 περὶ νοητοῦ κάλλους (J. M. D, ed. Michaelis Pselli Philosophica minora. Stutgardiae, 1992–1989, ii, 115–117). For the discussion of Plethon’s aesthetic views cf. S. M. Der Begriff des Schönen in der Philosophie Plethons. Byzantion 81 (2011), 267–287. For an analysis of the Plethonian theory of beauty against Proklean background, cf. the contribution by S. Mariev in the present volume, p. 57ff. Cf. especially M. V. A. Pletho’s Calendar and Liturgy. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 4 (1948), 183–305. On the Plethonian philosophy in general, cf. B. T-K. Pléthon, le retour de Platon. Paris, 2007.

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stantly oscillates between ‘beautiful’ and ‘good’) to the created world.23 The fact that the Creation was termed καλός in the Bible did not escape the notice of Christian interpreters.24 The various meanings of the word καλός in the account of the book of Genesis were frequently discussed in the hexaemeral literature25 and in related texts.26 Even though the exegesis of the phrase “And God saw ὅτι καλόν (that it was good / beautiful)” in the hexaemeral texts mainly aims at imparting spiritual guidance rather than developing a new consistent theory of the beautiful, the texts by the Church Fathers contain theoretical elements that are traceable back to Aristotelian,27 Stoic28 and Neoplatonic theories of beauty and thus demonstrate on 23

24

25

26 27 28

Cf. Gen. 1 4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25, 31. On the original meaning of these passages in Hebrew, which were devoid of aesthetic connotations, see for instance W. G. καλός. In: Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Neuen Testament. Ed. by G. K. Vol. 3. 1938, 539–553. For the views of the Church Fathers on beauty cf. I. R. Good / Beauty. In: The Brill dictionary of Gregory of Nyssa. Ed. by L. F. M-S and G. M. Leiden, 2010, 356–363; D. I. Il paradosso della bellezza divina. Gregorio di Nissa, In Cant. VI, p. 191, 7-9 ed. Langerbeck. Orpheus (Catania) 28 n.s. (2007), 100–115; J. V. Gregori de Nissa: La virginitat. Barcelona, 2006, “El fi de la virginitat és lliurar-se a la bellesa suprema”, S. 33–35; D. A. Αισθητική βυζαντινή: Η έννοια του κάλλους στον Μέγα Βασίλειο. Athena, 2004; D. B. H. The beauty of the infinite: the aesthetics of Christian truth. Grand Rapids, Mich., 2003; A. C. Schönheit Gottes und des Menschen: theologische Untersuchung des Werkes „In canticum canticorum“ von Gregor von Nyssa aus der Perspektive des Schönen und des Guten. Frankfurt am Main, 2000; P. S. Spirit and beauty: an introduction to theological aesthetics. Oxford, 1992; A. M. The Good and the Beautiful in Gregory of Nyssa. In: Hermeneumata: Festschrift für Hadwig Hörner zum sechzigsten Geburtstag. Ed. by H. E. Heidelberg, 1990, 133–145; E. V. B. Ästhetik des Frühchristentums. Theologische Quartalschrift 156.4 (1976), 259–276; G. M. The aesthetic theories of Gregory of Nyssa. In: Studies in memory of David Talbot Rice. Ed. by G. R. 1975, 217–222; R. M. L’estetica nel pensiero cristiano. In: Grande antologia filosofica. Ed. by U. A. P. Vol. 5 Il pensiero cristiano. Milano, 1966, 151–310; Q. C. Estetica cristiana. In: Momenti e problemi di storia dell’estetica: parte prima dall’antichità classica al barocco. Vol. 1. Milano, 1959, 81–114; E. de B. Esthétique païenne, esthétique chrétienne: a propos de quelques textes patristiques. Revue Internationale de Philosophie 9 (1955), 130–144; Y. C. Saint Basile et l’hellénisme: étude sur la rencontre de la pensée chrétienne avec la sagesse antique dans l’Hexaméron de Basile Le Grand. Paris, 1934, Kap. XI “La beauté de la création”, p. 131–136. On the term ‘hexaemeral literature’ cf. F. E. R. The hexaemeral literature: a study of the Greek and Latin commentaries on Genesis. Chicago, Ill., 1912, who treats this particular group of exegetical texts as a whole. Cf. e.g. John Philoponos’ essay on the beautiful in De opificio mundi, 7, 6 (ed. Reichardt 293–294). On the Aristotelian theory of beauty cf. L. B. “Il bello in Aristotele: fisica, matematica, filosofia prima”. PhD thesis. Università degli Studi di Padova, 2008. The Stoic concept of beauty was recapitulated by Plotinos in Enn. I 6, 1, 20–24. On Plotinos and the Stoics, and in particular on the criticism of the Stoic theory of beauty, cf. J. P. A. Plotinus’ Refutation of Beauty as Symmetry. The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 23.2 (1964), 233–237, A. G. Plotinus and the stoics: a preliminary study. Leiden, 1972 und

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Introduction

the part of Christian exegetes an awareness of and interest in specifically aesthetic questions. The commentaries on the ‘Six days of Creation’ constitute an integral part of Byzantine literature. This tradition, once established by the Church Fathers, was continued by diverse Byzantine authors such as George of Pisidia, John of Damaskos, Anastasios of Sinai, Niketas Stethatos, Michael Psellos, Neophytos Enkleistos and others. Although not all of the commentaries on the ‘Six days of Creation’ were interested in theses aesthetical aspects, this tradition was one of the ‘paths’ along which the reception of aesthetic theories can be traced in subsequent centuries. A more intense – considered from a theoretical point of view – debate against Neoplatonic theories of the beautiful took place in another closely related context. The Early Byzantine period witnessed an acute controversy over cosmological issues, which was grounded in the incompatibility of the Neoplatonic theories of the generation of the universe with the Christian idea of Creation.29 These debates involved the subject of beauty insofar as the beauty in Neoplatonic philosophy is connected with form. And so in the course of these debates the ideas which were fundamental to Neoplatonic aesthetics (beauty of form and ugliness of matter) underwent a thorough revision and refutation on the part of the Christian interpreters who demonstrated the impossibility – from a Christian standpoint – of thinking that God is a creator of ugly matter, and, in more general terms, refuted an idea of form which is separate from matter, as e.g. Nikephoros Chumnos would point out in the 14th century, looking back on the long philosophical and theological tradition.30 What has emerged out of these debates is the typically Christian view of the beauty of the created universe – surely a commonplace in Byzantium at all times thereafter – which only superficially resembles the Neoplatonic theories of the beauty of the kosmos, as it rests on completely different theoretical foundations and draws additional support from the authority of the Greek text of the Book of Genesis. Even though the writings of Ps.-Dionysios the Areopagite belong to the same general context of the transformation of Neoplatonic philosophy by Christian think-

29

30

H.-J. H. Stoische Symmetrie und Theorie des Schönen in der Kaiserzeit. Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt ii 36.3 (1989), 1455–1471. The source for the Stoic theory of beauty as symmetry is Panaitios, cf. Fr. 107 ed. S, which is extracted from Cicero’s De Offic. I, 27, 93–28. On the subject in general cf. C. K. Christliche Kosmologie und kaiserzeitliche Philosophie: die Auslegung des Schöpfungsberichtes bei Origenes, Basilius und Gregor von Nyssa vor dem Hintergrund kaiserzeitlicher Timaeus-Interpretationen. Tübingen, 2009, R. S. Matter, space and motion: theories in antiquity and their sequel. Ithaca, NY, 1988 and M. B. Die Weltentstehung des Platonischen Timaios nach den antiken Interpreten. Leiden, 1976–1978. Cf. the short treatise by Nikephoros Chumnos on matter edited by K. P. C. Το φιλοσοφικό έργο του Νικεφόρου Χούμνου. Thessalonik¯e, 2002, 42–57.

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ers, their importance for medieval aesthetics, both in the Latin West and in the Byzantine East, clearly sets them apart and calls for special consideration. In fact, almost no general work on the subject fails to stress their contribution to medieval aesthetics.31 In his History of Aesthetics, for instance, T considers the writings of Ps.-Dionysios as a “further stage in the history of Christian aesthetics”, which “brought patristic aesthetics to a close”, insofar as it “collected into a system” the aesthetic ideas “scattered among the Fathers”.32 Although T clearly recognizes the breadth of the aesthetic interests of Ps.-Dionysios, his account actually concentrates on the theory of the beautiful which is found in chap. IV, section 7 of the Divine Names. In his view, the achievement of Ps.-Dionysios consists in introducing into Christian aesthetics an “abstract concept of beauty”;33 however, he failed, believes T, to distinguish the beautiful from the good: “Plotinus [. . . ] had nonetheless distinguished them from one another, regarding beauty as an outward appearance of goodness, but the Pseudo-Dionysius made no distinction between them, he identified and fused them in all-embracing unity.”34 A much broader approach to the aesthetics of Ps.-Dionysios is suggested in the monumental work on theological aesthetics by B. He sees in Ps.Dionysios “an evident and realized synthesis between truth and beauty, between theology and aesthetics”.35 The main emphasis of his account is placed not on the Divine Names, but rather on the treatises on the Ecclesiastical and Celestial Hierarchy. B’s analysis of Ps.-Dionysian aesthetics is provided in a chapter which bears the title “Ästhetik und Liturgik”, as he believes that “hardly any other theology is so profoundly shaped by the aesthetic categories as the liturgical theol31 32 33 34

35

Cf. the literature mentioned on p. 1f. T, History of aesthetics, see n. 4, vol. ii, p. 27f. T, History of aesthetics, see n. 4, vol. ii, p. 27f. T, History of aesthetics, see n. 4, vol. ii, p. 29. The question of whether Ps.Dionysios actually distinguished the beautiful from the good must remain one of the central issues of research into Dionysian aesthetics that is still open to debate. Well known is the position of S, who insisted on the distinction between the two: “Der grundlegende Unterschied zwischen dem Gottesnamen des Guten und dem des Schönen scheint jedoch ein anderer zu sein. [. . . ] Er [d.h. Dionysios] läßt Gott [. . . ] als den Terminus a quo des Ausganges der geschaffenen Wesen, weil er das Gute ist; als den Terminus ad quem des Emporstrebens der Geschöpfe, da er als das Schöne sie wieder zu sich zurückruft.” (O. S. “Das ausstrahlende und emporziehende Licht: die Theologie des Pseudo-Dionysius Aeropagita in systematischer Darstellung”. PhD thesis. Bonn, 1947, 57.) Strangely enough, P not only fails to provide an answer to this question in her PhD thesis, which is exclusively dedicated to the subject of beauty in Dionysios, but seems to avoid posing the question altogether, cf. C. C. P. Beauty in the Pseudo-Denis. Washington, D.C., 1960. This question should be investigated not by contrasting Ps.-Dionysios with Plotinos, as T does, but with Proklos, to whom Ps.-Dionysios owns a much greater debt in this and in other regards. Cf. B, see n. 6, ii, 151: “[. . . ] evidente, verwirklichte Synthese von Wahrheit und Schönheit, von Theologie und Ästhetik.”

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Introduction

ogy of Dionysios”.36 It is not the theory of the beautiful in the narrow sense of the word that emerges from his analysis as the main aspect of Ps.-Dionysian aesthetics, but rather the “material and spiritual structure of the universe which for Dionysios is an immediate theophany. [. . . ] he [i.e. Ps.-Dionysios] contemplates God not by taking things as a mere point of departure, but in the things: colours, forms, essences, qualities are for him immediate theophany.”37 In this way, B formulates his central thesis about Ps.-Dionysian aesthetics, which is understood by him in terms of “the in-worldly aesthetic transcendence” (innerweltliche ästhetische Transzendenz)38 and the “proportion between the sensuality and spirit” (Proportion zwischen der Sinnlichkeit und Geist).39 Understandably, B does not use the Neoplatonic term ‘theurgy’ in his account and instead prefers to speak of Ps.-Dionysian aesthetics,40 but the close parallel between, on the one hand, the “immediate theophany” in the things which B identifies as the central aspect of Ps.-Dionysian aesthetics and, on the other hand, the Neoplatonic theurgic practices, which considered sensible objects as tokens of intelligible reality, reveals once again the need to look at both “theurgy” and “aesthetics” in the pagan and in the Christian context as closely related to each other. Even a brief overview of the most important literary, philosophical and theological contexts that provided impulses for the development of aesthetic theories in the Middle Ages, and in particular in Byzantium, would be patently incomplete without a consideration of another “context” which stimulated the development of several theories which can without doubt be characterized as the most important specifically Byzantine contribution to medieval aesthetics, i.e. the theories of the religious image which were formulated and developed in the course of the iconoclast controversy. The “Iconoclast Era” in Byzantium is the period which extends from approximately AD 680 to AD 850 , even though the first iconoclast struggle began during the reign of Leo III (the traditional date for the “outbreak” of iconoclasm is 726) and officially ended in 843.41 This period witnessed changes that embraced almost 36 37 38 39 40

41

Cf. B, see n. 6, ii, 157: “[. . . ] kaum eine Theologie ist von ästhetischen Kategorien so durchherrscht gewesen wie des Areopagiten liturgische Theologie.” Cf. B, see n. 6, ii, 183: “[. . . ] er schaut Gott nicht anläßlich der Dinge, sondern in den Dingen: Farben, Formen, Wesen, Eigenschaften sind für ihn unmittelbare Theophanie.” B, see n. 6, ii, 171. B, see n. 6, ii, 168. B stresses that ‘zwischen Erscheinung und Erscheinendem nirgends ein Band naturhafter Notwendigkeit besteht.” (B, see n. 6, ii, 172). In the theurgic context in the proper sense of this word, the relationship between the symbol and that which it reveals is, on the contrary, dictated by the law of the universal sympatheia and is, therefore, necessary. This broader chronology is adopted by B and H as it allows them to take into consideration a wider range of factors which preceded the actual outbreak of the struggle. For

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every aspect of life in Byzantium and has been intensively studied from a large variety of perspectives. A salient point on this broader horizon of an all-embracing transformation of the Byzantine state and society of this period was an acute and persistent concern for orthodoxy, which found particular expression in the theological and political struggle over the veneration of religious images. For a period of almost two hundred years the question of the veneration of icons dominated the attention not only of the civil and ecclesiastical authorities of the Byzantine state but also of the general population. Decisions in favour of or against the veneration of icons were taken and frequently revoked at the highest level of Byzantine society, not seldom by the ruling emperor or empress in person, and subsequently approved – with or without resistance – at the highest level of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, i.e. at the oecumenical synods, and then even enforced in everyday religious practices. Given the importance of this question in Byzantium, it is not surprising that the efforts of Byzantine theologians of the period were almost entirely directed at this issue as well. However, it is equally erroneous to consider the theologians as the protagonists in this struggle, just as it is erroneous to suppose that the theology of the time merely formulated theoretical ‘underpinnings’ for the decisions that were taken elsewhere. It would be more correct to consider their activity as a response to a general demand which was felt across Byzantine society. The efforts of the iconophile (most importantly: John of Damaskos, Patriarch Nikephoros, Theodoros Studites) and iconoclast theologians (e.g. the emperor Constantine V) were mostly directed towards proving or disproving the ‘orthodoxy’ of the veneration of images in a sense similar to that of a legal expert who is engaged in the examination of the ‘legitimacy’ (i.e. of conformity with established legal standards) of a certain practice. The theory of the religious image, which is of interest to the history of aesthetics, was formulated insofar as it contributed to this more general objective. The reconstruction of this particular aspect of the theology of icons is not an easy task, as it requires taking into consideration developments which took place within Byzantine philosophy and theology of the preceding centuries, as the theory of image proposed by the Byzantine iconophile theologians rests on the theoretical foundations that had been formulated during that time. Just as in the cosmological debates with the Neoplatonists, so in formulating the theory of image the Byzantine philosophy and theology demonstrated once again the need and the ability to transcend the Neoplatonic metaphysics of form, as the Byzantine theory of icons rests on the notion of the hypostasis, which is not form, nature or substance. historical details with regard to the iconoclast controversy, cf. L. B and J. F. H. Byzantium in the iconoclast era c. 680 - 850: a history. Cambridge, 2011, the most up-to-date and comprehensive historical monograph on the subject.

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Introduction

*** The theories that are of interest to the history of aesthetics develop in a variety of different contexts; a full understanding of these theories calls for contributions from across a number of historical, philological and philosophical disciplines. The present volume aims to present a variety of approaches and topics within the growing field of research on Byzantine aesthetics. In particular, theurgy in Neoplatonic and Christian contexts is represented by the contributions of Wiebke-Marie Stock and Lutz Bergemann; theories of beauty are at the centre of interest of the papers by Sergei Mariev and Monica Marchetto. Aglae Pizzone approaches Byzantine aesthetics by looking for aesthetic experience in the literary texts, while the remaining contributions explore issues related to the iconoclast controversy: An important moment in the development of Byzantine philosophy on the eve of iconoclasm is the primary interest of Alberto del Campo Echevarría, who looks at the question of universals in John of Damaskos. The relationship between the image and text in Byzantine illustrated manuscripts occupies the attention of Barbara Crostini. Dmitry Afinogenov explores from a philological perspective the fate of important iconophile terminology in Old Bulgarian, while Lev Lukhovitskij reconstructs from historical and philological perspectives the historical memory of the iconoclast controversy during the Late Byzantine Period.

Theurgy and Aesthetics in Dionysios the Areopagite Wiebke-Marie Stock Introduction In his writings the Christian Neoplatonist Dionysios the Areopagite gives the impression of being the disciple of Saint Paul mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, but the truth is that he wrote his texts around 500 AD and there is evidence that he was influenced by later Neoplatonism, especially the writings of Proklos. His influence on Western and Eastern philosophy and theology cannot be undervalued. In the rich history of the reception of his works, the writing “On Ecclesiastical Hierarchy” is the only treatise that has not been given much serious philosophical attention. In this treatise, Dionysios deals with the ecclesiastical hierarchy, the order of the sacraments of Baptism, Eucharist, the sanctification of the myron (the oil), the rites of burial and the whole system of the church. This text is considered helpful in gaining information about the period and context of Dionysios’ writings, but is not generally taken to be interesting or important from a philosophical point of view. It is my view, however, that it is only possible to understand Dionysios’ philosophical value if one also considers his conception of liturgy. Though these topics might, upon first reading, appear purely ecclesiastical and only related to the liturgy, this treatise is at least as philosophical as Dionysios’ other works.1 In it, central concepts from the Neoplatonic tradition are further developed in a creative way as Dionysios combines them with Christian ideas. This Christian transformation of these Neoplatonic views involves concepts in the areas of political philosophy, ethics, metaphysics, philosophy of religion, aesthetics, anthropology, epistemology, and philosophy of language.2 1

2

Cf. W.-M. S. Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita. Berlin, New York, 2008. Apart from the authors I quote in this book, the same position that undervalues this treatise, cf. E. D. P. Theophany. The neoplatonic philosophy of Dionysius the Areopagite. Albany, 2007, 2; D. C. Formes théologiques et symbolisme sacré chez (Pseudo-) Denys l’Aréopagite. Bruxelles, 2010; J. D and S. K. W. Dionysius the Areopagite and the Neoplatonic Tradition: Despoiling the Hellenes. Aldershot, 2007. In this article, I will concentrate on the concept of theurgy, i.e. topics also discussed in the chapters “theurgia”, “cheiragôgia” and “anagôgia” in my book (S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1); for other aspects cf. W.-M. S. Stilo obscuro? Zur Sprache des Dionysius Areopagita. In: Nicht(s) sagen. Sprache und Sprachabwendung im 20. Jahrhundert. Ed. by E. A and A. L. Bielefeld, 2008, 135–158; W.-M. S. Polypathie. Die Theorie der Seele nach Dionysius Areopagita. In: Passiones animae. Die „Leidenschaften der Seele“ in der mittelalterlichen Theologie und Philosophie. Ed. by C. S and M. T. Berlin, forthcoming 2013 and W.-M. S. Eikonographia. La pensée de l’image selon Denys l’Aréopagite. In: L’icône dans la pensée et dans l’art. Ed. by A. V and K. M. Turnhout, forthcoming 2013.

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Wiebke-Marie Stock

This text is unquestionably an important source on the topics of theurgy and aesthetics since Dionysios here deals explicitly with religious practice. I will, therefore, focus in what follows on some important points related to these topics, in particular the concept of theourgia and the aesthetic value of the liturgy. It is clear that Dionysios is well acquainted with Christian tradition and ritual (probably a Syrian liturgy); however, his way of talking about these matters is deeply influenced by philosophers of the later Neoplatonist tradition like Iamblichos and Proklos. Dionysios uses both the Christian and the Neoplatonic traditions to create a new concept of theourgia in which the aesthetic value of the ritual plays an important philosophical role. Theurgy and Hierourgy Theurgy has been, and continues to be, a topic of much debate. As vulgar magic is commonly the last resort of the personally desperate, of those whom man and God have alike failed, so theurgy became the refuge of a despairing intelligentsia which already felt la fascination de l’abîme.3 For a long time scholars like D have presented the practice of theurgy as a sign of the decline of ancient philosophy in late Antiquity – a decline in philosophical thinking after Plotinos. Theurgic rites have been considered to be a contamination of philosophy through magic.4 Iamblichos’ main book is characterized by D as follows: “The de mysteriis is a manifesto of irrationalism, an assertion that the road to salvation is found not in reason but in ritual.”5 In recent years there has been a change, as some authors have begun to explore the philosophical value of theurgy.6 However, it is still a hotly debated topic; the reproach of having abandoned pure philosophy and supplanted it with ritual is still virulent. 3 4

5 6

E. R. D. Theurgy and its Relationship to Neoplatonism. The Journal of Roman Studies 37 (1947), 55–69, 59; E. R. D. The Greeks and the Irrational. Boston, 1957, 288. C. Z. Die Wertung von Mystik und Magie in der neuplatonischen Philosophie. In: Die Philosophie des Neuplatonismus. Ed. by C. Z. Darmstadt, 1977, 391–426, 408f., 426; H. K. Pseudo-Dionysius Areopagita in seinen Beziehungen zum Neuplatonismus und Mysterienwesen. Eine litterarhistorische Untersuchung. Mainz, 1900, 214; R. R. L’univers dionysien. Structure hiérarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys. Paris, 1983, 71. D, Theurgy and its Relationship to Neoplatonism, see n. 3, 59. Cf. J. B. Philosophy, Theology, and Magic: Gods and Forms in Iamblichus. In: Metaphysik und Religion. Zur Signatur des spätantiken Denkens. Akten des Internationalen Kongresses vom 13.-17. März 2001 in Würzburg. Ed. by T. K and M. E. München, Leipzig, 2002, 39–61, 39, 43; A. S. Proclus’ Attitude to Theurgy. Classical Quarterly 32 (1982), 212–224, 212; T. S. Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs. Frankfurt am Main, 1995, 21–25.

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Theurgy first became important in later Neoplatonism, especially in Iamblichos and Proklos. The word ‘theurgy’ was used by them [i.e. the theurgists] to denote all manners of rites, including purification, hymns, prayers, the animation of statues, possessions, the conjuration of spirits, and mystical contemplation.7 The main difference between the philosopher and the theurgist is to be found in the way in which he conceives of the union with the divine. While the philosopher achieves it through his own intellectual effort – by virtues, spiritual exercises and thought –, the theurgist uses ritual, i.e. rites that have been revealed by the gods.8 According to Plotinos, the soul does not descend completely, and as a result it does not lose the capacity to ascend; it must, however, achieve the ascent through its own effort, and primarily through the activity of thought.9 His disciple Porphyrios is not interested in theurgy; Porphyrios claims that while this activity has a positive effect on the lower soul and the common people, the higher soul and the philosophical elite do not need it, since they can achieve the ascent through the activity of thought.10 According to the later Neoplatonists, however, the soul descends completely and cannot ascend without external help.11 Furthermore, these later 7 8

9

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D. B. Proclus and the Theurgic Liturgy of Pseudo-Dionysius. Dionysius 22 (2004), 111– 132, 11f. Cf. L. G. W, ed. Damascius: The Greek Commentaries on Plato’s Phaedo. Amsterdam, Oxford, and New York, 1977, I, 172, 1–3: “To some philosophy is primary, as to Porphyry and Plotinus and a great many other philosophers; to others hieratic practice, as to Iamblichus, Syrianus, Proclus, and the hieratic school generally.” Cf. also P. H. Théologie, exégèse, révélation, écriture, dans la philosophie grecque. In: Les règles de l’interprétation. Ed. by M. T. Paris, 1987, 13–34, 29; R. M. The Chaldean Oracles. Text, translation, and commentary. Leiden et al., 1989, 30f. P, Enn. IV 8 [6] 8, 1–6; II 4 [15], 3, 22–27; V 1 [10] 3, 1–3 (Plotins Schriften Neubearbeitung mit griechischem Lesetext und Anmerkungen, übersetzt von R. H, fortgeführt von R. B und W. T, 6 vol. Hamburg, 1956–1971; Plotini Opera, ed. P. H et H.-R. S. 3 vol. Oxford 1964–1982; Plotinus: Enneads, with an english translation by A. H. A in seven volumes. Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1966ff.). Cf. S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6, 118, and n. 438–441. Cf. B. N. Theurgie und Philosophie in Jamblichs De mysteriis. Stuttgart, 1991, 199; M, see n. 8, 32; H. D. S. La théurgie comme phénomène culturel chez les néoplatoniciens (IVe-Ve siècles). In: Recherches sur le néoplatonisme après Plotin. Paris, 1990, 51–61, 69; A. S. Porphyry’s Place in the Neoplatonic Tradition. A study in Post-Plotinian Neoplatonism. The Hague, 1974, 125–141. Cf. P, ET 211 (E. R. D, ed. Proclus: The Elements of Theology. 2nd ed. Oxford, 1992, 184); P, In Parm. 948, 18–20 (V. C, ed. Procli philosophi opera inedita, pars tertia, continens Procli commentaria in Platonis Parmenidem. Hildesheim, 1961; translation in G.

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Wiebke-Marie Stock

Neoplatonists underscore the transcendence of the One.12 On this view, therefore, union with the One does not seem to be achievable independent of divine intervention; the activity of the divine, that is theurgy, is, therefore, a necessary condition of union. Iamblichos (ca. 245–325 AD) is the author who introduces the concept theurgy into Neoplatonism; his book De mysteriis, in which he is answering Porphyry’s Letter to Anebo “in the guise of the purported Egyptian prophet Abamon”, is an apologia of theurgy.13 [. . . ] for it is not pure thought that unites the theurgists with the gods. Indeed what, then, would hinder those who are theoretical philosophers from enjoying a theurgic union with the gods? But the situation is not so: it is the accomplishment of acts not to be divulged and beyond all conception, and the power of the unutterable symbols, understood solely by the gods, which establishes theurgic union. Hence, we do not bring about these things by intellection alone; for thus the efficacy would be intellectual, and dependent upon us. But neither assumption is true. For even when we are not engaged in intellection, the symbols (συνθήματα) themselves, by themselves, perform their appropriate work, and the ineffable power of the gods, to whom these symbols relate, itself recognizes the proper images of itself, not through being aroused by our thought.14 While for Porphyrios theurgy was strictly limited, Iamblichos downgrades the importance of philosophy; philosophy alone cannot lead to union with the One,

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R. M and J. M. D. Proclus’ Commentary on Plato’s Parmenides. Princeton, 1987). Cf. D. J. O’M. Platonopolis. Platonic political philosophy in late antiquity. 2nd ed. Oxford, 2005, 37–39, 124f., p. 39 and n. 28; S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6, 95, 113; P. H. L’expression de l’indicible dans le néoplatonisme grec de Plotin à Damascius. In: Dire l’évidence (Philosophie et rhétorique antiques). Ed. by C. L and L. P. Paris, 1997, 335–390, 373, 376; G. S. Neoplatonic Theurgy and Dionysius Areopagite. Journal of Early Christian Studies 7.4 (1999), 673–599, 579 and n. 25; S, see n. 10, 54–56, and n. 15; W. B. Denken des Einen. Studien zur neuplatonischen Philosophie und ihrer Wirkungsgeschichte. Frankfurt a. M., 1985, 174–178; M, see n. 8, 31; O’M, see n. 11, 124f. Cf. O’M, see n. 11, 38; N, see n. 10, 18, 197 and p. 18, n. 11. E. C. C, J. M. D, and J. P. H, eds. Iamblichus: De mysteriis. Leiden and Boston, 2004, XXIX. Cf. N, see n. 10; S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6; A. S. Further thoughts on Iamblichus as the first philosopher of religion. In: Metaphysik und Religion. Zur Signatur des spätantiken Denkens. Akten des Internationalen Kongresses vom 13.-17. März in Würzburg. Ed. by T. K and M. E. München, Leipzig, 2002, 297–308, 299. I, De mysteriis 96, 13–97, 9 (E. D P, ed. Jamblique: Les mystère d’Égypte. Paris, 1966; translation in C, D, and H, see n. 13).

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theurgy, on this view, is indispensable.15 For Proklos (412–485 AD) theurgy is also of a vital importance, though his position is more ambiguous than that of Iamblichos since he is also a man of the logos, a great commentator upon Plato’s dialogues.16 Proklos defines “theurgic power” as “higher than human wisdom and knowledge, embracing the goodness of divination, the purifying powers of initiation, and in a word all the operations of divine possession.”17 The original meaning of the notion theourgia is not clear; it was probably put forward as a contrast to theologia; thus signifying a “working on the gods” opposed to a “speaking about the gods.” However, the Neoplatonic concept of theurgy is clearly distinct from magic: the gods are not forced into doing anything by theurgic ritual. The meaning of theourgia in the Neoplatonic context is either “making divine” – that is the goal of the rites – or “divine action” – that is the origin of the activity.18 It is, so to speak, a cooperation between man and the divine. But the activity of theourgia itself is ultimately divine.19 The goal of theurgy is the union with the divine that cannot be achieved through thought alone; ineffable acts are necessary, and symbols have important meaning. Theurgy has its basis in the Chaldean Oracles which are read by the Neoplatonists as a revelation.20 15 16

17

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S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6, 119. Cf. W. B. Proklos. Grundzüge seiner Metaphysik. 2nd ed. Frankfurt/Main, 1979, 328, n. 69: “Wenn das Ziel des Denkens abstruser, irrationaler Mystizismus wäre oder das Denken durch Theurgie beliebig ersetzbar wäre, warum hat dann Proklos den Parmenides- oder Euklid-Kommentar und bestimmte Partien der Theologia sec. Platonem geschrieben, die der Anstrengung des rationalen Begreifens mitnichten ausweichen?” R. M. V D B. Proclus’ Hymns. Essays, translations, commentary. Leiden, Boston, and Köln, 2001, chapter IV “The Theory behind Theurgy”, 66–85; T. S. Theurgie. In: Historisches Wörterbuch für Philosophie. Vol. 10. 1998, 1180–1183, 1180ff. Cf. A. J. F. Contemplation philosophique et art théurgique chez Proclus. In: Études de philosophie grecque. Paris, 1971, 585–596; S, see n. 6; N, see n. 10, 19. P, Theol. Plat. I 25, 113, 5–10 (H. S and L. W, eds. Théologie platonicienne. Paris, 1968–1987). English translation, slightly modified D, Theurgy and its Relationship to Neoplatonism, see n. 3, 61. Cf. S, see n. 6, 219. Cf. V D B, see n. 16, 67; M, see n. 8, 22; O’M, see n. 11, 129; S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6, 116 and n. 426; B, see n. 7, 111f. E. R. D. Die Griechen und das Irrationale. Darmstadt, 1970, 159; H. P. E. Untersuchungen zu Gebet und Gottesverehrung der Neuplatoniker. Köln, 1967, 51f. A. L. Pagan theurgy and christian sacramentalism in Denys the Areopagite. The Journal of Theological Studies 37.2 (1986), 432–438, 434; S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6, 198–206; S, Theurgie, see n. 16, 1180ff. M, see n. 8, 26f. Cf. I, dM I 12, 41, 4–11 (D P, Jamblique: Les mystère d’Égypte, see n. 14; C, D, and H, see n. 13). Cf. L, Pagan theurgy and christian sacramentalism in Denys the Areopagite, see n. 18, 433; S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6, 97; J. T. L’Un et l’âme selon Proclus. Paris, 1972, 175. Cf. P, In Tim. I 408, 12f.: θεοπαράδοτος θεολογία; In Tim. I 318, 22 (E. D, ed. Proclus: In Platonis Timaeum commentaria. Vol. I–III. Leipzig, 1903–1906). Cf. H,

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Wiebke-Marie Stock

In the treatise “On ecclesiastical hierarchy”, Dionysios also uses the notions of theourgia, theourgikos and theourgos, but he never speaks of a theurgic art (theurgikê technê) or a theurgist (theurgos).21 The hierarchy, that is the whole order of the church, is part of theurgic activity: Our hierarchy consists of an inspired, divine, and divinely worked understanding, activity and perfection. (τῆς ἐνθέου καὶ θείας ἐστὶ καὶ θεουργικῆς ἐπιστήμης καὶ ἐνεργείας καὶ τελειώσεως).22 Though Dionysios is, in some ways, close to the pagan Neoplatonists, in his text theourgia never designates the ritual as it does in pagan theurgy. The liturgy in Dionysios’ texts is referred to as hierourgia, a holy action.23 According to Dionysios, theourgia is the divine activity, but not, as in pagan Neoplatonism, in the sense of an activity of the divine or of one god, but rather in the sense of the “work of God”, the work of a personal God.24 Though theurgy never designates the liturgy, the link between theurgy and liturgy is very close. Dionysios writes in his reflection on the Eucharist:

21

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Théologie, exégèse, révélation, écriture, dans la philosophie grecque, see n. 8, 30 and n. 76. Cf. V D B, see n. 16, 67; M. H. Sprachphilosophie und Namenmagie im Neuplatonismus. Mit einem Exkurs zu ‘Demokrit’ B 142. Meisenheim am Glan, 1979, 12f. H, Théologie, exégèse, révélation, écriture, dans la philosophie grecque, see n. 8, 26–28; E. D P. Notice. In: Oracles Chaldaïques, avec un choix de commentaires anciens. Ed. by E. D P. Paris, 1971, 7–57; M, see n. 8. There has been a discussion concerning Dionysios’ relation to pagan theurgy, cf. P. R. Iamblichus and the Anagogical Method in Pseudo-Dionysian Liturgical Theology. Studia Patristica 17.1 (1982), 453–460, 456; P. R. Biblical and liturgical symbols within the PseudoDionysian Synthesis. Toronto, 1984; L, Pagan theurgy and christian sacramentalism in Denys the Areopagite, see n. 18; S, see n. 11; B, see n. 7. I have already discussed these articles in S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1, 152–171, Chapter “theourgia”. Another author who underlines the close connection between Iamblichos and Dionysios is P. S. Pagan and Christian Theurgies: Iamblichus, Pseudo-Dionysius, Religion and Magic in Late Antiquity. The Ancient World 32.1 (2001), 25– 38. EH 63, 3f. (369A; translation in L, R, and R); Dionysios’ works are quoted with the following abbreviations: Ecclesiastical Hierarchy (EH); Celestial Hierarchy (CH); Divine Names (DN); translations either by L, R, and R or by myself ); B. R. S, ed. Corpus Dionysiacum I: De Divinis Nominibus. Patristische Texte und Studien 33. Berlin, New York, 1990; G. H and A. M. R, eds. Corpus Dionysiacum II: De coelestis hierarchia, De ecclesiastica hierarchie, De mystica theologia, Epistulae. Patristische Texte und Studien 36. Berlin, New York, 1991; C. L, P. R, and R. R. Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works. New York, 1987. G. L. A patristic Greek Lexicon. Oxford, 1961, 671. Cf. D and W, see n. 1, 100f. Cf. DN 130, 5.7.10 (644C); CH 23, 3 (181B); EH 83, 20 (429C); EH 92, 6 (441C).

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In this way the hierarch is at one with the divine reality, and having sung the praises of God’s sacred works (τὰς ἱερὰς θεουργίας) he sacredly performs the most divine acts (ἱερουργεῖ τὰ θειότατα) and lifts the praised things into view. (Οὕτω τοῖς θείοις ὁ ἱεράχης ἑνοῦται καὶ τὰς ἱερὰς θεουργίας ὑμνήσας ἱερουργεῖ τὰ θειότατα καὶ ὑπ’ ὄψιν ἄγει τὰ ὑμνημένα).25 These “works of God for us”, those “works of God directed to us” (τὰς εἰς ἡμᾶς θεουργίας)26 are the works of God in the history of salvation.27 The theourgia reaches into the celebration of liturgy that is based on it. Therefore, in these hierourgiai – that is in these “images of divine power”28 – the divine action is continued.29 The celebration of liturgy is a remembrance of the divine actions, and it renews them: This imitation of God, how else are we to achieve it if not by remembrance of God’s sacred works that are renewed in the hierarchical holy words and holy works? (Τὸ θεομίμητον δὲ πῶς ἂν ἡμῖν ἑτέρως ἐγγένοιτο μὴ τῆς τῶν ἱερωτάτων θεουργιῶν μνήμης ἀνανεουμένης ἀεὶ ταῖς ἱεραρχικαῖς ἱερολογίαις τε καὶ ἱερουργίαις·)30 In the hierourgia, theourgia is not only remembered, praised and celebrated31 , theurgy propagates itself in it. Hierourgia is the continuation of theourgia towards men, an extension that works theurgically; “hierourgia is the ritual engagement with and reproduction of theourgia.”32 Both Christian liturgy and pagan theurgy are based on symbols. Symbols are “the essential ingredient in the theurgical ritual”; the theurgist has to perform ineffable acts; he has to use symbols or signs – synthêmata – images of the gods that can produce the union when handled correctly; some of these symbols are natural things, animals, plants, stones; but images, names, music, numbers can also serve as symbols.33 And these signs are said to have been sown into the cosmos by the 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

EH 90, 9f. (440B) (L, R, and R). Cf. EH 81, 6f. (425D). EH 90, 11 (440C) (translation is mine, –Stock). Cf. EH 90, 11–92, 1 (440C–441B). Cf. L, Pagan theurgy and christian sacramentalism in Denys the Areopagite, see n. 18, 435. EH 107, 21–23 (505B) (Stock). Cf. EH 103, 21ff. (485B). Cf. Y. D A. Symbole et mystère selon Denys l’Aréopagite. Studia Patristica 37 (2001), 421–451, 423. EH 92, 2–4 (441C) (translation is mine, –Stock). Cf. EH 113, 20–24 (513C). D and W, see n. 1, 100. V D B, see n. 16, 79 and 74. Concerning symbolon and synthêma, cf. S, Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs, see n. 6, 128–138; W. M. ΣΥΜΒΟΛΟΝ. Wort-

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gods. The basis for this idea can be found in the Chaldean Oracles, where it is said: “The Intellect of the father has sown symbola into the cosmos.”34 The symbols are divine, and represent the seeds of the gods; they, therefore, have a link – sympatheia or philia – to the divine. “Entities on a lower level are described as σύμβολα or συνθήματα of the corresponding items on a higher level.” Thus they can also be used in forming and animating statues as well as in achieving union.35 Dionysios speaks of images and symbols (especially eikôn, symbolon, but also agalma and synthêma) in his treatises; but while in his other texts, he is interested in biblical symbols (names of God, of the angels), in the Ecclesiastical hierarchy the symbols are material: bread, wine, oil, gestures etc. The divine shows itself in matter like in pagan theurgy, and the symbols allow man to participate in the divine.36 But there is an important difference between the theurgy discussed in Dionysios’ writings and pagan theurgy. In pagan Neoplatonism, the symbols are divine since they represent the seeds of the gods; they have a link – sympatheia or philia – to the divine. In Dionysios, however, the symbols are not holy in themselves, but only in and through the liturgy.37 There is an “inbreaking”38 of the divine; bread and wine become a symbol in a specific moment of liturgy, they are not holy in themselves. This idea breaks the laws of the sympatheia.39 The central theurgia, the incarnation, is a break in the order of the cosmos, not the fulfilling of its hidden laws.

34 35

36 37 38 39

und sachgeschichtliche Studie. In: Griechische Studien. Ausgewählte Wort- und sachgeschichtliche Forschungen zur Antike. Basel, 1976, 1–44, esp. 31–34 and 37–44; S. M-O. Symbol. I. Antike, Mittelalter, Neuzeit. In: Historisches Wörterbuch für Philosophie. Vol. 10. 1998, 710– 723. Chaldean Oracles, fr. 108: Σύμβολα γὰρ πατρικὸς νόος ἔσπειρεν κατὰ κόσμον (ed. M). Cf. T, see n. 19, 179. S, see n. 6, 220. Cf. B, see n. 7, 116. S. R. Reading Neoplatonism. Nondiscursive Thinking in the Texts of Plotinus, Proclus, and Damascius. Cambridge, 2000, 12. Concerning philia and sympatheia cf. Iamblichos, dM III 16, 137, 15–138, 5; I 12, 42, 6 (D P, Jamblique: Les mystère d’Égypte, see n. 14; C, D, and H, see n. 13). Cf. N, see n. 10, 105–121. While Iamblichos distinguishes between  (within the cosmos) and  (a link to the divine), Proklos uses both terms for the link to the divine. Cf. N, see n. 10, 123f. V D B, see n. 16, 73; S, see n. 21, 28. Cf. J. H. Plotin und der Neuplatonismus. München, 2004, 150. Cf. A. L. The Origins of the Christian Mystical Tradition. From Plato to Denys. Oxford, 1981, 164; S, see n. 11, 584, 597; B, see n. 7, 127. M, see n. 8, 24. F. G. Bild und Götterstatuen im Neuplatonismus. In: Handbuch der Bildtheologie. Bd. I: Bild-Konflikte. Ed. by R. H. Paderborn, 2007, 81–119, 109; cf. T, see n. 19, 179.

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Body and soul The relation of the soul to the body is a central problem in the Platonic tradition. Materiality and corporeality hinder the soul on its way to intellection and union with the One; and the true being of man is the soul.40 In late Neoplatonism, the separation of the soul from the body is still the ultimate goal, but man is now considered to be a συναμφότερον of body and soul, the body does not only hinder the soul, but it can be a “tool” for the soul.41 For Iamblichus, however, the descent of soul into body usually resulted in an embodied condition that was of profound significance for the soul. If certain souls can remain ‘pure’ in their descent into the body – souls such as that of Pythagoras – retaining thus their relation to transcendent divine being, many others lose this relation: they descend entirely and their embodied state becomes constitutive of their identity. This means for them that materiality is of much greater significance in the question of the divinization or salvation of the soul.42 Despite the fact that the material world and the body are not construed as evil, but rather as a tool for the soul, the separation of the soul from the body still is the final goal. Dionysios’ reflections upon body and soul are different. Since he belongs to the Christian tradition in which the resurrection of the body is a central tenet, its separation of the soul cannot be the final aim.43 In the last chapter of “On Ecclesiastical Hierarchy”, Dionysios presents the rites of burial and discusses conceptions of man and life after death. According to some philosophers, upon death the soul just dies along with the body, according to others it becomes separated from body, and some maintain that the soul is reincarnated. Views of this sort, says Dionysios, are unjust towards the body as it has fought alongside the soul and thus deserve to be rewarded at the end of this race.44 40

41 42 43 44

Cf. (Ps.-)P, Alc. I 129a–130c (G. E, ed. Platon: Werke in acht Bänden, griechisch und deutsch. Darmstadt, 1990); P, Vita Plotini 1, 1f. (ed. H, B, and T). Cf. N, see n. 10, 210; P. H. Neoplatonist Spirituality I. Plotinus and Porphyr. In: Classical Mediterranean Spirituality. Egyptian, Greek, Roman. Ed. by A. H. A. New York, 1989, 230–249, 231. Cf. N, see n. 10, 212; O’M, see n. 11, 125; N, see n. 10, 213. O’M, see n. 11, 124f. Cf. S. L. Introduzione. In: Pseudo-Dionigi l’Areopagita: La Gerarchia ecclesiastica. Roma, 2002, 5–40, 37. EH 121, 10–17 (553BC). Cf. R, L’univers dionysien. Structure hiérarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys, see n. 4, 191f. G. H. Anmerkungen zu Über die kirchliche Hierarchie. In: Dionysius Areopagita: Über die himmlische Hierarchie. Über die kirchliche Hierarchie. Ed. by G. H. Stuttgart, 1986, 179, n. 4–6.

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If the deceased lived, body and soul, a life pleasing to God, his body will deserve to have a share of the honors bestowed on the soul which was its companion in the sacred struggle. That is why divine justice links the body with the soul when final judgment is rendered to the soul, for the body also took part in the same journey along the road of holiness or impiety.45 The body fought with the soul and it walked along the same road, therefore it must be rewarded. On this view, body and soul together receive a life in perfection and immortality, an idea that seems to be inconceivable for the pagan authors.46 Hence the blessed ordinance grant divine communion to both the one and the other [i.e. body and soul]. They do so for the soul by way of pure contemplation, together with the understanding of sacred rites. And they do so for the body by way of the imagery of the most divine ointment and through the most sacred symbol of the divine communion.47 In every sacrament soul and body are treated, and the sacramental efficacy is based on this corporeal participation, contemplation alone could not guarantee this effect. Contemplation and understanding are important, even vital, but the reflection on the baptism of children shows that in this marginal case it is not necessary for the participant to understand the meaning of the rites. Though the reflections on the baptism of children might appear as an appendix, the problem Dionysios treats here is of vital importance for the whole conception of liturgy. When he 45

46

47

EH 129, 24–28 (565B) (L, R, and R): Εἰ γὰρ ἐν ψυχῇ καὶ σώματι τὴν θεοφιλὴ ζωὴν ὁ κεκοιμημένος ἐβίω, τίμιον ἔσται μετὰ τῆς ὁσίας ψυχῆς καὶ τὸ συναθλῆσαν αὐτῇ σῶμα κατὰ τοὺς ἱεροὺς ἱδρῶτας. ῎Ενθεν ἡ θεία δικαιοσύνη μετὰ τοῦ σφετέρου σώματος αὐτῇ δωρεῖται τὰς ἀμοιβαίας λήξεις ὡς ὁμοπορεύτου καὶ συμμετόχου τῆς ὁσίας ἢ τῆς ἐναντίας ζωῆς. Cf. DN 191, 15–192, 5 (856D); EH 121, 17–21 (553C). Cf. R, L’univers dionysien. Structure hiérarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys, see n. 4, 192. Surprisingly W thinks that the body is excluded from salvation (K. P. W. Christological doctrine and liturgical interpretation in Pseudo-Dionysius. St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 33 (1989), 53–73, 72; K. P. W. Appendix. A Reply to Hieromonk Alexander’s Reply. St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 34 (1990), 324–327, 327). EH 129, 29–130, 5 (565BC) (L, R, and R): Διὸ καὶ τῶν ἱερῶν ἡ θεία θεσμοθεσία τὰς θεαρχικὰς κοινωνίας ἀμφοῖν δωρεῖται, τῇ ψυχῇ μὲν ἐν καθαρᾷ θεωρίᾳ καὶ ἐπιστήμῃ τῶν τελουμένων, τῷ σώματι δὲ κατὰ τὸ θειότατον ὡς ἐν εἰκόνι μύρον καὶ τὰ τῆς θεαρχικῆς κοινωνίας ἱερώτατα σύμβολα, τὸν ὅλον ἄνθρωπον ἁγιάζουσα καὶ τὴν ὁλικὴν αὐτοῦ σωτηρίαν ἱερουργοῦσα καὶ τελεωτάτην αὐτοῦ τὴν ἀνάστασιν ἔσεσθαι διαγγέλλουσα ταῖς καθολικαῖς ἁγιστείαις.

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discusses the rites of burial and the baptism of children he develops the basis for the conception of sacramental efficacy.48

Images and symbols If man is considered to be a unity of soul and body he is not capable of a direct intelligence of god, he needs the mediation of the sensible and of the body.49 Dionysios speaks of a cheiragôgia, of a hand tended towards man in order to guide him upwards.50 This cheiragôgia consists above all in symbols and images used in the Scriptures (names of God and the angels) and in the ecclesiastical hierarchy; the whole ceremony and all of its parts are images. He says: “our own hierarchy is itself symbolical and adapted to what we are”.51 In the treatise “On divine names” Dionysios speaks of “sacred veils” and a covering of the truth, of clothing that hides in things with “shape and form” “things which have neither”.52 Symbolic tradition represents an adaptation that allows these concepts to be conveyed to men who do not possess the capacity to understand what is beyond form and being. The understanding has to be led to these truths gradually; symbols and images are veils that present the divine light in many colours, which have been adapted to human eyes. If it were not done in this way, 48

49

50 51 52

Cf. S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1, chapter “Vollzug und Verständnis”, 202–210. Cf. E. D. P. Symbol, Sacrament, and Hierarchy in Saint Dionysios the Areopagite. The Greek orthodox theological review 39 (1994), 311–356, 340f. L, Pagan theurgy and christian sacramentalism in Denys the Areopagite, see n. 18, 438. Therefore, I see no reason to think like D and W and B that this passage is just an addition (B. B. Sekundäre Textpartien im Corpus Pseudo-Dionysiacum? Literarkritische Beobachtungen zu ausgewählten Textstellen. Göttingen, 1975, 102–110, esp. p. 103, n. 4; D and W, see n. 1, 8 and n. 34). R criticises D and W (T. R. Eros as Hierarchical Principle: A Re-evaluation of Dionysius’ Neoplatonism. Dionysius 27 (2009), 71–96, 76f.), and so does D (F. D. Methexis, Rationalität und Mystik in der Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita. Berlin, 2011, 325, n. 724). Cf. D A, see n. 29, 450; C.-A. B. Les formes de la Théologie chez Denys l’Aréopagite. Gregorianum 59 (1978), 39–69, 63; C.-A. B. La triple forme du discours théologique dionysien au moyen âge. In: Denys l’Aréopagite et sa postériorité en Orient et en Occident. Actes du Colloque International, Paris, 21–24 septembre 1994. Ed. by Y. D A. Paris, 1997, 503–515; R. R. Introduction. In: Denys l’Aréopagite: La hiérarchie céleste. Ed. by M. de G. SC 58. Paris, 1958, V–XLVIII, XXI; R, L’univers dionysien. Structure hiérarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys, see n. 4, 174. Cf. O. S. “Das ausstrahlende und emporziehende Licht. Die Theologie des PseudoDionysius in systematischer Darstellung”. Dissertation. Bonn, 1947, 230. EH 68, 2–4 (377A) (L, R, and R). Cf. S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1, 178–186. DN 114, 1–7 (592B) (L, R, and R).

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one would be blinded as if one had stared into a bright light. Hereby, the eyes are supposed to get used to the light slowly in order to reach higher understanding.53 And so, using images derived from the senses they [i.e. the first leaders of our hierarchy] spoke of the transcendent. They passed on something united in a variegation and plurality. Of necessity they made human what was divine. They put material on what was immaterial. In their written and unwritten initiations, they brought the transcendent down to our level.54 All the images and symbols are means by which we are guided upwards: For it is quite impossible that we humans should, in any immaterial way, rise up to imitate and to contemplate the heavenly hierarchies without the aid of those material means capable of guiding us as our nature requires. Hence, any thinking person realizes that the appearances of beauty are signs of an invisible loveliness.55 The aim of the use of symbols is anagogy, the uplifting of the soul. Since Dionysios speaks of different images and symbols (eikones, symbola) in his treatises, there has arisen a debate about whether their manner of uplifting is the same in all the contexts. There are images that are names of God or of the angels, names that can be similar and dissimilar – similar or high names like sun and light, middle names like fire and water, and lower, dissimilar names like stone, oil, worm etc.56 In his treatise “On celestial Hierarchy” Dionysios says that the advantage of dissimilar images is that they are shocking images that make us understand easily that God is beyond them while similar images might encourage us to think that God is as they describe him. Dissimilar images work against the ‘tendency towards the material” (proshylon); they work anagogically like negative theology. The images and symbols Dionysios speaks of in the treatise “On Ecclesiastical Hierarchy” are, on the contrary, said to be precise, adequate, appropriate and beautiful.57 They are 53 54 55

56 57

Cf. CH 8, 10–13 (121BC); CH 11, 11–16 (140A); EH 73, 11–15 (397A). EH 67, 20–23 (376D–377A) (L, R, and R). Cf. EH 67, 12–14 (376C). CH 8, 19–9, 1 (121CD) (L, R, and R): ἐπεὶ μηδὲ δυνατόν ἐστι τῷ καθ’ ἡμᾶς νοῒ πρὸς τὴν ἄϋλον ἐκείνην ἀναταθῆναι τῶν οὐρανίων ἱεραρχιῶν μίμησίν τε καὶ θεωρίαν, εἰ μὴ τῇ κατ’ αὐτὸν ὑλαίᾳ χειραγωγίᾳ χρήσαιτο τὰ μεν φαινόμενα κάλλη τῆς ἀφανοῦς εὐπρεπείας ἀπεικονίσματα λογιζόμενος. Eriugena translated the notion ὑλαίᾳ χειραγωγίᾳ with materialis manuductio. Cf. EH 88, 24f. (437B). Cf. CH 15, 10–21 (144C–145A). S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1, 197–202 Cf. EH 77, 9f. (401C); EH 77, 24f. (404B). Cf. R, L’univers dionysien. Structure hiérarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys, see n. 4, 206, n. 2; R, Introduction, see n. 49, XXIIf. R. R. Structures théologiques de la gnose à Saint-Victor. Paris, 1962, 195.

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not incongruous like those used in the Bible. There is no shocking dissimilarity that opposes man’s tendency towards the material, but neither is there the seducing danger of material beauty. According to the logic of high, middle and low images of On celestial hierarchy,58 the myron/the holy oil and its fragrance should be shockingly dissimilar, but it is not; it is, on the contrary, adequate and beautiful.59 The myron is the image of knowledge; it is even a symbol of Christ. Many images in the liturgy are not so-called high images, they are fragrances, water, unctions, bread and wine, gestures etc. – these are addressed to the lower senses. Apparently, the categories ‘similar’ and ‘dissimilar’ are not valid in the liturgy. An adequate or precise image in the Ecclesiastical Hierarchy is not the same thing as a similar image in the Celestial Hierarchy. In the context of liturgy, it is not the conventional order of things, but the actual effect that counts – the beauty of a fragrance, for instance. Though the liturgical images are different from the dissimilar and similar images of the Bible R suggest in his book Biblical and liturgical symbols that there is no methodological difference between biblical and liturgical images. Though the liturgical images in the hierarchy are said to be precise and adequate, he thinks that they are based on the same principle as the biblical images.60 Therefore, he concludes that the anagogical function depends on interpretation only: “PseudoDionysius invariably linked the uplifting movement to the spiritual process of understanding the rituals and never to the rites by themselves.”61 According to R, this is an important difference between Dionysios and Iamblichos. While the pagan author sees the anagocial value in the ritual itself,62 according to Dionysios “the uplifting does not occur by virtue of the rites or symbols by themselves” but rather in “their spiritual interpretation.”63

58 59 60

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Cf. CH 15, 10–16 (144CD). Cf. R, L’univers dionysien. Structure hiérarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys, see n. 4, 276. Cf. R, Biblical and liturgical symbols within the Pseudo-Dionysian Synthesis, see n. 21, 49–65, 95f. Cf. P. R. The Place of The Mystical Theology in the Pseudo-Dionysian Corpus. Dionysius 4 (1980), 87–97, 94; P. R. The Uplifting Spirituality of PseudoDionysius. In: Christian Spirituality. Origins to the Twelfth Century. Ed. by B. M and J. M. London, 1986, 132–151, 137. R, Biblical and liturgical symbols within the Pseudo-Dionysian Synthesis, see n. 21, 109. Cf. R, Biblical and liturgical symbols within the Pseudo-Dionysian Synthesis, see n. 21, 109; R, Iamblichus and the Anagogical Method in Pseudo-Dionysian Liturgical Theology, see n. 21, 455. R, Biblical and liturgical symbols within the Pseudo-Dionysian Synthesis, see n. 21, 116; Cf. R, Iamblichus and the Anagogical Method in Pseudo-Dionysian Liturgical Theology, see n. 21, 454–456; R, Biblical and liturgical symbols within the Pseudo-Dionysian Synthesis, see n. 21, 104, 110, 121, 129; R, The Uplifting Spirituality of Pseudo-Dionysius, see n. 60, 137f.

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But the difference between Iamblichos and Dionysios is much more complicated; Iamblichos is also interested in interpretation and Dionysios in the practice of liturgy. It is true that interpretation and purification of liturgical images are important for Dionysios. In the part of the chapter called theôria he reflects on the sense of images and symbols. He explains them in terms of purification64 and the desire to reach the “truth of its divine original.”65 But, if it were the case that the uplifting took place only through interpretation, there would then be no room for sacramental efficacy; it would even be surprising why one had to perform the liturgy at all.66 Yet such performance is necessary. According to Dionysios, therefore, the practice of the liturgy and the understanding of the symbolic value are of equal importance, and are crucially linked. Sacramental efficacy is based on this corporeal participation; pure contemplation is not sufficient.67 The anagogical power is based on the practice of the rites. Yet, what is central for Iamblichos – the correct performance of unintelligible rites – is just a marginal case for Dionysios. In the case of the baptism of children, they are too young to understand the rites, therefore they only participate in it without understanding; for other members of the hierarchy, such unconscious participation is impossible. For them, understanding is of vital importance. The hierarchy is a system of mediation of knowledge, leading the members to higher understanding. Beauty Dionysios is faithful to the Platonic and Neoplatonic traditions in linking ‘goodness’ and ‘beauty’. One has to consider, he writes, that the appearances of beauty are signs of an invisible loveliness. The beautiful odors which strike the senses are representations of a conceptual diffusion. Material lights are images of the outpouring of an 64 65 66

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Cf. EH 82, 13f. (428D): τὸ νοητὸν τοῦ πρώτου τῶν ἀγαλμάτων ἀπογυμνώσαντες. EH 81, 15f. (428A) (L, R, and R): μετὰ τὰς εἰκόνας ἐν τάξει καὶ ἱερῶς ἐπὶ τὴν θεοειδῆ τῶν ἀρχετύπων ἀλήθειαν. Cf. R, L’univers dionysien. Structure hiérarchique du monde selon le Pseudo-Denys, see n. 4, 267: “Faut-il dire que tout est symbolique, au sens actuel et restreint de ce terme, dans le sacrement de l’union? Et, par suite, faut-il dénier à ce sacrement toute réalité et toute efficacité?” Cf. S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1, chapter “Vollzug und Verständnis”, 202–210; L, Pagan theurgy and christian sacramentalism in Denys the Areopagite, see n. 18, 436; cf. the theological debate between W and G (W, Christological doctrine and liturgical interpretation in Pseudo-Dionysius, see n. 46; A. G. “On the other hand” [A Response to Fr Paul Wesche’s Recent Article on Dionysius in St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly, Vol. 33, No. 1]. St Vladimir’s Theological Quarterly 34 (1990), 305–323; W, Appendix. A Reply to Hieromonk Alexander’s Reply, see n. 46).

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immaterial gift or light. The thoroughness of sacred discipleship indicates the immense contemplative capacity of the mind. Order and rank here below are signs of the harmonious ordering toward the divine realm. The reception of the most divine Eucharist is a symbol of participation in Jesus.68 The sensible beauty is an image of divine beauty – that is, of course, a Platonic idea – but in Dionysios this includes also the rites of the hierarchy:69 Having looked on the fine exterior appearance of this splendid and sacred ceremony, let us now gaze into its more divine beauty. Let us see it for what it is, stripped of its veils, shiningly available in its blessed splendor, filling us abundantly with that fragrance which is apparent only to people of intelligence.70 Dionysios distinguishes the outer beauty from the more divine beauty that is like a beauty hidden behind veils in the innermost part of the temple: But let us leave behind as adequate for those uninitiated regarding contemplation these signs which, as I have said, are splendidly depicted on the entrances to the inner sanctuary. We, however, when we think of the sacred synaxis [i.e. the Eucharist] must move in from effects to causes and in the light which Jesus will give us, we will be able to glimpse the contemplation of the conceptual things clearly reflecting a blessed original beauty. And you, O most divine and sacred sacrament: Lift up the symbolic garments of enigmas which surround you. Show yourself clearly to our gaze. Fill the eyes of our mind with a unifying and unveiled light.71 68 69

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CH 8, 21–9, 6 (121D–124A) (L, R, and R). This aspect is often left aside when scholars concentrate on On Divine Names, cf. D. N. K. Le beau chez Denys. Diotima 23 (1995), 99–105; W. H. Gab es eine mittelalterliche Ästhetik aus platonischer Tradition? In: Neuplatonismus und Ästhetik. Zur Transformationsgeschichte des Schönen. Ed. by V. O. L and C. O. Berlin, New York, 2007, 19–42, 24; J. H. Schönheit und Bild im Neuplatonismus. In: Neuplatonismus und Ästhetik. Zur Transformationsgeschichte des Schönen. Ed. by V. O. L and C. O. Berlin, New York, 2007, 43–57, 45–47. EH 97, 4–8 (476B) (L, R, and R). Φέρε δὴ λοιπὸν ἐπειδὴ τὴν ἐκτὸς εὐπρέπειαν ἐθεασάμεθα τῆς ὅλης καλῆς ἱερουργίας, εἰς τὸ θειότερον αὐτῆς ἀποβλέψωμεν κάλλος, αὐτὴν ἐφ’ ἑαυτῆς ἀποκαλυψαμένην τὰ παραπετάσματα, θεώμενοι τὴν μακαρίαν ἀποστίλβουσαν ἐμφανῶς αἴγλην καὶ τῆς ἀπερικαλύπτου τοῖς νοεροῖς ἀποπληροῦσαν ἡμᾶς εὐωδίας. EH 82, 5–12 (428BC) (L, R, and R).

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The image of the sanctuary is a Plotinian image.72 The sensible beauty moves and touches as it shows the “trace of the familiar,”73 yet, as it is only “image” and “shadow” one has to flee away from it into the sanctuary in order to reach the real and noetic beauty.74 Dionysios transforms this image into liturgy; here it is not, like in Plotinos, the movement away from sensible beauty, rather, one has to find a higher beauty in the beauty of liturgy. In performing the rites, one does not stop seeing the exterior beauty, but one is able to see more in it than the uninitiated. Therefore, the exterior is, on the one hand, an introduction for those who are still on a basic level,75 but it is, on the other hand, not merely introductory, as higher orders are able to see in it deeper truths than laity. Beauty has a power of mediation.76 This is, of course, a Platonic topos,77 which Dionysios also employs in “On divine names” where he links κάλλος (kallos, beauty) and καλεῖν (kalein, to call).78 It is often said that the reflections on beauty in “On divine names” present beauty as a category of metaphysics – everything is beautiful because it partakes in beauty – and that aesthetics does not enter the picture. If, however, on takes into account the treatise “On ecclesiastical hierarchy” in which Dionysios mentions the beauty of rites, it is clear that beauty is more that just a category of metaphysics, and is linked to aesthetics as well. But it is never a matter of the splendor of liturgy, for Dionysios never mentions the architecture, the decoration of the church, the garments etc.79 The liturgy construed as hierourgia, as a holy action, as continuation of theourgia, is a thing of beauty. Unlike in the case of the dissimilar images, in the case of the liturgy, there is no gap between the outward appearance and the judgment of the intellect. The beauty of liturgical images is not seductive, but it works anagogically in itself and uplifts the perceiver 72

73 74 75 76 77 78

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Cf. P, Enn. I 6 [1] 8, 1–3; VI 9 [9] 11, 16–19 (ed. H and S; ed. and tr. A). Cf. D A, see n. 29, 435, n. 52; A. L. St Denys the Areopagite and the Iconoclastic Controversy. In: Denys l’Aréopagite et sa postériorité en Orient et en Occident. Actes du Colloque International, Paris, 21–24 septembre 1994. Ed. by Y. D A. Paris, 1997, 329–339, 329. P, Enn. I 6 [1] 2, 9f. (ed. H and S; ed. and tr. A). P, Enn. I 6 [1] 8, 6–8 (ed. H and S; ed. and tr. A). Cf. EH 73, 19–21 (397B). Cf. EH 64, 4–6 (372B). Cf. P, Symp. 202a–212c (E, see n. 40). Cf. DN 151, 5–10 (701CD): Τὸ δὲ ὑπερούσιον καλὸν κάλλος μὲν λέγεται [. . . ] καὶ ὡς πάντα πρὸς ἑαυτὸ καλοῦν, ὅθεν καὶ κάλλος λέγεται. Cf. W. B. Dionysios Areopagites ein christlicher Proklos? In: Platonismus im Christentum. 2nd ed. Frankfurt am Main, 2001, 44–84, 69–72; W. B. The Love of Beauty and the Love of God. In: Classical Mediterranean Spirituality. Egyptian, Greek, Roman. Ed. by A. H. A. New York, 1989, 293–313, 307. Cf. R, The Uplifting Spirituality of Pseudo-Dionysius, see n. 60, 138, 148. Cf. also S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1, 210–215.

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to the more divine beauty. This beauty of liturgy is accessible to the senses – even to the lower senses – and to the intellect; therefore a reflected participation is, not only possible, but required. Those who are at a lower level only see the exterior beauty, which already helps them in their ascent. Those who are deeply initiated are able to see a more divine beauty in the exterior beauty while they are performing the ritual. Conclusion There clearly is an involvement of aesthetic components in pagan theurgy. The rituals have an aesthetic value: they are performed; symbols, tokens and statues are used; hymns are sung.80 There are revelations, especially connected to light: “then he [i.e. Proclus] held converse [. . . ] with the luminous apparitions of Hecate, which he saw with his own eyes”.81 Thus both body and soul are included in the performance of the rites; pure thought is not sufficient. Though this is not part of aesthetics in a modern narrow sense, it is a question of aesthetics in a broader sense, including all the questions of sense perception, ritual and beauty. This becomes even clearer when one takes into account the Christian transformation of these ideas by Dionysios the Areopagite. Although in the remarks above I have only been able to present a small part of my work on Dionysios, it is, I think, obvious that this treatise deserves philosophical attention, especially as it is an important and interesting complement to and correction of the other treatises.82 In this paper, I focused on the philosophy of religion. Today, very often, religion is reduced to a system of beliefs or an ethical code; here it is presented as a practice of ritual with aesthetic value. The rites are conceived as images, they are perceived through sense-perception and they are then interpreted and contemplated; their beauty is, therefore, perceived by both sense-perception and intellect. Thus neither a strict observance of unintelligible rites nor a pure contemplation and interpretation of the rites is sufficient. Intellect, soul, the senses and the body are all included in the practice of ritual that is at the same time an aesthetic sensory 80

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In his book on Proklos’ hymns, V D B shows that “Proclus’ hymns may be understood as theurgical devices” (V D B, see n. 16, 79), he presents the hymns as part of theurgy, he analyses the use of symbols, of prayer, and he discusses the potential ritual context of the hymns (V D B, see n. 16, 86–111; chapter V “The Hymns: Theurgy in Practice”). M, Vita Procli, 28, 17–19 (H. D. S and A.-P. S, eds. Marinus: Proclus ou sur le bonheur. Paris, 2001). English translation in V D B, see n. 16, 75, 75. Concerning the apparitions cf. L. B. Inkubation, Photagogie und Seelengefährt bei Iamblich. Zum Zusammenhang von Mystik, Ritual und Metaphysik in Iamblichs De Mysteriis und in den Chaldaeischen Orakeln. In: Die Chaldaeischen Orakel: Kontext – Interpretation – Rezeption. Ed. by H. S and M. T. Heidelberg, 2010, 79–92. For further aspects not or only briefly mentioned here, cf. S, Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysius Areopagita, see n. 1.

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experience, and a mediation of understanding. Dionysios explains and defends the uplifting power of images and beauty, and, as a result, has been falsely presented by some modern scholars as an author who defends paintings and icons.83 Yet, Dionysios’ object is not paintings and statues, he hardly mentions them at all, they are never reflected upon or interpreted by him. But what he says of the anagogical power of biblical and liturgical images can of course be employed in a defence of the use of icons, as was done during the iconoclastic controversy.84 Furthermore, Abbot Suger of St.-Denis in Paris was probably inspired by Dionysios’ texts when he wrote about the anagogical power of sensible beauty.85

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Cf. U. R. J. Philosophie der Kunst und Theorie des Schönen bei Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites. Documenti e studi sulla tradizione filosofica medievale 7 (1996), 1–38, 3, 12, 23; U. R. J. Pseudo-Dionysius Areopagita (Dionysius Areopagita). In: Ästhetik und Kunstphilosophie. Von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart in Einzeldarstellungen. Ed. by J. N. R and M. B. Stuttgart, 1998, 649–654; K, see n. 69, 105; C. R. Il simbolo dionisiana dell’estetica teologica. Salesianum 32 (1970), 47–91; P. W. Sukzession und Gegenwart. Zu theoretischen Äußerungen über bildende Künste und Musik von Basileios bis Hrabanus Maurus. Wiesbaden, 1997, 100–115; J. F. The Works of S. Dionysius the Areopagite, especially in relation to Christian Art. The Sacristy. A Quarterly Review of Ecclesiastical Art and Literature 2 (1972), 12–39. Concerning Dionysios’ conception of image cf. S, Eikonographia. La pensée de l’image selon Denys l’Aréopagite, see n. 2. Cf. E. P. Abbot Suger: On the abbey church of St. Denis and its art treasures. Princeton, 1946; O. von S. Die gotische Kathedrale. Darmstadt, 1968; C. M. Gibt es eine “Theologie der gotischen Kathedrale”? Heidelberg, 1995 denies it; S (A. S. Abt Sugers Schriften zur fränkischen Königsabtei Saint-Denis. In: Abt Suger von Saint-Denis. Ausgewählte Schriften. Ordinatio. De consecratione. De administratione. Ed. by A. S and G. B. Darmstadt, 2000, 13–66, 32f. A. S. Vom Verstehen mittelalterlicher Kunst. In: Mittelalterliches Kunsterleben nach Quellen des 11.-13. Jahrhunderts. Ed. by A. S and G. B. Stuttgart, 1993, 13–52; A. S. Art as Liturgy. Abbot Suger of Saint-Denis and the Question of Medieval Aesthetics. In: Roma, magistra mundi. Itineraria culturae medievalis. Mélanges offerts au Père L. E. Boyle à l’occasion de son 75e anniversaire. Ed. by J. H. Louvain-la-Neuve, 1998, 855–875) has doubts; P. K. Panofsky, Suger and St Denis. Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 50 (1987), 1–17 too. A well balanced philosophical account: W. B. Negati Affirmatio: Welt als Metapher. Zur Grundlegung einer mittelalterlichen Ästhetik. In: Eriugena. Grundzüge seines Denkens. Frankfurt am Main, 1976, 115–158.

Nikephoros Chumnos’ Treatise On Matter Monica Marchetto Nikephoros Chumnos’ treatise On Matter (ὅτι μήτε ἡ ὕλη πρὸ τῶν σωμάτων, μήτε τὰ εἴδη χωρίς, ἀλλ’ ὁμοῦ ταῦτα or Quod neque Materia ante Corpora) offers impressive testimony to both the theoretical profoundness and dialectical virtuosity of its author.1 Even though this paper will not concentrate exclusively on issues related to aesthetics in the proper sense of the word, it will focus on the subject of beauty in relation to and in close connection with a range of cosmological and metaphysical issues. To address these issues and to explore their relationship with the subject of beauty is an urgent task, especially since research on Chumnos at present – as has recently been pointed out by A and R – seems to have come to a complete stillstand.2 A notable exception to the general lack of interest in Chumnos – obviously apart from the contribution of A and R – has been the publication of a critical edition of Chumnos’ philosophical work by C.3 The study by A and R offers an editio princeps of a short text On the First and Simple Bodies (περὶ τῶν πρώτων καὶ ἁπλῶν σωμάτων), which is accompanied by an introductory study. Here the authors concentrate, on the one hand, on the stylistic and rhetorical aspects of the text4 and, on the other, make an attempt to position this short treatise against a larger background of Chumnos’ literary and philosophical output, as well as to show its place in respect to the Aristotelian, Platonic and Patristic traditions. 1

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The text of this treatise is cited in the edition of K. P. C. Το φιλοσοφικό έργο του Νικεφόρου Χούμνου. Thessalonik¯e, 2002, 42–57, hereafter abbreviated as MaC. It was published for the first time in J. F. B. Anecdota nova. Parisiis, 1844, 191–201, and was subsequently reedited in L. G. B. Νικηφόρου Χούμνου, Περὶ τῆς ὕλης καὶ τῶν ἰδεῶν, Εἰσαγωγή, κριτικὴ ἔκδοση καὶ νεοελληνικὴ μετάφραση. Philosophia 3 (1973), 339–381, the text is on p. 361–379. Cf. E. A and I. R. Filosofia rhetoricans in Niceforo Cumno: l’inedito trattato Sui corpi primi e semplici. Medioevo Greco 6 (2006), 1–40, 2. Cf. also p. 2, footnote 10 for a bibliography on Chumnos. C, see n. 1. Already V emphasized the rhetorical value of Chumnos’ philosophical writing: in Chumnos’ day, philosophy was pervaded by rhetoric and reduced to the role of ancilla theologiae. (Cf. J. V. Nicéphore Choumnos, homme d’État et humaniste byzantin. Paris, 1959, 123.) Cf. also A and R, see n. 2, 12. On the relationship between philosophy and rhetoric cf. L. P. La rhétorique de l’éloge dans le monde gréco-romain. Paris, 1993, I, 314–315 and II, 591–605 and S. E. P. Handbook of classical rhetoric in the Hellenistic period (330 BC – AD 400). Leiden, 1997.

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The short treatise On Matter, however, is glossed by these two scholars only briefly.5 C does offer a somewhat longer analysis of this text,6 but he limits himself to a critical consideration of the question of the universals in this treatise, while his treatment of the question of matter consists only of a brief summary of the arguments from Chumnos’ text. C continually makes references to Plato and Aristotle, but fails to consider the philosophical tradition of Late Antiquity7 and the Middle Byzantine Period,8 which witnessed an ulterior debate and a further elaboration of the problems that had initially been formulated by Plato and Aristotle. It is quite obvious that in his short treatise On Matter Chumnos mainly criticizes the metaphysics of Plato (in particular, Plato’s theory of ideas).9 It is also 5 6 7

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A and R, see n. 2, 26f. C, see n. 1, lxxii-lxxx. V underlined the importance of Chumnos’ philosophical work for the reconstruction of his attitude towards issues that were being debated in his own time, as well as traditions inherited from Antiquity: “Les différents ouvrages de Nicéphore Choumnos ne constituent pas l’exposé d’un système philosophique achevé et sont plutôt des essais sur des questions et des problèmes débattus de son temps. Ils font connaître sur ces points la pensée de l’auteur et permettent de préciser son attitude à l’égard des problèmes comme à l’égard des traditions héritées de l’Antiquité.” (V, see n. 4, 126.) In respect to the On the First and Simple Bodies, A and R also point out that it “contribuisce ad illuminare la ricezione del pensiero greco antico, soprattutto aristotelico e platonico, attraverso il filtro di una lunga tradizione commentaria, specialmente su di un Aristotele interpretato alla luce delle dottrine neoplatoniche, e la vitalità del dibattito filosofico in corso tra gli intellettuali bizantini all’epoca di Cumno.” (A and R, see n. 2, 39.) As has been pointed out already by A and R, see n. 2, 20, note 40 (who make reference to L), in the history of the transmission and development of Byzantine philosophy there is a gap between the proto- and the late Byzantine periods, a gap that extends from the 7th to the 11th centuries and which makes it particularly difficult to evaluate the commentaries which were written after the 11th century. (Cf. P. L. Le premier humanisme byzantin: notes et remarques sur enseignement et culture à Byzance des origines au 10e siècle. Paris, 1971, 210–213.) A and R point out with respect to the treatise On Matter that “non si deve tuttavia enfatizzare unilateralmente l’opposizione con il Platonismo, che in Cumno si ha soltanto quando le dottrine platoniche, come pure tutte le altre dottrine filosofiche antiche, risultano in contraddizione con le dottrine cristiane” (A and R, see n. 2, 26, note 70.) One notable aspect of Chumnos’ philosophical work is his “volontà di sintetizzare la cultura filosofica – ed anche retorica – antica con quella cristiana, un’istanza già ben presente in tutta la filosofia patristica.” With respect to the question of matter, the difficulties that arise in an attempt to reconcile Christian ideas with Platonic and Aristotelian conceptions are insurmountable, and so Chumnos ends up with a simple refutation of both Platonic and Aristotelian theories: “ni l’une ni l’autre opinion ne pouvait, en effet, s’accorder avec la doctrine chrétienne d’une création du monde ex nihilo par la volonté divine à la quelle se tient Choumnos.” (V, see n. 4, 137.) C also makes reference to Chumnos’ intention to defend Christian ideas but at the same time to harmonize them with philosophy whenever possible. (cf. C, see n. 1, lxxix.)

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evident that Chumnos has precise and direct knowledge of the works of Plato10 (and of Aristotle) to which he refers.11 The reception of the ancient philosophical tradition – within Chumnos’ philosophical work and in general on a broader horizon of Byzantine culture in the 13th and 14th centuries – necessarily involved the mediation of a tradition that educated men of the time (not least Chumnos), far from ignoring, actually took for granted. The present paper therefore aims to explore in some depth the question of matter in Chumnos’ treatise by looking, on the one hand, at the tradition within which it can be fully comprehended in its theoretical implications and, on the other hand, by exploring the aesthetical implications of the theses which this treatise contains. The incipit of the treatise On Matter locates this valuable contribution of a Byzantine intellectual within a long history of interpretations of Plato’s Timaios: the ὕλη which Chumnos introduces in the first line by saying that it was conceived by the Ancient Greeks as lacking form, shape and quality and as a principle or condition that is prior to and essential for the generation of both simple bodies and the whole world of phenomena, evokes the χώρα of the Timaios, which is invisible and formless (ἀνόρατον und ἄμορφον),12 “nurse of becoming” (ἡ γενέσεως τιθήνη),13 and gives place (χώρα) to all things that come into being. The reference to the Timaios becomes even more apparent just a few lines later when Chumnos explains that the adherents of this view, “when considering the creation (δημιουργία) of the bodies, wish to found (ἑδράσαι) the form in some substrate, which also has place (χώρα) for these forms.”14 However, the fact that Chumnos is aware of the tradition of the 10

11

12 13 14

In a lettre d’envoi to Theodoros Metochites which accompanied the treatise On Matter, and in which Chumnos apologizes for the unusual obscurity of his style, he makes reference in particular to two Platonic dialogues, the Timaios and the Parmenides: ἐν δὲ Τιμαίῳ καὶ Παρμενίδῃ, πρὸς οὓς ἡμῖν ἤδη καὶ ὁ νῦν ἀγὼν [. . . ] (cf. Letter 37 in B, see n. 1, 46, 7–14.) Cf. also B. B. Theodore Metochites’ Stoicheiosis astronomike and the study of natural philosophy and mathematics in early Palaiologan Byzantium. Göteborg, 2003, 171f. There no obvious reason why Chumnos’ direct use of ancient sources should diminish or even invalidate the influence of Aristotelian and Platonic commentators on Chumnos’ writings. However, this appears to be the opinion expressed by B, Νικηφόρου Χούμνου, Περὶ τῆς ὕλης καὶ τῶν ἰδεῶν, Εἰσαγωγή, κριτικὴ ἔκδοση καὶ νεοελληνικὴ μετάφραση, see n. 1, 346. Cf. also C, see n. 1, lxxii, note 4. For Chumnos’ philosophical education, cf. V, see n. 4, 30–31 and 186–192. Cf. P, Tim. 51 a7. Cf. P, Tim. 52d 4f. MaC, 42, 15–17. It is important to note that for Plato the χώρα does not receive the ideas, but their sensible imitations (μιμήματα), cf. Tim. 51b6. As is well known, Simplikios holds that it was from Tim. 51e–52d that Aristotle derived his view that Plato had conceived matter as being identical with space (cf. A, Phys. 4, 2, 209 b11–16; cf. S, In Phys., 540, 2

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controversial debates on matter – which were often related to the interpretations of the Timaios – is shown by the fact that after putting the question in a most general way, he immediately addresses it in more specific terms by means of dihairetic reasoning,15 i.e. by asking whether this matter (1.) is a body or incorporeal,16 and, if it is a body, (2) whether it is generated or not generated.17 In Enn. II 4, 1, Plotinos refers to the Aristotelian notion of matter as a substrate as well as to the Platonic conception of a receptacle; given that the need to admit a substrate or a receptacle is acknowledged by all those who have addressed the problem, Plotinos sets out to gain a firmer grasp of this underlying nature and it is at this point that he makes a distinction between those who conceive the ultimate substrate as a body and those who conceive it as incorporeal. According to Plotinos, some (it is the Stoics whom Plotinos has in mind here) sustain that beings are only bodies18 and “give it [i.e. matter] a body too, for they say that it is a body without quality (ἄποιος) and magnitude (μέγεθος).”19 Plotinos, then,

15

16 17 18 19

Diels; cf. also M. M. Ontologia e materia. Un confronto fra il Timeo di Platone e il De generatione et corruptione di Aristotele. In: Gigantomachia: convergenze e divergenze tra Platone e Aristotele. Ed. by M. M. Brescia, 2002, 35–104.) Cf. also R. S. The philosophy of the commentators 200–600 AD (400 years of transition, a sourcebook), vol. 2: Physics. London, 2005, 259f. Chumnos himself makes a reference to the method of dihairesis in his lettre d’envoi to Theodoros Metochites (cf. B, see n. 1, 46). On the Platonic method of division, see A. C. L. Plato’s description of division. In: Studies in Plato’s metaphysics. Ed. by R. E. A. 1965, 219–230. Aristotle criticizes the application of this method for the purpose of defining a genus or the lowest species (A, An. pr. I 31, 46a31ff.; An. po., II 5, 91 b 12–27), but in De Caelo I 2, as in other places, he does employ it to divide and understand a genus (locomotion). On Aristotelian criticism of the Platonic dihairesis, cf. R. R. Sprache und Dialektik in der Aristotelischen Philosophie. Amsterdam, 2000, 50ff. Cf. MaC, 43, 1–2. Cf. MaC, 43, 6. P, Enn. II 4, 1, 7–8 (A. H. A, ed. Plotinus: Enneads. London, 1966–1988, II, 107). P, Enn. II 4, 1, 13–14 (A, see n. 18, II, 107). In a different passage Plotinos raises a polemical question: “Then how is matter a principle if it is a body? For it is not possible for a body not to be many; and every body is composed of matter and quality. But if this one is body in a different way, they are calling matter body equivocally. But if three-dimensionality is the common characteristic of body, they are speaking of mathematical body; but if resistance accompanies three-dimensionality, then they are talking about something which is not one.” (Plot. Enn. VI 1, 26, 17–22, A, see n. 18, VI, 93–95) For Plotinos, matter cannot be identified with a body, because a body is constituted as such by the unity of matter and quality. Addressing this Stoic identification of a body with that which is extended in three dimensions, Plotinos objects that a mathematical body also is extended in three dimensions; this being so, what would distinguish the real body from a mathematical one? Because the Stoics conceived the body not only as extended in three dimensions, but also as resistance, Plotinos specifies that thinking it in this way (i.e. conceiving the body as extended in three dimensions and having resistance) means that a body could no longer be something unitary and simple, “The Stoics

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fervidly attacks the Stoics by affirming the necessity of conceiving the first substrate as incorporeal and lacking quality and magnitude. Plotinos’ arguments against the Stoics are adduced by Simplikios in his commentary on Physics. Here Simplikios specifies that matter cannot be body, because in that case matter would be composite and not simple, as is proper for a first substrate; it would also be of a certain form and magnitude and would no longer be able to receive all possible forms and magnitudes; it would no longer be indeterminate, but on the contrary made definite by the three dimensions.20 In conclusion, Simplikios distinguishes two types of bodies: the one type (i.e. body in the strict sense of the word) is defined by the three dimensions, while the other type (i.e. matter) is a mere indeterminate extension, a dispersion of that which flees from being, dissipating and dissolving into non-being. By means of his concept of “indefinite extension” or diffuseness, i.e. extension viewed separately from definite dimensions, Simplikios escapes the critical arguments which Plotinos had brought forward against the Stoics – i.e. the objection that all determinations, including three-dimensionality and magnitude, derive from form and not from matter – and introduces at the same time a type of corporeality which had neither been individuated by Plotinos as a separate level nor criticized by him:21

20

21

say that matter is body, but a) if it is merely three-dimensional, it will be merely mathematical body, b) if it is three-dimensional with resistance (antitupia) it will not be simple, but will be a compound of matter with quality.” (R. S. Matter, space and motion: theories in antiquity and their sequel. Ithaca, NY, 1988, 16.) For Plotinos, matter, in order to be a first substrate, not only is not a body (since being a body already implies that matter is combined with quality), but also should not have all other formal determinations, not even magnitude (μέγεθος) and quantity (cf. Plot. Enn. II 4, 8, 2–3 and 10–11, (A, see n. 18, II, 122). Plotinos, however, is aware of the difficulties of his theory of a prime matter that absolutely lacks the formal determinations, since he reports the objection of one of his critics, who asks him: “If it is without magnitude, what would it contribute, if it contributes neither to form and quality nor to extension and magnitude, which appears, wherever it occurs, to come to bodies from their matter?” (Plot. Enn. II 4, 11, 4–8, translation adapted from A, see n. 18, II, 131.) Plotinos replies to this objection decisively: “So, then, that which is going to receive the form must not be a mass (ὄγκος) [. . . ]” (Plot. Enn. II 4, 11, 25–26 A, see n. 18, II, 133). Matter has a certain predisposition towards magnitude and consequently towards extension (διάστημα) and mass (ὄγκος); however, taken in its original and authentic simplicity, it does not have magnitude. Nevertheless, matter is necessary as a receptacle of rational principles, because without it the bodies would not be able to exist as such: “they would only be rational principles [. . . ] and would not be bodies” (Plot. Enn. II, 4, 12, 4–5 A, see n. 18, II, 135). On the relationship between Plotinos and the Stoics, cf. A. G. Plotinus and the stoics: a preliminary study. Leiden, 1972 and L. P. G. Plotinus. London, 1994, 70f. Cf. S, In Phys., 229, 5–230, 15 Diels (French translation in P. G. Les commentaires de Simplicius et de Jean Philopon à la “Physique” d’Aristote: tradition et innovation. Berlin, 2008, 234–235). Cf. F. A. J. de H. John Philoponus’ new definition of prime matter: aspects of its background in Neoplatonism and the ancient commentary tradition. Leiden, 1997, 121f.

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So perhaps two notions of body should be postulated, the first existing in terms of form and formative principle, and made definite by the three dimensions (τρισὶν [. . . ] διαστάσεσι), the second in terms of a slackening, a spreading (ἔκτασις) and a lack of definiteness from [sic]22 the incorporeal, indivisible, intelligible reality (ἀοριστίαν τῆς ἀσωμάτου καὶ ἀμερίστου καὶ νοητῆς φύσεως). The second is not given a definite form by the three dimensions, but is everywhere slackened, and spilt, and flows from all sides away from being into non-being. And perhaps we should postulate that matter is dimension (διάστασις) [G translates into French: distanciation] of this sort.23 In his pro-Christian writings,24 John Philoponos firmly opposes25 the Plotinian idea of a prime matter that is incorporeal and lacks magnitude, even though 22

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This is the translation in S, The philosophy of the commentators 200–600 AD (400 years of transition, a sourcebook), vol. 2: Physics, see n. 14, 258, already in S, Matter, space and motion: theories in antiquity and their sequel, see n. 19, 22. S, In Phys. I 7, 230, 21–27 Diels; S, The philosophy of the commentators 200– 600 AD (400 years of transition, a sourcebook), vol. 2: Physics, see n. 14, 258; G, Les commentaires de Simplicius et de Jean Philopon à la “Physique” d’Aristote: tradition et innovation, see n. 20, 236. The change of perspective from a Neoplatonic to a Christian outlook that can be detected in John’s writings after 529 (the date of composition of De aeternitate mundi contra Proclum) is subject to an acute scholarly debate. The main positions are: (1) A. G and W. K. Ioannes Philoponus. In: Paulys Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft. Ed. by G. W and W. K. Vol. IX,2. Stuttgart, 1916, 1764–1795, who postulate a ‘conversion’ of a pagan John Philoponos to Christianity around this date; (2) K. V. The Development of Philoponus’ Thought and its Chronology. In: Aristotle Transformed. The Ancient Commentators and their Influence. Ed. by R. S. London, 1990, 233–274, who classifies some important writings of John Philoponos by isolating a number of crucial theoretical elements that can be identified as Neoplatonic and Christian respectively; and (3) C. S, ed. Johannes Philoponos: De opificio mundi. Freiburg, 1997, Bd. I, 21 and 30f. who does not accept the conclusions of V and contends that the discrepancies which may be detected in some of John’s commentaries on Aristotle do not necessarily betray the author’s change of mind, since the commentaries qua genre are not meant to serve as a forum for personal statements of their authors but rather to convey ‘standard’ opinions on the questions under consideration. G argues against any attempt to assimilate the position of Simplikios to that of John Philoponos: “La notion physique de la matière comme corps sans qualité, autrement dit ‘ce-en-troisdimensions’ dont parle Philopon dans le contra Proclum, est remplacée dans l’exposé de Simplicius par une notion métaphysique qui se situe en deçà même du langage ontologique.” (G, Les commentaires de Simplicius et de Jean Philopon à la “Physique” d’Aristote: tradition et innovation, see n. 20, 134) “La «distanciation matérielle» n’est pas une étendue corporelle déterminée, comme l’ont pensé les Stoïciens, Périclès de Lydie et, surtout, Philopon.” (G, Les commentaires de Simplicius et de Jean Philopon à la “Physique” d’Aristote: tradition et innovation, see n. 20, 138)

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in some of his other writings he accepts the conventional view of prime matter as a first substrate. In Contra Proclum, John Philoponos rejects the idea of the incorporeal prime matter (which had also been stated by Proklos)26 and considers instead the indefinite three-dimensional as the first subject.27 John Philoponos does not hesitate to use the Stoic term σῶμα ἄποιον to designate that three-dimensional which he conceives as the first substrate and which is – in spite of a convergence with a Stoic concept – an expression of a different theoretical stance.28 After all, [it was] from [the fact of ] change in bodies endowed with qualities that it was shown that something unchanging which is other than them must underlie them. So, if the three-dimensional (i.e. body devoid of qualities) does not change qua body except in so far as it is quantified, so that all change in bodies occurs with respect to largeness and smallness, what compelling factor [. . . ] still remains on the basis of which any one could conclude that something else incorporeal also underlies the three-dimensional and that it is not itself the first substrate of all things and matter as such, as the Stoics too rightly thought?29 In particular, John Philoponos demonstrates that: (1) the first substrate, i.e. that which persists through the elemental change (i.e. when water is changed into air), is not incorporeal, but, on the contrary, it is the body as such, i.e. the body which remains unchanged as body and which undergoes a change in its definite quantity and in its qualities; (2) in order to function as a first substrate matter does not necessarily need to be formless: not only can matter which is already formed (e.g. a piece of wood) serve as a material substrate of something different (e.g. a table),30 but also it is necessary for matter to have form already (i.e. three-dimensionality), if 26 27

28 29

30

Cf. P, In Parm. 1124. Cf. S, The philosophy of the commentators 200–600 AD (400 years of transition, a sourcebook), vol. 2: Physics, see n. 14, 264. The three-dimensional has been interpreted by scholars mainly in two different ways: a) as incorporeal extension in three dimensions (by M. W. Fallgesetz und Massebegriff: zwei wissenschaftshistorische Untersuchungen zur Kosmologie des Johannes Philoponus. Berlin, 1971, 109), b) as corporeal extension (by S, Matter, space and motion: theories in antiquity and their sequel, see n. 19, 26). W points out that the threedimensional is not incorporeal three-dimensionality but extended corporeality (C. W. John Philoponus’ criticism of Aristotle’s theory of aether. Berlin, 1988, 218). Cf. S, Matter, space and motion: theories in antiquity and their sequel, see n. 19, 37. J P, De aeternitate mundi. Contra Proclum, XI.3, 413, 23–414, 5 Rabe, translation by M. S. Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11. London, 2010, 74. Cf. J P, Contra Proclum, XI.7, 425, 25–426, 12 Rabe (S, Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11, see n. 29, 80).

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it is to be something existing and not just an empty name;31 (3) if the matter is conceived as incorporeal, then it is indivisible and cannot account for the divisibility of bodies to which it is supposed to contribute: [. . . ] division of a whole into parts is, whether the whole be homogeneous or non-homogeneous, the division of a body and a magnitude, since that which is incorporeal and without magnitude is without parts and so it will not even have whole and part. So, if matter is to have whole and part, it must be a magnitude and a body, not without magnitude and incorporeal [. . . ]32 In his Epitome Physica Nikephoros Blemmydes makes reference to the question of the corporeality of matter. With reference to Simplikios and the division into two types of bodies which he introduced, Blemmydes writes: Some have called this matter incorporeal (ἀσώματον), others, ‘body without quality’ (σῶμα ἄποιον); the ones did so because it is completely devoid of magnitude (ἀμεγέθη) and dimension (ἀδιάστατον), the others because it is like slackening (πάρεσις) and displacement (ἔκστασις)33 and lack of definiteness from34 the incorporeal, indivisible and intelligible reality (ἀοριστίαν τῆς ἀσωμάτου καὶ ἀμερίστου καὶ νοητῆς φύσεως). Thence they also called matter a body, not that which subsists according to form and is made eidetically definite by three dimensions, but rather that which is completely slackened (παρειμένον) and spilt (ἐκλελυμένον) and flows away on all sides from being into non-being.35 When Nikephoros Chumnos addresses the same question in his treatise On Matter, he shows that he is well aware of previous discussion on the subject. He 31 32 33

34 35

Cf. J P, Contra Proclum, XI. 7, 427, 23 Rabe (S, Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11, see n. 29, 81). J P, Contra Proclum, XI.8, 439, 9–14 Rabe (S, Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11, see n. 29, 88). This seems to be a literal quotation from S, In Phys. 230, 21–23. However, Blemmydes writes ἔκστασις and not ἔκτασις. This fact has been pointed out and discussed by P. G. Nicéphore Blemmyde lecteur du commentaire de Simplicius à la Physique d’Aristote. In: The libraries of the Neoplatonists: proceedings of the meeting of the European Science Foundation Network Late antiquity and arabic thought: patterns in the constitution of European culture held in Strasbourg, March 12 - 14, 2004. Ed. by C. D’A C. Leiden, 2007, 243–256, 254. Cf. note 22 on p. 36 above. N B, Epitome Physica II, 6 (PG 142, 1037 B).

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immediately asks a question that recollects John Philoponos:36 “how could the body come into being (γένοιτ’ ἂν) out of the incorporeal? Why would it be suitable (συμβάλλον εἰς) to [the constitution of ] the mass (ὄγκον) or the magnitude (μέγεθος) or to some other corporeal properties without which it is not possible for a body to be or to come into being?”37 Further on: “If prior to the bodies the matter does not participate in any form or shape, then it will be neither a body nor anything else at all, since it is neither able in any way to exist (ἑστάναι) on its own, nor does it participate in a form which draws it together (συνάγω) and keeps it from dispersing (συνέχω).”38 While stressing the impossibility of conceiving a matter which is completely devoid of form, Chumnos does not so much try to substitute the classical concept of prime matter with the concept of the three-dimensional extension, but rather to demonstrate the contradictoriness of the concept of matter as a substrate and a seat for forms. This is evident from the fact that he points out that to conceive matter – which is supposedly the base and seat for forms – as if it were in turn founded in the form means nothing less than to lapse into a circular argument which in the end proves to be inconsistent: If we conceded this to forms, namely that the matter, which flows and is dispersed, is irrevocably fixed and established in them, the complete opposite of what had been searched for and assumed would result. Initially, we investigated where the place for the forms is and upon what the things that have come into being could rest, and for this reason we have apprehended the matter by bastard reasoning with the aid of non-sensation. If we were to say now, on the contrary, that it rests on the forms and that this matter, which is always and to a highest degree fluid, is fixed firmly and remains in them, then we would arrive at a conclusion which is totally opposite to what we had assumed, as already said.39 The arguments of Chumnos are much more complex than they might seem at a first glance. Given that matter cannot be incorporeal, it remains to investigate with more precision whether it can be a body. At this point, a new alternative presents itself: is matter sensible and generated or is it non sensible and ungenerated? In the Timaios Plato distinguishes that which “is always being” (τὸ ὂν ἀεί) and can only be apprehended by thought, since it always remains the same and has no 36

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A similar question had been already formulated by Aristotle in the context of his polemics against the Platonic idea of a generation of bodies out of incorporeal realities, cf. A De caelo III 1, 299a. MaC, 43, 2–5. MaC, 46, 11–15. MaC, 46, 1–11.

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becoming, from that which is “always coming into being, but never is being” (τὸ γιγνόμενον μὲν ἀεί, ὂν δὲ οὐδέποτε), and is an object of opinion with the aid of reasonless sensation.40 The former is ungenerated (ἀγέννητον) and incorruptible (ἀνώλεθρον), the latter is sensible (αἰσθητόν) and generated (γεννητόν). The place for all things that come into being is apprehensible only by a bastard reasoning (λογισμῷ νόθῳ).41 It is against this background that Chumnos specifies that if matter is not sensible and ungenerated, then it is without beginning and eternal; if this is so, however, there are only two possibilities: either everything is reduced to a single being which is motionless and eternal, so that the dimension of becoming is annihilated, or this dimension of becoming itself is raised up to eternity, which renders that which is subject to change motionless.42 Moreover, if one assumes that matter is sensible (αἰσθητόν) and generated (γεννητόν), the difficulties are unavoidable: (1) According to Chumnos – who conflates a number of arguments here – it is neither clear how matter can be apprehended if it is assumed to be incorporeal;43 nor how it can be apprehended by a bastard reasoning (i.e. without sensation),44 if it is assumed to be sensible; (2) if matter is generated, one has to explain, out of what it comes into being: since all bodies require a seat in order to come into being, if the substrate which provides their seat should also come into being, what could be the seat for the substrate? But how can matter be a generated body? Upon what shall we settle the matter if any corporeal thing is even less able to remain stable outside its seat? If there should be some seat for matter, upon what shall we place that on which it is seated? And again, where will that [seat] be? The inquiry will go this way ad infinitum and will not lead to any finding.45 Proklos had already resorted to the inevitability of an infinite regress in order to corroborate the ungenerated character of matter in De aeternitate mundi. Since matter is for the sake of generation and since this relationship between matter and generation is not accidental – this would have been the case if matter had come into being out of nothing – but, on the contrary, necessary, because matter is brought into existence by a cause for the sake of generation, in his 11th argument Proklos sustains that matter is ungenerated and incorruptible, since otherwise it would in turn be in need of another matter; and so Proklos deduces from the eternity of 40 41 42 43 44 45

P, Tim. 27 d6–28 a1. P, Tim. 52 a1–b2. Cf. MaC, 43, 8–22. Cf. MaC, 43, 23–25. Cf. MaC, 44, 11. MaC, 45, 17–22.

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matter the eternity of that for the sake of which the matter is, i.e. he deduces the eternity of the world itself as the horizon of becoming: XI. Matter is for the sake of the all: for it is a receptacle of generation, as Plato says. And “that for the sake of which” matter is is nothing other than generation. If matter should be from nothing, then it would be for the sake of something by chance, and what is generated would have matter by chance [. . . ]. But if, alternatively, “for the sake of something” [that is, generation] and the matter of generation are from some cause, they must both, the matter and the generation, be together with one another [. . . ]. Therefore, if matter is eternal, and given that matter is for the sake of something, then generation is eternal. [. . . ]. And the matter is ungenerated and incorruptible, so that it should not be the case that matter, when it is absolutely, requires other matter. Therefore, the forms are in matter from eternity and so the cosmos is eternal.46 In this way Proklos corroborates the same thesis which is also found in his commentary on the Timaios: (1) The matter is indeed generated in the sense that it is brought into existence by a cause, which is not a Demiurge, because “matter proceeds both from the One and from the Unlimitedness which is prior to One Being”;47 (2) the matter is, however, ungenerated in the sense that it is not derived from other matter:48 Aristotle, indeed, has demonstrated that it is ungenerated in other ways, [namely] as being incomposite, as not coming into existence out of other matter, and as not being resolved back into other [matter].49 46

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P, De aeternitate mundi, apud J P, Contra Proclum, 403–403 Rabe (English translation in H. L, A. M, and J. MG. Proclus: On the Eternity of the world (de Aeternitate mundi). Berkeley, 2001, 95). P, In Tim. I, 385 Diehl (cf. also A. J. F. Proclus: Commentaire sur le Timée. Paris, 1966–1968, ii, 249); English translation from D. T. R and M. S. Proclus: Commentary on Plato’s Timaeus. Volume II. Book 2: Proclus on the Causes of the Cosmos and its Creation. Cambridge, 2008, 254. Cf. “Proclus [. . . ] ne refusant en aucun lieu à la matière d’être principiée, d’être issue d’un principe, la soustrait cependent à la génération qui est conceptuellement davantage associée à la temporalité, au devenir, au changement que ne l’est le mot principe” (P. M-J. Gloses et commentaire du livre XI du “Contra Proclum” de Jean Philopon autour de la matière première du monde. Leiden, 2011, 213). P, In Tim. I, 384 Diehl (cf. also F, see n. 47, ii, 247); English translation from R and S, see n. 47, 252. B comments on this passage as follows: “Aristoteles hat gezeigt, daß die Hyle in jeder anderen Hinsicht ungeworden ist, nicht jedoch ὡς ἀπ’αἰτίας. Genau dies ist jedoch der Streitpunkt. Denn auch Proklos ist der Ansicht, daß Aristoteles mit

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Against Attikos,50 who affirmed that a disorderly and ungenerated matter precedes the constitution of the world and that the world has been generated in temporal terms, Proklos maintains here that the disorderly matter and the visible universe must be considered together, which implies that they both must be either considered as having been generated in temporal terms or both as not having been generated in temporal terms. If both were ἀπὸ χρόνου γενητά, it would not be explained how a good Demiurge was able to create a disorder out of order: But if the universe, though both visible and generated, is not generated in temporal terms, then there is no necessity [for us], because the universe is visible and generated, immediately to make it generated in the temporal sense.51

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seinem Nachweis die Anfangs- und Endlosigkeit (ἀιδιότης) der Hyle erwiesen hat; doch schließt dieser Nachweis die weitere Frage nicht aus, ob die Hyle vollkommen unabhängig von Gott ist” (M. B. Die Weltentstehung des Platonischen Timaios nach den antiken Interpreten. Leiden, 1976–1978, part 2, 80). While Plutarch sustains that the world has been generated together with time but not in time [= in temporal terms], since for him there can be no precosmic time, Attikos maintains that the world not only really did come into being but also has been generated in time. On the teachings of Plutarch and Attikos, cf. H. D and M. B, eds. Die philosophische Lehre des Platonismus: platonische Physik (im antiken Verständnis) II: Bausteine 125–150: Text, Übersetzung, Kommentar. Stuttgart- Bad Cannstatt, 1998, 414–416. P, In Tim. I, 285 Diehl (cf. also F, see n. 47, ii, 132); English translation from R and S, see n. 47, 137. Cf. B, see n. 49, part 2, 30ff. It is well known that Kalvenos Tauros, a middle Platonist, tried to define the meanings of the word γενητόν, which did not imply the generation in time. (cf. T apud J P, Contra Proclum, VI.8, 145, 1–147, 25 Rabe; M. S. Philoponus: Against Proclus’s On the eternity of the world, 6 – 8. Ithaca, N.Y., 2005, 28–30). By means of these distinctions Tauros aimed to show that “Plato is not using generated in the sense in which we describe as generated things that have come into existence from any temporal beginning (ἀπό τινος ἀρχῆς χρόνου)” (Contra Proclum, VI.8, 146, 4–7; S, Philoponus: Against Proclus’s On the eternity of the world, 6 – 8, see n. 51, 28). Porphyrios takes up the meanings of this word which had been specified by Tauros and expands the list by several additional meanings, pointing out that if the word γενητόν means that which “have had a beginning from a [point of ] time without previously having existed”, Plato “did not describe the world as generated” in this sense. (P apud J P, Contra Proclum, VI.8, 149, 11–14 Rabe; S, Philoponus: Against Proclus’s On the eternity of the world, 6 – 8, see n. 51, 30–31.) Cf. also C. K. Christliche Kosmologie und kaiserzeitliche Philosophie: die Auslegung des Schöpfungsberichtes bei Origenes, Basilius und Gregor von Nyssa vor dem Hintergrund kaiserzeitlicher Timaeus-Interpretationen. Tübingen, 2009, 186ff and B, see n. 49, part 1, 162. In particular, Porphyrios emphasizes the possibility of understanding γενητόν in the sense of “derived from another source” and criticizes the assumption of a matter which is understood as an ungenerated and independent principle which is not brought into existence by God. (cf. P, apud P, In Tim. I, 391 Diehl; (cf. also F, see n. 47, ii, 258); English translation in R and S, see n. 47, 264.) But Proklos is not satisfied and remarks that “[. . . ] for to say this [i.e. that the universe is simply derived from a

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In the 11th argument of De aeternitate mundi Proklos affirms the validity of the concept of the eternal matter by referring to the concept of becoming set out in Arist. Phys. I 9, 192 a29–31: since everything which comes into being, does so out of a material substrate, so the first substrate, if it had to come into being, would in turn require a substrate, and so on. John Philoponos decisively criticizes this kind of argumentation and especially its conclusion: everything which comes into being requires a material substrate, but this does not mean that the matter itself requires some other matter; it is true that the forms, in order to come into being, require a material substrate, but the substrate, if it is a substrate – and not something which is in a substrate – does not in turn require another substrate: [. . . ] is it [. . . ] necessary in natural generation that things that have their existence in a substrate should, if they are to come to be, have need of matter, or a substrate in which to come to be, since they cannot exist on their own, but that the substrate itself, or matter, will not, if it comes to be, have need of any [further] substrate or matter. For in that case it would no longer be a substrate, or matter, but be in a substrate and a form.52 John Philoponos is certainly ready to acknowledge that the material substrate in fact has a necessary relation with the form. But the fact that the enmattered form cannot exist without matter does not imply that the form is eternal; and so the fact that matter is always matter of a form and that it does not exist without a form does not render it an eternal matter: So, just as to say that forms need matter in order to come to be does not imply that enmattered forms are everlasting (they are in fact clearly seen to have a beginning and an end to their existence), neither does

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cause] is insufficient. After all, Intellect too is derived from a cause, namely the first cause, and all entities that exist after the One are derived from a cause, but they are not all generated. And where [would] the eternal [be], if everything is generated, for the One is anterior even to eternity? How, then, is the cosmos generated, one might ask. The answer is: as an object that is always coming into being (γιγνόμενον) and at the same time has come into being (γεγενημένον).” (Proklos, In Tim. I, 290 Diehl (cf. also F, see n. 47, ii, 141); English translation from R and S, see n. 47, 143f.) The universe is generated, therefore, not only in the sense that it depends on a cause or in the sense that it is composed, but also in the sense that it participates in time in its entirety: “Das Gewordensein der Welt meint weder ein Entstehen in einer Teilzeit, noch soll es einfach ihr Zusammengesetztsein ausdrucken, vielmehr ist es auch ein Hinweis darauf, daß die Welt an der gesamten Zeit teilhat und nicht ewig ist.” (B, see n. 49, part 2, 53). J P, Contra Proclum, XI.10, 450, 28–451, 9 Rabe; English translation from S, Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11, see n. 29, 95.

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the fact that matter needs forms if it is to exist imply that it is everlasting.53 In fact, John Philoponos, from a certain point of view, concedes that matter is unchangeable: in order to be able to function as a substrate, matter or, more precisely, the body (i.e. ‘the three-dimensional’) as such must remain unchanged. The fact that for that which comes into being there must be a substrate does not mean that the substrate itself changes into the substance of the thing which comes into being; the substrate (i.e. the three-dimensional as such) is a substrate exactly because it remains the same in the process of change: For if the substrate were to change to the substance of the thing that comes to be, the substrate would no longer keep to its own nature, because that from which a thing changes is no longer in it. The result would be that the matter would change qua matter and would no longer remain matter; and thus the trasformation of things into one another would have been done away with, since nothing would have remained unchanging [. . . ]. And so it is not possible that matter changes into the substance of the thing that comes to be.54 However, the fact that the substrate has to remain unchanged while particular things are transformed one into another does not mean that the substrate itself has to be ungenerated; on the contrary, according to John Philoponos, the matter (i.e. the three-dimensional as such) “should have a beginning to its existence and not be everlasting. And if it [sc. matter] has had a beginning to its existence, it has not come to be out of anything already in existence [. . . ], but, in no way existing before it comes to be, is brought from non-being into being by the one who created it.”55 These two aspects of John’s thought (firstly, the idea that the substrate has to be simple and unchanging and, secondly, that this fact does not preclude the possibility that this substrate could have had a beginning to its existence and could have been brought into existence by God or created out of nothing) are also present in Nikephoros Blemmydes: This matter is also imagined as indestructible and ungenerated; it is said that the form and privation, inasmuch as they are opposites, come 53 54 55

J P, Contra Proclum, XI.10, 451, 24–452, 2 Rabe; English translation from S, Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11, see n. 29, 96. J P, Contra Proclum, XI.10, 448, 7–16 Rabe; English translation from S, Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11, see n. 29, 93. J P, Contra Proclum, XI.12, 458, 6–9 [. . . ] 18–19 Rabe; English translation from S, Philoponus: Against Proclus: On the eternity of the world, 9–11, see n. 29, 100.

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into being and perish; and if the form is present, then privation is absent, and if privation is present, then the form is absent; generation and destruction are accomplished in this way; the matter which is a substrate and has substantiality according to that which is potentially (κατὰ τὸ δυνάμει οὐσιωμένη, cf. Simpl. In Phys. ix, 253, 31), is also in conjunction with privation; and it remains when the form is actually present and preserves its own immutability potentially; therefore it never changes from the state of potentiality to that of actuality but always remains what it is and receives form; and when the form withdraws, it again remains as it was before and in this way it neither comes into being nor perishes. Perhaps in some way the matter will be ungenerated and indestructible and in another way generated and perishable according to its nature. It will be ungenerated because it has not come into being out of any first substrate which exists by itself, for the matter itself is the first substrate and exists by itself. And again, it will be incorruptible according to the same argument, because there is for it no elemental principle, to which it will be further reduced [. . . ]. The matter is generated insofar as it has an efficient and a final cause, for it is created out of nothing at all (ἐκ τοῦ μηδαμῆ μηδαμῶς ὄντος) by God for the sake of the evidence and greatness of his goodness and power.56 Unlike Blemmydes, Nikephoros Chumnos is now interested not so much in demonstrating that the matter is both generated and ungenerated at the same time, albeit in a different sense, but rather in demonstrating that the concept of matter as a seat for forms is contradictory and comes to nothing. His effort is directed towards demonstrating that if someone takes refuge in the concept of matter in order to avoid the creatio ex nihilo, he will end up with conceiving something which is in itself nothing, thus falling back into the same nihil which he has been trying to avoid; in fact, the world is created by God out of nothing:57 If it is neither a body nor incorporeal, once separated from the forms (τῶν εἰδῶν ῥυεῖσα), then it will be nothing else at all. And so it was this, that is nothing, also before it was united with forms. Thus it is possible to find out that those who produce bodies out of it as if it 56 57

N B, Epitome Physica II, 7 (PG 142, 1037 B-D). Cf. B, Νικηφόρου Χούμνου, Περὶ τῆς ὕλης καὶ τῶν ἰδεῶν, Εἰσαγωγή, κριτικὴ ἔκδοση καὶ νεοελληνικὴ μετάφραση, see n. 1, 357: “Wie die Welt im ganzen eine Schöpfung Gottes ist, so ist auch die Materie vom Demiurg aus dem Nichts erschaffen; sie existiert also weder vor der Körperwelt noch von den Formen gesondert, mit denen sie ‘am Anfang’ gleichzeitig und als die beste Schöpfung des göttlichen Willens hervorgebracht wurde.”

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were something existing, while trying to avoid the out of nothing at all (τὸ ἐκ μηδαμῇ μηδαμῶς), lapse back again into that which we have just stated.58 The matter, conceived as a base for forms, is neither (1) ungenerated nor (2) generated. Chumnos would like to show, in fact, (1) that the supreme Demiurge of the universe does not create out of a preexisting material substrate and that “since in our world (παρ’ ἡμῖν) the arts encounter the materials (ἐπὶ ταῖς ὕλαις ἀπαντῶσιν αἱ τέχναι), some also expect this from a Demiurge, but they expect this unjustly and say nothing plausible”.59 (2) Having excluded the possibility that matter could have come into being by itself and having stated that, since it is, it could have been brought into existence only by God, – i.e. neither by itself nor by a principle other than God – Chumnos points out that it is not sufficient to admit that the matter which is conceived as formless had been first brought into existence by a Demiurge (in order to be later conjoined with forms), because, since the Demiurge of the universe is the omnipotent creator, who decided to create even though he had no need to create, he immediately created bodies which have form and thus are beautiful60 from the very beginning: If he is good and wise and is able to create everything and wishes that which is the best and the most beautiful, then how can it be probable that he, once he had started creating, – I am referring to the creation which pertains to sensation and is manifest – immediately produced before other things, made manifest and lay as a foundation for the rest of his works some disorderly and irregular nature which is mixed with ugliness and lacks shape and form?61 For Chumnos, the goodness and wisdom of God imply that the most beautiful things are created immediately and together with God’s act of will (εὐθύς ἅμα τῷ βουλήματι).62 For him, the matter neither originates of necessity from its principle 58 59 60

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MaC, 49, 12–18. He possibly refers back to MaC, 42, 19–21. MaC, 49, 19–21. As often, καλός covers both the aesthetically and morally beautiful. On the emphasis placed on the aesthetic connotation of this word in the commentaries on the Hexameron and in relation to the creative activity of God, cf. the Introduction to this volume, p. 6f. MaC, 48, 12–19. A and R remark that this is “una impostazione propria della Patristica greca e in particolare di Gregorio Nisseno” (A and R, see n. 2, 27). In his Apology, Gregory emphasizes that “by his wise and powerful will, being capable of everything, he established for the creation of all the things through which matter is constituted: light, heavy [. . . ]. All of these are in themselves thoughts and bare concepts; none is matter on its own. But when they run together, they turn into matter” (G  N, Apol. Hexaem. 16, 4–11 Drobner (= PG

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nor is it simply ordered by a god-demiurge. Instead, it is willed 63 by God and appears from the first motion of God’s will as an indissoluble unity with the form, i.e. in a way in which the matter matches the form and is beautiful. And thus, the form is far removed from being either an existing model on its own, which is looked upon by a demiurge in the act of creation, or even something which is created by God in a first instant in order to join it in a next instant to the matter. The form is in fact the nature which the will of God assigns from the very beginning to each being, i.e. the bundle of principles, causes and indissoluble necessities that govern each being64 and in a certain sense constitute its substance:65

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44, 69C), English translation in S, The philosophy of the commentators 200–600 AD (400 years of transition, a sourcebook), vol. 2: Physics, see n. 14, 159). This means that (1) the matter is not a substrate and therefore a mere condition for the emergence of corporeity, but body itself, i.e. a body which is understood as a bundle of properties, every one of which when considered by itself is only ideal; (2) God does not create the material world by using a matter (or, to be more precise, a substrate which is independent of him) and instead through his will and out of nothing he lays down [as a foundation (κατεβάλετο)] the matter as a bundle of properties (cf. K, see n. 51, 421f.) so that, in one single motion of his will (ἐν τῇ μιᾷ ῥοπῇ τοῦ θείου θελήματος) there already exists the totality of the material world, even though in an undifferentiated way. However, as R points out, “Gregor will keineswegs behaupten, dass der Wille sich in Materie verwandelt hat und als Substrat weiterem Wollen zugrunde liegt, was eben Pantheismus wäre, sondern die Materie ist nichts anderes als die Verbindung (σύνδρομος) von an sich ideellen Prädikaten (Anm. 96, 97), und da diese Verbindung unmittelbar und unbedingt durch den Willen geschieht, kann man auch sagen, dass der Wille die Verbindung und damit die Materie ist” (F. X. R. Gregor von Nyssa: Über das Sechstagewerk. Stuttgart, 1999, 130). Cf. B, Νικηφόρου Χούμνου, Περὶ τῆς ὕλης καὶ τῶν ἰδεῶν, Εἰσαγωγή, κριτικὴ ἔκδοση καὶ νεοελληνικὴ μετάφραση, see n. 1, 357: “Dies Schöpfung der geformten Materie ist eine kontinuierliche; insofern und nur insofern kann man von der Ewigkeit der Formen sprechen”. Cf. MaC, 53, 14. T and N. M remark, “form also in itself never exists totally independently. The forms and ideas will exist as long as there are individuals that embody them. [. . . ] Without doubt, the Aristotelian spirit supports this argument, opposing the Platonic theory of forms even though the Aristotelian theory of matter is itself not immune from attack. Chumnos does not use Aristotle to oppose Plato. He aspires to the destruction of philosophical realism, whether it is involved with ideas or with matter, replacing it with something beyond nominalism – Christian teaching, which holds that there is but one being, i.e., God” (B. T and N. J. N. M. Byzantine philosophy. Indianapolis, 2003, 205). Chumnos’ position is not that of a simple nominalism: it is true that for him the form / idea is “not before the individuals (οὐ πρότερον τῶν καθέκαστον), as Plato says, but on the contrary is conceived and indeed defined afterwards” (MaC, 55, 13–15), “and inductively” (ἐξ ἐπαγωγῆς, MaC, 55, 6). It is true that Chumnos actually reduced the metaphysical significance of the forms, since the creative will of God becomes the only cause of being and of the existence of beings (C, see n. 1, lxxviii); however, as C, see n. 1, lxxviii himself points out, Chumnos still characterizes the form as the substance of beings: “Neither it is so, nor is it possible to think the ideas correctly in such a way that they remain by themselves and are before that, of which they are ideas; but rather the opposite [is the case]: the first man, who was generated by the demiurge in the aforementioned

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If that is what is meant and if one does not disregard His wisdom, and if these things are very small or even nothing at all in comparison with His creative power, why should the most beautiful things not be there immediately and together with his act of will (εὐθύς ἅμα τῷ βουλήματι), and why should the most ugly be there before the existence of the best and the most beautiful?66 Thus distancing himself from Plotinos, who had established a relationship between matter and evil,67 and between matter and the ugly,68 already Proklos taught that matter in itself is neither good nor evil,69 but indifferent, being only that which is necessary, and even tended to suggest the idea that matter, even though lacking beauty, was nevertheless good.70 For Chumnos, who cannot conceive matter simply as a substrate or a receptacle of form, matter is not only not evil, but also “is not

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way, was made as a rational and mortal animal, who in turn generates that which is identical with himself and not different and this was taken as ‘according to substance’” (ὥσπερ κατ’ οὐσίαν, MaC, 54, 21–55, 2). On the same question, cf. B, Νικηφόρου Χούμνου, Περὶ τῆς ὕλης καὶ τῶν ἰδεῶν, Εἰσαγωγή, κριτικὴ ἔκδοση καὶ νεοελληνικὴ μετάφραση, see n. 1, 358f. who calls Chumnos a ‘moderate realist’. MaC, 48, 24–49, 3. Cf. P, Enn., I 8, 10. Cf. P, Enn., V 7, 2, 16–18; I 8, 5, 23–24 and I 8, 9, 11–13. In Phys. 192 a23 Aristotle believed that the matter is not ugly per se; cf. the commentators: S, In Phys., CAG 9, 251, 20 and J P, In Phys., CAG 16, 187, 26. Cf. P, De malorum subsistentia, 218, 36, 1–220, 36, 26 (German translation: M. E. Proklos Diadochos: über die Existenz des Bösen. Meisenheim am Glan, 1978, 129–132). Cf. also J. O. Proclus vs Plotinus on matter (De mal. Subs. 30–37). Phronesis 46.2 (2001), 154–188. P, In Alc. 320, 8f. (ed. in L. G. W. Proclus Diadochus: Commentary on the first Alcibiades of Plato. Amsterdam, 1954, 149.) For Proklos, in relation to the triad Being-LifeIntellect, since Being transcends Life, it follows that everything which lives, participates in being, but not everything which is, participates in life; in the same way, in the triad Good-BeautifulJust, since the Good transcends the Beautiful (as it is anterior to the intelligibles) and is the most potent cause which extends to all beings, it follows, then, that “everything beautiful is good, but the source of all good things is supereminent to the totality of the beautiful” (320, 4–6), so that, not all which is good, is also beautiful. Indeed, “the material cause, even though it is good, is ugly and not beautiful (for it participates in the One but does not have a share of the form)” (320, 8–10). A similar argument is found in an Alexandrian commentator Olympiodoros, who was Ammonios’ pupil and a teacher of Elias and David (Olympiodoros, In Gorg. 5, 1, 16): “For the good is from God and extends over all things, so that it reaches even as far as matter itself (assuming that [matter] makes a contribution to the task of the creator) and we call that good. But the beautiful does not extend to all things. For matter is good, though not beautiful, but ugly. For the beautiful is predicated of forms alone.” (modified translation from R. J, H. T, and K. L. Olympiodorus: Commentary on Plato’s Gorgias. Leiden, 1998, 92). John Philoponos, too, makes a reference to the superiority of the Good over Beautiful in a passage from De opificio mundi 7, 6 Reichardt: “All that is beautiful is good, but not all that is good is beautiful [. . . ] the natural philosophers claim that matter is not beautiful: it is ugly because it

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lacking the form and beauty”;71 Creation – which the middle Platonist Plutarch did not hesitate to conceive as a transition from disorder to beauty72 – is the creation of the most beautiful things as willed by God, who does not create merely by being,73 but wills and decides to create. Chumnos’ argumentation looks back at a long philosophical, but also theological tradition. A. In his Homilies on the Hexaemeron Basil the Great resolutely refuted the idea – which he attributes to the “falsifiers of truth”74 – that matter is uncreated;75 he

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is formless, but it is good, because it is a wet-nurse and a receptacle of forms.” (Cf. German translation in S, see n. 24, 613–615.) On these aesthetical considerations of John Philoponos, cf. T and N. M, see n. 65, 32. When considering Philoponos’ analysis of the relationship between the beautiful and the good, T and N. M surprisingly remark that it is “characteristic of him”. MaC, 49, 4–5. Cf. P, An. procr. 5, 1014b Ferrari. Cf. P, In Tim. I, 390, 10–11 Diehl (cf. also F, see n. 47, ii, 256f. and R and S, see n. 47, 262). Cf. B, In Hex., II, 2 (E. A. de M and S. Y. R, eds. Homilien zum Hexaemeron. GCS NF 2. Berlin, 1997, 23, 6). G suggests that this is a reference to the Gnostics, but notices at the same time a certain similarity with a number of expressions from the Timaios and points out that Basil explicitly mentions the Valentinians and the Manichaeans in a subsequent passage (cf. the edition by S. G. Basile de Césaree: Homélies sur l’hexaéméron. Paris, 1949, p. 143f., note 3). On the similarities between the text of Chumnos and that of Basil the Great, cf. V, see n. 4, 138: “Par son affirmation que la matière et les ‘formes’ viennent en même temps de la volonté divine, Choumnos rejoint la thèse de saint Basile selon qui Dieu, concevant le monde, en même temps qu’il en produisait la ‘forme’, créait une matière en harmonie avec cette ‘forme”’. For earlier criticism of the idea of the uncreated matter, cf. O, De princ. II, 1, 4 Koetschau. For Origen, matter is a substrate of bodies. However, anticipating the concept of matter formulated by Gregory of Nyssa (i.e. the concept of matter as a bundle of God’s thoughts), he also considers the opinion of those who eliminate the substrate and reduce the corporeal nature to the qualities themselves and concludes that even if one admits that the qualities are everything, the matter still remains something generated or created by God, since the qualities have to be works of God (Origen, De princ. IV, 4, 7 Koetschau; P. M. O’C. Prime matter in Origen’s world picture. In: Papers presented to the Seventh International Conference on Patristic Studies held in Oxford 1975. Ed. by E. A. L. Vol. 16. Studia Patristica 2. Berlin, 1985, 260–263). Basil, too, considers the possibility that the substrate can be reduced to nothing, once all the qualities that determine it are removed. (cf. Basil, In Hex. I, 15, 3–12 M and R); however, according to K this text does not permit the conclusion that also Basil defended this interpretation of matter (K, see n. 51, 420). A different view is expressed in C. A. La matière immaterielle chez Grégoire de Nysse. Freiburger Zeitschrift für Philosophie und Theologie 54 (2007), 215–223. Basil and Origen are identified as possible sources of Gregory already in M. A. L’exégèse de Gen. 1, 1–2 a dans l’In Hexaemeron de Grégoire de Nysse. Deux approches du probléme de la matière. In: Gregor von Nyssa und die Philosophie: Zweites Internationales Kolloquium Über Gregor von Nyssa, Freckenhorst bei Münster, 18.–23. September 1972. Ed. by H. D, M. A, and U. S. Leiden, 1976, 159–192, 168.

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also refutes in the same way the concept of matter as an ultimate lack of form (ἡ ἔσχατος ἀμορφία) and an unshapen deformity (τὸ ἀδιατύπωτον αἶσχος).76 According to Basil, the human arts are applied to a preconstituted material substrate and realize in it an idea; in our world, one thing is the matter and another is the form,77 but this is not the right way to represent God’s creative activity.78 In contrast to a human craftsman, God conceived in his mind what kind (ὁποῖόν τινα) of world should exist and together with its form he created also the matter which is adapted to it (τὴν ἁρμόζουσαν ὕλην συναπεγέννησε).79 Within the scope of this contribution it is not possible to outline in detail the ulterior development of the theory of matter leading up to Chumnos’ time. In the following, however, an attempt is made to highlight a number of important positions in this debate. In his treatise against the Manichaeans, John of Damaskos points out that God must have created everything (and matter, too) out of nothing, for there is only one principle of everything.80 Proceeding dihairetically,81 he asks the Manichaeans whether “the matter which you call evil, darkness, corruption and death, without a principle and eternal, is a substance or an accident? And if it were a substance, is it a body [. . . ], or incorporeal [. . . ] or a compound of body and incorporeal?”82 He considers the problem of matter as a genus and subdivides it into the species ‘substance’ and ‘accident’, thus subdividing the substance itself,83 which is considered 76

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Cf. B, In Hex., II, 23, 15 M and R. The editors refer to Chalkidios (cf. J. W and P. J, eds. Timaeus: a Calcidio translatus commentarioque instructus. London, 1962, 292; cf also J. C. M. van W. Calcidius on matter his doctrine and sources: a chapter in the history of Platonism. Leiden, 1959. Cf. B, In Hex., II, 2 (24, 4 M and R). It is worth mentioning that, according to Basil, God did not ὑπέστησεν, but rather ἐποίησεν (cf. B, In Hex., I, 7; 12, 19–20 M and R): the world is generated in the sense that it has the principle of its existence from God, which in turn means that the world has a temporal beginning and is brought into being by an act of will. The world is not coeternal with God, God does not produce it just by being and does not produce it with the same necessity with which the sun emits light. B, In Hex., II, 2 (24, 24–25 M and R). Cf. J  D, Contra Manicheos, 20 (B. K and R. V. Die Schriften des Johannes von Damaskos. Berlin, 1969–1988, IV, 362). It is important to mention that for John of Damaskos – who depends on the tradition of the commentators to the Eisagoge and in particular on David – the dialectical argumentation is not different from the apodeixis. For John of Damaskos there are four dialectical methods: (1) dihairetic, (2) definitory, (3) analytic and (4) apodeictic. (J  D, Dialectica, K and V, see n. 80, I, p. 138; cf. A. B, ed. Davidis prolegomena et in Porphyrii Isagogen commentarium. CAG 18,2. Berolini, 1904, 88). J  D, Contra Manicheos, 66 (K and V, see n. 80, IV, 384). On this treatise by John of Damaskos cf. A. L. St. John Damascene: tradition and originality in Byzantine theology. Oxford, 2004, 61ff. The substance in John of Damaskos’ view is not a species of a genus “being” (ὤν), but is the

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a genus, into three species ‘incorporeal’, ‘body’ and ‘composite’. Thus he proceeds to an examination of the three different opinions (i.e. of the consequences which proceed from them) in order to demonstrate that the consequences of each of the three opinions contradict other premises which have already been conceded by the opponents: If it is a body, then it was unmoved, for every body is inanimate and unmoved, and how was that which was unmoved able to arrive within the boundaries of light? [. . . ] If you say that the matter was incorporeal, then where does the body come from? For a substance that lacks body and principle cannot turn into a body. Where, then, do the countless number of bodies come from? If you describe matter as a composite, which is made of the incorporeal and the body, then you ought to know that it is impossible for a composite to come into being if not out of simple [elements].84 In his treatise Three apologies on the Divine Images John of Damaskos connects his own polemic against the Manichaeans with the exaltation of every aspect of the Creation, even of the most low and humble, so that matter is shown to be beautiful (or, in the context of John of Damaskos, good: καλή),85 because it was created by God and was taken up by God for the purpose of man’s salvation. Ps.-Dionysios the Areopagite before him not only did not hesitate to exalt matter – since it was created by Him who is truly beautiful and is considered to have a faint echo or trace (ἀπήχημα) of the intellectual beauty (τῆς νοερᾶς εὐπρεπείας), and it is precisely on the account of its insufficiency that matter reveals the infinite overabundance of God86 – but also emphasized the necessity for men to make use of the material guidance which is at their disposal and can help them along the ascending path to

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topmost genus which can be subdivided into species and, in particular (at least in the Dialectica), into ‘body’ and ‘incorporeal’. The ‘body’ is further subdivided into ‘living’ and ‘not-living’, the ‘living’ into ‘with sense-perception’ and ‘without sense-perception’. The subdivision proceeds all the way down to the individuals (cf. J  D, Dialectica, K and V, see n. 80, I, 78). On the relationship between the subdivision of substance in John of Damaskos and the same subdivision in the tradition of the commentators, cf. G. R. Die Dialektik des Johannes von Damaskos: eine Untersuchung des Textes nach seinen Quellen und seiner Bedeutung. Ettal, 1964, 78; cf. also the discussion of the dihairesis of substance in B, see n. 81, 147–149. J  D, Contra Manicheos, 66 (K and V, see n. 80, IV, 384). J  D appears to use the word καλός mainly in its ethical sense. Cf. P.-D, De coelesti hierarchia, II, 3, 141 a–141c; 4, 144b-c (G. H and A. M. R, eds. Corpus Dionysiacum ii: Pseudo-Dionysius Areopagita. De Coelesti Hierarchia, De Ecclesiastica Hierarchia, De Mystica Theologia, Epistulae. Vol. 1. Patristische Texte und Studien Bd. 36. Berlin, 1991, 12–15).

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the contemplation of the celestial hierarchies.87 In a similar way, John of Damaskos praises matter – certainly not in itself but insofar as it is full of the divine energeia and grace88 – and at the same time defends the holy images that raise us to the intelligible and allow those who have bodies to practice and to see the holy things, since it “is impossible for us to rise up to the intelligible without the corporeal” (ἐκτὸς τῶν σωματικῶν).89 It is clear that, since the question of the beauty of matter in John of Damaskos is no longer considered in close connection with the relationship between matter and form, the reflections of Chumnos ultimately reveal a closer theoretical affinity with Basil the Great than with John of Damaskos: the exaltation of the beauty of matter in Chumnos’ essay belongs to a broader thesis that matter is never without form and is created in such a way as to fit it. It is important to underline that Chumnos focuses his reflections on authors from the Antiquity and not on the debates concerning heretics or iconoclasts. B. The polemic against the idea of matter which had been advocated by the Ancients is also at the centre of a treatise by John Italos.90 By applying a method analogous to that used by John of Damaskos to criticise the Manichean concept of matter as evil (κακία), John Italos reconstructs the aporias which are inherent in the problem of matter.91 His aim is to prove that the matter of the Ancients is nothing, i.e. that this notion is inconsistent and contradictory92 and itself dissolves into nothing. 87 88 89

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Cf. P.-D, De ecclesiastica hierarchia, I, 5, 376d–377a (H and R, see n. 86, 67–68). Cf. J  D, Pro sacris imaginibus orationes tres, II, 14 (K and V, see n. 80, III, 105, 20). J  D, Pro sacris imaginibus orationes tres, III, 12, (K and V, see n. 80, III, 123, 26). Cf. also G. L. It doesn’t matter. Le metamorfosi della materia nel cristianesimo antico e nei dualismi teologici. In: Materia. XIII Colloquio Internazionale Lessico Intellettuale Europeo – Roma 7-9 gennaio 2010. Ed. by D. G and M. V. Firenze, 2011, 75–173. J I, Quaestiones, Quaestio 92 (N. K, ed. Ioannis Itali opera: textum graecum secundum collationem a Gregorio Cereteli confectam edidit et praefatione instruxit N. Ketschakmadze. Tbilisi, 1966, 227). P, too, was interested in the question of matter, e.g. in the context of his discussion of substance (cf. Amphilochia 138, 7–43, Laurdas) or in the context of a theological consideration of Trinitarian issues (cf. Amphilochia 181, 104–121, Laurdas). M P, the teacher of Italos, underlined some contradictions which are present in the Platonic teachings on matter (cf. De omnifaria doctrina, 100; L. W, ed. De omnifaria doctrina. Nijmegen, 1948, 57). As pointed out by J, Psellos also discussed the theory of matter in Aristotle “nicht ohne die daraus entstehenden Schwierigkeiten zu übersehen” (P.-P. J. Die Illuminationslehre des Michael Psellos und Joannes Italos. Ettal, 1956, 67). The fact that Psellos speaks about matter as the foundation of bodies, i.e. as something incorporeal which is rendered corporeal (σωματοῦται) by the form (cf. De omnifaria doctrina, 82, 6–7; W, De omnifaria doctrina, see n. 92, 50), but also as a “substance without substance” (οὐσία ἀνούσιος) which lacks determinations (De omnifaria doctrina, 86; W, De om-

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Just like Chumnos, who in his treatise asks whether “its [i.e. of matter] generation is caused by a Demiurge or by something else or whether it is possible that it was produced and generated by itself ”,93 and then excludes the possibility that matter was brought into existence or moved by itself (because there is nothing which is able to cause its own generation)94 together with the option that it was brought into existence by something other than the Demiurge (because, had this been the case, the same difficulties would arise as when the eternity of matter is assumed),95 John Italos points out that “having granted and conceded that such [matter] is initially simple and incorporeal and the last of all beings [. . . ], it is necessary that such nature has either been created by God or by itself, or neither by God nor by itself, according to the completeness of the dihairesis.”96 Clearly drawing on Proklean argumentation, John Italos demonstrates that matter is not an original principle,

93 94 95 96

nifaria doctrina, see n. 92, 51), and, consequently, as a possible substrate of determinations, but also as the last of beings, reveals, according to B, that Psellos also has in mind the views on the nature of matter which are set forth by Aristotle in Metaph. 1029 a17–24 and in Phys. I 7–9 (L. G. B. Michael Psellos’ Kritik an Aristoteles und seine eigene Lehre zur “Physis” und “Materie-Form”-Problematik. Byzantinische Zeitschrift 56 (1963), 213–227, 225). It has been recently pointed out that Psellos is not a Neoplatonist who disregards Aristotle, but a Christian thinker who is interested in the study of ancient philosophy (L. G. B, ed. Michael Psellos: Kommentar zur Physik des Aristoteles. Ath¯enai, 2008. Chap. Einleitung, 3*–64*, 16*). According to B, an opinion shared by J, Psellos holds an optimistic view on matter, which is connected with his conviction that everything which comes from God is good (in a similar way also Simpl. In Phys., 249, 14–250, 5, even if B maintains that “Psellos scheint aber Simplikios’ Argumentation nicht benutzt zu haben”, B, Michael Psellos’ Kritik an Aristoteles und seine eigene Lehre zur “Physis” und “Materie-Form”-Problematik, see n. 92, 227). It is on account of this “optimistic view of matter” that Psellos in De omnifaria doctrina 100, 6 (W, De omnifaria doctrina, see n. 92, 57) was able to refer to the opinion of Proklos, as found in De malorum subsistentia, that matter is neither good nor evil (B, Michael Psellos’ Kritik an Aristoteles und seine eigene Lehre zur “Physis” und “Materie-Form”-Problematik, see n. 92, 227). Also of interest is the observation of B that Psellos, whose understanding of matter is for the most part Aristotelian, defends a view which cannot be considered Aristotelian (or even ‘hellenic’, as B terms it) when he affirms, from a Christian point of view, that matter is a principle not in the sense that it is the first and the supreme cause of being for the beings, but because it is an immediate principle (and, so to say, a necessary condition) of the corporeal world (Psellos, De omnifaria doctrina, 82, 11–13, W, De omnifaria doctrina, see n. 92, 50; B, Michael Psellos’ Kritik an Aristoteles und seine eigene Lehre zur “Physis” und “Materie-Form”-Problematik, see n. 92, 221). An excellent orientation in the texts of Psellos is provided by P. M. Iter Psellianum: a detailed listing of manuscript sources for all works attributed to Michael Psellos, including a comprehensive bibliography. Toronto, 2005. On account of the logical writings of Psellos, cf. K. I. The Byzantine Reception of Aristotle’s Categories. Synthesis philosophica (2005), 7–32. MaC, 46, 19–21. Cf. MaC, 47, 14–15. Cf. MaC, 47, 20–21. J I, Quaestiones, Quaestio 92 (K, see n. 90, 228, {1–5}).

Monica Marchetto

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which has been “self-constituted” or “first of beings” or “that which exists primitively” (πρώτως ὄν) – John Italos refers here to Prokl. Elem. theol. 40, i.e. to the Proklean treatment of that which constitutes itself or derives its substance from itself97 – because, if it were so, matter would no longer be a substrate,98 which would in turn require the assumption of another substrate of generation and so on ad infinitum. But for Italos, matter is not even constituted by God, neither immediately nor through mediation. If matter were constituted through the mediation of other causes, it would not be simple,99 as Italos remarks when referring again to the Proklean idea that there are beings which proceed from a plurality of causes and there are beings which are produced by their cause without mediation.100 And if matter were immediately constituted by God and granted that matter is the last of beings, it would follow that “if that which was created without mediation – being similar to that which creates it – is bad, then also that which created it will be bad,”101 if it is true that in any Proklean procession all that is immediately produced by any principle both remains in the producing cause, insofar as it is similar to the producer, and proceeds from it, insofar as it differs from it.102 John Italos also argues from the perspective of the relationship between matter and body. If matter for the Ancients is potentiality and if potentiality is an accident which is, as such, in a substance, argues John Italos (who seems here to have taken up the idea of the dihairesis of substance into a body and incorporeal from his teacher Michael Psellos103 or possibly from the Dialectics of John of Damaskos104 or from the tradition of the commentaries to the Eisagoge of Porphyrios, e.g. David),105 it is necessary to examine the question whether this substance is corporeal or incorporeal. It cannot be incorporeal, he argues, because in that case it would not be able to be a substrate of the accidents; therefore it must be corporeal. However, for Italos, while every body is either physical (i.e. it has a principle of movement, as fire or other elements) or mathematical (which results in the process of abstrac97 J, Die Illuminationslehre des Michael Psellos und Joannes Italos, see n. 92, 74. 98 Cf. J I, Quaestiones, Quaestio 92 (K, see n. 90, 228, {21–23}). 99 Cf. J I, Quaestiones, Quaestio 92 (K, see n. 90, 228, {16–17}). 100 P, El. Theol. 38 Dodds; cf. J, Die Illuminationslehre des Michael Psellos und

Joannes Italos, see n. 92, 73. 101 J I, Quaestiones, Quaestio 92 (K, see n. 90, 228, {11–12}). 102 P, El. Theol. 30; cf. J, Die Illuminationslehre des Michael Psellos und Joannes

Italos, see n. 92, 73. 103 M P, Opusculum 50, 82 (J. M. D, ed. Michaelis Pselli Philosophica minora.

Stutgardiae, 1992–1989, I, 189). 104 John Italos paraphrases entire passages taken from Three Apologies on the Divine Images in his

own essay On Icons (P.-P. J, ed. Johannes Italos: Quaestiones quodlibetales. 1956, 151), cf. also L. C. The trial of John Italos and the crisis of intellectual values in Byzantium in the eleventh century. München, 1981, 209. 105 B, see n. 81, 93, 29.

Nikephoros Chumnos’ Treatise On Matter

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tion), that which is supposed to be a substrate to the elements is neither the one, nor the other. It is not a physical body, because it does not have a principle of movement, and it is not mathematical, because, if that were the case, the substrate of the substance would be an accident, which is impossible.106 Even though the arguments of John Italos are much more complex than those of Chumnos, they do converge at the end. Just as Chumnos concludes that “if it [matter] is neither a body nor incorporeal, once separated from the forms (τῶν εἰδῶν ῥυεῖσα), then it will be nothing else at all. And so it was this, that is nothing, also before it was united with forms”,107 so John Italos comes to the conclusion that matter does not exist (οὐκ ἄρα ἐστὶ ἡ ὕλη) and that there is no such substrate of the forms (οὐδ’ ἔστι τοιοῦτον τοῖς εἴδεσιν ὑποκείμενον).108 At this point it is not possible to determine whether Chumnos was directly acquainted with the writings of John Italos. The purpose of the present contribution is not to establish a derivational history or the dependency of individual arguments one upon another, but rather to present various traditions of approaching the same question in order to make it possible to evaluate the theoretical depth which Chumnos’ arguments reveal in addition to their rhetorical value.

106 Cf. J I, Quaestiones, Quaestio 92 (K, see n. 90, 232, {6}). 107 MaC, 49, 12–15. 108 Cf. J I, Quaestiones, Quaestio 92 (K, see n. 90, 232, {14}).

Proklos and Plethon on Beauty Sergei Mariev One of the differences between the intellectual history of the Latin West and that of the Byzantine East stems from the fact that the Byzantine intellectual elite not only had direct access to the Neoplatonic sources in the original language but also at times showed marked interest in them.1 For the history of aesthetics in particular, this means that in Byzantium it should also be possible to find traces of the direct reception of the Neoplatonic aesthetic theories. Byzantium experienced at least two peaks of interest in Neoplatonic philosophy: one is associated with the names of Michael Psellos and his student John Italos in the 11th century, and the other, at the very end of the Byzantine period, with Georgios Gemistos (alias Plethon) and his ‘school’ in the 15th century. In fact, the writings of both Psellos and Plethon demonstrate their interest in this particular aspect of Neoplatonic metaphysics as well. A consideration of Michael Psellos, who makes reference to the intelligible beauty on many occasions in his writings and even quotes in his Opuscula crucial passages on intelligible beauty that can be traced back to Plotinos, must remain outside of the scope of the present paper.2 I will concentrate instead on one extant fragment of a chapter On Measure and Symmetry from the third book of Plethon’s Laws, which explicitly addresses the subject of beauty,3 together with some related texts. The influence of Neoplatonic philosophy on Plethon is undeniable. Already Gennadios Scholarios (one of the intellectual adversaries of Plethon who is responsible for the burning of his main work)4 was quick to spread the word about Plethon’s lack of originality and his particular dependence on Proklos:5 [. . . ] καίτοι εἰς μὲν Πλωτῖνον καὶ Πορφύριον καὶ ᾿Ιάμβλιχον ἀναφέρει τὴν συγγραφήν, ἀφ’ ὧν ὀλίγα ἢ οὐδὲν προσειλήφει, Πρόκλον δὲ τὸν αἰτιώτατον 1 2 3

4 5

[. . . ] even though he traces his work back to Plotinos, Porphyrios and Iamblichos, from whom he has taken little or nothing, while Proklos, who is mainly responsible for this kind of thinking, he passes over in silence and refuses

Cf. Introduction to this volume, p. 6 above. Cf. M P, Op. 34 περὶ νοητοῦ κάλλους (ed. D, ii, 115–117). Cf. C. A and A. P, eds. Pléthon: Traité Des Lois, ou recueil des fragments, en partie inédits, de cet ouvrage, texte revu sur les manuscrits, précédé d’une notice historique et critique, et augmenté d’un choix de pièces justificatives, la plupart inédites. Paris, 1858, 84–87. On the burning of Plethon’s laws cf. J. M. Pletho’s date of death and the burning of his Laws. Byzantinische Zeitschrift 98 (2006), 459–463. Scholarios’ letter to the empress of the Peloponnese in L. P, X. A. S, and M. J, eds. Œuvres complètes de Georges Scholarios. Paris, 1928–1936, iv, 153.

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Sergei Mariev

αὐτῷ τῆς τοιαύτης φρονήσεως σιωπᾷ, οὐδ’ ἀνέχεται δεικνύναι, ὅτι ἐκ τῶν ἐκείνου βιβλίων μᾶλλον πάντα συνήγαγεν, οἷς οὐδέν ἐστιν ἄλλο πρόθεσις ἢ περὶ πλήθους θεῶν καὶ γενέσεως καὶ τάξεως καὶ διαφορᾶς καὶ ἐνεργείας ἐν τῷ παντὶ τῷδε καὶ ἀνθρωπίνων ψυχῶν καὶ ὅσα περὶ αὐτῶν ἀνήκει σκοπεῖν, καὶ ἄστρων καὶ ὅσα τῇ περὶ αὐτῶν θεωρίᾳ προσήκειν κατὰ τὴν οἰκείαν ᾤετο δόξαν. Οὐ προστίθησι δὲ τοῖς ἄλλοις τὸν Πρόκλον, σοφιζόμενος ἑαυτῷ τὴν δόξαν τοῦ πρῶτον αὐτὸν τὰ τοιαῦτα ἀποτεκεῖν. ᾿Αλλ’ οἱ τὰ Πρόκλου ἐπεληλυθότες καλῶς ἅμα δὲ καὶ κατεγνωκότες ἐπιγινώσκουσι τὴν πηγὴν τῶν Γεμιστοῦ λόγων.

to indicate that he has in fact gathered everything from those books of Proklos, which have no other purpose than to consider the multitude of gods and their genesis, order, distinctiveness and activity in this universe, and human souls and all that pertains to them, and the stars and all that pertains to their consideration according to his [i.e. Proklos’] personal opinion. He [i.e. Plethon] does not mention Proklos along with the others and fraudulently attributes to himself the honour of being the first man to have given birth to these ideas. But those who have reviewed Proklos’ writings thoroughly and at the same time formed an unfavourable opinion of him, recognize the source of Gemistos’ arguments.

A number of modern scholars have reiterated a similar opinion regarding Plethon’s dependence on Proklos.6 However, a recent study by T-K has demonstrated that in spite of all the similarities between Plethon and several Neoplatonic philosophers, and in particularly Proklos, a number of fundamental differences between their systems should not be overlooked.7 Plethonian views on beauty provide an opportunity to explore some fundamental aspects of his philosophical system in order to better assess its proximity to Proklos in this particular respect. To achieve this purpose it will be necessary first to summarise some of Proklos’ main theses on the subject of beauty and then to concentrate on Plethon.

6 7

Cf. A and P, see n. 3, LIX–LXIV, LXXX–LXXXI and C. M. W. George Gemistos Plethon: the last of the Hellenes. Oxford, 1986, 76. Cf. B. T-K. Pléthon, le retour de Platon. Paris, 2007, 153ff.

Proklos and Plethon on Beauty

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From One to Being In order to indicate the role that Proklos assigns to the beautiful within his system, it is necessary to recapitulate some of its fundamental aspects. In the Elements of Theology Proklos explains, on the one hand, the relationship between the cause and its effect and, on the other hand, between a higher cause and all other causes which are inferior to and consequent upon it: the productive cause (τὸ παρακτικόν) is in all cases more powerful or superior (κρεῖττον)8 to its products (τὸ παραγόμενον).9 A higher cause is a cause in greater measure; it gives rise to more and greater effects than its consequent;10 the prior cause operates earlier upon the participant and “in the activity of the secondary, the higher is co-operative”.11 In propositio 75 Proklos states that every cause properly so called transcends its resultant:12 Πᾶν τὸ κυρίως αἴτιον λεγόμενον ἐξῄρηται τοῦ ἀποτελέσματος. ἐν αὐτῷ γὰρ ὄν, ἢ συμπληρωτικὸν αὐτοῦ ὑπάρχον ἢ δεόμενόν πως αὐτοῦ πρὸς τὸ εἶναι, ἀτελέστερον ἂν εἴη ταύτῃ τοῦ αἰτιατοῦ. τὸ δὲ ἐν τῷ ἀποτελέσματι ὂν συναίτιόν ἐστι μᾶλλον ἢ αἴτιον, ἢ μέρος ὂν τοῦ γινομένου ἢ ὄργανον τοῦ ποιοῦντος.

Every cause properly so called transcends its resultant. For if such a cause were immanent in its effect, either it would be a complementary part of the latter or it would in some way need it for its own existence, and it would in this regard be inferior to the effect. That which exists in the resultant is not so much a cause as a bycause, being either a part of the thing produced or an instrument of the maker.

The cause properly so called always precedes its resultant and belongs only to itself. However, since the identity for each level or plane (πλάτος) comes from the cause and since the resultants are like their cause and participate the cause,13 the cause is always present in all its resultants.14 At this point the question arises: how can 8

9 10 11 12 13

14

“Superior” is the translation by E. R. D. Proclus: The elements of theology, a revised text with Translation, Introduction and Commentary. 2nd. Oxford, 1963; cf. also T. T. The six books of Proclus, the Platonic Successor On the theology of Plato, translated from the Greek, to which a seventh book is added, in order to supply the deficiency of another book on this subject, which was written by Proclus, but since lost. London, 1816 who translates it as “more excellent”. Cf. P, Elem. theol., prop. 7 (ed. D). Cf. P, Elem. theol., prop. 57 (ed. D). P, Elem. theol., prop. 70 (ed. and transl. by D, see n. 8, 67). P, Elem. theol., prop. 75, 28–33 (ed. and transl. by D, see n. 8, 71f). For the transitive use of the verb to participate cf. D, see n. 8, 3, note 1: “The transitive use of participate throughout the translation is dictated by the convenience of the passive form [. . . ].” P, Elem. theol., prop. 29 (ed. D).

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Sergei Mariev

the cause be truly transcendent if the resultants participate it? Proklos solves this problem by distinguishing three levels. Even though the cause is imparticipable (ἀμέθεκτον), it produces entities capable of being participated (μετεχόμενα) by other entities that participate them (μετέχοντα).15 This tripartite division is important in order to understand one of the two theoretical strategies which Proklos employs to explain the transition from the One, which transcends Being, to Being itself, namely the Henads. In Proklos’ view, if the infinite regress of causes is to stop, there is a first cause which is the principle that transcends Being. Proklos conceives two different potencies (δυνάμεις),16 i.e. the perfect potency which brings to actuality and the imperfect potency, which is in need of some extraneous actuality. He ascribes to the One qua the first cause the greatest potency, i.e. the most comprehensive power.17 Since each cause is a principle of a series of entities which receive their properties from it, there is a number of quasi-entities,18 which are most closely and especially akin to the transcendent and most powerful One, i.e. the divine Henads.19 The Henads are, like the One, above Being but, unlike the One, they are participable:20 [. . . ] μεθεκτὴ μέν ἐστιν ἡ ἀπὸ τοῦ πρώτου προϊοῦσα θεότης, μεθεκτὸν δὲ πᾶν τὸ τῶν ἑνάδων πλῆθος. Καὶ τὸ μὲν ὡς ὄντως ὑπερούσιον ἕν, ἕκαστος δὲ τῶν ἄλλων θεῶν κατὰ μὲν τὴν οἰκείαν ὕπαρξιν, ᾗ καὶ ἔστι θεός, ὑπερούσιος τῷ πρώτῳ παραπλησίως, μετέχονται δὲ ὑπὸ οὐσίας καὶ τοῦ ὄντος. 15

16 17 18 19 20

[. . . ] the deity proceeding from the First is participable, and all the multitude of Henads is participable. And that indeed which is truly above Being is the One. But each of the other Gods, according to his proper hyparxis, by which he is a God, above Being in a way similar to that of the One; but they are participated by substance and being.

P, Elem. theol., prop. 23 (ed. D). Cf. V. M. R. Das ewige Nun: ein Paradoxon in der Philosophie des Proklos. Berlin, 2008, 68 and M. A. Il divino tra unità e molteplicità: saggio sulla Teologia platonica di Proclo. Alessandria, 2008, 85–98. Cf. also note 20 below. Cf. P, Elem. theol., prop. 78 (ed. D). Cf. P, Elem. theol., prop. 59 and 60 (ed. D). The word ‘quasi’ is added to indicate that it is not possible to speak of entities stricto sensu on a level above that of being. Cf. R, see n. 15, 90, n. 153. Cf. P, Elem. theol., prop. 64 and 114 (ed. D). Proklos makes a distinction between the Henads complete in themselves (which are Gods) and irradiations (ἐλλάμψεις) from them. P, Theol. Plat. III (4) 17, 4–9 (ed. S and W), modified translation by T. Cf. P. A. M. Participation and Henads and Monads in the Theologia platonica III, 1–6. In: On Proclus and his Influence in Medieval Philosophy. Ed. by E. P. B and P. A. M. Leiden, Köln, and New York, 1992, 65–87 and E. M. The participability of the One through the Henads in Proclus’ Platonic theology. In: Henologische Perspektiven, II. Zu Ehren Egil A. Wyllers. Internationales Henologie-Symposium an der Norwegischen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Oslo. Ed. by T. F. Amsterdam, Atlanta, 1997, 83–93.

Proklos and Plethon on Beauty

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Parallel to the Henads, Proklos introduces another “link” which is meant to explain the transition from the One to Being, while at the same time stressing the generative potency of the One. Referring to the four genera of being in Philebos, Proklos conceives πέρας and ἀπειρία as two transcendent principles that come after the One.21 πέρας is the entity that subsists prior to potency (προϋπάρχον τῆς δυνάμεως) and pre-subsists (προϋποστάν) first from (πρῶτον ἀπὸ) the imparticipable and unknown cause of all things.22 While ἀπειρία, the Infinitude, is a γεννητικὴ δύναμις,23 i.e. a generative and active potency and the first infinity (ἡ πρώτη ἀπειρία), the primal principle of potency that accounts for the potency of every entity of each order of being, and in which even the infinity of matter of our world has its foundation.24 The first mixture that originates from the union of πέρας and ἀπειρία is what Proklos in Plat. Theology calls the very first of beings (πρώτιστον τῶν ὄντων), the Being itself (τὸ αὐτοόν), the Being (τὸ ὄν) or the substance [essence] (οὐσία).25 The first mixture is the monad of being, i.e. the cause of beings and at the same time the Being as a whole. It contains all beings secretly (κρυφίως) and it contains everything intelligibly (νοητῶς). Since Being originates from πέρας and ἀπειρία, it explicates or unfolds itself (ἀνελίσσει): the Infinitude (ἀπειρία) generates Life in Being; it is through the πέρας that the identity of Being returns from the multiplicity to itself and becomes Intellect.26 Already Plotinos ascribed the Infinitude to the One, which he understood as infinite “not because its size and number cannot be measured or counted but because its power cannot be comprehended”27 . In those propositions of his Elements 21 22 23 24 25

26

27

Cf. P, Theol. Plat. iii (8) 30, 15–34, 19 (ed. S and W). Cf. P, Theol. Plat. iii (8) 32, 2–5 (ed. S and W). Cf. P, Theol. Plat. iii (8) 32, 5 (ed. S and W). Cf. P, In Tim. I, 383–385 (ed. D). Cf. P, Theol. Plat. III (9), 35, 4–7 (ed. S and W). The αὐτοόν in this context means “the monad of being”, because it stands at the top of the beings as their cause, cf. R, see n. 15, 97. Sometimes this monad is called τὸ πρώτως ὂν (cf. Proklos, In Tim., I, 230, 31), “that which is primally”. R stresses that τὸ ὄν in Proklos can be applied not only to the monad of beings but also to the whole intelligible realm. Being – Life – Intellect are the first and universal monads; Being contains Life and Intellect intellectually (νοερῶς); Life contains Being and Intellect intellectually and intelligibly (νοερῶς ἅμα καὶ νοητῶς); Intellect contains Life and Being intelligibly (νοητῶς), cf. P, Theol. Plat. IV (1) 6, 16–7, 7; III (9) 36, 7–8. This means that “die Trias Intelligibles-Intelligibles und zugleich Intellektuelles-Intellektuelles der Trias Sein-Leben-Intellekt zugeordnet werden kann: Ihre Terme entsprechen einander” (R, see n. 15, 127). On the other hand, the triad Being – Life – Intellect is only the first level (πλάτος) of the intelligible realm, i.e. the intelligible in the narrow sense which constitutes together with νοητὸς ἅμα καὶ νοερός and νοερός the intelligible realm. P, Enn. VI 9, 6, translation by A. H. A, ed. Plotinus: Enneads. London, 1966–1988, vii, 323.

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where Proklos discusses the true Being (τὸ ὄντως ὄν),28 he explains that the partition (μερισμός) dissolves and dissipates (διαφορεῖ καὶ ἐκλύει) the potency, whereas the indivisibility compresses and concentrates it (σφίγγουσα καὶ συσπειρῶσα).29 This means that the true Being which stands closest to the One is infinite not in size or number but in potency. Proklos stresses that the Being (τὸ ὄν) is infinite in potency on account of the first ἀπειρία: this first Infinitude, which is neither the First Principle (the One and the Good, the Measure of all things) nor the Being (τὸ ὄν, which is infinite, but not the Infinitude itself ), is between the One and the Being and is “the cause of that which has infinite potency”30 .

Beauty in Proklos In Proklos, the Being is only the third term of the first intelligible triad; the intelligible plane consists of not one but three triads. The second intelligible triad has Life as its third term and property, and the third triad ends in Intellect. Proklos’ doctrine of the triads is connected with his doctrine of three Monads (Beauty, Truth and Symmetry), which is particularly important for the reconstruction of his views on beauty. To this doctrine Proklos dedicated a lost essay entitled On the three Monads; however, its content is summarised in the Platonic theology.31 Proklos’ discussion of Beauty in the Platonic Theology III, chapter 1132 takes up the well-known passage in the Philebos, in which Plato discusses the three ideas of beauty, truth and measure.33 In this passage, symmetry, beauty and truth are the causes that determine the goodness of a mixture. Shortly afterwards Plato introduces a list of values: the first in this list is measure, moderation, fitness and all which is to be considered similar to these;34 the second is proportion, beauty, per28

29 30 31

32 33 34

In his commentary on the Timaios Proklos calls the intelligible plane (τὸ νοητὸν πλάτος) the true Being (ὄντως ὄν), cf. In Tim. I, 233, 1–4 (ed. D). R, see n. 15, 122 is of the opinion that Proklos understands “the true Being” as “intelligible Intellect”, as it also contains Life and Being. Elsewhere she identifies the true Being as the entire intelligible realm, cf. R, see n. 15, 98, n. 193; 112. Cf. P, Elem. theol., prop. 86. Cf. P, Elem. theol., prop. 92 (ed. D). Cf. P Theol. Pl. III (18) 63, 16–21. This question was taken up by Damaskios in his Lectures on Philebos, cf. L. G. W. Lectures on the Philebus, wrongly attributed to Olymipiodous. Amsterdam, 1959, §§ 233–249. P, Theol. Plat. III (11) 43ff. (ed. S and W). P, Phil. 64c–65a2, cf. M. M. L’ uomo fra piacere, intelligenza e Bene: commentario storico-filosofico al Filebo di Platone. Milano, 1993, 308–312. P, Phil. 65d4–66a8.

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fection, sufficiency;35 the third is mind and wisdom.36 Referring to these passages in the Platonic Theology, Proklos remarks that in every mixture the Symmetrical is that which accounts for the communion and association of the elements (κοινωνία τῶν στοιχείων [. . . ] καὶ εὐάρμοστος ὁμιλία);37 the Beauty is that which is necessary for the order of the whole and the arrangement of the elements;38 the Truth is that which is necessary for purity and the identity with itself.39 He writes:40 ᾿Ενταῦθα τοίνυν ἐν τῷ πρώτῳ μικτῷ τὰ τρία ταῦτα πέφηνε, τὸ σύμμετρον, τὸ ἀληθές, τὸ καλόν. Καὶ τὸ μὲν σύμμετρον τοῦ ἓν εἶναι τὸ ὂν αἴτιον τῷ μικτῷ, τὸ δὲ ἀληθὲς τοῦ ὄντως εἶναι, τὸ δὲ καλὸν τοῦ νοητὸν εἶναι.

Here, therefore, in the first mixture, these three things are apparent, Symmetry, Truth and Beauty. And Symmetry indeed is the cause to the mixture, that being is one; Truth is the cause of the reality of its existence; and Beauty is the cause of its being intelligible.

It is important to underline that in this passage Proklos associates the beautiful with intelligibility. It is on this account that Beauty is found in Being only “secretly” (κρυφίως). In the Intellect, on the contrary, it “shines forth” (ἐκφαίνεται).41 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

P, Phil. 66b1–4. P, Phil. 66b5–7. P, Theol. Plat. III (11) 43, 11 (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. III (11) 43, 15 (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. III (11) 43, 14 (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. III (11) 43, 19–22 (ed. S and W). Trans. by T, see n. 8, 198. P stresses the fact that Socrates in the Philebos says that this triad (Symmetry, Truth and Beauty) “is found to be in the vestibules of the Good”, cf. P, Philebos 64c1 and P, Theol. Plat. III (11) 44, 9 (ed. S and W). Symmetry, Truth and Beauty are an expression of the constitutive relationship of the Being itself to its principle, i.e. to the transcendent One. C interprets the three monads as “normes de sa [=de l’être] relation constitutive à l’Un” (J. C. Le Trois Monades du Philèbe selon Proclus. In: Proclus lecteur et interprète des anciens (actes du colloque international du CNRS, Paris, 2 - 4 octobre 1985). Ed. by J. P and H. S. Paris, 1987, 177–190, 183). Since the One is the measure (μέτρον) of all things, the Being itself is “symmetrical” (σύμμετρον). Since the One is transcendent, the Being is truly (ὡς ὄντως ὑποστάν). Since the One is good and desirable, the Being itself is the beautiful itself (αὐτοκαλόν), cf. P, Theol. Plat. III (11) 44, 10–14 (ed. S and W). Even though the Being, as the third term of the first intelligible triad, participates Beauty as well as Truth and Symmetry, it is possible above all through Symmetry, cf. P, Theol. Pl. III (13) 48, 15–22. According to the order of the ontological constitution, Truth is the first monad that constitutes Being as identical, stable and a hyparxis that exists on itself (cf. P, Theol. Pl. III (18) 62, 20–63, 3 (ed. S and W); cf. also J. O. Hyparxis. In: Wörterbuch der antiken Philosophie. Ed. by C. H and C. R. München, 2002, 207–209 and F. R, ed. Hyparxis e hypostasis nel Neoplatonismo: atti del I Colloquio Internazionale del Centro di Ricerca sul Neoplatonismo, Università degli Studi di Catania, 1 - 3

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In Intellect (i.e. the third term of the third intelligible triad) the entire intelligible multiplicity reveals itself. Intellect is neither all things according to cause (κατ’ αἰτίαν), as the Being itself is, nor is it what begins to distinguish (διακρίσεως ἀρχόμενον) the secret multiplicity which is implied in Being, as Life is. Intellect is the full manifestation itself,42 the explicated multiplicity and at the same time that which makes the multiplicity return back to the One and to itself.43 Proklos emphasizes that the third intelligible triad is a multiplicity that is infinite not on account of quantity but on account of its perfection.44 Intellect, as place of forms, the intelligible manifold (νοητὸν πλῆθος) and the order of the intelligible forms (ὁ τῶν νοητῶν εἰδῶν διάκοσμος),45 is the most beautiful of the intelligibles, as Plato says in the Timaios,46 when describing the first paradigm of the kosmos. Proklos repeats this statement in his description of the third intelligible triad, which ends in intelligible Intellect,47 and explains:48 Τὸ γὰρ κάλλος ἐποχεῖσθαι τοῖς εἴδεσι φιλεῖ καὶ ἔστιν οἷον εἶδος εἰδῶν, τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ τὸ κρύφιον ἐκφῆναν καὶ προλάμψαν τὸ ἐραστὸν αὐτοῦ καὶ τὸν κρυπτόμενον περὶ ἐκεῖνο πόθον ἑλκύσαν εἰς τὸ ἑαυτοῦ φανόν.

For beauty is wont to be carried in the forms, and it is, as it were, the form of forms, that reveals what is secret in the Good and causes its loveliness to shine forth, and attracts to its own splendor the desire which is concealed about it.

Beauty is found above all in Intellect, which embraces all forms, and has the power to manifest the One that in itself is beyond all manifestation. Beauty speaks out the unspeakable and it is on account of this that the soul – which has the concealed de-

42 43 44 45 46 47 48

ottobre 1992. Firenze, 1994); Beauty, which is connected with the explication, comes second; Symmetry, which causes the return from the multiplicity to the One, comes third. Since the order of the manifestation does not correspond with the ontological sequence, it follows that Symmetry determines Being, Truth determines Life and Beauty determines Intellect. It is worth noting that in his Lectures on Philebos Damaskios contrasts the position of Syrianos with that of Iamblichos in the following way: Iamblichos refers all three monads to Intellect, whereas Syrianos separates the three monads so that Truth is assigned to the Being itself, Beauty [is shown] as first present in Life, and Symmetry in Intellect (ἐν τῷ νῷ), cf. W, Lectures on the Philebus, wrongly attributed to Olymipiodous. See n. 31, §§ 243–244. Cf. P, Theol. Pl. III (14) 49, 19–25 (ed. S and W): κατ’ ἐνέργειαν καὶ ἐκφανῶς τὰ πάντα. P, Theol. Plat. III (14) 50, 8–9 (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. III (26) 92, 11–15 (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. III (12) 46, 10 (ed. S and W). P, Tim. 30d1–2. P, Theol. Plat. III (18) 62, 11–14 (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. III (18) 63, 24–27 (ed. S and W), translation by T, see n. 8, 211, slightly modified.

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sire towards the One – is able to be attracted and to turn towards the One. This also explains the peculiarities (ἰδιώματα) or, more precisely, the elements (στοιχεῖα) of beauty which are also the characteristics of the third intelligible triad: the beautiful is desirable (ἐραστόν), because it pertains to limit and unity and because it effects the return to the transcendent One through the unity which defines it.49 The beautiful is ἁβρόν, the splendid (or: gracious, graceful, delicate),50 because it contains an infinite potency, with which it fills all things. The beautiful is bright or radiant (λαμπρόν), because it is intelligible form which manifests itself to the intellect. The beautiful is form which, while manifesting itself, manifests the concealed Goodness. In the activity of the beautiful the rhythm typical of every cause, i.e. μονή, πρόοδος, ἐπιστροφή, is apparent. Even though beauty reaches out with its splendor and announces to all the intelligible character of the Good, it remains in itself as the object of love and desire, while at the same time moving, calling back, converting everything to the ineffable Goodness.51

Intellectual Gods The plane of the intelligibles in the strict sense constitutes only one of the three planes which make up the intelligible realm. After the plane of the intelligibles Proklos introduces the plane of “the intelligble and at the same time intellectual” 49

50

51

The Love is not just a cosmic power which unites all beings with each other and with the divine beauty, but also the driving power of the soul. The experience of the beautiful through Eros progresses towards knowledge of the truth that elevates to the divine wisdom, cf. P, Theol. Plat. I (25) 109–110, cf. also W. B. Platonismus im Christentum. 2nd ed. Philosophische Abhandlungen 73. Frankfurt am Main, 2001, 68–70. For the passages on beauty in the Proklean commentary on the Alkibiades cf. P, In Alc., 64, 14–17 und 320–328 (ed. L. G. W. Proclus Diadochus: Commentary on the first Alcibiades of Plato. Amsterdam, 1954), English translation in W. O’N. Proclus: Alcibiades I (a translation and commentary). The Hague, 1971, 41f., 210–215. The exact meaning of the word ἁβρός is very elusive and depends heavily on context. The Thesaurus graecae linguae by E lists the following: mollis, delicatus, effoeminatus, luxui deditus; lautus, cultus, elegans, munditiae studiosus; festivus, lepidus; magnificus, graevitatem prae se ferens, elatus (cf. H. E. Thesaurus Linguae Graecae. Genf, 1572, s.v.). From Herodotus on (cf. Herodotus, I.71, 20) this word was apparently perceived as a synonym for καλόν, cf. a gloss on this Herodotean passage in Glossae in Herodotum, reprinted in K. L and H. E. Lexica graeca minora. Hildesheim, 1965, 199: ἀβρόν [sic]. καλόν, αὔθαδες, σεμνόν, τρυφερόν. It was on account of Plato, who used this word as a synonym for καλόν in Symp. 204c, that it was adopted by the Neoplatonic philosophers, cf. Proklos, Theol. Plat. I (25) 107, 11, where Proklos overtly turns to this passage from Symp. In T, see n. 8 it is translated as “splendid”, in H. S and L. W, eds. Proclus: Théologie platonicienne. Paris, 1968–2003 as “éclatant”. B prefers “zart”. Cf. P, Theol. Plat. I (24) 108, 7–20 and Theol. Plat. III (22) 80, 7–28.

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as a “middle layer” and then finally proceeds to the intellectual plane. Proklos identifies these metaphysical entities with Gods. Taking into account the important role which these figures played in the Pantheon conceived by Plethon, it is necessary to concentrate on the first triad of the intellectual Gods, i.e. to consider the “Three Fathers”. The plane of the intelligible and intellectual, which corresponds to the moment of Life in the triad Being-Life-Intellect, mediates between the higher intelligible plane and the lower intellectual plane52 and is still arranged triadically. The intellectual plane is the fullest explication of the unity into the multiplicity and for this reason it is no longer arranged in triads but in hebdomads. The very first hebdomad, which is followed by other hebdomads of a second order, consists of two triads and one monad. The first triad is the triad of the “Fathers”, whom Proklos identifies with Kronos, Rhea and Zeus. Kronos is the intellect that avoids differentiation and remains pure, sublime and transcendent. Kronos is the unity which remains in itself53 and admits determinations only potentially. Rhea is associated with “flowing” and life. Zeus is the unity that determines itself, i.e. the activity of distinction (διάκρισις) and separation (τομή),54 the demiurgic intellect which brings into being (παράγει) the entire kosmos and arranges and adorns it (διακοσμεῖ),55 and which forces the secret nature of Kronos towards differentiation. The second triad or the Guardians (οἱ τρεῖς ἄχραντοι φύλακες τῶν νοερῶν πατέρων) has the role of protecting the Three Fathers from contamination through contact with inferior entities. Finally comes the seventh monad, by means of which Zeus divides himself from Kronos and at the same time from the kosmos that he has created and arranged. Proklos especially underlines that the Demiurge of the universe can be identified neither with the summit of the intellectual gods (i.e. Kronos) nor with the second intellectual principle (i.e. Rhea). Kronos keeps all the differences in himself but does not express them.56 Rhea causes life to emerge, she is the vivific and maternal principle which differs from the paternal and demiurgic principle in the same way as the infinite (ἄπειρον) differs from limit (πέρας):57 καὶ τὸ μέσον κέντρον ζωογονικὸν ὑπάρχον οὐκ ἀφώρισται κατὰ τὴν πατρικὴν ***, τὸ γὰρ γεννητικὸν τοῦ πατρικοῦ 52 53 54 55 56 57

and the middle centre being vivific, is not defined according to the paternal . For the generative very much differs from the paternal, and the vivific from the demiurgic

Proklos describes it in Book IV of Platonic Theology (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. V (11) 37, 1–5. P, Theol. Plat. V (13) 43, 26. P, Theol. Plat. V (12) 41, 4. Cf. P, Theol. Plat. V (13) 42, 23f. (ed. S and W). P, Theol. Plat. V (13) 44, 10–17 (ed. S and W), translation by T, see n. 8, slightly modified.

Proklos and Plethon on Beauty

καὶ τὸ ζωογόνον τοῦ δημιουργικοῦ γένους πάμπολυ διαφέρει, καθ’ ὅσον οἶμαι καὶ αἱ ἀρχαὶ τῶν ὅλων διακόσμων ἀλλήλων διακέκρινται, τὸ πέρας λέγω καὶ τὸ ἄπειρον. ᾿Ανάγεται γὰρ ἡ μὲν δημιουργικὴ καὶ πατρικὴ τάξις εἰς τὸ πέρας, ἡ δὲ ζωογόνος καὶ γεννητικὴ πᾶσα δύναμις εἰς τὸ ἄπειρον.

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genus; so far, I think, as the principles of the whole orders, I mean limit and infinity, differ from each other. For the demiurgic and paternal order is referred to limit; but all vivific and generative power, to infinity.

While the Demiurge of the entire universe (i.e. Zeus) is separated from the universe, the hegemonic deities (ἡγεμονικοὶ θεοί) which are subordinated to him are supramundane, supracosmic deities that, on the one hand, are above the universe and yet, on the other hand, are referred to it. The hegemonic deities divide the unified demiurgic production (διαιρεῖ μὲν τὸ ἡνωμένον τῆς δημιουργικῆς ποιήσεως).58 They are arranged in four series or levels. The first level is the level of the “Three Fathers” (Zeus II, Poseidon and Pluto); the second level corresponds to Life (Artemis, Persephone and Athena). The third level elevates all and converts to the above (the Three Apollos),59 and the fourth level is that of the Guardians. In accordance with the triadic structure of his system, Proklos conceives the hegemonic deities as the first term of the triad “Supracosmic – Encosmic-and-Supracosmic – Encosmic”.60

Plethon on Beauty Plethon’s views on beauty have already been discussed in more general terms in a previous publication on this subject.61 After a short review of previous contributions to the question of Plethonian aesthetics,62 the author demonstrates that even though Plethon had little interest in the arts,63 the subject of beauty played 58 59 60 61 62

63

P, Theol. Plat. VI (3) 16, 11. Cf. also J. O. La démiurgie des jeunes Dieux selon Proclus. Les études classiques 71 (2003), 5–49. Cf. P, Theol. Plat. VI (5) 26 (ed. S and W). Cf. P, Theol. Plat. VI (15) 72–73 (ed. S and W). Cf. S. M. Der Begriff des Schönen in der Philosophie Plethons. Byzantion 81 (2011), 267–287. Most importantly, V. V. B. Малая история византийской эстетики. Киев, 1991, 340ff. and D. G. K. Τό πρόβλημα τῆς αἰσθητικῆς μορφῆς στόν Πλήθωνα. Byzantinai meletai 3 (1991), 299–349. This fact was already pointed out by W, see n. 6, xi and justly contradicts the image of Plethon which had been created in Modern Greek fiction, e.g. by Alexandros Papadiaman-

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an important role in a number of his extant works. Plethon formulated his views on beauty (1) in his treatise De virtutibus,64 (2) in Chapter 11 (of which a final section is preserved) of his Laws65 and (3) in a number of hymns and prayers to the Gods. More importantly, as the author has demonstrated, all these passages are not unrelated to each other but state, from different perspectives, Plethonian doctrine on the subject of beauty. In De virtutibus, i.e. in a predominantly ethical context, Plethon’s remarks are not free from aesthetic connotations. When discussing the virtue of self-restraint (σωφροσύνη) and, more specifically, generosity (ἐλευθεριότης), which in this treatise constitutes one of its sub-categories, he recommends using the means at one’s disposal with moderation in order to be able to enjoy beautiful things. To this advice he adds a warning: one should not value the beauty in matter (τὸ ἐν ταῖς ὕλαις κάλλος) more than the beauty in the soul. This remark is taken up by T-K who contrasts Plethon’s views on beauty with those expressed by Plotinos.66 The most important Plethonian text on the subject, i.e. the final section of chapter 11 of the third book of the Laws, is also embedded in the same ethical context as the remarks on beauty in De virtutibus and is again related to the virtue of σωφροσύνη, since the preceding chapter 10 and subsequent chapters 12 and 13 are all dedicated to this virtue.67 The third body of material on the same subject within the Plethonian corpus is contained in the hymns and prayers to the Gods, which are preserved in the final chapters of

64

65

66

67

tis in his novel ῾Η γυφτοπούλα, which had portrayed Plethon as a rich Renaissance noble, surrounded by antique statues and works of art. Text in B. T-K, ed. Γεωργίου Γεμίστου Πλήθωνος Περὶ ἀρετῶν: Georges Gémiste Pléthon Traité des vertus. Leiden, 1987; a German translation in W. B. Georgios Gemistos Plethon (1355–1452): Reformpolitiker, Philosoph, Verehrer der alten Götter. Zürich, 2005. Cf. the text and an English translation in the Appendix to this article, p. 73. Cf. also the German translation in M, see n. 61, 274f. French in A and P, see n. 3, 87f. Spanish in F. L. L and J. S. Tratado sobre las leyes. Memorial a Teodoro. Colección clásicos del pensamiento 111. Salamanca, 1995, 47 and Russian in I. P. M. Византийский гуманизм XIV-XV вв. 2nd ed. first edition Moskva: Nauka 1976. Sankt Peterburg, 1997. Cf. T-K, Γεωργίου Γεμίστου Πλήθωνος Περὶ ἀρετῶν: Georges Gémiste Pléthon Traité des vertus, see n. 64, 97. Cf. also F. M. Pléthon et le platonisme de Mistra. Paris, 1956, 255: “La libéralité de Pléthon est donc celle de l’homme de goût, de l’aristocrate suffisamment dégagé des besoins matériels pour pouvoir employer une partie de ses ressources à satisfaire son amour du beau. C’est la libéralité de l’artiste ou du mécène de la Renaissance, non pas celle du chrétien médiéval ni, non plus, celle du philanthrope moderne.” This remark echoes in some way the image of Plethon created by by Alexandros Papadiamantis, cf. n. 63 above. Cf. the titles of these chapters: 10 Περὶ σωφροσύνης, 12 Περὶ εἰδῶν σωφροσύνης and 13 Περὶ δυνάμεως, διὰ μέσης τῆς περὶ εἰδῶν σωφροσύνης ὑποθέσεως. The text of these chapters is not preserved. The parallels between the composition of the Laws and De virtutibus were already noticed by M, see n. 66, 402f.

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book three.68 This body of material provides conclusive evidence that the ethical and aesthetic views which Plethon expressed in De virtutibus and in chapter 11 of the Laws are grounded in his ontology. While in the extant section of chapter 11 Plethon defines the beautiful with the help of the notion of limit (πέρας) which puts an end to the endless expansion of ἀπειρία, in the hymns Plethon associates the “limit” with Poseidon (idea of ideas) and the “infinitude” with Hera (idea of matter) and explicitly terms Poseidon as “the limit itself and the beautiful itself ” (αὐτοπέρας καὶ αὐτοκαλόν).69 The ontology which underlies these Plethonian views deserves special consideration, which is provided here. The aim of the following section is to show in which respects Plethon’s views are significantly different from those of Proklos, whose theory of the beautiful has been outlined in the first part of this article. The main difference between the systems of Proklos and Plethon lies in the fact that Plethon rejects the negative theology of Proklos and conceives the first principle not as an uncognizable supra-essential God, but as being itself, unity itself, good itself (αὐτοών, αὐτοέν, αὐτοαγαθός).70 According to Plethon, the first principle is not above being, but the only principle which has being from itself. Plethon attributes to it some of the properties which Proklos would have ascribed to the Demiurge. The first principle, which in the system of Plethon has the name Zeus, is at the same time Father and Demiurge, or to be precise “Father of Fathers” and “Demiurge of Demiurges” (πάτερ πατέρων [. . . ] δημιουργέ τε δημιουργῶν).71 This doctrine differs significantly from that of Proklos, who explains in the Platonic Theology why Plato in the Timaios 28c3–5 calls the Demiurge ‘Father and Demiurge’. Proklos stresses that the Father is the one who generates the Gods and the supra-essential Henads, while the Demiurge is the one who gives subsistence to beings (τῶν ὄντων ὑποστάτης);72 the Father generates the whole whereas the Demiurge can generate only the parts; the Father is a transcendent cause, but the Demiurge is a causa proxima; the Father is a cause of unity, whereas the Demiurge is the cause of the formative power (εἰδοποιίας αἴτιον);73 the Father generates by mere being and the Demiurge through his activity. Proklos also specifies, and this has fundamental importance, that the first God (i.e. the One) is above the name “Father”, but this name can be ascribed to the first Gods (i.e. the Henads and the intelligible Gods). In the third intelligible triad, i.e. the intelligible Intellect, the 68 69 70 71 72 73

Cf. P, Laws, chapters 34ff. Cf. P, Laws 158 (ed. A and P), quoted on p. 70 below. P, Laws 169 (ed. A and P). P, Laws 171 (ed. A and P). Cf. P, Theol. Plat. V (16) 53, 1–12 (ed. S and W). Cf. P, Theol. Plat. V (16) 53, 1–2 (ed. S and W).

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demiurgic comes up for the first time. In Proklos’ view, the demiurgic is predominant in Zeus, i.e. the demiurgic Intellect, as the third term of the first intellectual triad. Zeus is Father as well. On the contrary, the Gods that are subordinate to Zeus (i.e. to the triad Kronos – Rhea – Zeus) can only be Demiurges and not Fathers.74 Another significant difference between Proklos and Plethon consists in the lack of the intermediaries. Proklos, as previously shown,75 makes several attempts to mediate between the First Principle and the Being (the Henads as well as the supraessential principles of πέρας and ἀπειρία between the One and the Being itself ). Plethon, on the contrary, conceives Zeus in such a way that he generates his sons directly, without a maternal principle.76 Zeus generates directly (ἀμέσῳ) his first and most powerful son, Poseidon, taking only himself as a paradigm. Poseidon is a form, though not a particular form, but rather the totality of forms and a cause of every singular form.77 Poseidon can be compared with the Proklean intelligible plane, but with the difference that in Plethon there is no distinction between the intelligible and the intellectual planes. Poseidon is the limit itself (αὐτοπέρας) and the beautiful itself (αὐτοκαλόν) and “that which is beautiful” (αὐτὸ ὅ ἐστιν καλὸν).78 It is on this account that he is the God who presides over all that is beautiful79 and he is the one from whom all things receive the form, limit and beauty which is proper to them:80 [. . . ] αὐτοεῖδός τε ὢν καὶ αὐτοπέρας καὶ αὐτοκαλόν· δι’ οὗ πάντα τὰ ὄντα, τοῦ τε εἴδους σφῶν καὶ πέρατος τυγχάνοντα, καὶ κάλλος ἅμα τὸ αὐτοῖς προσῆκον ἕκαστα ἀπολαμβάνει. 74

75 76 77 78 79 80

[. . . ] to you who are the form itself and the limit itself and the beautiful itself; through you all beings receive their form and limit together with the beauty which befits them.

P, Theol. Plat. V (16) 57, 10–15. Plethon explains that among men generating (γεννᾷν), as opposed to creating (δημιουργεῖν), is not subject to dianoia; in the case of Zeus, however, δημιουργεῖν is the same as γεννᾷν. Cf. P, Laws 100: Τὸν δὲ Δία τῇ ἄκρᾳ ἁπλότητι οὐκ ἄλλως μὲν γεννᾷν, δημιουργεῖν δ’ ἂν ἄλλως· οὐδὲ γεννᾷν μὲν ἕτερα, ἕτερα δ’ ἂν δημιουργεῖν· ἀλλὰ τὰ αὐτὰ καὶ δημιουργεῖν ὁμοῦ καὶ γεννᾷν, σύν τε νοήσει τῇ τοῦ οἷα ἂν γενέσθαι ἕκαστα δέοι, γεννῶντα, σύν τε αὖ τῷ πεφυκέναι ὡσαύτως παράγειν ἀεὶ τὰ παραγόμενα, δημιουργοῦντα. Zeus is Father and Demiurge at once, because only the common nature can establish a true unity between the superior and the inferior; however, he generates children who are not of equal rank with him, which makes a hierarchy possible, cf. P, Laws 103 and T-K, Pléthon, le retour de Platon, see n. 7, 141–142. Cf. p. 60ff. above. Cf. P, Laws 93 (ed. A and P). Cf. P, Laws 105 (ed. A and P). P, Laws 206 (ed. A and P). Cf. P, Laws 182 (ed. A and P). P, Laws 158 (ed. A and P).

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The limit (πέρας) is no longer a supra-essential principle; it is still, like in Proklos, the very first principle that comes after the First Principle; Plethon identifies it with Intellect, so that Beauty is linked with the Intelligible and with the limit. Since the explication of the divine Pantheon in Plethon is dihairetical and not triadic, as in Proklos, the moment of the ἐπιστροφή is omitted,81 which means that beauty in Plethon can no longer be the manifestation of that which is ineffable in itself and recalls everything back to the ineffable One by turning everything towards it. The dihairetic method in Plethon can be illustrated by using the example of the procession of Hera from Poseidon. After Zeus has generated the first of his sons, he takes him as a paradigm in order to generate a third deity.82 Zeus divides (διαιροῦντα) Poseidon and lets come out of him that which he implicitly contained. Hera, who comes into being in this way, is sprung from Poseidon and is inferior to him.83 Just as Plethon connects Poseidon, i.e. Intellect, with limit (πέρας), in a similar way he connects Hera with ἀπειρία. Hera is the principle which generates matter (ὕλης παραγωγοῦ θεοῦ),84 the principle of production, of the quantity and of the infinite.85 She contains all forms in herself and she is the cause of the most ancient matter which potentially contained all forms:86 [. . . ] τὴν δὲ ἔργῳ αὖ καὶ αὐτὴν ἅπαντα κεκτημένην εἴδη, οὐκέτι καὶ τοῖς τῇδε ἔργῳ οὐδοτουοῦν εἴδους αἰτίαν γίγνεσθαι· ἀλλ’ ὕλης μάλιστα τῆς πρεσβυτάτης, ἣ αὖ ἅπαντα εἴδη δυνάμει, οὐκ ἔργῳ, ἐστίν·

[. . . ] and she also actually contains all forms, but she does not actually become the cause of the forms at all, but rather [the cause of ] the oldest matter, which is all the forms potentially, not actually.

Plethon’s conception of Hera is inspired not only by Plotinos but also by Proklos, and especially by the Proklean concept of ἀπειρία.87 Hera is not the last offspring of Zeus in the Plethonian Pantheon. In his Laws Plethon unfolds an entire universe of secondary deities: according to him, Zeus generates not only a family of legitimate children (Poseidon and Hera belong to this group) but also a family of illegitimate children, i.e. the Titans. Poseidon and his brothers and sisters also 81 82 83 84 85 86 87

Cf. T-K, Pléthon, le retour de Platon, see n. 7, 158. Cf. P, Laws 103 (ed. A and P). Cf. T-K, Pléthon, le retour de Platon, see n. 7, 160 and 163. P, Laws 207 (ed. A and P). Cf. P, Laws 159 (ed. A and P). P, Laws 105 (ed. A and P). Cf. T-K, Pléthon, le retour de Platon, see n. 7, 160–161 refers to the Plotinian notion of intelligible matter in Enn. II 4, 15 but also to ἀπειρία in Proklos, which has a different position in the system of Proklos if compared with that of Plethon.

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have children,88 who are dihairetically divided into two families: one is the celestial family of the stars and the other is the terrestrial family of the demons. The views of Plethon and Proklos on beauty can be further compared with regard to that “which has a higher station of being” (μᾶλλον ὂν), which plays a prominent role in the Plethonian fragment on beauty. As already mentioned, in proposition 86 of his Elements of Theology Proklos specifies that partition dissipates and dissolves the potency;89 indivisibility, on the contrary, compresses and concentrates it without exhaustion or diminution, which means that the true Being (ὄντως ὂν), which is closest to the One (i.e. the intelligible plane), is infinite not in size or in quantity but in potency. In his fragment on beauty, Plethon stresses that that which is unlimited in the sense of multiplicity, quantity or mass is not that which is truly existent and has a higher station of being (μᾶλλον ὂν). For Plethon, that which is μᾶλλον ὂν is that which is imperishable (ἀνώλεθρον) and the ἀνώλεθρον is the unity and all that is either similar to unity or has become similar to it on account of symmetry and analogy. In spite of a number of superficial similarities between Plethon and Neoplatonic philosophers, especially Proklos, their views on beauty are radically different. Proklos, on the one hand, clearly distinguishes the beautiful from the Good and assigns to the former a number of important and precisely defined functions within his system. For Plethon, on the other hand, the beautiful plays an important role as well, since he explicitly associates it with Poseidon, who is in his Pantheon “the limit itself ” and, at the same time, the totality of forms. However, Plethon deprives the beautiful of the fundamental role it played within Proklean philosophy, i.e. of attracting towards itself and bringing about the return (ἐπιστροφή) towards the One. On several occasions Plethon discusses this subject in predominantly ethical contexts and so opens up the possibility of a conflation between the ethic and aesthetic aspects of the problem.

88 89

P, Laws 53 (ed. A and P). Cf. p. 62 above.

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Appendix Chapter 11 of the Laws bears the title On measure and symmetry (Περὶ μέτρου τε καὶ συμμετρίας). The following text most probably formed the very last part of it.90 (1) Τὸ

δὲ δὴ καλὸν τοῦτο ἐν μέτρῳ τε καὶ τοῖς συμμέτροις διωκτέον, καὶ ὅλως ὅρῳ, οὐκ ἐν ἀμετρίᾳ, οὐδέ γε τῷ ἀορίστῳ τε καὶ ἀεὶ πλείονι. (2) Καίτοι ἀπορήσειεν ἄν τις, εἰ τὸ μᾶλλον ὂν καὶ ἄμεινον ἅμα, τί δήποτε οὐ τὸ ἀεὶ πλέον, ἀλλὰ τὸ μὴ τὸ μέτριον ὑπερβάλλον, κάλλιόν τε ἅμα καὶ ἄμεινον· (3) ῞Οτι δὴ οὐ τὸ πλήθει τε πλέον καὶ ὄγκῳ μεῖζον μᾶλλον ὂν, οὐδ’ ὅλως τὸ τῷ ποσῷ ὑπερβάλλον, ἀλλὰ πολὺ πρότερον τὸ πρὸς τὸ ἀνώλεθρον εὖ μᾶλλον πεφυκός. (4) Εὖ δὲ μᾶλλον πέφυκε πρὸς τὸ ἀνώλεθρον τὸ ἕν τε καὶ μᾶλλον ἡνωμένον· (5) μᾶλλον δ’ ἥνωται ἁπλοῦν μὲν συνθέτου, σύμμετρον δ’ ἀσυμμέτρου, τά τε ἀνάλογον ἔχοντα τῶν οὐκ ἀνάλογον ἐχόντων. (6) Τὸ γὰρ αὐτὸ μέτρον, λόγος τε ὁ αὐτὸς, κοινὰ γιγνόμενα, τά τε μετρούμενα, τά τε ἀνάλογον ἔχοντα ὡς μάλιστα ἑνοῖ. (7) Τὰ δὲ μήτε ἐκ συμμέτρων τῶν ἑαυτῶν μερῶν, ἤπου ἀνάλογον ἐχόντων, μήτε πρὸς ἃ αὐτὰ 90

(1) This

beautiful must be sought in the measure and in the symmetrical [relations], and on the whole in the bound, not in the lack of measure, and also not in the unlimited and not in that which is always more. (2) One could ask, however: since that which has a higher station of being is also better as well, why is not that which is always more, but rather that which does not exceed measure, is more beautiful and better? (3) Because neither that which is more in the sense of amount, nor that which is bigger in respect of [its] mass is that which has a higher station of being, nor on the whole that which exceeds through [its] quantity, but that which is oriented towards the unperishable. (4) That which is more oriented towards the unperishable, is the One and that which is more united. (5) That which is simple is more united than that which is composite, the symmetrical more than unsymmetrical, the proportional [Pl.] more than the unproportional. (6) For the measure itself and the proportion itself is the common [element], that unites most that which has measure and proportion. (7) The [things] that are symmetrical neither on account of the proportion of their parts that are symmetrical among themselves, nor in respect to [other things], to which they are related, and parts of which they themselves constitute, and

The preserved text begins with a demonstrative pronoun (Τὸ δὲ δὴ καλὸν τοῦτο [. . . ]). There is no word to which this demonstrative refers, which can be taken as an indication that the beginning of the chapter is lost. The last sentence of the chapter, on the contrary, indicates that the end of the argument has been reached. And so it is reasonable to suppose that the very last portion of this chapter is preserved in its entirety.

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τέτακται, καὶ ὧνπερ μέρη καὶ αὐτὰ ὄντα τυγχάνει, μετρίως ἔχοντα, ἅτε δὴ οὐδ’ ἡνωμένα, πλεῖστον ἤδη καὶ τοῦ ἀνωλέθρου ἀποπίπτει. (8) Διὰ ταῦτα ἐν μέτρῳ τε ἀεὶ καὶ ὅρῳ τὸ μᾶλλόν τε ὂν καὶ ἅμα κάλλιόν τε καὶ ἄμεινον, οὐ τῷ ἀεί τε πλείονι καὶ ὅλως ἀορίστῳ. Καὶ περὶ μὲν τούτου ἐς τοσοῦτον.

also the things that are not united fall short of the unperishable the most. (8) For this reason that which has a higher station of being and also the more beautiful and the better always consists in the measure and in the limit, not in that which is always more and which is completely indefinite. So much on this subject.

Toward a self-determined and emotional gaze: Agathias and the icon of the Archangel Michael Aglae Pizzone Byzantine art theory may be an elusive subject. Byzantine aesthetics even more so. One can not escape the feeling of facing a maze of impossibly entangled perspectives. In their introduction to this volume, S M and W-M S try to both define and describe the boundaries of such uncharted and often confusing ground. I will therefore not delve into such general problems again. In will rather focus on a sigle text, an epigram by Agathias, devoted to an image of the Archangel Michael (AP I 34).1 I will proceed to a thorough reading of the poem, providing both a new translation, challenging M’s standard English version,2 and a new overall interpretation of the epigram. At the same time my analysis will open up a new perspective on the developments of Byzantine aesthetics prior to the iconoclastic struggle. In so doing I will address more general issues, implicit in Agathias’ epigram. In particular, I will shed light on early Byzantine notions of imagination, against the background of contemporary religious and philosophical debates. To this end, I will approach Byzantine art theory from the angle of the beholder, focusing on the cognitive processes triggered by vision. This angle has been overlooked in the few works explicitly dealing with Byzantine aesthetic theories. However, the beholder’s perspective has now become one of the main concerns of art historians and historians of religion.3 Such a tendency is far from 1

2

3

The epigram is part of a group revolving around the Archangel Michael (AP I 32–36). See G. P. Subtle Bodies: Representing Angels in Byzantium. Los Angeles, 2001, 95–103 (especially 95, n. 23 for further contextualization). C. M. The Art of the Byzantine Empire 312–1453: Sources and Documents. Toronto, 2004, 115. An alternative translation is offered by R. C. The Wall-Painting of St. Michael in the Theater. In: Aphrodisias Papers 2. The Theater, a Sculptor’s Workshop, Philosophers, and Coin-Types. Ed. by R. R. R. S and K. T. E. Ann Arbor, 1991, 109–122, 121; now in R. C. The Eyes of the Mother of God. In: Images of the Mother of God: perceptions of the Theotokos in Byzantium. Ed. by M. V. Aldershot-Burlington, 2005, 167–179, 170. As to works dealing with Byzantine aesthetics see P. A. M. An Aesthetic Approach to Byzantine Art. London, 1964; G. M. Byzantine Aesthetics. London, 1963; V. V. B. L’estetica bizantina. Problemi teorici. Bari, 1983. As for the interest in the beholder on the part of art-historians, the contributions are countless; see above all G. F. The Memory of the Eyes: Pilgrims to Living Saints in Christian Late Antiquity. Los Angeles, 2000; R. S. N, ed. Visuality before and beyond the Renaissance. Cambridge, 2000. But already L. B. Perception and Conception: Art, Theory and Culture in Ninth Century Byzantium. Word and Image 5 (1989), 19–32. Of paramount importance have been the studies on rhetoric as a means to shape the viewer’s response (in ekphraseis and beyond). See most recently S. P. Byzantine Enargeia and Theories of Representation. Byzantinoslavica 69.3 (2011), 48–60. Other contributions on this topic will be mentioned on the next pages.

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surprising. The beholder’s gaze plays a primary role in the religious practices linked to sacred art. Accordingly, focusing on the onlooker, I argue, proves to be useful to gain a better understanding of Byzantine aesthetics in its distinctiveness. Under this respect, dealing with a text prior to the doctrinal quarrels prompted by the iconoclastic struggle offers a series of methodological advantages. By way of introduction, I shall take a quick look at such advantages. Questions of method First, concentrating on the onlooker allows us to look at Byzantine aesthetics as a cultural phenomenon in continuity with early Christian and Graeco-Roman theories of art perception. Graeco-Roman intellectuals, both Christian and pagan, bequeathed a number of explicit statements concerning the practices of looking and the power of gaze.4 By comparing them with later evidence it is possible to single out continuities and changes in the assessment of the onlooker’s responses to an artwork – or, more in general, to visual stimuli. If anything is peculiar to the Byzantine approach, we must have steady terms of comparison in order to describe it. Second, any pre-Kantian aesthetic discourse is quintessentially ‘pragmatic’. This means that aesthetic experience does not stand out for its uniqueness, but is construed as embedded in the more general process of perceiving and responding to visual stimuli. Thus, aesthetic experience must be viewed as integrated in everyday practices.5 Aesthetic theories are just a part of a wider theoretical context that 4

5

In the last years scholars have widely investigated such statements. See: J. E. Art and the Roman Viewer: The Transformation of Art from the Pagan World to Christianity. Cambridge, 1997; S. G. The Erotic Eye: Visual Stimulation and Cultural Conflict. In: Being Greek under Rome. Cultural Identity, the Second Sophistic, and the Development of Empire. Ed. by S. G. Cambridge, 2001, 154–194; S. B. The Mirror of the Self: Sexuality, Self-Knowledge, and the Gaze in the Early Roman Empire. Chicago, 2006; S. B. Wait a Moment, phantasia: Ekphrastic Interference in Seneca and Epictetus. In: Essays on Ekphrasis, Special issue of Classical Philology. Ed. by S. B and J. E. Vol. 102. 2007, 83– 95; J. T. The Invention of Art History in Ancient Greece: Religion, Society and Artistic Rationalisation. Cambridge, 2006; J. R. C. Art in the Lives of Ordinary Romans: Visual Representation and Non-Elite Viewers in Italy, 100 B.C.-A.D. 315. Los Angeles, 2006; M. K. Mimesis or Phantasia? Two Representational Modes in Roman Commemorative Art. Classical Antiquity 24 (2007), 285–306; L. S. N. Christian Responses to Roman Art and Architecture: The Second-Century Church Amid the Spaces of Empire. Cambridge, 2011. P has recently devoted a study to the role played by senses in the veneration of the icons: B. V. P. The Sensual Icon. Space, Ritual, and the Senses in Byzantium. Philadelphia, 2010. See also L. J. Senses and Sensibility In Byzantium. Art History 27 (2004), 522–537. J suitably sees the beholder as an individual situated in a challenging sensory world where sight is only one of the senses at stake. On smell in religious contexts see also S. A. H. Scenting Salvation: Ancient Christianity and the Olfactory Imagination. Berkeley, 2006.

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explains how the information brought about by sense perception is processed. Concentrating on the beholder helps us remember that we cannot talk about Byzantine – but also ancient – aesthetics without taking into account the relevant psychological theories. I did not use the term ‘pragmatic’ by chance. I have been wondering for a long time about the problem whether any modern philosophical approach could fit the constants of Byzantine aesthetic thought. D’s pragmatic aesthetics, I argue, provides a viable paradigm. His Art as Experience, first published in 1934,6 has been neglected for many decades in the post Second World War period. However, from the eighties onwards, D’s work has enjoyed a renewed youth, so to say, through S’s work.7 Strikingly, D’s way to conceptualize aesthetic experience offers very useful interpretative tools to understand the Byzantine approach to art perception. In particular, we can remember: – the rooting of aesthetics in the natural needs, constitution and activities of the human organism; – a dynamic understanding of form, as interaction with the environment; – the recognition of the global functionality of art; – the cultural primacy of the aesthetic experience and its primacy over science; – a strongly argued continuity between matter and spirit, ideal and sensuous experience; – a strong censure of every elitist aesthetic compartmentalization. In what follows, I will pursue my analysis of Agathias’ epigram by keeping in mind these theoretical benchmarks. Third, I chose to concentrate on a pre-iconoclastic text in order to emphasize some peculiar features of byzantine practices of looking, which are independent from the subsequent cultural clash involving holy images. As I aim to prove, some distinctive motives, while surviving through the iconoclastic controversy, will receive a slightly different treatment during and after the struggle.8 Iconoclasm has always attracted huge scholarly attention, overshadowing other periods and aspects of Byzantine aesthetics. However, the body of values by which the Byzantines understood their approach to visual aesthetics consolidated itself precisely between 6 7 8

J. D. Art as Experience. Carbondale, 2008. See above all R. S. Pragmatist Aesthetics: Living beauty, Rethinking Art. Oxford, 1992; R. S and A. T. Aesthetic Experience. New York and London, 2008 Shifts in the theoretical stances of the iconophiles have been detected also between the first and the second phase of the iconoclastic struggle. See: B, see n. 3; C. B. Writing on the Body. In: Desire and Denial in Byzantium. Ed. by L. J. Aldershot, 1999, 111–120.

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the fifth and the sixth century, before the enraged times of the struggle.9 A better insight into the ideological shifts of that period is crucial to appreciate both the debates and the ensuing changes occurring in later centuries. Self-directed enlightenment Now, let us turn to our text. The sixth century poet and historian Agathias dedicates a renowned and much studied10 epigram (AP I 34) to a new image of the Archangel Michael in the church of the Plate. The eight-line anathematic poem is not an ἔκφρασις stricto sensu. Agathias rather illustrates the way the onlooker travels across the “transparent window of the icon”, eventually reaching the world beyond the mirror.11 The epigram reads as follows: ῎Ασκοπον ἀγγελίαρχον, ἀσώματον εἴδεϊ μορφῆς, ἆ μέγα τολμήεις, κηρὸς ἀπεπλάσατο. ἔμπης οὐκ ἀχάριστον, ἐπεὶ βροτὸς εἰκόνα λεύσσων θυμὸν ἀπιθύνει κρέσσονι φαντασίῃ· οὐκέτι δ’ ἀλλοπρόσαλλον ἔχει σέβας, ἀλλ’ ἐν ἑαυτῷ τὸν τύπον ἐγγράψας ὡς παρεόντα τρέμει· ὄμματα δ’ ὀτρύνουσι βαθὺν νόον· οἶδε δὲ τέχνη χρώμασι πορθμεῦσαι τὴν φρενὸς ἰκεσίην.12 9 10

11

12

Cf. A. C. The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation. In: The Church and the Arts. Ed. by D. W. Oxford, 1992, 1–42. See E. K. The Cult of Images in the Age before Iconoclasm. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 8 (1954), 138–40; G. V, ed. Agazia Scolastico: Epigrammi. Milano, 1967; R. C. MC. The Cycle of Agathias: New Identifications Scrutinised. The Journal of Hellenic Studies 89 (1969), 87–96; R. C. MC. The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus. Byzantion 41 (1971), 205–67; A. C. Agathias. Oxford, 1970, 105; A. C. Images of Authority: Elites and Icons in Late Sixth-Century Byzantium. Past and Present 84 (1979), 3– 35, 27–28; C, The Wall-Painting of St. Michael in the Theater, see n. 2, 121–122; G. A. The poikilia of Paul the Bishop. Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 116 (1997), 31–38, 37; G. A. Immagini e poesia nella tarda antichità. Per uno studio dell’estetica visuale della poesia greca fra III e IV sec. d. C.. In: Phantasia: il pensiero per immagini degli antichi e dei moderni. Atti del convegno internazionale, Incontri triestini di filologia classica. Vol. 4. 2004–2005, 351–374, 366. Cf. also A. C and A. C. The Cycle of Agathias. The Journal of Hellenic Studies 86 (1966), 6–25, 21–22. As a preliminary step, the icon brings holiness to our side of the mirror (see C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 15, n. 21 with further bibliography). The last verse is somehow problematic. The manuscript tradition is consistent in presenting ἰκεσίην, adopted by all the editors but B in the second edition of his Anthologia Graeca (H. B. Anthologia Graeca, Buch I-VI. ed. by H. B. 2. Verbesserte Auflage. München, 1965). After the review of the first edition by L (Gnomon, 30 1958, 271), B accepts the conjecture εἰκασίη, proposed in 1929 by P in reviewing W’s edition published in

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On an image of Michael at Plate The wax – how daring! – molded the invisible, the incorporeal archangel in the semblance of his form. Yet it was no thankless [task], since the mortal man who beholds the image directs his spirited impulse by way of a superior imagination. His veneration is no longer distracted: engraving within himself the model, he trembles as if he were in the latter’s presence. The eyes stir up a deep intellection, and art is able by means of colors to ferry over the heart’s prayer. As scholars have repeatedly pointed out, Agathias gives an extremely powerful description of the gnoseological process leading from sight to knowledge. Resting on the ontological value of the icon,13 he depicts how the onlooker, first physically perceives the image, and then reaches an intellectual understanding of the divine. What interests me here, however, is not the final result – i.e. the intellectual contemplation –, but, rather, the different cognitive stages of the ascent, the process through which the final goal is achieved.

13

1928 (The Classical Review, 43 1928, 184). His translation then runs as follows: “Führt mit den Farben die Kunst Bilder der Seele herauf ”. However, W himself in the second edition of his Anthologie Grecque (P. W, ed. Anthologie Grecque, Premiere Partie, Anthologie Palatine. Tome I. (Livres I-IV). Paris, 1960) did not accept P’s suggestion. The conjecture is justified by P by saying: “ἰκεσίην is not a good word in view of in line 4. We may conjecture εἰκασίη, ‘imaginem, mente sua conceptam.’ Agathias uses ἰκεσίην in V. 216, 2, whence it may have slipped into this Epigram”. Be that as it may, from B’s second edition P’s text made its way into the TLG, causing some confusion. As a matter of fact, the new text is sometimes printed together with translations based on the ‘older text’ (see for instance, A. P. Late Antique Phantasia and the Greek Fathers: a Survey. In: New Perspectives on Late Antiquity. Newcastle, 2011, 416–432, 425–426; A, Immagini e poesia nella tarda antichità. Per uno studio dell’estetica visuale della poesia greca fra III e IV sec. d. C., see n. 10, 366; contra A, The poikilia of Paul the Bishop, see n. 10, 37). Although he bases his own translation on P’s text (W. P. The Greek Anthology. Vol. 1. London-New York, 1927), C, seems to be somehow aware of the problem, as, while keeping M’s ‘prayer’, he adopts a solution of compromise: “Through art and its colours the innermost prayer of the viewer is passed to the imagined” (C, The Wall-Painting of St. Michael in the Theater, see n. 2, 121; C, The Eyes of the Mother of God, see n. 2, 170). P’s conjecture is not devoid of sense. However, I will not delve into it here. I will present a discussion of P’s suggestion along with an analysis of the Platonic background of the epigram’s last line in my forthcoming monograph Imagination and the Construction of the Christian Beholder. The icon is conceived as having a direct relationship with its archetype. See G. L. The Concept of the Image in the Greek Fathers and the Byzantine Iconoclastic Controversy. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 7 (1953), 1–34; L. B. The Theology of the Images. In: Iconoclasm. Papers given at the Ninth Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies. Ed. by A. B and J. H. Birmingham, 1977, 7–13; C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 22–41; M.-J. M. Image, Icon, Economy: the Byzantine Origins of the Contemporary Imaginary. Stanford, 2005, 69–117.

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The epigram itself seems to call for such an interpretation. Agathias stresses the emotional impact of the image, eventually eliciting intellectual ascension. The painted portrait of Michael both stimulates embodied faculties and triggers a superior cognitive ability. Yet, interestingly enough, no more than a distich is devoted to the picture itself. The viewer takes the lion’s share, being the principal actor in Agathias’ narrative: after a short introduction, six lines out of eight focus on the beholder’s deep subjective involvement, highlighting his self-determined gaze and the role of non-rational feelings. The first point I would like to emphasize is therefore the autonomy of the beholder: he or she dynamically engages with the icon, taking advantage of a superior kind of imagination. I will enlarge more on this latter point in the next pages. For the moment, suffice it to say that the onlooker consciously moves forward from physical to metaphysical sight. It is a self-directed enlightening. Such a pronounced self-sufficiency is stressed by a peculiar treatment of the metaphor of the seal, used in line 6.14 Looking at the icon, the viewer inscribes in itself the model of the archangel, as if on a waxed surface. Agathias describes a kind of autonomous gaze that reminds of the “tactile and aggressive” characteristics denoting the “eye of faith”, as described by F.15 The simile of the imprint represents the key point here. The ubiquitous image has a twofold meaning. On the one hand, it is commonly used both by pagan and Christian sources to describe the processing and storing of visual stimuli or the response to overwhelming emotions.16 The beholder’s soul is typically compared to a wax tablet, upon which sense perception ‘inscribes’ or ‘imprints’ its traces. Since Aristotle, the metaphor was used to describe the functioning of sight according to the intromission theory.17 14 15

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17

The notion of ‘imprinted image’ was most common as regards icons. See, with previous bibliography, P, see n. 5, 17–44. F, see n. 3, 131. Under this respect Agathias’ beholder is more active than the one described in post iconoclastic Byzantium by, say, Symeon the Theologian in his well known encounter with the Theotokos’ icon (see C. B. Icons, Prayer, and Vision in the Eleventh Century. In: Byzantine Christianity. Ed. by D. K. Minneapolis, 2010, 154–155). The image of the τύπος is a very old one. It can be basically traced back to Plato’s Theaetetus (194c1–d7) and becomes very popular especially in Stoic philosophy (see G. W. Phantasia in Classical Thought. Galway, 1988, 99; R. W. Imagination and the Arousal of the Emotions in Greco-Roman Rhetoric. In: The Passions in Roman Thought and Literature. Ed. by S. M. B and C. G. Cambridge, 1997, 115–16; R. W. Ekphrasis, Imagination and Persuasion in Ancient Rhetorical Theory and Practice. Farnham-Burlington, 2009, 111–114; V. P. Making An Impression: Replication and the Ontology of the Graeco-Roman Seal Stone. Art History 29 (2006), 233–257; A. P. Ex epiboules phantazesthai. Dal divino inganno di Timeo alla phantasia plotiniana. Methexis 22 (2009), 127–150, 146–147, n. 75). For the Western Middle Ages, with further literature, see M. J. C. The book of memory: a study of memory in medieval culture. Cambridge, 2008, 69–76. A, De Anima 418a26–419b18 and F, see n. 3, 124–131.

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In the case of Agathias’ ἔκφρασις, though, such a simile is especially suitable. The image of the Archangel is an encaustic painting,18 a medium actually involving wax and wood. Moreover the tools required by such a technique were very similar to those used to write on wax tablets.19 In engraving the τύπος of the Archangel on his own soul, the onlooker, in a way, metaphorically repeats the painter’s gesture. However, this is not the end of the story. Way before being used for the first icons, encaustic painting was commonly employed for family portraits.20 According to classical and Graeco-Roman sources, such representations were deemed to evoke powerful emotions and memories, along with the impression of proximity and intimacy. It is a notion as old as Plato: an elderly Critias in the Timaeus links together familiar memories of his childhood and encaustic painting.21 Sixth centuries later, the same link can be traced, even more explicitly, in the Amatorius ascribed to Plutarch.22 I suggest that, by mentioning wax in the first place, Agathias points also to this set of meanings, connected with the idea of emotional representation and closeness. After all, in the seventh century, Leontios of Neapolis, when defending veneration of the holy images, equates them to the cherished memories of dead loved ones.23 This reading also squares with the idea that icons such as the one described by Agathias were used for private devotion.24 The image of the imprint, however, could also be negatively connotated and convey the moral ambiguity of the gaze. The squashy wax might suggest that the beholder, before submitting the stimuli to the rational judgment, is nothing more than a passive receptacle, yielding to his own eyes. That is why early Christians had resorted to the very same metaphor to criticise the pagan gaze.25 The softness of wax was a good simile for a compliant onlooker, uncritically yielding to the feelings prompted by seducing images. It also implied that the soul was prone to changes and reshaped according to the material stimuli coming from the sensible world. Plotinos, for instance, discards such a stance, denying that the “contact” between 18

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This is implied by the mention of wax in line 2: see MC, The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus, see n. 10, 242, n. C, The Wall-Painting of St. Michael in the Theater, see n. 2, 121. See P  E, Natural History XXXV, 41. Pliny the Elder, Natural History XXXV, 40 (the painter Pausias, thanks to his ability in encaustic painting, produced exquisite miniature-portraits of children). See P, Timaeus 26b7–c5. P, Amatorius 759B-C. L  N in PG 93, 1600C-D. See N. H. B. The Icons before Iconoclasm. The Harvard Theological Review 44 (1951), 93–106, 100. See J. H. The Formation of Christendom. Princeton, 1987, 466–475; C, The Wall-Painting of St. Michael in the Theater, see n. 2, 115; C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 19. See for instance C  A, Paedagogus III 11, 77 with G, see n. 4, 175.

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the object leaving its imprint and the soul happens in the soul itself. If so, the soul should contain the image, which is illogical.26 On the other hand, there is a further set of meanings connected to this image. The τύπος-metaphor can be traced in the Pauline Epistle to the Hebrews (1:3) and is commonly used by pro-Nicene apologetes to describe the notion of participation. The most famous and influential example can be found in Basil’s Homily on the Holy Ghost. Basil envisages the relationship between Father, Son and and Holy Ghost in terms of ἐντύπωσις.27 The Father has left His imprint on the Son, giving him His own shape, while the Holy Ghost is in turn a τύπος of the Son. What is more Basil argues that moving from the Son’s χαρακτήρ, from the veneration of His ‘image’, one can proceed up to the Father, to whom the ἰσοτύπως σφραγίς belongs. Thanks to the image, one can grasp the archetype as well.28 It is within this conceptual framework that Basil formulates the famous line “The honor paid to the image is transferred to its prototype”,29 which would be later on used by the iconophiles to back up their argument.30 Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites, whose work has been linked to Agathias’ epigrams on the Archangel Michael,31 resorts to the metaphor of the τύπος to exemplify the modes through which the Divinity communicates itself without being diminished.32 Ps.-Dionysios describes an archetypal seal, which logically stays whole and the same, even if it leaves after an array of impressions. Clearly enough, such a meaning is relevant to Agathias’ epigram as well. The wax is paradoxically molded according to the invisible outline of the Archangel. The divine and disembodied takes shape and becomes imparticipatively participated – to use Ps.-Dionysios’ words – in order to be perceived by the embodied individual. Its outline then leaves 26 27 28

29 30

31

32

P, Enneads IV 6, 1. Cf. A. G. Les origines de l’esthétique médiévale. Paris, 1992, 39–41. B, Homily on the Holy Ghost VI, 15 (PG 32, 92A). B, Homily on the Holy Ghost VII, 16 (PG 32, 96A). Basil seems to imply a strong ontological continuity, one that involves both the names and the reality they refer to. In chapter IX he explains how anagogic drives are enhanced by purification. The true knowledge is possible only thanks to ἡ πρὸς Θεὸν ὁμοίωσις (PG 32, 109C) B, Homily on the Holy Ghost XVIII, 45 (PG 32, 150C). See above all John of Damaskos, Expositio fidei 89, vol. II 206, 7–8; see also Theodoros Studites, Parva Catechesis 55, 30–42 with C. B. Contesting the Logic of Painting. Art and Understanding in Eleventh-Century Byzantium. Leiden and Boston, 2007, 13; MC, The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus, see n. 10, 246 suitably highlights the similarity between such a statement and Agathias’ stance. See P, Subtle Bodies: Representing Angels in Byzantium, see n. 1, 95. For Ps.-Dionysios’ presumable dates and context see A. L. Denys the Areopagite. Wilton, 1989, 1–16; P. R and J. C. L. John of Scythopolis and the Dionysian Corpus. Annotating the Areopagite. Oxford, 1998, 9–22; R. A. Pseudo-Dionysius as a Polemicist. The Development and Purpose of the Angelic Hierarchy in Sixth Century Syria. Aldershot-Burlington, 2008. P.-D A, On the Divine Names, II 5–6, 129, 4–130, 4.

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a further impression, a trace of its original τύπος, in the beholder’s θυμός, thanks to his willingness to be “imprinted”. This is a crucial point. Agathias, in fact, capsizes the standard pattern. It is not the outline that, simply, engraves itself in a passively staring onlooker. Quite the contrary, the beholder takes the initiative by engraving in himself the image bequeathed by the icon. Sense perception and the interplay of natural energies are not seen as exclusive of a strong deliberative intent. It is not just a matter of syntax. Agathias is depicting a new aesthetic approach, one that, while building on old motives, stands out for its radical novelty. Such a novelty can be partially traced in Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites as well. In The Divine Names II 6, Ps.-Dionysios stresses the responsibility of the recipient as regards the quality of the impression left by the seal.33 The neatness of the representation depends on the quality of the surface: in other words, the ontological value of the perceived image does not depend just on the image itself, but also on the disposition of the beholder. The active role of the recipient is stressed many times in the treatise on the Divine Names. Ps.-Dionysios underlines how the lack of participation is determined by the inability to receive the divine light.34 Furthermore he explains how the progress from darkness to light is prompted by desire: the more one desires and loves, the more he will be enlightened.35 Interestingly, when he comes to illustrate the relationship between desire and enlightenment Ps.Dionysios resorts to the words uttered by Jesus to forgive the sinful woman in Luke 7, 47: there is here an interplay between the disembodied and the embodied concept of emotional involvement.36 Such a strong accent on desire and love, as well as Ps.-Dionysios’ assumption that sense perception is also an echo of the divine Wisdom,37 brings me to my second point. In the next paragraph I focus my reading of Agathias’ epigram on the role played by the notion of matter in the relationship between the beholder and the icon. Embodied faculties At this point a terminological premise is needed. By ‘matter’, I mean not only the substantial, material object, i.e. the painted image, eliciting the beholder’s 33 34 35 36 37

Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites, On the Divine Names II 6, 129, 16–130, 4. Under this respect, see also B, Homily on the Holy Ghost IX 22–23 (PG 32, 108C–109B). See C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 32. P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 5, 149, 17–20. P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 10, 154, 19; IV 11, 156, 19–157, 3. Ps.-Dionysios stresses the fact that, while the mind dwells in the sensible world, the mediations (διαπορθμεύσεις) of sense perception and images are “more praiseworthy”.

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progress,38 but also the carnality of the beholder him/herself, the physicality of his/her sight. The vocabulary chosen by Agathias proves that the epigram stresses both the opposition and the continuity between what is material and what is disembodied. As a consequence, the power of the image turns out to be somehow paradoxical. The emotional stimuli triggered by the figure of the archangel uplift the spirit from the icon to a more intellectual and deeper understanding of the reality behind the painting. Yet, to be successful, the anagogic power of the image needs matter and embodied feelings. Before moving to contemplation, the beholder has to shake in astonishment. A closer reading of the text shows that the icon’s anagogic effect, acts on the viewer’s passionate part. Agathias does not mention the onlooker’s ψυχή, but more distinctively his θυμός. All modern translations I am aware of do not take into account this detail and render θυμός with terms like “soul” or “mind” vel similia. M in his standard English translation uses “mind” and so do C and P; MC goes for “soul” as do B and W (respectively “Seele” and “âme”), while, in Italian, V opts for “animo”.39 On the contrary, I think that θυμός has here a more specific meaning. Of course the epigram is characterized by a distinctive epic hue, which partially explains Agathias’ vocabulary.40 Nevertheless, I argue, the poet exploits the polysemic character of the language of epics in order to stress the shocking encounter between human earthly reality and divine ineffability. By pointing to θυμός, Agathias emphasizes the transformative power of images, converting natural appetites into immaterial love. The image of the Archangel does not work just through its symbolic meaning.41 It affects the flesh and blood of the beholder. Of course the two aspects (symbolic meaning and psychological involvement) are not incompatible. On the contrary, they enhance each other.42 Textual evidence seems to support this reading. 38 39

40

41

42

C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 35–40; P, Subtle Bodies: Representing Angels in Byzantium, see n. 1, 94 ff. P, see n. 12, 21; B, see n. 12, 142; W, see n. 12, 25; V, see n. 10, 171; C, The Wall-Painting of St. Michael in the Theater, see n. 2, 121; C, The Eyes of the Mother of God, see n. 2, 170; M, see n. 2, 115. Cf. H, Iliad V 792; VI 72; X, 220; 319. Agathias’ verse also resonates with Nonnian influences (λεύσσων in the last foot after a dactyl: N, Dionysiaca II 183; VI 344; Paraphrasis XIV 39; cf. H, Iliad XIX, 19; ἀλλοπροσάλλον in second and third foot, before the feminine caesura: Dionysiaca II 9; XIV 170 etc.). Cf. P, Subtle Bodies: Representing Angels in Byzantium, see n. 1, 95. Under this respect, I fully endorse the views expressed in T. F. M. Psychological Dimensions in the Art of Eastern Christendom. In: Art and Architecture in Byzantium and Armenia. Ed. by T. F. M. Aldershot, 1995, 1–21, 12 ff. Also C argues for a possible “more realist reading” of the Areopagite (C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 27). C focuses on the signs conveyed by liturgy, which promote a non-logical approach to God. C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 39.

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Both in the epigrams and in the Histories,43 θυμός usually depicts violent feelings, such as anger or courage, or portrays the effects of passion and love, sometimes arising from the sight of the beloved, as shown for instance by AP 9, 442, 1–3: Γριπεύς τις μογέεσκεν ἐπ’ ἰχθύσι· τὸν δ’ ἐσιδοῦσα εὐκτέανος κούρη θυμὸν ἔκαμνε πόθῳ καί μιν θῆκε σύνευνον. A fisherman laboured at fishes; after seeing him a wealthy girl found herself sick from desire in her heart and made him her own. The fact is that in I 34 Agathias describes the response to the icon in terms that remind of earthbound passions. After all, according to the Graeco-Roman tradition, beauty, both natural and artificial, was supposed to elicit amazement.44 Under this respect a good term of comparison is provided by a contemporary epigram by Macedonius Consul,45 describing in overtly profane terms the physical and psychological reactions of the lover in front of his darling girl. Visual imagination lets him shake in astonishment, while his inner Self is deeply affected (AP V 235= 8 ed. M): ῏Ηλθες ἐμοὶ ποθέοντι παρ’ ἐλπίδα· τὴν δ’ ἐνὶ θυμῷ ἐξεσάλαξας ὅλην θάμβεϊ φαντασίην καὶ τρομέω· κραδίη τε βυθῷ πελεμίζεται οἴστρου, ψυχῆς πνιγομένης κύματι Κυπριδίῳ. ἀλλ’ ἐμὲ τὸν ναυηγὸν ἐπ’ ἠπείροιο φανέντα σῶε τεῶν λιμένων ἔνδοθι δεξαμένη.46 You came past hope to me who was longing for you. In my amazement you shook profoundly all my imagination, and I tremble. And my heart in the depths of its passion quakes, while my soul drowns in the waves of love. But me, the shipwrecked sailor who has come near land, welcome within your harbour and safe (Trans. by M modified). As he does in his erotic poems, Agathias adapts old patterns to a new perspective.47 The affecting power of the gaze is now directed toward spiritual love. So, 43 44

45 46 47

See A, Histories II 1, 2; II 6, 7; III 27, 9. A typical example is provided by Cleitophon’s response to the ‘beauties’ of Alexandria in Achilles Tatius’ novel (V 1, 1 cf. I 4, 2). See H. M. Vision and Narrative in Achilles Tatius’ Leucippe and Clitophon. Cambridge, 2004, 104–105. J. A. M. Macedonius Consul: The Epigrams. Zürich-New York, 1995, 1–26. For a commentary to the epigram see M, see n. 45, 136–140; cf. also MC, The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus, see n. 10, 209. Cf. also P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 12, 158, 3–6.

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in AP I 34, θυμός seems to have a physical connotation, contrasting with the impalpable immateriality of the better φαντασία through which the icon operates. Not surprisingly, the two words respectively open and close the pentameter, thus underlining the quick, though radical, conversion. The icon bridges the gap between the material and the disembodied and the rift between the two dimensions is underscored by a verb like ὀτρύνω (v. 7), also employed in battle-descriptions.48 Now, if we go back to the current translations of line 4, one may conjecture that they are influenced by contemporary and later statements about the anagogic power of the icons, stressing the noetic aspects of the process. MC, for instance, draws a parallel between AP I 34 and Hypatios’ defense of the holy images, a text mainly focused on the intellectual side of icon-veneration.49 However, as MC does not fail to recognize, “Agathias’ language does not resemble this”.50 Moreover, later on, in the centuries marked by the iconoclastic controversy, iconophiles responded to the allegations of their enemies by highlighting, among other things, the noetic value of holy images. I do not argue here that iconophiles discarded sense perception altogether. Actually, it is quite the contrary.51 Nevertheless, we can detect a slight shift in the iconophile perspective as compared to Agathias’ views. Although imagination is considered crucial in processing the visual stimuli 48 49

50

51

Cf. H, Iliad IV 294, 414; V 461; VII 420. It can also indicate the action of urging on animals: Iliad XXIII 111. The verb ἀπευθύνω has also a similar meaning, see below. F. D. Analecta Patristica. Rome, 1938, 127–129. Cf. C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 27; B, see n. 23, 94–96. On Hypatios see also P. J. A. Hypatius of Ephesus: A Note on Image Worship in the Sixth Century. The Harvard Theological Review 45 (1952), 177–184; G. L. Bild und Wort. Die katechetischen Funktionen des Bildes in der griechischen Theologie des sechsten bis neunten Jahrhunderts. Würzburg, 1969, 44–60. The relationship between Hypatios and the Corpus Areopagiticum proposed by K, see n. 10, 138 and then endorsed by J. G. Hypatios d’Éphèse ou Du Pseudo-Denys à Théodore Studite. Revue des études byzantines 19 (1961), 63–75 has been more recently questioned (see A. A. Codex Parisinus Graecus 1115 and its Archetype. Washington DC, 1996, 93). MC, The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus, see n. 10, 242. Also the well known canon 82 of the Council in Trullo (692) describes the knowledge conveyed by the icons of Christ in purely noetic terms (κατανοῦντες). See for instance the Acts of Nicaea II: XIII 101E M and above all 360A13–B8. The Acts clearly state that the Church wants the believer to use all his senses to venerate God (see J. B. U. Der Horos des Zweiten Konzils von Nizäa 787, Interpretation und Kommentar auf der Grundlage der Konzilsakten mit besonderer Berücksichtigung der Bilderfrage. Paderborn-MünchenZürich, 2004, 260–264). Cf. also C. B. The Body within the Frame: A Use of Word and Image in Iconoclasm. Word and Image 9 (1993), 140–153; B, Writing on the Body, see n. 8; G. P. Icons’ Spirited Love. Religion and the Arts 13 (2009), 218–247. On the role played by imagination see A. P. Theodore and the Black Man: Imagining (through) the Icon in Byzantium. In: Knotenpunkt Byzanz. Ed. by A. S and P. S. New York and Berlin, 2012, 47–70.

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and in transmitting the affecting power of the icon,52 contemplation is not envisaged as a “better imagination”. The acts of the Second Council of Nicaea stress the sanctifying power of the icon, outlining a process whereby only the ‘mind’ is uplifted.53 Sense-perception and emotions work as gates to holiness, senses are purified, but irrational faculties and impulses do not take part into the anagogic process. It is the mind that gets imprinted.54 Agathias’ intermingling between body and mind is more radical and, perhaps, provocative. To prove my point, I shall resort to the Synodikon of Orthodoxy, whose first definitive form dates to the late ninth century.55 The Synodikon adopts a language suitable to the fight against the iconoclasts: Τῶν τῷ λόγῳ ἁγιαζόντων τὰ χείλη, εἶτα τοὺς ἀκροατὰς διὰ τοῦ λόγου, εἰδότων τε καὶ κηρυσσόντων ὡς διὰ τῶν σεπτῶν εἰκόνων ὁμοίως ἁγιάζεται μὲν τὰ ὄμματα τῶν ὁρώντων, ἀνάγεται δὲ δι’ αὐτῶν ὁ νοῦς πρὸς θεογνωσίαν, ὥσπερ καὶ διὰ τῶν θείων ναῶν καὶ τῶν ἱερῶν σκευῶν καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ἁγίων κειμηλίων, αἰωνία ἡ μνήμη. Of those who make holy their lips through the word and the hearers by means of the word, and of those who know and preach that in the same manner the eyes of those who look at the icons are made holy by means of the august images and that the mind is uplifted toward the knowledge of God, as it happens by means of the divine temples, of the blessed apparels and of all the holy treasures: may the memory of them all last for ever.56 According to the words of the Synodikon, the beholder’s gaze maintains its significance as a point of entrance of the whole process. Nevertheless, the focus is on the noetic and intellectual aspects rather than on the emotional process itself. Such and other statements, I argue, may have influenced Agathias’ modern translators. And yet the poet regards the onlooker’s emotional (or even irrational) 52 53 54 55

56

See for instance J  D, Expositio Fidei 31, vol. II 83; Imagines III 59, 3–12; vol. III, 169; T S, Ep. 380, 163–198. See for instance XIII 361B3 M. See M XIII 249D7–E8 and compare, for instance, The Life of Euthymius of Sardis 37, p. 75, 789. See J. G. Le Synodikon de l’orthodoxie, édition et commentaire. Travaux et Mémoires 2 (1967), 119–168; B, Contesting the Logic of Painting. Art and Understanding in EleventhCentury Byzantium, see n. 30, 1–22. Synodikon 49, 72–75 ed. G. In his commentary, G explains that θεογνωσία has to be interpreted as “catechesis”. He also acknowledges that such a statement might be problematic, if one considers that contemplation is very often described as “imageless” (G, Le Synodikon de l’orthodoxie, édition et commentaire, see n. 55, 180).

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involvement as a crucial issue, as testified once more by his choice of words. In line 4 we come across the verb ἀπιθύνω, a rarer form of the more common ἀπευθύνω. The verb occurs in Plato’s Critias (109c2), within a nautical metaphor, as referred to the soul. By exerting a sort of psychological persuasion, the gods stir the human beings, as shepherds do with flocks. In later texts, mainly stoic, ἀπευθύνω is found again in contexts related to basic instincts and urges. A case in point is provided by Marcus Aurelius, who in his Meditations writes the following (VIII 7, 1):

᾿Αρκεῖται πᾶσα φύσις ἑαυτῇ εὐοδούσῃ, φύσις δὲ λογικὴ εὐοδεῖ ἐν μὲν φαντασίαις μήτε ψευδεῖ μήτε ἀδήλῳ συγκατατιθεμένη, τὰς ὁρμὰς δὲ ἐπὶ τὰ κοινωνικὰ ἔργα μόνα ἀπευθύνουσα, τὰς ὀρέξεις δὲ καὶ τὰς ἐκκλίσεις τῶν ἐφ’ ἡμῖν μόνων περιποιουμένη, τὸ δὲ ὑπὸ τῆς κοινῆς φύσεως ἀπονεμόμενον πᾶν ἀσπαζομένη. Every nature is contented with itself when it goes on its way well; and a rational nature goes on its way well, when in its mental images it assents to nothing false or uncertain, and when it directs its movements to social acts only, and when it confines its desires and aversions to the things which are in its power, and when it is satisfied with everything that is assigned to it by the common nature. Agathias adopts the same Platonic/Stoicizing vocabulary,57 reworking and adapting it to his own purposes. Therefore, θυμός cannot possibly be a simple synonym for soul or mind; it is rather close to Marcus Aurelius’ ὁρμαί. Within the framework of a dualistic psychology, ὁρμή, the impulse leading to action, is usually connected to the irrational part of the soul. More specifically, starting from the imperial period (ca I century CE), an overlapping can be traced between ὁρμητικόν and θυμός, intended as the passionate part of the soul.58 Furthermore, in early Byzantine times, the ὁρμητική part of the soul was seen as closely connected with visual imagination, as testified by Maximos Homologetes, few decades after Agathias.59 What is Agathias’ φαντασία, though? Again, M’s translation is somewhat problematic. M interprets φαντασία as the intellectual vision at the end of 57

58 59

On ὁρμή between Stoicism and Platonism see M. B. Eudorus’ Psychology and Stoic Ethics. In: Platonic Stoicism, Stoic Platonism: the dialogue between Platonism and Stoicism in Antiquity. Ed. by M. B and C. E. Leuven, 2007, 109–132, 110–114. See B, see n. 57, 125–126. M H, Capita Caritatis III 32 (PG 90, 1028A). Cf. already Aristotle, De anima 433b27–30; De motu animalium 702a5–21.

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the process: the soul is led toward a better representation.60 However, ἀπευθύνω can hardly be construed with a dative indicating a movement toward a given destination. On the contrary, it can be easily construed with an instrumental dative. MC is aware of the problem and cautiously suggests in his translation “to (or ‘with’) a clearer mental image”.61 The syntax of the sentence makes actually much more sense by reading φαντασίῃ as the agency reshaping (or more literally: “adjusting”, or even “restoring”) the beholder’s θυμός. If so, φαντασία has to be the faculty of the soul (a psychological power) and not one of its products (a mental image).62 The onlooker is thus caught in a transformative process that remolds his attitude. His passionate part (θυμός) turns from earthbound passions to spiritual love. Admittedly, as a faculty, φαντασία may also be deceptive,63 and yet, through the icon, the beholder gets a sort of upgrade. Agathias uses a term that is crucial to Graeco-Roman art criticism64 and consciously exploits its multilayered philosophical meaning. In so doing he echoes contemporary discourses on art and 60

61 62

63

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P, see n. 12, 21; M, see n. 2, 115; C, The Wall-Painting of St. Michael in the Theater, see n. 2, 121; C, The Eyes of the Mother of God, see n. 2, 170): “to a higher contemplation”; W, see n. 12, 25: “vers des pensées plus élevés”; V, see n. 10, 171: “a superiori pensieri”; B, see n. 12, 143: “zu höherem Flug”. MC, The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus, see n. 10, 242 n. Visual imagination, as a power of the soul, is a notion first conceptualized by Aristotle in De anima III 3, esp. 427b14–429a9 and then developed by the Stoics and Neoplatonists. The literature on φαντασία in the De anima and in later sources is now legion. I will confine myself to mention W, see n. 16, for a general survey; R. L. La crise de la Phantasia: originalité des interpretations, originalité d’Aristote. In: De la phantasia à l’imagination. Ed. by D. L and L. R. Louvain-Namur-Paris-Dudley, 2003, 32–46, for a summary of the debate on Aristotle’s “imagination”; N. O’G. Aristotle’s ‘Phantasia’ in the “Rhetoric”: ‘Lexis’, Appearance, and the Epideictic Function of Discourse. Philosophy and Rhetoric 38 (2005), 16–40, as to φαντασία in literary production. See also X. R. Percezione, phantasia, mim¯esis in Aristotele. L’inganno dei sensi. I Quaderni del ramo d’oro on-line 2 (2009), 18–35; G. F. Phantasia: tra Aristotele e i Peripatetici. In: Immaginario e immaginazione nel Medioevo. Ed. by M. B, F. D. P, and R. F. Turnhout, 2009, 147–161; P, Ex epiboules phantazesthai. Dal divino inganno di Timeo alla phantasia plotiniana, see n. 16, 133, n. 34 (all of them with further bibliography). See also the relevant bibliography mentioned in n. 16. The deceptive character of visual imagination was never questioned by the ascetic tradition. Evagrios is a champion of this approach. See K. C. Evagrius and Gregory. Mind, Soul and Body in the 4th Century. Burlington, 2009, 94–95. Cf. also G. K. Die Gottgebührenden Phantasien und die Gottesschau bei Photios. In: Intellect and Imagination in Medieval Philosophy. Ed. by M. C. P and J. F. M. Vol. 1. Turnhout, 2001, 473–482; A. L. The Appeal to the Cappadocian Fathers and Dionysios the Areopagite in the Iconoclast Controversy. In: Gregory of Nazianzus: Images and Reflections. Ed. by J. B and T. H. Copenhagen, 2006, 271–296. See J. J. P. The Ancient View of Greek Art. Criticism, History and Terminology. New Haven and London, 1974, 52–55; 293–297; B. H. F. The Hellenistic Aesthetic. Madison, 1989, 168–186.

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representation. Evidence supporting such an interpretation can be found, again, in Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites. In what follows I will show how Agathias’ description is in tune not only with the ps. Dionysian writings but also with the exegesis offered in the sixth century by Ps.-Dionysios’ pro-Chalcedonian interpreters. A better imagination In a large section of the Divine Names Ps.-Dionysios deals with a vexed and old question: “What is the nature of evil?”.65 Denying, among other things, that matter and evil coincide,66 Ps.-Dionysios describes evil as lack of power, weakness and inability to recognize and desire the Good.67 In carrying out his argument, Ps.-Dionysios refutes an array of theories regarding the nature of evil. At some point he tackles the hypothesis that demons may be evil in their very nature. Ps.Dionysios makes the point that, being integral to the living creatures, the main features characterizing the demons cannot be labeled as evil per se: ῎Αλλως τε τί τὸ ἐν δαίμοσι κακόν; Θυμὸς ἄλογος, ἄνους ἐπιθυμία, φαντασία προπετής. ᾿Αλλὰ ταῦτα, εἰ καὶ ἔστιν ἐν δαίμοσιν, οὐ πάντη οὐδὲ ἐπὶ πάντων οὐδὲ αὐτὰ καθ’ αὑτὰ κακά. Καὶ γὰρ ἐφ’ ἑτέρων ζῴων οὐχ ἡ σχέσις τούτων, ἀλλ’ ἡ ἀναίρεσίς ἐστι καὶ φθορὰ τῷ ζῴῳ καὶ κακόν. ῾Η δὲ σχέσις σώζει καὶ εἶναι ποιεῖ τὴν ταῦτα ἔχουσαν τοῦ ζῴου φύσιν. Otherwise, what is evil in demons? An irrational passion, a nonintellectual desire, or hasty mental image? But none of these even if they are evil in demons, are wholly evil, or evil with respect to all beings, or evil in themselves. For with respect to animals it is not the possession of these but their removal that is a destruction and an evil to the animal having them.68

65

66 67 68

P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 18–35. Ps.-Dionysios borrows most of his arguments from Proklos’ treatise On the existence of evil, survived only in the latin translation of William of Moerbeke. Ps.-Dionysios’ conclusions, however, are partly different from those drawn by Proklos. While accepting the notion of evil as parhypostasis, i.e. accidental to beings, Ps.-Dionysios rather frames evil as a sort of insufficiency, as an inability of participating into the Good (see S. K. W and J. M. D. Dionysius the Areopagite and the Neoplatonist Tradition: Despoiling the Hellenes. Aldershot-Burlington, 2007, 75–84 with previous bibliography). P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 27–28, 173, 17–174, 7 IV 27 is devoted to the bodies. P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 35, 179, 11–13. P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 23, 171, 17–21.

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Passion, desire and imagination are an essential part of the embodied life. They are vital. Living creatures cannot do without, lest they be destroyed. Passion, desire and imagination are neutral psychological faculties and may be used for different purposes, more or less virtuous. They may even be transformed. Accordingly, natural tendencies are not to be disregarded per se, or, worse, obliterated altogether. What the icon does is precisely to turn embodied φαντασία into a way of reaching noetic knowledge. Under this respect, Agathias’ views on imagination seem to be very close to the interpretation of the Divine Names provided by John of Scythopolis around the same period.69 When commenting on the above quoted passage, John states the following: ῾Ο θυμὸς ὁ ἄλογος καθ’ ἑαυτὸν καὶ ἡ ἄνους ἐπιθυμία καθ’ ἑαυτὴν καὶ ἡ προπετὴς φαντασία οὐ πάντως καὶ ἐπὶ πάντων κακὸν καθ’ ἑαυτὰ σκοπούμενα, ἀλλ’ ἔσθ’ ὅτε καὶ ἡ ἀναίρεσις αὐτῶν λυμαίνεται τῷ ταῦτα ἔχοντι ζώῳ, ὥς φησι τελείως ἐν τῷ ζ’ κεφαλαίῳ τοῦ προβλήματος τούτου. Καλῶς δὲ ἐν ταῖς σχέσεσι ταύταις τὰ διαβάλλοντα τέθεκειν, ἐπεί ἔστι καὶ θυμὸς μετὰ λόγου, ὡς ὁ κατὰ τῆς ἀμαρτίας καὶ τῶν ἐχθρῶν τοῦ θεοῦ, καὶ ἐπιθυμία ἔννους, ὡς τὸ ἐπιθυμεῖν τοῦ βελτίονος καὶ το· ἐπιθυμίᾳ ἐπεθύμησα φαγεῖν τὸ πάσχα τοῦτο μεθ’ ὑμῶν. οὕτως ἔστι καὶ φαντασία οὐ προπετής, καθ’ ἣν ἐφαπτόμεθα τῶν νοητῶν τῷ νῷ ἡμῶν τοῦτο ποιοῦντες. Passion, which is in itself irrational, as well as desire, which is unreasonable and imagination which is hasty [in assenting], all these faculties, considered in themselves, are not completely evil in every way. They are evil just when their annihilation pollutes the living being they belong to, as he says most aptly in the sixth chapter of the present question. It is appropriate to adjust the misleading characters of these dispositions, given that even impulse is rational, as it happens when it is directed against sin and against the enemies of god, and desire is reasonable, as it happens when one desires the good and in the sentence “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you” (Lk. 22, 14). Accordingly the kind of imagination through which we grasp the intelligibles – and we do that wit our mind – is not hasty.70 On the basis of Divine Names I 25 (173, 1–9), John goes as far as to argue that passion, desire and imagination are not evil in themselves, or evil under any respect; on 69 70

On John, bishop of Scythopolis (today’s Beit She’an in Israel) and active as a pro-Chalcedonian in the first half of the sixth century see R and L, see n. 31, 23–45. J  S, In librum De Divinis Nominibus 32–45, 292C (DN 171, 17 f.), p. 289 ed. S.

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the contrary their withdrawal (ἀναίρεσις) spoils (λυμαίνεται) the living being to which they belong. Any annihilation of the natural tendencies, activities and powers turns out to be actually evil. In Divine Names VII 3 (198, 5–6) Ps.-Dionysios affirms that sensation, touch and imagination also belong to God, even though He cannot be grasped through them. Interestingly enough, such statement immediately follows a paragraph devoted to the usefulness of εἴκονες and ὁμοιώματα to elevate the mind.71 In his comment, John shows how and in which circumstances φαντασία can be converted into a virtuous faculty. Imagination ceases being slippery when it develops into a way of attaining the intelligibles through the mind. This is precisely the “better” φαντασία mentioned by Agathias: a power enhancing intellectual knowledge, instead of bringing about a hasty and uncontrolled assent. Imagination in itself conveys just a mental image of objects ingrained in the sensible world. But when such a power is enhanced, it becomes a quintessentially intellectual tool. This praise of imagination’s gnoseological power is in fact fully consistent with John’s pro-Calcedonian and anti-monophysite stances. P has shown that monophysite supporters between the fifth and sixth century discarded angelic images as misleading and deceptive. They were deemed incompatible with the absolute transcendence of spiritual beings.72 P in particular draws attention to Severos of Antioch.73 In his Homilies Severos preaches against the most common iconography of the archangels Michael and Gabriel, delivering at the same time a disparaging attack against imagination.74 In fact, Severos proves to be very critical about φαντασία in general. His attacks are not confined to angelic representations. Knowledge through images is usually disapproved of. In Homily 52, on the Holy Maccabean Martyrs, for instance, Severos states that his subject surpasses imagination: a writer or a painter might perhaps be able to 71

72 73

74

The appearances of the real world are defined as ὁμοιώματα as early as O, In Exodum Homilia VIII 3, vol. VI 29, 221–222 (the definition will be later on exploited by the iconophiles: cf. also V. A. B. Origen and the Iconoclastic Controversy. In: Origeniana octava. Origen and the Alexandrian Tradition. Ed. by L. P, P. B, and D. M. Vol. 2. Leuven, 2003, 1043–1052, 1051). P, Subtle Bodies: Representing Angels in Byzantium, see n. 1, 76–81. P largely rests on MC, The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus, see n. 10, 243–245. On Severos see R and L, see n. 31, 11–15; R. R. L’éxégèse biblique dans les Homélies Cathédrales de Sévère d’Antioche. Roma, 2002, 7–19; P. A and R. H. Severus of Antioch. New York, 2004; A, see n. 31, 104–109; F. A. La route royale. Sévère d’Antioche et les églises d’orient. Beyrouth, 2009, 37–56. Homily 72 (On the deposition of Prokopios and Phokas in the Church of St. Michael), PO 12, 1, pp. 71–89 (Severos attacks the painters in p. 83, 14–84, 5; similar statements against the pictorial representation of the angel assisting Christ during the crucifixion in Homily 64, PO 8, 1, p. 320, 4–8). Severos’ homilies survive only in a Syriac version thanks to the translation of Paul of Callinicum and Jacob of Edessa. See A and H, see n. 73, 49–54.

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reproduce it, eliciting admiration and wonder in hearers and viewers. However, no verbal or visual description – both of them are necessarily based on imagination – could properly glorify the deeds of the martyrs75 . Amazement does not mean spiritual elevation, as Severos stresses again in Homily 74, on Acts 3: 1–2.76 A similar thought can be traced in Homily 67, on the Holy Virgin. To approach Mary, Severos argues, one has to resort to θεωρία alone, leaving aside the embodied and mortal φαντασία.77 Granted, Severos resorts to symbols (τύποι) to illustrate the ineffable mystery of Christ’s incarnation in Mary’s womb. However, he has to admit that, in spite of the intellectual light stemming from such biblical symbols (the arche and the golden vessel containing the true manna), they remain shadowy and basically inappropriate fully to represent the truth.78 In general, images are suitable just to teach an audience that, like children, need to be scared in order to be led toward the true faith. Images elicit base passions and base passions are to be used just as a last resort.79 Severos is very circumspect toward the affecting power of visuality. Images dangerously permeate the souls of the beholders. That is why he often preaches against the custom of attending theatrical plays. The viewers, he argues, filled with images and imaginations (φαντασίαι) of lascivious passions, are at risk of taking them into the afterlife, thus becoming prey of demons, which love such kind of representations.80 Severos’ stance fully contrasts with the praise of a “better imagination” expressed by John of Scythopolis. Such an opposition comes as no surprise. John, one generation the junior of Agathias, publicly opposed Severos, writing a refutation against his doctrines, while the scholia to the Divine Names are probably to be dated a few years before Severos’ death.81 The Monophysites and Severos, in turn had also tried to ‘appropriate’ Ps.-Dionysian writings.82 John’s commentary is thus a response to the attempt to use the Ps.-Dionysian corpus in order to back monophysite doctrines. That is why John, by relying on Ps.-Dionysios, endorses, among other things, the gnoseological power of imagination, discarded by his opponent. Agathias’ epigram has to be read against the same background. It is a reaction to contemporary monophysite criticism about visual imagination. All in all, the 75 76 77 78 79

80 81 82

S, PO 4, 1, pp. 7, 5–8, 4; 9, 1–7. S, PO 12, 1, pp. 102, 10–103, 9. S, PO 8, 1, p. 350, 3–6. S, PO 8, 1, pp. 359, 4–9; 360, 1–8. S, Homily 62 (On pieces of glasses coming from Palestine and lumps of coals thrown up by possessed and shown in the Antiochean Church), PO 8, 1, pp. 279, 16–280, 7; 280, 11–12; 282, 5–8. S, Homily 76 (On the poor men and strangers buried in a mass grave), PO 12, 1, pp. 142, 7–143, 13 (cf. Homily 54, against those who attend the spectacles, PO 4, 1, p. 56, 11–18). R and L, see n. 31, 33–39. Cf. R and L, see n. 31, 15–18.

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debate on angelic images was a subset of this major theme. Such an interpretation squares well with the religious policies of Justin II at the time when Agathias’ Cycle and the epigram dedicated to the Archangel Michael were presumably published.83 As shown by C, Justin II tried to present himself as a champion of the Chalcedonian orthodoxy since the beginning of his reign. His target, in particular, were the followers of Jacob Baradaeus (Jacobites), controlling the oriental antiChalcedonian church after the death of Severos. Agathias’ praise of the holy icons could perhaps be read as an indirect statement in favour of Justin’s official policies on Christological matters. Be that as it may, Agathias’ response appears to be fully in tune with John of Scythopolis’ views. A further look at his readings of Ps.Dionysios the Areopagite can therefore help us gain more cues on the mode of knowledge described in AP I 34. A spiral-shaped movement? The cognitive process prompted by visual imagination is described in full length in the fourth book of the Divine Names. In Divine Names IV 9 (153, 10–154, 6) Ps.-Dionysios enlarges upon three different kinds of movements characterizing the soul.84 First, when it is concentrated on itself, ignoring the external world and following its intellectual powers, the soul moves in a circle. This is the most perfect movement, a fixed revolution bringing the soul to unite with the Good and the Beautiful. When, on the other hand, the soul is not endowed with perfect identity, enlightenment ensues from the operations of discursive reason. The soul then moves in a spiral fashion. Finally, when the soul resorts to external and diverse symbols to be lifted toward the perfect contemplation, the movement is simply linear: Τὴν κατ’ εὐθεῖαν δέ, ὅταν οὐκ εἰς ἑαυτὴν εἰσιοῦσα καὶ ἑνικῇ νοερότητι κινουμένη, τοῦτο γάρ, ὡς ἔφην, ἐστὶ τὸ κατὰ κύκλον, ἀλλὰ πρὸς τὰ περὶ ἑαυτὴν προϊοῦσα καὶ ἀπὸ τῶν ἔξωθεν ὥσπερ ἀπό τινων συμβόλων πεποικιλμένων καὶ πεπληθυσμένων ἐπὶ τὰς ἁπλᾶς καὶ ἡνωμένας ἀνάγεται θεωρίας. And its movement is in a straight line when, instead of entering in itself and moving upon its own intelligent unity – this is, as we said, the circular movement - it proceeds to the things around it, and is 83 84

Cf. MC, The Erotic and Ascetic Poetry of Agathias Scholasticus, see n. 10, 207, with further bibliography (in particular C and C, see n. 101966). The same design can be traced in P, In Timaeum III, 18–21, 77–80. Cf. C. C. P. Beauty in Pseudo-Denis. Washington DC, 1960, 33; 38–39.

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uplifted from the external things, as from diverse and various symbols, to the simple and united contemplations.85 Needless to say, imagination is involved in processing such symbols. A few paragraphs before the quoted passage, Ps.-Dionysios describes more closely the way in which the soul turns from the external objects to the unifying light. After emphasizing the role of desire, he explains how the intelligible light “revitalizes” the powers of the mind: Καὶ γὰρ ὥσπερ ἡ ἄγνοια διαιρετικὴ τῶν πεπλανημένων ἐστίν, οὕτως ἡ τοῦ νοητοῦ φωτὸς παρουσία συναγωγὸς καὶ ἑνωτικὴ τῶν φωτιζομένων ἐστὶ καὶ τελειωτικὴ καὶ ἔτι ἐπιστρεπτικὴ πρὸς τὸ ὄντως ὂν ἀπὸ τῶν πολλῶν δοξασμάτων ἐπιστρέφουσα καὶ τὰς ποικίλας ὄψεις ἤ, κυριώτερον εἰπεῖν, φαντασίας εἰς μίαν ἀληθῆ καὶ καθαρὰν καὶ μονοειδῆ συνάγουσα γνῶσιν καὶ ἑνὸς καὶ ἑνωτικοῦ φωτὸς ἐμπιπλῶσα. For just as ignorance disperses those in error, so the presence of the intellectual light gathers and unites together the enlightened, perfects them, brings them back to the essential being, bringing them back from the many opinions, and drawing together the diverse visions, or to say it better, the mental images into a single and true and pure and simple knowledge and filling them with the one unifying light.86 So, going back to AP I 34, Agathias too seems to describe a movement which is first linear and then takes the soul back from diversity and distraction to itself (see v. 4: οὐκέτι δ’ ἀλλοπρόσαλλον ἔχει σέβας, ἀλλ’ ἐν ἑαυτῷ). It is a movement leading from external contemplation to inner vision, first linear and then centripetal. The verb ὀτρύνω conveys the idea of linearity, whereas βαθὺς νόος describes the intensity and depth of inner contemplation.87 The paradoxical nature of the icon surfaces yet again: however man-made, shaped through wood and colors, it can uplift the soul, bringing it from multiplicity to unity. Moreover it gives shape to an image that the human mind can not know out of direct experience. Even though the beholder relies on sense perception to figure out the angel’s outline, it is clear that its essence lies beyond the senses. Once more, it is interesting to read what 85 86 87

P.-D A, On the Divine Names IV 9, 154, 2–6. P.-D A, On the Divine Names, IV 6, 150, 8–14. Cf. again the Acts of Nicaea II: XIII 297A6–7 M. The passage is devoted to the refutation of one of the statements of the council of Hiereia (754). Iconoclasts argued that colours were a source of distraction and could not be reconciled with the veneration ἐν τῶ βάθει τοῦ νοός (see U, see n. 51, 252–254).

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John of Scythopolis has to say regarding mental images as mentioned in Divine Names IV 6 (150, 12). His comment runs as follows: Φαντασίας φησὶ τὰς πλασματώδεις ἐννοίας περὶ τὰ αἰσθητὰ ἢ ὡς αἰσθητά.88 He calls visual representations fictitious thoughts regarding sensible objects or [shaped] as if they were sensible objects. Πλασματώδεις reminds us of ἀπεπλάσατο featuring in the second verse of Agathias’ epigram, where the wax is said to be molded according to the shape of the invisible. Yet, in John’s words, “fictitious thoughts” are limited to sensible objects: either they are based on such objects, actually existing (περὶ τὰ αἰσθητὰ) or they are shaped accordingly, as if they were sensible objects (ὡς αἰσθητά). John echoes Aristotle’s De anima, where it is said that “to the thinking soul images serve as if they were contents of perception” (τῇ δὲ διανοητικῇ ψυχῇ τὰ φαντάσματα οἷον αἰσθήματα ὑπάρχει).89 On the one hand, imagination always needs sense perception in order to work effectively.90 On the other, the soul in itself is not capable of sensations and mental images of the perceived objects persist even when and if the object itself is not available anymore.91 That is why pictorial images are essential to the thinking process. Furthermore imagination can also combine the information provided by the senses in order to create (πλάττειν) new beings. Aristotle does not enlarge much on this possibility, confining himself to explore the causes of the fallacies that may affect mental images.92 Already his first followers, however, were quite explicit in stating that what is conceivable does not necessarily need to exist.93 Later on, imagination is overtly connected with fictional thought.94 The fictional character is in fact already implicit in the verb πλάττειν itself. Therefore, I argue that ὡς αἰσθητά suggests both the non-sensorial quality of mental images and the existence of a kind of thoughts, however resting on sense perception, are nevertheless non-referential. In other words, we deal here with thoughts representative of non-actual realities. John firmly links together imagination and visuality. 88 89 90 91 92 93

94

J  S, In librum De Divinis Nominibus 21–22, 252B, p. 229, 1–2 ed. S. A, De anima 431a14–15. Cf. R. D. H, ed. Aristotle: De anima: Translation, introduction and notes. Amsterdam, 1965, 529–530. A, De anima 428b10–17 (cf. H, see n. 89, 467–468). A, De anima 429a4–8; De motu animalium 701b16–24. Cf. A, De anima, 428a11–18, 428b18–30 with H (1965) 463–464; 469–474. E, Fr. 70. Cf. D. K. W. M. Phantasia, Thought and Science in Eudemus. In: Eudemus of Rhodes. Ed. by M. I. B and W. W. F. New Brunswick, 2002, 191–216. The Neoplatonists are especially aware of the elusive character of imagination. Cf. W, see n. 16, 96–134.

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It is also clear that whatever is not included in the category ὄντως ὄν is not really existent, be it opinion or mental image. That is why John applies πλασματώδης, an adjective associated with the idea of ‘fiction’ to mental images in general. This kind of φαντασίαι are also the primary product of imagination, when it has not yet reached its ‘enhanced state’. John seems to be quite familiar with ancient philosophical tradition. In particular, he shares the same terminology used by late Neoplatonic philosophers to single out their notions of imagination. I think here mainly of Proklos, who devotes many lines of his exegetical work to clarify the role of φαντασία in the soul’s embodied life.95 Among other things, Proklos provides a distinction between two kinds of ὄρεξις (the one turned toward the Being the other one turned towards the sensible world) that is very similar to John’s statement regarding the different degrees of passion, imagination and desire.96 Such pagan-christian overlappings are far from surprising. On the contrary, they are crucial to understand both Agathias’ background and innovations. Moreover, a close analysis of these cultural intersections will help steer clear of some misunderstandings about Agathias’ alleged nostalgic pagan positions.97 For these reasons, I will now look at the interpretation of the imaginative intellect as provided by Proklos in his commentary to the Republic. From fiction to icons In the introduction of the sixteenth dissertation on the Republic (II 96, 1–109, 2), Proklos explains the general meaning of the myth of Er, for the benefit of his pupil Marinus. Like Makrobios and Porphyrios before him, Proklos feels the need to refute the objections of the Epicurean Kolothes as regards the use of mythical paradigms. After summarising Porphyry’s stance, Proklos presents his original point of view. Following to embodiment, he argues, our immaterial and purely rational souls have to put on (ἐνδυσαμέναις) an “imaginative intellect”.98 From impassible they become passible, moving from perfect, imageless thought to mental representations. Embodied souls, therefore, need mythological tales and examples in order 95

96 97

98

For an exhaustive bibliography on Proklos’ treatment of imagination see V. N. Phantasìa e nulla assoluto in Damascio. Prospettive di lettura. In: Contrarietas: saggi sui saperi medievali. Ed. by A. M. Palermo, 2002, 71–99, 84, n. 38. Cf. P, In Rempublicam I 235, 1–22. Cf. A. K. The Historical and Religious Views of Agathias: A Reinterpretation. Byzantion 69 (1999), 206–252, 206–252; A. K. Things Are Not What They Are: Agathias Mythistoricus and the Last Laugh of Classical Culture. The Classical Quarterly 53 (2003), 295– 300. Cf. E. A. M. Les structures de l’imaginaire dans la philosophie de Proclus. Paris, 1985, 216–230.

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to be taught in a way suitable to their new condition. In order to work out their knowledge, they need images, shapes, tangible forms.99 Of course such images have to be pure and uncorrupted. Put another way, they have to bear a likeness to the intellectual truth hidden behind the myths themselves.100 Proklos singles out three different stages in the process of knowledge, according to the souls’ different qualities: Ταύταις δ’ οὖν, ὡς εἴπομεν, γενομέναις ἀπαθέσι παθητικαῖς, ἀμορφώτοις μορφωτικαῖς, πρέπων ἐστὶν τρόπος διδασκαλίας εἰκότως ὁ διὰ τῶν τοιῶνδε μύθων· οἷς πολὺ μέν ἐστιν ἔνδον τὸ νοερὸν τῆς ἀληθείας φέγγος, προβέβληται δὲ τὸ πλασματῶδες, ἀποκρύπτον ἐκεῖνο κατὰ μίμησιν τῆς ἐν ἡμῖν φαντασίας ἐπιλυγαζούσης τὸν μερικὸν νοῦν. τὸ μὲν γὰρ μυθῶδες πᾶν ὅσον πέπλασται μόνον τοῖς κατὰ μόνην τὴν φαντασίαν ζῶσίν ἐστιν οἰκεῖον καὶ ὧν ἐστιν τὸ ὅλον ὁ παθητικὸς νοῦς, τὸ δὲ φανὸν τῆς ἐπιστήμης καὶ αὐτοφανὲς τῆς νοερᾶς γνώσεως τοῖς ἱδρύσασιν ἐν νοήσεσιν καθαραῖς τὴν ἑαυτῶν ὅλην ἐνέργειαν· τὸ δὲ αὖ κατὰ μὲν τὸ ἔξω πλασματῶδες, κατὰ δὲ τὸ ἔσω νοερὸν ἡμῖν δήπου λείπεται σύζυγον εἶναι τοῖς τὸ συναμφότερον οὖσιν καὶ διττὸν ἔχουσι νοῦν, τὸν μὲν ὃν ἐσμέν, τὸν δὲ ὃν ἐνδυσάμενοι προβεβλήμεθα The suitable way of teaching those souls that from impassible turned into passible and that from being shapeless came to know through shapes,101 is naturally the one based on myths; although they mostly possess in themselves the intellectual light of truth, those soul project outside fictitious appearances, hiding that light, by imitating our imagination, which overshadows the individual intellect. On the one hand, fictional myths of any sort are suitable for those who live solely according to imagination and are endowed just with the passive intellect, whereas, on the other hand, the brightness of science and the selfrevealing power of intellectual knowledge are suitable for those whose activities are all rooted in pure intellections; what is externally fictional and internally intellectual is left to us as a tool suitable for those who 99 P, In Rempublicam II 107, 21–26. 100 P, In Rempublicam II 108, 11–17. 101 On the problems linked to the translation of the couple ἀμορφώτοις/μορφωτικαῖς see A. J.

F. Proclus: Commentaire sur la République. Vol. II. Paris, 1970, 50, n. 2. It shall be remembered that, in the embodied individual, knowledge cannot forgo imagination, corresponding to a “irrational copy” of νόησις (I 235, 12–14). What is more, imagination is conceptualized by Proklos as a “shape-providing intellection, aiming at the knowledge of certain intellectual objects” (I 235, 18–19: καὶ ἡ μὲν φαντασία νόησις οὖσα μορφωτικὴ νοητῶν ἐθέλει γνῶσις εἶναί τινων)

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are in both conditions and who own a double intellect, the one that corresponds to our true nature and the one that we put on, projecting it outside of ourselves.102 These three stages bear a strong resemblance with the three types of soulmovements as described by Ps.-Dionysios.103 The spiral-shaped movement is compatible with the souls holding both the imaginative (exterior) and the proper (interior) intellect. The linear movement corresponds to the knowledge according to the imaginative intellect alone, whereas the circular one matches a purely intellectual knowledge. Symbols (in Ps.-Dionysios) and myths (in Proklos) have both the power to elevate the embodied soul through a viable form of knowledge. In both cases imagination provides the starting point of the cognitive process. Such entanglement with myths fully accounts for the reasons why some Christians came to discard visual thinking, framing it as a path toward idolatry and paganism. So, if we look again at Agathias, sacred art seems to fulfill the same function as myths within the neoplatonic conceptual framework. Such a coincidence is more apparent than real, though. For one thing, the icons, even if πλασματώδεις, qua men-made through wood, wax and colors, can not be viewed as non-referential. While acknowledging the propaedeutic and symbolic function of mythical tales, Proklos does not consider them as related to any factual truth. On the contrary, the icons refer to an actual reality, though not reachable through sense-perception, given its distance either chronological or ontological.104 That is why the form of wisdom transmitted by the icons, although it is based on imagination, goes beyond the limits of the “linear mode of knowledge”. It also exceeds the limits of mental images conceived by the embodied mind, as described by John of Scythopolis while commenting on Divine Names IV 6. The image painted on the archangel’s icon is certainly not αἰσθητόν. However, although ὡς αἰσθητόν, it can not be fictional either. What is more, according to Proklos, myths, precisely because of their ‘fantastic nature’, are dangerously close to mimetic poetry. He therefore stresses that the 102 P, In Rempublicam II 107, 22–108, 7. 103 Cf. footnotes 86 and 87 on p. 95 above. 104 The relationship between icons and truth is already expressed by the Canon 82 in Trullo (see

U, see n. 51, 163–171; 195–196). Cf. also the statements of Nicaea II in M XIII, 13A; 20A; 164D, 256C; J  D, Imagines III 111; cf. C, The Language of Images: The Rise of Icons and Christian Representation, see n. 9, 33–34; A. G. Images of the Divine. The Theology of Icons at the Seventh Ecumenical Council. Leiden and Boston, 2004, 76–83; C. B. Figure and Likeness: on the Limits of Representation in Byzantine Iconoclasm. Princeton, 2002, 61–81; B, Contesting the Logic of Painting. Art and Understanding in Eleventh-Century Byzantium, see n. 30, 13. The internal “eye of faith” described by the pilgrims visiting the holy places was deemed to bridge at least the chronological distance (see F, see n. 3, 106–107).

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images used in mythical tales are to be pure and uncorrupted.105 An enhanced imagination is not conceived of, unless it forgoes sense-perception altogether.106 Even if imagination mediates between sense-perception and intelligence, Proklos never describes a ‘bottom up progress’, moving from material, tangible objects.107 The role of astonishment and wonder is rather moral (puts the individual on the right track) than cognitive. Figurative, emotional poetry (and art) must be avoided by all means. In the sixth dissertation on Plato’s Republic,108 Proklos expands on this point, establishing a hierarchy that sees inspired poetry on the top, followed by didactic and then mimetic poetry. I will describe the latter resorting to S’s most clarifying words: The last of Proklos’ three types of poetry, mimetic, is subdivided into eikastic poetry which aims at accurate imitation of things as they are, and phantastic poetry which aims only at imitation of things as they appear to most people. The end of the latter is ψυχαγωγία, its efforts are directed toward the παθητικόν in the soul, and it presents only a shadow-show (σκιαγραφία), not true knowledge.109 Proklos stresses the negative effects of ψυχαγωγία, regarded (even against Plato’s original intentions)110 just as a treacherous and deceiving quality, useless to the ‘well-being’ of the soul. Moreover, being a mixture of opinions and mental images (δόξαις καὶ φαντασίαις συμμιγνυμένη), mimetic poetry is related to the embodied παθητικὸς νοῦς and to its modes of knowledge.111 Finally, Proklos does 105 P, In Rempublicam II 108, 11–15. 106 Cf. P, In Rempublicam I 121, 4–5 τὸν δὲ νοῦν ἄληπτον εἶναι ταῖς φανταστικαῖς

107

108 109 110 111

ἡμῶν καὶ μορφωτικαῖς κινήσεσιν (intelligence can not be grasped through the movements of our imagination, endowed with shapes). Cf. I 80, 26; 81, 1–5 and In Timaeum III 286, 26–28. M, see n. 98, 219–220. An exception is represented by the direct visions of the God, which, being imageless by their very nature, take a visible shape to meet men’s gnoseological weakness. Cf. M. D. P. B. Ochema, pneuma e phatasia nel neoplatonismo. Aspetti psicologici e prospettive religiose. Catania, 1998, 240 (In Rempublicam I 39, 1–40, 5). However, in this case, there is no physical object mediating the image of the gods. See also In Rempublicam II 241, 19–243, 28 where Proklos explains how Er could hear the voice of the Parcae. The final goal is to get rid of the imaginative faculty in order to know the divine in a non-figurative way. One can perceive the true voice of the gods only after hushing the senses (II 243, 24–28). Non surprisingly Proklos’ words are very close to those used by Severos to describe the visions experienced by the biblical prophets (Homily 57, PO 8, p. 279, 16–280, 12). P, In Rempublicam I 177, 7–179, 32. A. D. R. S. Studies on the 5th and 6th Essays of Proclus’ commentary on the republic. Göttingen, 1979, 187. Proklos rests on Plato’s Sophistes, 239a ff. Cf. S. H. Between Ecstasy and Truth. Oxford, 2011, 223–227. P, In Rempublicam I 179, 16–17. Cf. In Eucl. 52, 2–12 with B, see n. 107, 246–248.

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not seem to take into account the event that a ψυχαγωγία based on emotions and appealing to the παθητικὸς νοῦς may be of any cognitive value.112 Under this respect, he is fully consistent with the views on aesthetics and art perception developed by the Graeco-Roman elites. Emotional involvement was deemed for naïve and uneducated onlookers. The pepaideumenoi, on the contrary, were supposed to be in full control of their reactions when facing art, both visual and literary.113 They knew how to avoid the psychagogic trap. In fact, mimesis itself is for the simple minds. Proklos’ first kind of poetry, the inspired one, appears to be totally non-representational. It is the only one endowed with an absolute cognitive value, leading the soul to unity and enlightenment. On the contrary, amazement and wonder do not bring about a deeper understanding of the divine, they are just lures for οἱ πολλοί.114 Agathias’ difference from pagan and neoplatonic aesthetic notions surfaces now more clearly. Although the language may show some superficial similarities, the ideology is profoundly different. Agathias describes the icon – a figurative artifact available to everyone – as a cognitive ‘spring’, crediting it with the power ascribed by Proklos to inspired, non-representational poetry or to the theurgic visions reserved to the happy few. An impassable divide between pagan and Christian (iconophile) approach to visual imagination, and more in general to visual aesthetics, is thus created.115 This change relies on the strong ontological and axiological continuity between the embodied and the disembodied powers as argued for in the Ps.-Dionysian writings. Not only is the icon a symbolic agency. It represents an actual ontological reality in which the human faculties are enhanced. By trying to figure out such reality, the beholder is reconnected with the best part of himself, transforming his own cognitive movement from linear to circular, to use Ps.-Dionysios’ words. In order fully to understand this last passage we can turn one last time to the Celestial Hierarchy. At some point, Ps.-Dionysios illustrates how holy contempla112 P, In Rempublicam I 179, 25–31. Cf. A. D. R. S. Phantasia and Inspiration in

Neoplatonism. In: Studies in Plato and the Platonic Tradition. Essays presented to John Whittaker. Ed. by M. J. Aldershot, 1997, 201–210, 210. 113 Cf. B, Wait a Moment, phantasia: Ekphrastic Interference in Seneca and Epictetus, see n. 4; T, see n. 4, 246–264. 114 P, In Rempublicam II 108, 22–26. 115 It is not a coincidence that Theodoros Studites in a letter addressed to a fellow monk (499 F) discards Hypatios’ position by quoting Symmikta zetemata 127, 28–128, 7 (cf. 129, 11–14 D). Although he accepts sacred art, Hypatios draws an elitarian distinction between the less perfect faithful and more perfect ones. Images are suitable just for the former (see G, Hypatios d’Éphèse ou Du Pseudo-Denys à Théodore Studite, see n. 49; K. P. Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought of the Eighth and Ninth Centuries. Leiden, 1996, 38).

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tions can be symbolized by means of images, riddles, enigmas, metaphors alluding to material realities. He also explains how impulses and passions are to be intended in two different ways, depending on the relevant ontological level. The notion of πλάττειν plays again a significant role: ῎Εστιν οὖν ἐκ πάντων αὐτῶν ἐπινοῆσαι καλὰς θεωρίας καὶ τοῖς νοητοῖς τε καὶ νοεροῖς ἐκ τῶν ὑλαίων ἀναπλάσαι τὰς λεγομένας ἀνομοίους ὁμοιότητας [. . . ] Καὶ γὰρ ὁ θυμὸς τοῖς μὲν ἀλόγοις ἐξ ἐμπαθοῦς ὁρμῆς ἐγγίνεται καὶ πάσης ἀλογίας ἐστὶν ἀνάπλεως ἡ θυμοειδὴς αὐτῶν κίνησις, ἀλλ’ ἐπὶ τῶν νοερῶν ἑτέρῳ τρόπῳ χρὴ τὸ θυμικὸν ἐννοῆσαι, δηλοῦν ὡς οἶμαι τὴν ἀρρενωπὸν αὐτῶν λογιότητα καὶ τὴν ἀμείλικτον ἕξιν ἐν ταῖς θεοειδέσι καὶ ἀμεταβόλοις ἱδρύσεσιν. Beautiful contemplations can therefore be envisaged moving from all things, and the above-named incongruous similitudes can be fashioned from material things to symbolize that which is intelligible and intellectual [. . . ]. For instance, passion in irrational creatures arises from the impulse of appetency, and their passionate activity is full of all irrationality; but with intellectual beings the energy of passion must be regarded otherwise – I think as denoting their manly reason and unwavering state, established in the godly and changeless places.116 Although the name is identical, the essence changes, as it is the case for the “better imagination”. Θυμός is not the same thing for men and angels. Nor is it for embodied and disembodied souls. Accordingly in Agathias, the ‘materially fashioned’ icon first appeals to the irrational faculties of the embodied beholder. This is the first, necessary, step. However, since it refers to a superior ontological level, such faculties end up being ‘purified’ by contemplation and turn into their disembodied counterpart. Mimesis is not just figurative, or representational. It is psychological, as it involves the cognitive process itself. Ethereal Things To sum up, Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites envisages a continuity between the sensible and the intelligible realm, between embodied and noetic passions. Likewise, Agathias envisages aesthetic experience as part of a continuum of perception. To the extent that imagination is even able to tame the boisterous and overwhelming θυμός. Therefore yielding to φαντασία does not mean becoming prey of basic 116 P.-D A, On the Celestial Hierarchy II 4, 141C-D, 13, 24–14, 7.

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urges, but being set free from the bodily constraints. The icon, by depicting a body which is at the same time material and incorporeal, qua angelic, enhances the beholder’s gaze, without annihilating man’s organic substratum. To this end, I would like to conclude with a quotation from the second chapter of Art as Experience, significantly called “The Live Creature and ‘Ethereal Things’”. It is a text that, although written in the Twentieth century, seems to capture the essence of early Byzantine aesthetics: Oppositions of mind and body, soul and matter, spirit and flesh all have their origin, fundamentally, in fear of what life may bring forth. They are marks of contraction and withdrawal. Full recognition, therefore, of the continuity of the organs needs and basic impulses of the human creature with his animal forbears, implies no necessary reduction of man to the level of the brutes [. . . ] The existence of art is the concrete proof of what has just been stated abstractly. It is proof that man uses the materials and energies of nature with intent to expand his own life, and that he does so in accord with the structure of the organism – brain, sense organs, and muscular system [. . . ] After all, even though “spiritual” and “material” are separated and set in opposition to one another, there must be conditions through which the ideal is capable of embodiment and realization – and this is all, fundamentally, that “matter” signifies.117

117 D, see n. 6, 28–34.

Book and Image in Byzantine Christianity: Polemics or Communication? Barbara Crostini Introduction At least in some sense, the prevailing of an image culture in Byzantine Christianity can be said to reflect a theological choice in favour of Neoplatonic theurgy over and against a spiritualized, predominantly philosophical, religiosity – where ‘theurgy’ is intended to comprise the whole gamut of material trappings and rituals through which the relationship between the worldly and the divine sphere is established and cultivated. While icons, relics and liturgical instruments provide the main point of reference for this theurgic mediation, presenting specific issues appropriate to each and dominating the debates regarding the legitimacy of iconography, illustrations in books are not often discussed in this context. In this paper, I would like to argue that book illumination has at least an equally important role in supporting a case for the continued existence and use of iconography in Christianity.∗ For, beginning with venerable biblical pandects such as the codex Sinaiticus and the codex Vaticanus,1 Greek manuscripts could have been the un-iconic ‘icon’ of Christianity par excellence. On the contrary, images crept into sacred books at an early stage, and there remained, and flourished, and grew, reaching a climax of sophistication and intensity in the Middle Byzantine Period. Why did the Christian book go so forcefully, so forthrightly, so thoroughly towards being an illustrated book? What ideas about imagery, and more specifically about the function of imagery in books, based in turn upon the function of sacred books, stimulated and supported the multiplication of art in them? In an innovative and provocative article on the beginnings of biblical illustration, L remarks that “Christianity was established and developed as a religion of the book, or rather of many books. But by the early seventh century it had been transformed to a remarkable extent into a religion of the image, or rather many images.”2 L supports a view that has gathered momentum in the ∗

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I would like here to thank the organizers of the ‘Byzantine Aesthetics and Theurgy’ Round Table at the XXII International Byzantine Congress at Sofia, August 2011, for having accepted my paper and guided the session and ensuing discussion most efficiently and productively. M. H. The Septuagint as Christian Scripture. Its Prehistory and the Problem of its Canon. Edinburgh and New York, 2002, with all essential bibliographical resources. For the Sinaiticus, cf. the web-based edition http://www.british–library.uk/onlinegallery/sacredtexts/codexsinai.html. J. L. The Beginnings of Biblical Illustration. In: Imaging the Early Medieval Bible. Ed. by J. W. University Park, PA, 1999, 10–59, 10.

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post-Weitzmann era, namely, that we have no reason to extrapolate a much wider circulation of early Christian illustrated books from the scanty extant evidence.3 L’s enquiry consists in asking why imagery got into books in the first place, which is not our primary concern here, though of course one could re-examine that arguably more basic and more important question in view of the issues raised by later developments. According to L, a process of natural osmosis between the images that appeared in monumental art, and that had become ‘familiar’ to the Christian believer, and the images found in books occurred, so that the latter were introduced into books as already part of the religious experience of the faithful, who were also the ‘audience’ for the book (or the book commissioners/buyers, perhaps). L’s proposal is in direct opposition to Weitzmann’s suggestion that religious art developed in manuscripts and was then placed in more public spaces. Both approaches seek, from an art-historical point of view, to explain the direction in which iconography travelled between media, taking at times considerable leaps from the extant evidence, rather than looking for the theoretical presuppositions that led to the development of imagery in books. The comparable scarcity of illustrated manuscripts in the West, where fewer losses of early evidence are in general appreciable, strengthens L’s viewpoint. In the Latin world too, iconography in books is rare in the early period but increases exponentially from around the ninth/tenth century onwards, reaching a climax in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries with the production of the bibles moralizées.4 The extraordinary increase in and development of illustrated books in the Middle Byzantine period must therefore be taken at face value and evaluated on its own terms. Besides socio-economic factors that determined the extremely high quality of the illustrations in manuscript productions of the eleventh and twelfth century, undoubtedly linked to questions of patronage, what interests us here is to enucleate a theoretical underpinning to such an intensified work of elaboration of illustrative cycles, bringing out elements that ground the aesthetic appeal of these creations into a wider ideological framework. Contrasting the aniconic devices that made the ancient Bible codices both dignified and legible – including a specific calligraphic script, the Biblical Majuscule, ornamental dividers and ‘Figurengedichte’, highquality parchment and luxury bindings – 5 , complex iconographical programmes 3

4

5

For an appreciation of the epoch-making work of Kurt Weitzmann, see M. B. Una rivoluzione nello studio della miniatura medievale: Kurt Weitzmann e Illustrations in Roll and Codex. Miniatura 3–4 (1990–1991), 109–116. For a succinct diachronic account of the evolution in the West, see S. G. Psalms through the Centuries. Oxford, 2008, 56–66. At 62–63, G notes that, paradoxically, the practice of illustrating Psalters in the West began at the same time as the iconoclast crisis. E. C. I più antichi manoscritti greci della Bibbia. Fattori materiali, bibliologici, grafici. In: Forme e modelli della tradizione manoscritta della Bibbia. Ed. by P. C. Vatican

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appear in Middle Byzantine sacred books. Not only the most famous illustrated codices belong to this period – notably, the Menologion of Basil II,6 as well as the illustrated Metaphrastes manuscripts,7 the famous Marcian Cynegetica,8 the illuminated copies of Kosmas Indicopleustes,9 the moralized Physiologos,10 various illuminated Psalters,11 and perhaps most significantly, the very elaborately illustrated Octateuchs12 – , but also, across each individual artist’s variations, a new style emerges, variously defined as ‘spiritual’ or ‘hieratic’, exuding a self-assured rarefaction and beauty.13 The roots of this iconographical language are to be sought in the earlier illustrative programmes from the iconoclastic era, to which these newer productions self-consciously hint, and upon which they are based. Therefore, beginning with the earlier period, we shall observe in what way imagery was used in sacred books; then, turning to the eleventh century, we will examine what transformations occur, and why. In both periods it would appear that a crisis in the status of images had repercussions for the use of images in manuscripts. While the sharpness of the icon-

6

7 8 9

10

11

12

13

City, 2005, 1–31; G. C. Ricerche sulla maiuscola biblica. Florence, 1967; I. H. Marginalia decorata. In: The Legacy of Bernard de Montfaucon: Three Hundred Years of Study on Greek Handwriting. Proceedings of the Seventh International Colloquium of Greek Palaeography (Madrid–Salamanca, 15–20 September 2008). Ed. by A. B G and I. P M. Bibliologia 31. Turnhout, 2010, 98–106, esp. p. 104 and pl. 10. The most recent study is a collection of essays accompanying a new facsimile edition of this precious codex: F. D’A and I. P M. El Menologio de Basilio II: Città del Vaticano, Biblioteca apostolica vaticana, Vat. gr. 1613: libro de estudios con ocasión de la edición facsímil. Vatican City, Athens, Madrid, 2008. N. S. Illustrated Manuscripts of the Metaphrastian Menologion. Chicago, PA, 1990. I. S. The Illustrations of the Cynegetica in Venice: Codex Marcianus graecus Z 139. Leiden, 2004, sic, but really MS Marc. gr. Z 479. M. K. “The World of Cosmas: the Universe Described and Depicted in Byzantine Manuscripts of the Christian Topography”. Unpublished doctoral dissertation. University of Oxford, 2006. M. B, G. P, and R. T. Il Fisiologo di Smirne. Le miniature del perduto codice B. 8 della Biblioteca della Scuola Evangelica di Smirne. Millennio medievale, 7. Florence, 1998. C. E. Das Psalterbild als Exegese. In: Testo e immagine nell’alto medioevo, Settimane di Studi del Centro Italiano di Studi sull’Alto Medioevo 41. Spoleto, 1994, 773–798. My project at Ars edendi, Stockholm University, concerns the publication of one of these Psalters, Vaticanus graecus 752, a Constantinopolitan production datable around 1059, whose images relate to the catena commentary prepared ad hoc for this manuscript. The project is carried out in collaboration with Dr Glenn Peers, University of Austin, Texas. K. W and M. B. The Byzantine Octateuchs. Princeton, NJ, 1999, have published the complete corpus, but see also the pioneering work by J. L. The Octateuchs: a Study in Byzantine Manuscript Illustration. University Park, PA, 1992. Cf. the recent judgement of O. P. The 1061 Gospel Miniatures (St. Petersburg, NLR, cod. Gr. 72) and Byzantine Art of the 1060s and 1070s. Nea Rhome 6 [= ῎Εξεμπλον. Studi in onore di Irmgard Hutter I] (2009), 249–271.

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oclastic crisis largely explains the polemical edge to the ninth-century illustrations, the subtler and more insidious critique of image worship that threatens the Byzantine church at the beginning of the eleventh century requires a persistent, learned answer from the illustrative programmes that seek to affirm and proclaim Christian truth and values. Book illustration could claim the advantage of remaining immune from the criticism of icon worship, in so far as its role in personal prayer and meditation could at the very least vary, but the throngs of miniatures filling in the otherwise empty margins proclaim a status for the image, and confer on it official and irrevocable powers of communication. This massive presence implies clear choices in terms of the Christian self-definition, proclaiming that Christianity simply could not work as a religion without figural representation. Manuscript Illustration against Iconoclasm If in general the period of Iconoclasm, as it is widely acknowledged, laid the groundwork for the Byzantine theory concerning images,14 the particular instances of book illumination at that time also laid the foundations for the future developments of this art form. In his article describing the revival of painting after Iconoclasm, C takes as his basic evidence nine works, of which five are important illuminated manuscripts extant from the ninth century: the Chludov Psalter, the Paris Gregory, the Walters Art Gallery New Testament, the Bible of Leo the Patrician, the Paris Psalter. Although each of these luxury illustrated books obviously presents a separate set of issues, C groups them in support of his thesis, “that after Iconoclasm the role of the patron in the creation of the painting was substantial, both in the choice of iconography but also in the way the artist visualized his subject matter”. According to C, though this role is not new, it can be retraced more precisely for the first time in these examples, which demonstrate that “the ‘disposition’ of art is the business of the church”.15 The evidence for this high ecclesiastical patronage is provided, in the main, by the activity of Patriarch Photios (c. 810–c. 893), whose erudite exegesis has been convincingly related to the illustrative programme of the Paris Gregory16 and whose preaching at the inauguration of the first figural mosaic to be represented in 14

15 16

The bibliography on this period is truly vast. For an orientation, and a wider selection of references to those mentioned here, see L. B and J. H. Byzantium in the Iconoclast Era (c. 680–850), the Sources: an Annotated Survey. Birmingham Byzantine and Ottoman Monographs 7. Aldershot, 2001, and now by the same authors L. B and J. H. Byzantium in the Iconoclast Era (c. 680–850), a History. Cambridge, 2011. R. C. Painting after Iconoclasm. In: Iconoclasm. Ed. by A. B and J. H. Birmingham, 1977, 147–163, 155. L. B. Vision and Meaning in Ninth-Century Byzantium: Image as Exegesis in the Homilies of Gregory of Nazianzus. Cambridge, 1999.

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Hagia Sophia, that of the Virgin and Child between Archangels, loudly proclaims the victory of the iconodules.17 S comments that Photios’ pro-image statements in this famous homily of 867 were made “comme une déclaration de circonstance”.18 According to S, Photios’ involvement with illuminated books should not blind us to his real passion, that of reading texts. S structured his (very useful) article along the rift between the status of words and images often discussed in the sources, arraying them somewhat artificially either sides of this fence. If Photios sides with words, then his once-off over-the-top defense of images – however historically unique and massively influential – can be safely disposed of as a rhetorical exercise. But would Photios himself have drawn such a sharp distinction in quite this way? If Photios’ elegant prose is open to interpretation, a quirkier piece of evidence ties down the high prelate to manuscript illustration in a way that is harder to shake off. In the Life of Ignatios by Niketas the Paphlagonian, a passage describes four precious books from Photios’ library that were discovered by the imperial spies in 867, confiscated and later burnt as punishment against the deposed patriarch.19 M’s inclusion of the first part of this description in his English anthology of sources on Byzantine art has made the ekphrasis concerning the first tome widely known.20 The passage is in fact considered a key witness to the practice of manuscript illumination.21 The account describes the contents of the first tome, which contained the Acts of a supposedly false synod against Patriarch Ignatios (c. 797–877). There were seven Acts, each of which was headed by a picture of Ignatios in colour, with captions, painted by Gregory Asbestas, bishop of Syracuse, a partisan to Photios’ cause.22 According to this text, bishop Gregory was 17 18

19 20

21

22

Photios, Homily XVII, English transl. by C. M. The Homilies of Patriarch Photios. Cambridge, MA, 1958, 286–296. J. S. La parole, le texte, et l’image selon les auteurs byzantins des époques iconoclaste et posticonoclaste. In: Testo e immagine nell’alto medioevo, Settimane di Studi del Centro Italiano di Studi sull’Alto Medioevo, 41. Spoleto, 1994, 197–240, 231. PG 105, 540–542. C. M. The Art of the Byzantine Empire, 312–1453: Sources and Documents. Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1972, 190–192; see also C. M. The Liquidation of Iconoclasm and the Patriarch Photios. In: Iconoclasm. Ed. by A. B and J. H. Birmingham, 1977, 133–140, 140. A. K and H. M. Byzantine Hagiographical Texts as Sources on Art. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 45 (1991), 1–22, 20: “Probably the most significant information related to illuminated book production”. Photios controversially chose Asbestas as the celebrant for his own second consecration as patriarch in 877: on this figure, see P. K-H. Gregory of Syracuse, Ignatios and Photios. In: Iconoclasm. Ed. by A. B and J. H. Birmingham, 1977, 141–145, 144; and the description by M, The Liquidation of Iconoclasm and the Patriarch Photios, see n. 20, 140 as: “an amateur artist who drew uncomplimentary miniatures of Ignatios in the margins

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a ‘ζωγράφος’, an artist. This claim, though made with disparaging intent and with the underlying assumption that artists are a doubtful, if not an outright immoral, category, can probably be accepted at face value.23 Its significance lies in the fact that images in manuscripts were directly, as well as indirectly, reflecting the intentions of the church hierarchy, and could be manipulated and controlled by ecclesiastical authorities just as much as texts, but with a more immediate effect, in turn amplified by ekphrasis.24 The Asbestas images of Ignatios in the luxury manuscript in Photios’ possession are a case in point. In a pithy, pointed remark in a footnote, M characteristically gives a key interpretative hint: “The miniatures described here were evidently a parody of a martyrdom cycle”. The seven scenes depict a series of tortures and insults suffered by Ignatios, which, according to the captions, were fully deserved by the patriarch. This parody must have been intended by the hagiographer to work on two levels: one of overt and true condemnation, demonstrating the full wickedness of Photios and Asbestas in criticizing Ignatios; but also one of subverted, Christian piety, in which the Christian beholder identified Ignatios’ sufferings with those of a victorious martyr. The captions associated with the seven images depicted by Asbestas play a key role in the accusations. Some designate Ignatios as ‘The Devil’, Simon Magus, and Antichrist, thus denouncing his role as a wicked and simoniacal bishop; but it has not yet been remarked that those referring to the third and fifth picture, ‘ὁ υἱὸς τῆς ἀπωλείας’ (the Son of Perdition) and ‘ὁ ὑπεραιρόμενος ἐπὶ πάντα Θεὸν καὶ σέβασμα’ (He who raises himself above God and above worship), combine in an allusion to 2 Thessalonians 3–4, a passage on the coming of the Antichrist. This passage refers to the proper worship, the ‘sebasma’, a word which recurs at Acts 17, 23, the famous passage where Paul on the Areopagus asks the Athenians whom it is that they worship under the inscription ‘To an unknown God’. Thus the accusation of iconoclasty is also piled up on Ignatios through these references.

23

24

of a manuscript”. The occasional nature of these drawings, which M seems to underline here, does not tally very well with the description of them as headpieces to the text, executed in colour. C, see n. 15, 160, compares Gregory to the near-legendary painter Lazaros, a monk who upheld with his painting the iconodule cause and was twice chosen as ambassador to Rome in 855 and 865. C also upholds the belief that “in speaking of the artists of the marginal psalters, [. . . ] we are speaking of people who, like their intended audience, were members of the highest levels of Byzantine intellectual society” (K. C. Visual Polemics in the Ninth-Century Byzantine Psalters. Cambridge, 1992, 7), and enumerates John the Grammarian among the artists themselves: see p. 6 and n. 21, with reference to Photios’ Homily XV and S. G. John the Grammarian, the Last Iconoclastic Patriarch of Constantinople, the Man and the Legend. Byzantina 3–4 (1974–1975), 25 n. 11. On the use of ekphrasis in Byzantine rhetoric, see L. J and R. W. “To understand ultimate things and enter secret places”: Ekphrasis and Art in Byzantium. Art History 14 (1991), 1–17, with reference to Photios at p. 13.

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To a Christian viewer, however, seeing the tortures of a martyr would have inspired pity and admiration, evoking the sequela Christi in the Via Crucis (esp. in the spitting and dragging described for the miniatures), while the captions would be seen as unjustly applied as was the inscription ‘INRI’ on Christ’s Cross. In other words, the hagiographer plays between denouncing the horrors piled on his champion, Ignatios, in order to highlight Photios as a true devil in contriving this pseudo-martyr sequence, while at the same time avoids the risk of truly ridiculing Ignatios by appealing to the Christian sensitivity in looking at a martyr’s cycle, where scorn, mockery and physical torture25 identify the sufferer with Christ and complete his sanctification. It is for this double potential that the hagiographer – I suggest – develops the ekphrasis and can keep in his narrative what was effectively an indictment of Ignatios as iconoclast and simoniacal bishop. The second part of this passage, not being available in M’s translation, is less well-known. It describes the second precious book found in Photios’ possession, which may not have contained pictures, as we have no mention and no ekphrasis of them. This book was a luxury copy of a text against Pope Nicholas I (c. 800–867), who had supported Ignatios. Furthermore, a second copy of both these books was found in Photios’ unsuccessfully absconded book bags.26 These extra copies had been produced for King Louis II of France (846–879), and were to be sent to the king together with other gifts in an embassy to enlist French help in overthrowing the pope from his see. All four books were seized by the Byzantine emperor, and, after being exposed to the public so that all could witness to Photios’ wickedness, were burnt by order of the synod in front of their author. In the narrative of Ignatios’ hagiographer, Photios’ precious books and their controversial, polemical images illustrate the power of these objects as official manifestos for internal and international politics, and their fate at the stake equally implies the seriousness with which these means of communication were perceived. Asbestas’ famous caricatures of Ignatios have been compared to the almost cartoon-like lampooning of the heresy of iconoclasm in the Chludov Psalter for 25

26

The last scene describes Ignatios as παρατομούμενον ‘quartered, cut to pieces’, – M had ‘beheaded’ with a question mark; cf. LSJ: παρατομὴ = rebate cut in a rock; II: section of a settlement, quarter, district. Thus probably ‘quartered’ rather than ‘beheaded’. See also παρατέμνω = cut to pieces (usually of animals); also cut, wound, maim; slaughtered, sacrificed (LSJ). At PG 105, 540C5, the sacks containing Photios’ books are ‘ἑπτὰ σάκκους’, though M has ‘six bags’ in his translation. At PG 105, 541 C1–2, the transition between the Book with the Acts and the next is introduced by the words ‘one [. . . ] the other’ in the singular (ἡ μία [. . . ] ἡ ἑτέρα), while in conclusion (C13–14) we learn that of each book there were two copies, one made to be sent, the other to be kept by Photios, so that the total number of tomes taken by the authorities is four (τούτων τῶν τεσσάρων βιβίων δραξάμενος ὁ βασιλεύς, [. . . ]). A critical edition of this important text is not yet forthcoming.

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both themes27 and style.28 As Anastasios of Sinai maintained, in times of doctrinal polemics, images, not texts, can convey the truth without fear of their being altered and distorted.29 The Chludov Psalter, the earliest illustrated Psalter in Byzantium according to the extant evidence, attests that the Byzantines appreciated and practiced this form of pictorial record in polemical times. The images containing a direct indictment of iconoclast bishops as simoniacal and as Christ-offenders are enshrined in the eloquent imagery of this Psalter.30 A two-tiered typology is operative in these illustrations, which provide first a New Testament reference for the Psalm verse, and then a contemporary reference in parallel to the biblical one. Thus, for example, on fol. 51v,31 he who “trusted in the abundance of his riches” (Ps. 51:9) has been punished in the same way as Simon Magus is punished, being trampled on by St Peter while spilling his gold; but a second visual reference is also inserted, so that just as St Peter, so the iconodule Patriarch Nikephoros (as the clipeate icon of Christ he holds firmly attests) is trampling over the iconoclast John the Grammarian, who spills his gold as a ‘second Simon’.32 The corruption implied in the selling of ecclesiastical offices is here pointedly joined to the condemnation of iconoclasty, thus compounding the problems in what was to all intents and purposes an internal schism of the Byzantine Church. The second image referring to iconoclasm in the Chludov Psalter works in the same twofold manner: at fol. 67r,33 the Psalm verse “[. . . ] in my thirst, they gave me vinegar to drink” (Ps. 68:22) is read as a typological reference to the Crucifixion, depicting in the margin Christ on the cross being offered a sponge with vinegar on a high stick. At the second level, the contemporary event is articulated in a precise iconography: two iconoclasts are holding a long pole at the end of which is a sponge that has been immersed in the cauldron below, which contains a mixture of whitewash. They are pointing the sponge at the clipeate image of Christ above them. Subtly, the parallel imagery also makes the point that the image of Christ 27

28 29

30 31 32 33

K and M, see n. 21, 20 and n. 186: “In his paintings Gregory Asbestas compared Ignatios to the devil and to Simon the Sorcerer, just as in the Psalter there are miniatures and legends identifying the Iconoclasts with these characters”. Cf., inter alia, C, see n. 15, 160: “This abusive but inventive cycle may have been in the manner of the Chludov Psalter”. See also C, see n. 23, 6–7. K. P. Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought of the Eighth and Ninth Centuries. Leiden, 1996, 158, quoting a translation of PG 89, 196AD. See now the edition by K.-H. U. Anastasius Sinaita, Viae Dux. Corpus Christianorum Series Graeca 8. Turnhout and Leuven, 1981, 1 and XII, 1, 8–9, ll. 27–34 and 201–202, ll. 4–30. Further references in S, see n. 18, 207, n. 36 and p. 221. C, see n. 23, chapter 2. C, see n. 23, fig. 39. The comparison finds a textual source in Patriarch Methodios (843–847), Canon on the Setting up of the Holy Images: see C, see n. 23, 2. C, see n. 23, 42.

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really stands for (re-presents) Christ, and just as the historical Jesus was mocked by his contemporaries, so the iconoclasts’ slighting of the image of Christ enacts a similar sin. One also wonders whether the specific placing of the icon high above the iconoclast’s head-level, which requires the use of a long pole for its erasing, might contain a reference to the frequently debated question, at what height were devotional images acceptable.34 In commenting on this image, C draws out the implicit parallel between the Jews as Christ-slayers and the Iconoclasts,35 bringing to bear the literary background of Adversus Judaeos literature on a further layer of polemic contained in these images. Through her innovative approach to the ninth-century illustrated psalters, C explores inter-faith issues directed on the one hand to antiJewish polemic, and on the other to a reaction to the increasing ‘threat of Islam’, as chapter 5 is entitled. This broader milieu is instigated and justified by the causal connections between these monotheistic, but aniconic, religions and the wave of iconoclasm.36 However, accusations may not be as sharply intended as C at times implies: given that the Psalms are set in Jewish times, it is natural that the Jewish characterization of the figures should appear as such in the images. It is noteworthy that the existence of Jewish art is defended not only in the recurrent depiction of the objects for temple worship commanded by God, but even at one point more specifically in the depiction and naming of the Old Testament artist, Beseleel, who executed them.37 The Old Testament basis for ‘iconography’ – in the sense of objects of cultic practice – is as necessary to the Christian iconodule as the further justification that Christ’s incarnation enables the anthropomorphic representation of God, distinct from the fashioning of idols. Thus, the necessity of the distinction between icon and idol provides a mainstream theme for this exegetical iconography, articulating the self-reflection on the proper place, forms and value of religious art for a religion that defines itself as the continuation of that described in 34

35 36

37

P, Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought of the Eighth and Ninth Centuries, see n. 29, 50, referring to a passage by Theodoros Studites, PG 99, 353A. Images at a lower level would more easily be the object of undue (in the iconoclasts’ eyes) devotional practices. On the intersection between this literature and the icons debate, see P, Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought of the Eighth and Ninth Centuries, see n. 29, 46–48. G. S. Byzantinischer und jüdisch–islamischer Ikonoklasmus. In: Der Byzantinische Bilderstreit. Ed. by J. I. Leipzig, 1980, 83–90. For a collection of stimulating essays taking a comparative approach to Byzantine and Muslim art, see A. C. Image Making in Byzantium, Sasanian Persia and the Early Muslim World. Images and Cultures. Farnham, 2009, esp. VI, The Image of the Word in Byzantium and Islam: an Essay in Art-Historical Geodesy. C, see n. 23, 34 and fig. 44, referring to the image in Pantokrator Psalter, fol. 165r, commenting Psalm 113. See also the article by S. D. Une illustration “historique” inconnue du psautier du Mont–Athos, Pantokrator no. 61. Cahiers Archéologiques 15 (1965), 83–95, on which C’s paragraph is based.

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Figure 1: Chludov Psalter, Fol. 67r . Illustration is taken from Kathleen Corrigan, Visual Polemics in the Ninth-Century Byzantine Psalters, Cambridge, 1992.

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the Old Testament.38 Iconoclasm as a crisis point led to the adoption of images as a mark of identity.39 The evidence of illuminated manuscripts from ninth-century Constantinople strongly proclaims the iconodule victory and specifically supports the re-unification of word and image. Images are necessary co-carriers of the religious message, not only because they are effective in translating the exegetical meaning into visual typology, but also because of their potential for actualizing that message for a contemporary audience. This further step is a necessary part of reading and re-reading the sacred text. In polemical times, only images are immune from tampering, whereas texts can be rewritten and thereby altered and falsified. Images can, indeed, be destroyed, but insofar as they are extant, cannot easily be distorted. By impressing into imagery a poignant exegetical and intellectual content, ninth-century high-powered iconodules answer the criticism of animistic idolatry before images by sidelining this issue. Rather, they foreground their function as carriers of meaning in relation to the sacred text, bringing representations of the divine into a different qualitative plane with respect to images for worship. To a large extent, they also highlight the catechetical value of the image that, drawing from a stock of tradition that marks the identity of a group, brings this forward into a dynamic communication with any viewer.40 The potential for this avenue of mediation with the divine, its many-sided advantages, its almost limitless scope for creativity, was successfully defended against the straight-jacketing control of the iconoclast elite. But while with Photios we witness a replacing of this imperial control with an ecclesiastically approved official line – his ‘strong guiding hand’, as B says –41 , the production of elaborate iconographical programmes in manuscripts very probably stemming from a monastic milieu maintained a freer modality of expression besides a high intellectual content. Thus, the polemical use of imagery in the ninth-century marginal Psalters undercuts this move towards an official, ‘approved’ iconography, reserving an independent and active role for book illustration that safe-guarded the essence of the iconodule victory.

38

39 40 41

The delicate balance between recognizing Jewish inheritance and avoiding Judaizing trends is a frequently debated issue; the Marcionite refusal of the Old Testament is at all costs to be avoided: cf. P, Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought of the Eighth and Ninth Centuries, see n. 29, 160–161. J. M. F. Icons as Cultural Identity. In: L’Aniconisme dans l’art religieux byzantin. Geneva, 1–4 October 2009. Ed. by M. M-R and J. S. Forthcoming. G. L. Bild und Wort. Die katechetischen Funktionen des Bildes in der griechischen Theologie des sechsten bis neunten Jahrhunderts. Würzburg, 1969 remains the classical study. L. B. Politics, Patronage, and Art in Ninth-Century Byzantium: The “Homilies” of Gregory of Nazianzus in Paris (B. N. gr. 510). Dumbarton Oaks Papers 39 (1985), 1–13, 11.

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Manuscript illumination in the eleventh century The dynamic use of imagery in eleventh-century manuscripts demonstrates the effectiveness of this undercutting. Nearly two centuries after Iconoclasm, illustrations continue to be devised and developed according to a concepteur’s plan, for the expression of a particular set of issues, a ‘message’, based on the text they accompany but also pointedly related to contemporary events. But the way in which these images work to articulate their message becomes far less direct than the plain references to iconoclasm that the daringly polemical Chludov (and associated mss) could make to their contemporary situation. On one hand, the tradition of exegetical imagery on which these eleventh-century productions are based was far more extensive and developed than before; and keeping in line with this tradition, in the manner of textual florilegia, was the acceptable form theologizing took at that time. On the other, the political instability of the eleventh century probably inspired even greater caution in the manner of articulation of any theological or ecclesiastical concepts. While the echo of the Greek/Latin disputations of 1054 has been perceived in some illustrations, the full scale of the reflection of the debates in the exceptional manuscript production of this period has as yet to be appreciated.42 In what sense, if any, were the illustrative programmes answering contemporary discussions concerning the use of icons in worship? Was ‘iconoclasm’ in any form rife and coming to the fore once again? The attention that B has bestowed on the theory of the icon in eleventhcentury Byzantium draws out a fundamental contrast embodied in two important and different personalities that marked the intellectual and ecclesiastical life of the capital: Symeon the New Theologian (949–1022) and Michael Psellos (1017/18–c. 1096). The style of Christianity advocated by Symeon was centred in the individual’s mystical experience, a light perceived at the end of the individual’s spiritual journey. Symeon’s meditative path was abstracted from material aids; it ended in a totally subjective realization that could not be passed on as such. On the other hand, Psellos is understood through his writings concerning icons as a Neoplatonist philosopher who values the mediation of material objects, and particularly beautiful works of art, as opening a window onto the immaterial world. This experience is shared by the community and available to any of the faithful, regardless of their intellectual preparation, because it originates with God and is transmitted thor42

M. B. Le rôle des images dans les polémiques religieuses entre l’Eglise grecque et l’Eglise latine (XI–XIII siècles). Revue belge de philologie et d’histoire 81 (2003), 1023–1049. I thank Alessandra Bucossi for this reference. See also B. C. Riflessi del contrasto con l’Occidente nei manoscritti studiti miniati del dopo–scisma (1054). Rivista di Studi Bizantini e Neoellenici. [= Rivista di Studi Bizantini e Neoellenici, 47 2011] 47 [Atti della IX Giornata di Studi dell’Associazione Italiana di Studi Bizantini (AISB), Roma, 5–6 Dicembre 2008] (2011). Ed. by F. D’ and E. R, 265–284.

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ough grace. The clash of these views, with repercussions beyond the world of icons to the self-understanding of Christianity, marks in various and manifold ways the eleventh century. By looking at three specific areas that are found articulated with special emphasis in the manuscript iconography of this period, we shall see how, using the echo of parallel themes from the ninth century as a foil, the argument in favour of images advances one step further the definition of Christian identity. These topics are: 1. the cult of saints; 2. the consideration of the Christian people – the laity – as the basis for Christian belief; 3. the universal power of communication of the visual for inter-ecclesial and extra-ecclesiastical (international) debates. The eleventh-century context made each of these aspects once more paramount to Christianity’s self-definition, the issues being not only relevant for debates within the Byzantine church and with Rome, but also with respect to the position of the Greek church vis-à-vis other faiths. The cult of saints The proper way in which to handle the cult of saints was a point of debate during iconoclasm. The ninth-century iconodule monk and leader, Theodoros Studites (759–826), invokes the need for both Vita texts and images to contribute to the Christian understanding of saints.43 His insistence is usually interpreted as yet another iconodule battle-horse in reaction to the iconoclast blast, but again this is to dismiss as irrelevant what for Theodoros was central. The intense hagiographical activity of the eleventh century compels us to re-examine his case. The layout of the famous Menologion of Basil II springs to mind. It has been often noted that the page is equally divided between a pictorial representation of the saint, variously depicted as ‘orant’ or in the action of martyrdom, and the hieratic Perlschrift text, which literally adorns with words the other half of the page, being no less pleasing to the eye than the vividly coloured images on a gold background. This manuscript exemplifies Theodoros’ point precisely:44 not just words, but words and images together, carrying equal weight, are necessary to the Christian cult of saints. Why? On one hand, there is the argument, this time a true iconodule sophism, that ink pigments that form words on the page are as concrete as colour pigments forming pictures, therefore words and images have the same, 43

44

S, see n. 18, 227 and n. 131 cites two Epistles by Theodoros in support of this point: see the edition by G. F. Theodori Studitae Epistulae. Berlin, New York, 1992, vol, II, 171 and 737–738. This claim is not identical to saying that the Menologion was made in order to exemplify Theodoros’ view. However, between a purely technical explanation for this specific layout, and one that also envisages some further meaning, I would not light-heartedly disregard the latter.

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equally unassailable status. The Armenian treatise against Iconoclasm published by D N makes this point,45 but the composite and slightly dubious nature of this text – in terms of its attribution and dating – allows us to forsake the evidence for an understanding of Theodoros’ point. By making the words in books as concrete as images, this treatise does not advance the case for images as much as undermines the proper understanding of the text of the Scriptures as inspired. On the other hand, the ‘ethical theory of saints’, as has been termed,46 is not necessarily what Theodoros is up against. Saints are models, exempla, of virtuous behaviour, and if the images of martyrdom have been said to be more moving for the soul when seen in colour,47 it is not just the emotional response (or in an idiom more appropriate for the eleventh century, the ‘affective piety’) unleashed by the art that Theodoros is concerned with. Clearly, as paradigms of behavioural imitation, narratives are just as powerful as pictures, and often more precise. These narratives were liturgically read out aloud, and these performances, often accompanied by processions or other services, made them accessible to a wide audience. While Pope Gregory the Great was defending church art on the basis of its wide appeal to the unlearned, one cannot use this argument automatically with respect to the representation of saints in essentially elitist books. Theodoros’ point must rather be construed as an indication that the ethical theory of saints is insufficient for true Christian practice. As individuals with a moral story – or often with an immoral story that is turned into salvation by God’s grace – saints stand as (more or less familiar) paradigms, but as saints, with halos and inscriptions and icons, they stand in churches (and in manuscripts) as witnesses to the communion of saints; their destiny as immortals admitted to the presence and vision of God prefigures the Christian hope of eschatological salvation. That is why their living presence is an axiom, expressed in the narrative of their miracles, in the extraordinary power of their relics, and in the honour bestowed upon them through their iconography. As P explains, there is an intrinsic distinction between living and dead matter, yet dead saints are living matter through their iconic representations.48 So the saints that burst in and pervade the margins of the eleventh-century Psalters49 affirm a complex view of Christianity that sees in 45 46 47

48 49

S. D N. Une apologie des images du septième siècle. Byzantion 17 (1944–1995), 58–87; L, see n. 40, 78–84, p. 79. M. V. A. The Ethical Theory of Images Formulated by the Iconoclasts in 752 and 815. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 8 (1954), 153–160. On the power of images to move, see S, see n. 18, 204, 217. See also the exploitation of images for medieval piety as discussed in R. W. S. The Making of the Middle Ages. New Haven, 1953, 231–240. K. P. Theodore Studites and the Patriarch Nicephoros on Image Making as a Christian Imperative. Byzantion 59 (1989), 164–183, 172–173 and n. 55. L. M. L’Irruption des saints dans l’illustration du psautier byzantin. Analecta Bollandiana

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them a continuation of Revelation in history. It is significant that this memory could not, in any way, just be expressed in words, while the figural representations convey in their style and appearance the special status that one can try, in words, to explain, and that the highly formalized caption, ‘hagios’, sanctions and summarizes. Participation in the communion of saints, and a relationship to the saints’ world, cannot be purely mental, aniconic. In this sense, representations of saints are always ‘life-like’, involving the human sphere with all its particularities and limitations. The believer’s relationship to the saints hinges on the fundamental concept of familiarity, determining the parameters of the viewer exposed to sacred art.50 A good example of this interaction is provided by the festival of Saint Theodore the Footsoldier, that the eleventh-century poet John Mauropous (c. 1000–1070) celebrates as providing a ‘more familiar’ (οἰκειότερος: ‘closer’ in K and M’s translation) model for the participants to the festival than the icons of other ‘Theodore’ saints, ‘mounted and brilliant and covered with gold’.51 Thus the saint is posited as a model, but not an aloof one; he provides an immediate bridge between the domestic and the public spheres, as well as between the earthly and the divine. And this bridge is made accessible to the believer’s experience through figural representation and devotional practices such as saints’ festivals. In this sense, Christian ethics takes grace into account as much as works, while iconoclasts often support a view overwhelmingly in favour of the latter. But admitting grace is to admit ways in which the supernatural works its way into the natural world, and therefore allowing channels for such interactions through special objects – such as icons and relics – as well as established formulas, namely liturgical rituals (theurgy). Although Symeon’s monastic spirituality is grounded in repentance, its unfolding is far from the normal requirements of the coenobium, but rather acutely abstract. As B explains it, [. . . ] Symeon was focused on the experience and vision of God. To incorporate icons in this economy presents some difficulties. An icon was only meant to pertain to ordinary human knowledge and visual capacity, while God must absolutely transcend these potential limits. Symeon might have chosen to use the medium of the icon to explore the changed nature of these capacities, yet he chooses not to do this. Rather, the experience of the divine, while made available in the present world, was not conveyed by or through the things in this

50 51

68 (1950), 153–62. L’s concept of ‘familiarity’ depends on the parameters of this experience, which is in turn inserted in daily living. See above, p. 106. K and M, see n. 21, 13.

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world. Rather, as an intelligible experience this experience made itself available in an extraordinary manner as light.52 While this much is evinced from Symeon’s own writings, the posthumous account of his Vita written by the Studite monk Niketas Stethatos around 1050 introduces in the narrative of Symeon’s trial an icon of his spiritual father, Symeon Eulabes, as part of the cult he was promoting around him.53 It may be significant that this icon comes into play only in the third and last part of the trial, and that the hagiographer goes to great lengths in showing Symeon’s proper use of this object, including a prayer of petition, even though the overt role of the icon in the trial is to underwrite Symeon’s mistake in promoting the cult of a sinful man – his spiritual father – and justify his exile on the part of the church authorities. These authorities order the removal of the title, ‘hagios’, from the panel, thus reducing the image from icon to portrait. This story has the double purpose of showing Symeon’s orthodoxy with respect to icon worship, contrasting the heretical position he expresses in his own writings and reconducing his banishment to within an acceptable realm of orthodoxy; but it also serves the purpose of affirming the power of the ecclesiastical authority over the proper use of icons and the sanction of sainthood. The role of the laity That the rejection of the visual would have created a two-tiered Christianity, made of the elect and spiritual on the one side, and of the ‘anthropomorphites’ on the other, was another unacceptable consequence of the disposal of images according to Theodoros Studites. He stresses that the intellectuals and the unlearned both need instruction in the form of images, and the presence of images in books is the logical corollary to this standpoint.54 Images are an immediate, expressive and necessary form of communication for men. Even to a scholar such as John Damascene, images provide a shortcut to the divine: either through lack of time, or through lack of willingness, John admits that images lead him to good thoughts more quickly and with less effort than reading a text.55 52 53

54 55

C. B. Contesting the Logic of Painting. Art and Understanding in Eleventh-Century Byzantium. Leiden and Boston, MA, 2007, 49. I. H, ed. Vie de Syméon le Nouveau Théologien par Nikétas Stéthatos. Rome, 1928. Reference to this key episode is often found in the literature; N. O. The Holy Icon as an Asset. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 45 (1991), 35–44, 35; C. B. Icon and Portrait in the Trial of Symeon the New Theologian. In: Icon and Word: the Power of Images in Byzantium. Studies Presented to Robin Cormack. Ed. by A. E and L. J. Ashgate, 2003, 25–34. S, see n. 18, 226–227 and the references there. S, see n. 18, 226–227.

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A fundamental aspect in the working out of Christian theology has been that of taking to heart the point of view of the laity, i.e. of the theologically uninitiated who, however, in their practice of Christian life and, more fundamentally, in their experience as believers, have cultivated a relationship to God as manifested through Christ in the Scriptures. In the eleventh century, an essential part of the debates concerning the Eucharist that were going on within the Latin world, notably with the protracted examination of Berengarius of Tour’s doctrines on transubstantiation, tried to incorporate in the final statement of doctrinal approval centuries of devotion to the Eucharist in the practice of the faithful.56 While the high-flown theological arguments did in some case sound convincing, their flouting of popular belief was serious enough to require adjustment of the theory to the people’s practice, not, as it were, in order to create a compromise, but because the experience of the faithful was considered key for the self-understanding of the church. That experience alone guaranteed an open channel between the worldly and the divine realms. As B correctly notes, the “simple woman” (ἀπερίεργον γύναιον) in Psellos’s account of the miracle at Blachernae performs a key role in helping us to understand this investigation of spiritual seeing. She provides a model of inspiration, demonstrating that one can receive the miraculous sight despite one’s performative incompetence. As such, she becomes the very guarantee for Psellos’ understanding of the supernatural origin for the regular living visit of the Theotokos to the Blachernae [. . . ].57 In this respect, images as the medium by which theological subtleties are explained and offered in an immediately intelligible form became an important instrument not just to spread the catechetical knowledge of Scriptures, but more importantly to affirm the very concept of the need to keep everyone on board if the Church was to be truly catholic, i.e. universal. Nor was this elaboration, though in principle directed to all, and for all, in any way simplistic. The exegetical value of images and their complexity has often been underlined; straightforward typology was only the easiest interpretative tool available to the reader of these illuminated books by which to extract the meaning of the image placed next to the sacred text. Eleventh-century illuminators did not shy away from difficult representations, as in the striking example of the homily illustrated with the Magi adoring the poly56

57

Debates between the role of icons and the status of the eucharist are clearly at some level interconnected, and pursuing this link in the eleventh century should fruitfully highlight the theurgical aspect of iconography I am pursuing here in a limited fashion. See below, 125 n. 70. B, Contesting the Logic of Painting. Art and Understanding in Eleventh-Century Byzantium, see n. 52, 98.

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morphous Christ as child, adult and old man, in MS Jerusalem, Taphou 14.58 The introduction of the historiated initial, moreover, gave them scope for experimentation with different ‘summaries’ of the key images. Rather than the work of one ‘concepteur’ commanding, Photios-style, the iconographical vocabulary of any specific manuscript, the activity of a workshop planning and executing illuminated manuscripts, both conceptually and practically, can be envisaged in the same way as a film studio produces films. The narrative ability goes hand in hand with the ideas that want to be foregrounded in more symbolic ways, and technical expertise (including models) combined with creativity and the specific needs of each production.59 Inter-ecclesial and international debates The potential of images to allude to church polemics has been seen in the overt ninth-century images condemning iconoclasm. It can be argued that the rift between the positions of Symeon and Psellos as epitomizing contrasting views of Christianity had the potential of exploding into a schism within the Byzantine church, a potential that was handled in turn in repressive and in euphoric fashion, until the conflict escalated beyond the confines of the Greek church under Patriarch Michael Keroularios (c. 1000–1059). It has been suggested that several images in eleventh-century manuscripts are devised as allusions to the 1054 debates, albeit in a covert way, and on this view the reflection of the debates on images is not only politically motivated, but also in part at least self-referential in upholding the value of images. At the disputational level of pamphlets also, the question of icons re-surfaces.60 This item was included in the ‘list’ of Latin errors among the Judaizing factors (including practices such as the use of unleavened bread) of which Latins are held guilty by the Byzantine hierarchy. As I have argued elsewhere, this continued pres58

59 60

See also B’s interest in this image, B, Contesting the Logic of Painting. Art and Understanding in Eleventh-Century Byzantium, see n. 52, 92–93; to the literature cited there at n. 65 can be added G. K. M. Christ’s Polymorphism in Jerusalem Taphou 14: An Examination of Text and Image. Apochrypha 14 (2001), 177–91; for the philosophical implications of this iconography, see E. J. Polymorphie du Dieu–Sauveur. In: Gnosticisme et monde hellénistique. Ed. by K. R. Louvain–la–neuve, 1982, 38–46. Cf. also the reference in G. D. Holy Images and Likeness. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 45 (1991), 22–33, 29 and n. 45. See for example my analysis of an unusual image from a Jewish apochryphon in the Theodoros Psalter: http://www.arsedendi.org/wp–content/uploads//Toronto–paper–Crostini.pdf. Some aspects of these disputations have been described as being in a ‘low poor taste’ by E. C. 1054: Schism?. In Cristianità d’Occidente e Cristianità d’Oriente (secoli VI-XI). Settimane di Studio del Centro di Studi Medievali di Spoleto 51 (ii) (2004), 547–71, 561. For an overview of this type of literature, see T. M. K. The Byzantine Lists: Errors of the Latins. Chicago, 2000.

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ence of the iconoclast themes is not just a ‘souvenir’, as D N defined it, of the iconoclast controversy, although keeping memory of an event is of course the first, necessary step enabling the reading of its significance for contemporary matters.61 Rather, allusions to iconoclasm may in fact essentially concern the relation between Constantinople and Rome, suggesting a parallel between the ninthcentury situation and the contemporary one. While Humbert of Silva Candida (c. 1000–1061) appears to take issue, among other things, with the way of representing the Crucifix in Byzantium, Keroullarios absurdly complains that Latins do not venerate relics. Art appears to remain key to inter-ecclesial debates. Arethas of Caesarea compares the different ethnic representations of Christ to the different languages and alphabets in which the Gospels are written.62 Unlike language, images did not need translation. This non-verbal communication was directed cross-culturally to address the debates with other religions. Contrast with Islamic aniconic (and just calligraphic) art was clearly one – negative – reason to develop Christian iconography. Distinctiveness from the “Other” was one of the issues; another was a need to manifest doctrinal differences in a concrete and public form. In this sense, aniconism became a polemical manifestation where the human form was a place of peace and reassurance for the Christian – and could perhaps be offered as a meeting-point to the other faiths when there was a certain common ground, as for example with the figure of John the Baptist or the seven sleepers of Ephesos.63 With respect to the Jews, the choice of full-scale iconography was not, as we said before, seen purely in contrast to Jewish aniconic practice. Cassian, when advocating the absence of mental images from prayer, accuses of ‘Jewish weakness’ those who keep the thought of Jesus in the flesh while they pray.64 In Cassian’s sense, Jews remain tied to the world, and images are part of the immanent world 61

62 63

64

S. D N. L’Illustration des Psautiers grecs du Moyen Age, II. Londres, Add. 19.352. Bibliothèque des Cahiers Archéologiques 5. Paris, 1970; cf. B. C. Navigando per il Salterio: riflessioni intorno all’edizione elettronica del manoscritto Londra, British Library, Addit. 19.352. (prima parte). Bollettino della Badia greca di Grottaferrata 55 (2001), 191– 215 and B. C. Navigando per il Salterio: riflessioni intorno all’edizione elettronica del manoscritto Londra, British Library, Addit. 19.352. (Seconda parte: Il significato storico del Salterio di Teodoro). Bollettino della Badia greca di Grottaferrata 56–57 (2002–2003), 133–209. A, Pros eichonomachous, ed. W, Scripta minora. Leipzig, 1968, 79–80. On shared saints and pilgrimage sites, see Y. M. The Cult of Saints among Muslim and Jews in Medieval Syria. Oxford, 2002; on the cult of John, see N. K. Damascus after the Muslim Conquest: Text and Image in Early Islam. Oxford, 2011, chapter 3; Y. M. Le culte liturgique et populaire des VII Dormants martyrs d’Ephèse (ahl al-kahf ): trait d’union Orient–Occident entre l’islam et la chrétienté d’après la documentation recueillie par Louis Massignon. Rome, 1961. P, Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought of the Eighth and Ninth Centuries, see n. 29, 5.

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that needs transcending in ascetic practice. In the catechetical effort to remind fellow Christians of the importance of the objects of Jewish worship, including, in the ark, the figural representations of the cherubs with human faces, the medieval Christians were aware of sharing the same commandments with the Jews, yet believed they were not contravening Mosaic law, but simply carrying forward these same (non idolatrous) liturgies with the addition of specifically Christian elements. Even the Synodikon of Orthodoxy proclaimed so, blessing those aware of the typological value of Old Testament symbols, while all the stories that accompanied its ritual proclamation had to do with Jews at last capable of realizing the true value of icons.65 Interest in the work of Kosmas Indicopleustes produced two very important illuminated manuscripts of this work in the eleventh century, witnessing to this theological position vis-à-vis Jewish cult. The extraordinary set of images combining Jewish cult objects with their Christian significance in the illustrated manuscript of the Physiologos translates the continuity suggested by the Synodikon into a striking visual form.66

Conclusion While the ‘purification’ aimed at by the iconoclasts upheld a spiritualized religion devoid of its trappings, i.e. a religion without theurgy, non-figural or aniconic representation was accepted as able to appease the aesthetic sense and to provide apparently non-controversial decorative ornamentation that was deemed suitable to the sacrality of the place, or of the book. Like early Bibles, so Justinian’s Hagia Sophia only displayed such aniconic art.67 In contrast to this, Theodoros Studites declares in a striking paradox that “unless there are images of Christ the incarnation might as well not have taken place; [. . . ] Had we denied the veneration of holy icons, our faith would have been empty, our message meaningless”. This denial, he continues, would have ruined all good deeds, all virtue, all knowledge of the divine.68 In a similar vein, the patriarch Nikephoros, author of three Antirrhetica concerning the defense of icons, states that the circumscribability of Christ in icon-form is a necessary attribute of his being; if it failed, there would be no Christ, no Uni65 66 67

68

B, Contesting the Logic of Painting. Art and Understanding in Eleventh-Century Byzantium, see n. 52, ch. 1, esp. 17–18, with references to the key work by Jean Gouillard. E. R-N. Le Témoignage de l’absence: les objets du sanctuaire à Byzance et dans l’art Juif du XIe au XV siècle. Paris, 1998. L. B. Aniconic Decoration in the Christian World (6th–11th cent.): East and West. In: Cristianità d’Occidente e Cristianità d’Oriente (secoli VI–XI), Settimane di Studio del Centro di Studi Medievali di Spoleto 51, 2 vols. Vol. II. Spoleto, 2004, 573–89. PG 99, 432D and PG 99, col. 173B; cited by K and M, see n. 21, 12.

Book and Image in Byzantine Christianity

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verse.69 The starkness of these pronouncements has been taken as an exaggeration in reaction to the bitter and highly politicized iconoclast controversy that divided Byzantine Greek Christianity during the seventh and eighth centuries. However, it is thanks to this strong theoretical underpinning that the reprise, and arguably, the further development of Christian iconography in the following centuries were made possible. The variety and vitality of the iconography in expressing Christian identity and beliefs in the eleventh century can been understood as a fulfillment of Theodoros Studites’ understanding of icons as an essential part of the Christian faith. Aspects of this faith, such as the cult of saints, and the need for unity in the Church, are particularly relevant to the eleventh-century context. At the same time the catechetical aspect of the image remains paramount. As a taught religion, Christianity can only be passed on through didactic aids such as pictorial cycles, enriching the Scriptures and their commentaries. If manuscript illumination cannot be directly related to popular catechetical aims, its declaration of the value of images for all holds up an unequivocal reminder of the necessity, for intellectual Christians, to remain aware of the contribution of all the faithful, whose perspective cannot be replaced by theological speculation alone. At the end of his article ‘Iconoclasm and the Monophysites’,70 B suggests that “the real – but unvoiced – issue underlying the whole Iconoclast controversy has nothing at all to do with Christology, and very little (directly at least) with the legitimacy of images. It is, rather, a question of how far the divine is allowed to impinge in the human world”. B goes on to specify that “Iconoclasts wished to confine the sphere of divine ‘interference’ [. . . ] to certain given areas, [. . . ] the Eucharist and the saints”, and supports this conclusion with a quotation from the (iconoclast) Horos of 754: “images/icons are ordinary matter, since no prayer of sanctification has been said over them”. This raises the question of consecration as sealing the hallowing of a specific cultic object, thereby authorizing its use in worship and ‘policing’ its development. In this sense, the eucharistic species which become at one point for the iconoclasts the only true image of Christ have the characteristic of doing so under a specific ritual and by a designated practitioner.71 69

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PG 100, 244CD; transl. pp. 85–86. A French translation has been recently published in the series Collection d’esthètique in Paris by Klincksieck, thereby giving this work a suitable place among the philosophical – and thus not merely theological – treatises on the subject of artistic representation, which this series intends to address in a cross-cultural and diachronic fashion: M.-J. M-B. Nicéphore: Discours contre les iconoclastes. Collection d’esthètique 52. Paris, 1989. S. B. Iconoclasm and the Monophysites. In: Iconoclasm. Birmingham, 1977, 53–57, 57. At n. 47, B quotes a similar definition by Brown, EHR 346 (1973), 1–34: “The iconoclast controversy was a debate on the position of the holy in Byzantine society”. See the very learned and balanced article on this topic by S. G. The Eucharistic Doctrine of the Byzantine Iconoclasts and Its Sources. Byzantinische Zeitschrift 68 (1975), 4–22.

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Barbara Crostini

As we have seen, questions of ecclesiastical control over images were less easy to handle and allowed for a wider range of interpretations. If the position of Symeon posed one kind of threat to the established hierarchy, Psellos’ reasoning posed another type, unleashing the communicative power of images that was, in its essence, uncontrollable.72 Were the splendid images of eleventh-century manuscripts taken for devotional reading and admired in a form of rumination or, as G says, used for ‘prayerful academic study’? Their aesthetic appeal was certainly part of their function, just as the musical enhancement of the Psalter by Pope Gregory the Great (c. 540–604) extended its use and universalized the involvement of all communities in its recitation down to this day. The visual impact and the tangible nature of these signs of the divine allows a leap to be made by the faithful that brings him – anagogically – from the sensitive to the supra-sensitive. The same activity of ‘going beyond’ is required in the reading of Scripture, especially of the Old Testament.73 The complexity of some of the iconographical programmes makes us think that there were indeed appreciative readers somewhere to be found, probably among the Byzantine elite, or perhaps abroad, where mss were sometimes sent as ambassadors for the Christian faith. I would contend therefore that the increase in the elaboration of pictorial cycles in the middle of the eleventh century was part of an attempt to keep the unity of the church despite its doctrinal controversies, and at once an attempt to counter and forestall such internal divisions as the resurgence of a type of iconoclasm had brought by affirming theurgy as an essential component for an undivided Christianity. At least in this narrow sense of requiring an element of ‘theurgy’, and quite apart from broader and subtler philosophical tenets, the medieval iconophiles can perhaps be said to be – mutatis mutandis – ‘Neoplatonists’.74

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A. C. The Anxiety of Images: Meanings and Material Objects. In: Images of the Byzantine World. Visions, Messages and Meanings. Studies Presented to Leslie Brubaker. Ed. by A. L. Aldershot, 2011, 47–56, 55. H. D. L. Exégèse médiévale: le quatre sens de l’Ecriture. Paris, 1959. This kind of label is not, however, uncontroversial. See the disagreement of P, Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought of the Eighth and Ninth Centuries, see n. 29, 21, and, in this volume, the qualifications by W.-M. Stock regarding Pseudo-Dionysios’ ‘Neoplatonism’, that had a huge impact on Byzantine thought.

Transcendent Exemplarism and Immanent Realism in the Philosophical Work of John of Damaskos∗ Alberto del Campo Echevarría Introduction Certainly, it has been said that John of Damaskos († 749) takes philosophy as an ancilla theologiae.1 In his own words: “but it is proper for the queen to be served by many slaves”;2 the queen of course being theology, and one of the slaves being philosophy itself. Even more clearly, attention has been drawn to the fact that the theologian from Damaskos lacks originality, because it is true that he borrows from the Patristic tradition and also, through it, from the Neoplatonic one.3 But the fact is that he did not wish to reach any original doctrine, neither in theology nor in metaphysics, because he, in troubled and difficult times for Christianity,4 was still fighting against heresy – in particular, Iconoclasm – and as a consequence was only concerned with the importance of clearly defining theological terminology.5 For this reason, we should not misinterpret his words “I shall, as I said, say nothing of my own” as a lack of originality, but as a determined attitude of Christian traditionalism.6 ∗

1 2 3

4

5 6

I thank the Universidad San Damaso for supporting my participation in the 22nd International Congress of Byzantine Studies “Byzantium without Borders” of the Bulgarian Association of Byzantinists and Medievists & Association Internationale des Études Byzantines at the University of Sofia “St. Kliment Ohridski” in Sofia, Bulgaria, 22–27 August 2011; I also give many thanks to Dr. Sergei Mariev (Ludwig-Maximilians-Universität, München) and Dr. Juan Signes Codoñer (Universidad de Valladolid, Spain). B. S. Die theologische Arbeitsweise des Johannes von Damaskus. Ettal, 1956, 103. J  D, Capita philosophica 1, 57–58: “πρέπει δὲ καὶ τῇ βασιλίδι ἄβραις τισὶν ὑπηρετεῖσθαι”. A. S. Il pensiero filosofico di Giovanni di Damasco nella critica. Aevum 51 (1977), 349– 383; S, Die theologische Arbeitsweise des Johannes von Damaskus, see n. 1, 124; G. R. Die Dialektik des Johannes von Damaskos: eine Untersuchung des Textes nach seinen Quellen und seiner Bedeutung. Ettal, 1964, 243, 260. These statements have been challenged by the more pertinent judgements of later and better philosophically informed scholars such as P, O and K. V. K-C. La ‘Fonte della conoscenza’ tra conservazione e creazione. In: Giovanni di Damasco. Un padre al sorgere dell’Islam. Atti del XIII Convegno Ecumenico Internazionale di spiritualità ortodossa. Sezione Bizantina. Bose, 11-13 settembre 2005. Ed. by S. C and L. C. Magnano, 2006, 177–203, 195. A. S. Giovanni di Damasco. La funzione della ‘Dialectica’. Perugia, 1978, 53. J  D, Expositio fidei “Προοίμιον - ᾿Επιστολή”, 60: “ἐρῶ δὲ ἐμὸν, ὡς ἔφην, οὐδέν”; cf S, Die theologische Arbeitsweise des Johannes von Damaskus, see n. 1, 20.

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Alberto del Campo Echevarría

Moreover, the instrumental use of philosophy that we find in John of Damaskos is far from being a negation of its value. Indeed, the attention paid to it by the Damascene is much broader and more systematic than in the earlier Fathers such as, for example, Anastasius Sinaites. This attitude towards philosophy is so positive that many scholars have been led to recognize in it a “per se” or quasiautonomous consideration of philosophy as well as a the optimal introductory way to his systematic theology.7 At other times his most philosophical work, that is, Capita philosophica, also known as Dialectica, has been seen as a sort of manual about logic, not only prescribed as a weapon against heresy but even as a means of “intellectual education” in accordance with the cultural environment of his time,8 that was to lead to the front hall of Byzantine philosophy and theology, both of which start with Photios, a century later.

Two ways in which Ideas are interpreted, a historic turning point for metaphysics Meanwhile, in this positive new approach to philosophy, the instrumental use of the Platonic theory of ideas survives in the philosophical works of John of Damaskos, although not, of course, coming directly from Plato, but through the reformulations of Neoplatonists (the Alexandrian commentators and Stephen of Alexandria), and Church Fathers (the Codex Oxoniensis and Severos of Antioch).9 As to the way in which that theory is interpreted, we shall begin by remembering the evidence of L and so reminding that, as a result of the theological attraction which most theologians felt towards the notion of a common nature (φύσις), rather than the abstract essence (τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι) or universal (κοινόν) of the Aristotelians, realism was much more successful in Christian philosophy than was conceptualism in the Neoplatonic school of Alexandria.10 That is to say, mainly due to the Christian theological conception of the unique and real “common nature” of Trinity as it was defended by the Cappadocians but also due to the 7

8 9 10

For the first, cf. K. O. Die Dialektik des Johannes Damaskenos. In: Antike Philosophie und Byzantinisches Mittelalter. Aufsätze zur Geschichte des griechischen Denkens. Ed. by K. O. München, 1969, 287–299, 295–297; G. K. Philosophie in Byzanz. Würzburg, 2005, 113; for the second, cf. K-C, La ‘Fonte della conoscenza’ tra conservazione e creazione, see n. 4, 186 and 189; G. D. M. L’incarnazione del Verbo e il suo significato nella teologia del Damasceno. In: Giovanni di Damasco. Un padre al sorgere dell’Islam. Atti del XIII Convegno Ecumenico Internazionale di spiritualità ortodossa. Sezione Bizantina. Bose, 11–13 settembre 2005. Ed. by S. C and L. C. Magnano, 2006, 125–176, 161. S, Giovanni di Damasco. La funzione della ‘Dialectica’, see n. 5, 261. K. O. Aristoteles in Byzanz. In: Antike Philosophie und Byzantinisches Mittelalter. Aufsätze zur Geschichte des griechischen Denkens. Ed. by K. O. München, 1969, 272–286, 283. A. C. L. The Anatomy of Neoplatonism. Oxford, 2005, 70.

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Christian conception of the world as having been created by God with resort to exemplars which correspond to each kind of creature, universals, renamed as “natures”, were to be interpreted as objective realities, and so, although with required cautions, according to the philosophical direction of Platonic realism. In the broad sense, philosophical “realism” is said to interpret universals as having objective and real consistency, and can be specified as “transcendent”, if their consistency is said to be founded above the material world, as well as “immanent”, if their consistency is founded on the material world. Although genuine Aristotelian philosophy is a particular way of reading Plato’s doctrine in agreement with most of his Academic metaphysics, there were, however, historical cases in which a psychological and logical interpretation excelled the metaphysical and the physical one. It was in this philosophical direction that conceptualism emerged as a new way for universals to be interpreted far from the Platonic transcendent realism and far too from the genuine Aristotelian immanent realism, having therefore consequences of its own for physics. To that effect, philosophical “conceptualism” is said to interpret universals as having subjective consistency, and, depending on the sense in which we understand subjectivity, can be specified by many adjectives, as for example “realistic”, “logical”, “terminological”, “nominal” or merely “vocal”. On the one hand, since the Cappadocian Fathers and, before them, John of Damaskos himself, assumed transcendent realism in order to work out the ontological constitution of the Trinity, all of them theologically interpreted the universal (κοινόν) as a real and unique nature (φύσις) so that it can be predicated as unus deus realis of each Person of the Trinity.11 It must remain clear that, in accordance with this emphasis on realism which comes about on the transcendent plane of the Trinity, John of Damaskos takes a step forward from John Philoponos’ classic conceptualism to reinforce immanent realism,12 which is to be considered as the consequent physical effect of the exemplarist theology of creation founded in the basis of transcendent realism. On the other hand, as the former kind of realism, the immanent one, is linked with a particular conception of οὐσία which, considering the status of the individual as a complex of accidents (συμπλοκῇ τῶν συμβεβηκότων),13 conceals the Aristotelian dependence of first substance on second substance, it is not taken by John of Damaskos in absolute terms, and, consequently, should be interpreted by us as being compatible with psychological and logical conceptualism.14 Here, in contrast to what happened in his Trinitarian theology, to a certain extent he adopts the assumptions of Alexander of Aphrodisias,15 to be precise, those 11 12 13 14 15

J  D, Expositio fidei, 8, 223–265. L, see n. 10, 73; Simplikios, In Aristotelis Categorias commentarium 75. J  D, Capita philosophica 21, 9; 67, 4–7. J  D, Capita philosophica 8, 1–11. H. S. Selbständigkeit und Einfachheit. Zur Substanztheorie des Aristoteles. Frankfurt

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Alberto del Campo Echevarría

which were to be followed afterwards by the Alexandrian John Philoponos.16 In fact, according to the simplified analysis of immanent world pursued by the Damascene, the universal (κοινόν), is taken as a synonym of form (μορφή) and essence (οὐσία).17 According to this evidence, the two main metaphysical trends, that of realism – whether transcendent or immanent – and that of conceptualism, can be found in the philosophical work of John of Damaskos. This fact has been regarded as evidence that the author is lacking in consistency,18 partly due to the historical requirement for accounting for both the traditions in which Aristotelian terminology had been interpreted, in different but closely-linked senses: in the first place, that of “the philosophers from outside” (οἱ ἔξω φιλόσοφοι), i.e. the pagan philosophical tradition; in the second place, that of the “Holy Fathers” (οἱ ἅγιοι πατέρες), presented by John of Damaskos as “the disciples and masters of truth and real philosophy”.19 However, if we remained at this level of interpretation, still it might be said that, at the very least, there would be an unresolved ambiguity between realism and conceptualism in the philosophical work of John of Damaskos, being based respectively on Patristic theology and Alexandrian Neoplatonic metaphysics. But it should be noted that Aristotelian terminology was transferred into Christian theology only after having been defined within the Neoplatonic frame that unifies both traditions, and this is the one we preeminently find in the philosophical works of the Damascene. It is nevertheless true that, when reading them, we find such problematic difficulties as differences between definitions and even contradictory statements about one and the same object. In order to overcome these problems, the character of the writings as a compilation, and the impersonal authorship of the Damascene have been adduced.20

16 17 18 19 20

am Main, 1991, 236, n. 1. Nevertheless, the assumption of “individual forms” by Alexander is questioned by De universalibus et Trinitate: Un texte proto-byzantin sur les universaux et la Trinité. In: L’héritage aristotélicien. Textes inédits de l’Antiquité. Ed. by M. R. Paris, 2007, 365–377, 5, n. 27 and 40–41, 82–83, 238–239, 324–327; 246–250. J P, In Aristotelis libros De anima commentaria 307, 33–35. J  D, Institutio elementaris 1, 1 and 2, 7; Capita philosophica 31, 24–25. S, Die theologische Arbeitsweise des Johannes von Damaskus, see n. 1, 110, 114, n. 54, 123; R, see n. 3, 232, 243, 254, n. 626. J  D, Capita philosophica 31, 10–11: “οἱ τῆς ἀληθείας καὶ τῆς ὄντως φιλοσοφίας μαθηταὶ καὶ διδάσκαλοι”. S, Die theologische Arbeitsweise des Johannes von Damaskus, see n. 1, 120; O, Die Dialektik des Johannes Damaskenos, see n. 7, 296; G. P. Theologie und Philosophie in Byzanz. Der Streit um die theologische Methodik in der spätbyzantinischen Geistesgeschichte (14/15 Jh.), seine systematischen Grundlagen und seine historische Entwicklung. Byzantinisches Archiv, 15. München, 1977, 104; more recently, K-C, La ‘Fonte della conoscenza’ tra conservazione e creazione, see n. 4, 187.

Transcendent Exemplarism and Immanent Realism

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In addition to this, if we pay attention to the way in which the Platonic theory of ideas is recast by John of Damaskos, we shall be able to see that his own view on it represents a very meaningful point in the historic evolution that thought underwent in Christian theology. His interpretation should not, therefore, be taken, either exclusively or absolutely, as inconsistency on the part of the author. On the contrary, if we consider his work as a whole, we shall be obliged to recognize in it a real achievement of bringing together both traditions. From this perspective, John of Damaskos’ work certainly marks a turning point between two different metaphysical conceptions. Despite the transcendent and immanent conversion from conceptualism to realism it has been brought up, it is true, we also find in the Damascene an emphasis on the hypostatic constitution of individuals, which will serve as a precedent for a return to the “realistic conceptualism” that characterises Byzantine philosophers in general terms.21 It is remarkable that this is a kind of conceptualism in which, thanks to the Stoic and Neoplatonic influence, universals, though primarily understood as concepts, and not simply as transcendent or immanent realities, do have and always maintain its objectivity, so that this point of view is incompatible with nominalism.22 The Byzantines, beginning with Photios and following with Michael Psellos, discovered “nominalism”, but never attached themselves to it, because of their Christian theological standpoint.23 This is not the case of John of Damaskos, according to whom universals, even if also general objective concepts, are still directly related to the theological exemplarism both of the philosophical tradition of the Alexandrian commentators on Aristotle’s ‘organon’ and Porphyry’s Isagoge and of the Patristic one which includes such Neoplatonic theologians as Clement of Alexandria, Origenes, Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites and Maximos Homologetes, a fact that was to be rejected by all the mentioned Byzantine polymaths. This double kind of exemplarism, philosophical and theological, and not a mere coincidence with Aristotle, is the reason which accounts for the immanent realism that is also to be found in the Damascene, thanks to the fact that the latter is the ontological effect of the former. It is, then, too simple and only a 21

22

23

L. G. B. Τὸ πρόβλημα τῶν γενικῶν ἐννοιῶν καὶ ὁ ἐννοιολογικὸς ῥεαλισμὸς τῶν βυζαντινῶν. Philosophia 8–9 (1978–1979), 311–340, 312; A. D C E. La teoría de las Ideas en Bizancio (siglos IX-XI). Madrid, 2012, 27, 31, 265, 296, 331, 347; A. D C E. La indagación filosófica bizantina acerca de los universales. Erytheia 33 (2012), 57–86, 61, n. 1, 73–75, 79, 83. B, Τὸ πρόβλημα τῶν γενικῶν ἐννοιῶν καὶ ὁ ἐννοιολογικὸς ῥεαλισμὸς τῶν βυζαντινῶν, see n. 21, 328, n. 36; L, see n. 10, 71–72; D. J. Eustratios of Nicaea’s ‘Definition of Being’ Revisited. In: Medieval Greek Commentaries on the Nicomachean Ethics. Ed. by C. B and D. J. Leiden and Boston, 2009, 111–130, 111, 129. P, Amphilochia 77, 178–184; M P, ᾿Επιτάφιος εἰς ᾿Ιωάννην τὸν Ξιφιλῖνον, 456, 1–3, cit. apud L. G. B. Βυζαντινή φιλοσοφία. Κείμενα και μελέτες. Athena, 2002, 409.

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Alberto del Campo Echevarría

partial true to interpret John of Damaskos’ philosophical general position as a mere accordance with the Aristotelian ontology of Categoriae, as if in the philosophical “spectacles” contained in the “philosophically respectable” work of the “universally respected John Damascene”24 there were nothing but “a world of hypostases”.25 In order to appreciate his philosophical work as an influential model for that of the Byzantines, it is important to consider the fact that the Damascene’s tendency towards conceptualism that is implied in his conception of the ὑπόστασις provides the basis for the inversion of Platonic metaphysics which is to be found in many of them. According to John of Damaskos, besides the already mentioned equation between “οὐσία”, “φύσις” and “μορφή”,26 “οὐσία” is too identified with the individual itself, or at least with its substratum, once it has been defined as hypostasis. In effect, the basis we are referring to is the interpretation of “οὐσία” as “ὑποκείμενον” and “αὐθύπαρκτον”, which John of Damaskos carries out while he follows the conceptualist hermeneutics of Alexander of Aphrodisias on the corpus aristotelicum.27 It is not surprising that, in Photios, Arethas of Kaisareia as well as in Michael Psellos we find an echo – albeit critical – of the treatment that John of Damaskos gives in his consideration of the “οὐσία” as being both “ὑποκείμενον” and “αὐθύπαρκτον”.28 Moreover, this doctrine is to be found perfectly accomplished in John Italos, particularly in his explicit interpretation of the immanent form as a material, singular and particular being which in fact turns out to coincide with the same individual of which it is the figure or aspect.29 This is not, however, an original thesis, because its roots go back as far as to the interpolated texts of the first century b. C. subscribed to Ps.-Archytas of Tarentos; it is, however, the Pa24 25 26 27

28 29

L, see n. 10, 73–74. C. E. A World of Hypostases. John of Damascus’ Rethinking of Aristotle’s Categorical Ontology. Studia Patristica 50 (2011), 269–287, 269, 273, 281, 283, 285 and 286–287. Cf. note 16 on p. 130 above. J  D, Capita philosophica (recensio brevior) 1, 14–15: “ἡ μὲν γὰρ οὐσία ὑποκείμενον ἐστιν ὣσπερ ὓλη τῶν πραγμάτων” [“so, certainly, the substance is the substratum just as the matter of things”];J  D, Capita philosophica 1, 6–7, 57–58: “οὐσία ἐστὶ πρᾶγμα αὐθύπαρκτον μὴ δεόμενον ἑτέρου πρός σύστασιν ἤγουν τὸ ἐν ἑαυτῷ ὂν καὶ μὴ ἐν ἑτέρῳ ἔχον τὴν ὕπαρξιν” [“the substance is a thing which exists by itself without needing any other one for its consistency or rather it is the being which has its existence in itself, not in any other one”]. These passages are neglected by E, see n. 25, 281, when he writes: “‘Ousia’ then refers only to the specific (and occasionally generic) essence, and not substantial individual entity which is referred to by ‘hypostasis’. In consequence, what John means by ousia is only Aristotle’s secondary substance”. Cf. etiam J  D, Institutio elementaris 1, 12: “ἔτι δὲ καὶ πᾶν κτίσμα θεοῦ οὐσία ἐστί” [“and even so, every Creature of God is a substance”]. P, Amphilochia 138, 28–29; A, Scholia in Porphyrii ‘Isagogen’ 23; M P, Opuscula logica, Physica, allegorica, alia 52, 95–99. J I, Quaestiones quodlibetales 52, 70, 37–71, 2: “τὰ δὲ ἐν τοῖς πολλοῖς [. . . ] καὶ μερικά τε ἐστι καὶ ἄτομα” [“the universals which are in the multitute [. . . ] are as much particular as individual”].

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tristic tradition of Athanasios of Alexandria, Leontios of Byzantium, and Maximos Homologetes the one which is linked with the Damascene.30 In any case, this inflection of terms going from immanent realism into conceptualism occurs without causing any clear break in the historical continuity of the Platonic tradition, due to recourse to a common terminology and, more decisively, to the metaphysical structuring of reality, which just survives in it.31 So, as a first point to be definitely established, we think – as O did – that, due to the elements of historical inflection mentioned above, it is proper to recognize the existence of an original refoundation of Neoplatonic philosophy contained in writings like Institutio elementaris, Capita philosophica and even Expositio fidei.32 In fact, this personal and original philosophy has the additional historical value of serving as a real nexus between the Alexandrian philosophy of the Aristotelian commentators and the Greek Patristics, on the one hand, and Byzantine philosophers as a whole, on the other.

The henological structuring of reality Like Maximos Homologetes, John of Damaskos embraces the definition of God as “ὑπερούσιος οὐσία” which Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites had already formulated, borrowing from the natural theology of Plato, Porphyry and Proklos.33 This theological subject finds a philosophical parallel in the actual henological structuring of the ontological categories of the Aristotelian tradition, which John of Damaskos indirectly inherits from the Neoplatonic commentators of Alexandria, by way of Christian recasts such as that contained in the so called Codex Oxoniensis and, perhaps, in others composed by authors such as Stephanos of Alexandria and Severos of Antioch.34 30

31 32 33

34

P.-A  T, Fragmenta, 3, 12–15; A  A, Liber de definitionibus, PG 28, 544A; M H, Expositio orationis dominicae, 453–456, 27–28; A S, Doctrina patrum (fort. auctore Anastasio Sinaïta vel Anastasio Apocrisiario), 44, 24; 192, 1. P. F. Infrastructures philosophiques de la théodicée de Jean Damascene. Revue des Sciences philosophiques et théologiques 69 (1985), 361–387, 362. O, Die Dialektik des Johannes Damaskenos, see n. 7, 296. P, Respublica VI 509b; P, In Platonis Parmenidem commentaria 2, 10; Sententiae ad intelligibilia ducentes 10, 4, 4; B  C, Orationes sive exorcismi, PG 31, 1684A; P.-D A, De divinis nominibus I 1, (110, 6); M H, Ambigua I 7, PG 8, 91, 1085B; J  D, Institutio elementaris 1, 9 and 12, 21; for the accordance between the pagan and the Christian use of this expression, cf. S. L. PseudoDenys l’Aréopagite, Porphyre et Damascius. In: Denys l’Aréopagite et sa postérité en Orient et en Occident. Actes du Colloque International. Paris, 21-24 septembre 1994. Ed. by Y. D A. Paris, 1997, 117–154, 126. S, Giovanni di Damasco. La funzione della ‘Dialectica’, see n. 5, 74–75; R, see n. 3, 59.

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In his Institutio elementaris, one and the same term, “οὐσία”, takes, on the one hand, the value of genus generalissimum – i.e. the most universal genus, with the maximum of extension and the minimum of intention; and, on the other hand, it also takes the value of “being”, in the sense of the mere condition of being. As genus generalissimum, “οὐσία” is the metaphysical origin of the subalternate genera and species, which are constituted by the application of the specific difference to the nearest genus, in such a way that the difference itself comes to be an ontological constituent, and that the Platonic assumption of a fundamentum in rebus of the universal itself proves to be validated. However, if we pass to Capita philosophica, the equivocal rendering of “οὐσία” both as genus generalissimum and as the general notion of “being” that occurred in Institutio elementaris is established as follows: “οὐσία” continues to signify the genus generalissimum, but the abstract and equivocal sense of “being” is now translated by “τὸ ὄν”.35 In order to emphasize the importance acquired by the ontological process of genera and species starting from the genus generalissimum of “οὐσία” in both Institutio elementaris and Capita philosophica, it should be pointed out that in the former work, John of Damaskos establishes the inverse process by means of the explanation of induction, which starts from the species specialissimae stated in the Old Testament book of Genesis.36

Transcendent realism and exemplarism Within this metaphysical structuring of reality, we find various kinds of realism which show how far the theological and philosophical system of John of Damaskos is committed to Platonism. First, we have transcendent realism; second, immanent realism, which, contrary to what had been said by Alexander of Aphrodisias and Philoponos, is considered by John of Damaskos as being compatible with conceptualism. The transcendent realism of the Damascene is displayed by many aspects. First of all, not by the acknowledgement of an existing intelligible world (νοητὸς κόσμος) – that would be a Philonic or later Neoplatonic assumption – ,37 but by the acknowledgement of an authentic intelligible location, which he mentions precisely with the Platonic expression of “νοητὸς τόπος”.38 In particular, says John of Damaskos: “there is also an intelligible location” in which God’s “intelligible and 35 36 37 38

J  D, Institutio elementaris 10, 84–90. J  D, Capita philosophica 7, 63–64. P  A, De opificio mundi 15, 4; P, Enn. II 4, 4; III 4, 3. P, Respublica VI 509d and 517b.

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incorporeal nature is thought and exists”.39 With this statement, as well as linking the praedicamenta of incorporeal and immaterial, John of Damaskos acknowledges the plain existence of the “intelligible location” where Plato himself locates Ideas and assigns it, beyond the category of space, to God, who is uncircumscribable and, therefore, cannot be said to be in any place. Once the location of the celestial God has been defined as intelligible, there remains the aim of specifying His nature. Being sure to avoid the tritheism of John Philoponos, and following the Platonic tendency of the Trinitarian theology of the Cappadocian Fathers, the Damascene states the reality of the nature which is common (τὸ κοινόν καὶ ἕν, τὸ ταὐτὸν τῆς οὐσίας) to the three hypostases of the Trinity, stressing the fact that in that nature there exists a real identity between essence and existence; and that is because it can really be thought of as if it were a thing (πράγματι θεωρεῖται). If the nature common to the three hypostases of Trinity is real, and if it has existence in an absolute manner, each Trinitarian hypostasis, far from representing an autonomous and independent reality, will have to be differently known by means of such philosophical categories as causality (τὸ αἴτιον), perfection (τὸ τέλειον) or the modality of being or existing (τὸν τῆς ὑπάρξεως τρόπον) of that unique divine essence which is shared.40 On the other hand, John of Damaskos, using a selective criterion, incorporates the most Neoplatonic passages from the mystic theology of Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites. This is the case of the double concept of God as a “supraessential Being” (ὑπερούσιος οὐσία) and as a Being per se (αὐτοουσία).41 As a supraessential Being, God is beyond all the categories, all the properties and qualities which He creates, causes and illuminates, as was the case with the Platonic Idea of Good and the other Ideas. The fact that, as well as a supraessential Being, God may be conceived of as a Being per se reinforces this opinion. Since the per se Being of God assures the objectivity of all the transcendent and pure properties, it can be defined by means of a real identity with them. This is the reason why, even when he goes beyond the principle of noncontradiction, John of Damaskos does not hesitate to explain Ps.-Dionysios’ definition of God as Being per se through the identity between a supraessential Being and the transcendent determinations of intellectual Light (φῶς νοερόν), Light in itself (αὐτοφῶς), Goodness in itself (αὐτοαγαθότης) and Life in itself (αὐτοζωή).42 Once the supraessential Being can be defined by these transcendent properties, 39 40 41 42

J  D, Expositio fidei 13, 7–10: “ἔστι δὲ καὶ νοητὸς τόπος, ἔνθα νοεῖται καὶ ἔστιν ἡ νοητὴ καὶ ἀσώματος φύσις”. J  D, Expositio fidei 8, 223–265. J  D, Expositio fidei 8, 17–18. J  D, Expositio fidei 12b, 20–24.

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God’s creatures have to show them both really and immanently. It is in this way that a real analogy between creator and creatures has been established. At this stage, the Damascene substitutes the Platonic criterion of ἐπωνυμία, which allowed Plato to postulate de iure the existence of an idea, whenever there is de facto a name with an univocal semantic reference, for the Judaeo-Christian criterion of the theology of creation, in which God institutes the species of each creature by means of an order (προστάγματι) and so by their corresponding names. It is in this sense that we must understand his assertion that “everything which was generated by an order of God belongs to a genus”.43 This is why the names of creatures allow us to know their immanent nature, and it is the transcendent properties themselves which let us catch a glimpse of God’s essence, even when, in principle, this is supraessential. The substitution of the linguistic criterion for the theological which has been alluded to thus introduces the characteristic voluntarism of the Judaeo-Christian theology of creation into the midst of Platonic metaphysics. John of Damaskos reinforces his tendency towards voluntarism by the dynamic concept of nature which had been established as one of the keystones of his creationist exemplarism. According to this dynamic concept, a certain nature, once specified by the essential and constitutive differences of each case, provides the individual with the activity or with the movement proper to its corresponding species.44 Such a dynamic concept of nature not only serves him to reinforce the voluntaristic characterisation of the creationist exemplarism, but also to lay its foundations on one of the elements which is to be found in Expositio fidei as a nexus responsible for the close relation observed between transcendent realism, immanent realism and conceptualism. The Patristic reduction of ideas brought about through the equation between οὐσία, φύσις and μορφή, as well as the dynamic concept of individual nature, serves to make up the voluntaristic exemplarism that, incidentally, demanded the same desubstantiation of ideas as was implied in that equivalence. Therefore, we should not be surprised by the fact that, having christianised the Philonic postulate of a double phased existence of ideas, John of Damaskos states that God “creates by thinking” (κτίζει δὲ ἐννοῶν).45 In the same way, it will easily be understood that he interprets Ideas according to providentialism as “predeterminations” (προορισμοί), and reinforces their ontological desubstantiation by means of his original identity between exemplar and image which we find in his theological study of sacred icons. This point, which in itself might enable us to talk about a henological structuring of John’s metaphysics, fits harmonically with the acceptance of other theological 43 44 45

J  D, Institutio elementaris 7, 63–64: “πάντα, ὅσα ἑνὶ προστάγματι θεοῦ ἐγένοντο, ἑνός γένους εἰσίν”. J  D, Capita philosophica 13, 1–9. J  D, Expositio fidei 16, 5–8.

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theses related to providentialism which we find accurately and concisely stated in the next passage:46 ἐθεάσατο γὰρ ὁ θεὸς «τὰ πάντα πρὶν γενέσεως αὐτῶν» ἀχρόνως ἐννοήσας καὶ ἕκαστον κατὰ τὴν θελητικὴν αὐτοῦ ἄχρονον ἔννοιαν, ἥτις ἐστι προορισμὸς καὶ εἰκὼν καὶ παράδειγμα, ἐν τῷ προορισθέντι καιρῷ γίνεται.

For God beheld “all things before their comingto-be”, having thought of them timelessly, and each one according to His willed timeless concept, which is a predetermination and an image and an exemplar, comes to be at the foreordained moment.

We are here face to face in front of a text of great importance for the philosophical doctrine of the theological use of Neoplatonic exemplarism. Particularly in account of this text, during so much time John of Damaskos has been considered as if he had borrowed from Ps.-Cyril of Alexandria,47 but recent investigation based on the manuscript transmission of the text has revealed John of Damaskos to be the original thinker who settled, with his characteristic terminological accuracy and discernment, the current disposition of its terms.48 If, then, the Damascene is the original auctor of the texts that have been until now traditionally considered as composed by Ps.-Cyril of Alexandria, also such a fundamental Christological thesis as that of the “perichoresis” of the two natures in the hypostasis of Christ, the Divine and the Human one, should definitively be counted as an extraordinary merit of the former.49 The philosophical importance of the adduced text resides in the fact that his auctor, John of Damaskos, carries out a manifold procedure in order to get the pagan exemplarism – still apparent in the wording of “ἐννοήσας [. . . ] ἄχρονον 46

47

48

49

J  D, Capita philosophica 9, 17–20; we do not follow the punctuation of this edition, but that of PG 94, 837A, because it fits better with which we find even in K’s text of John of Damaskos, Contra imaginum calumniatores 3, 19, 5–6: “ἐν τῷ προορισθέντι ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ καιρῷ γίνεται”, without comma. I thank Joseph A. Munitiz de Minondo for his attentive help in this translation. P.-C  A, De Sacrosancta Trinitate XI, PG 77, 1145C, 4–1145D, 2; cf. B. F-J. Un traité anonyme de la Sainte Trinité attribué a Saint Cyrille d’Alexandrie. Recherches de Science Religieuse 49 (1961), 188–211, 189, n. 5 and 201; this is the criterion accepted by K for his apparatus criticus; B. S. Giovanni Damasceno. In: Patrologia. Vol V. Dal Concilio di Calcedonia (451) a Giovanni Damasceno († 750). I Padri orientali. Ed. by A. D B. Genova, 2000, 233–242, 239 does not pronunce on the subject. V. K-C. Pseudo-Cyril’s De Trinitate. A Compilation of Joseph the Philosopher. Orientalia Christaiana Periodica 61 (1995), 117–129, 119, 124 and 127; in agreement with her, A. L. St. John Damascene. Tradition and Originality in Byzantine Theology. Oxford, 2005, 87–88. K-C, La ‘Fonte della conoscenza’ tra conservazione e creazione, see n. 4, 186 and 189.

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ἔννοιαν” – adapted within the limits of a Christian orthodox point of view. First, he follows Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites when he lays the foundation of the theology of creation on the basis of the providentialism contained in the Old Testament book of Susanna, when he quotes “all things before the creation of them”.50 Second, he qualifies the noetic timeless concept whereby God creates each creature with the Christian as “voluntary” (θελητική), drawing on the Christian theological tradition that emphasizes voluntarism over intellectualism.51 Third, in order to reinforce this, the same timeless God’s concept of each future creature is also referred to as a predetermination (προορισμός) of the latter.52 In addition to these three theological ways of setting up the link between providentialism and exemplarism, in the very same passage we have quoted there is a fourth one which seems to be provided with the deepest philosophical value. We are referring to the alluded equation between “exemplar” (παράδειγμα) and “image” (εἰκών). Although Plato himself and the Neoplatonic Ammonios of Hermeias (5th c.) had referred the ideas as images,53 this equation is always to be reasonably perceived as an inversion of the genuine ontology of Plato.54 In the case of John of Damaskos we have also to consider the Judaeo-Christian theological tradition which, having its basis on the Old Testament book of Genesis, begins with Philo of Alexandria and Paul of Tarsos, follows with Ps.-Dionysios Areopagites and reaches to the very precedent of John of Damaskos, i.e., Maximos Homologetes.55 Considering that, in this Christian context, the word “εἰκών” is used precisely in the same, albeit creationist, instrumental sense of the pagan Neoplatonic exemplarist version of the Platonic “ἰδέα” which came to signify the word “παράδειγμα”, and considering the alliance of both traditions accomplished by the Damascene, we are allowed to conclude that his philosophical position may be seen as Neoplatonic as Christian: without the explicit rejection of the pagan and even of the Patristic exemplarism that we find in the subsequent Byzantine thinkers, John of Damaskos 50 51 52

53 54

55

See the recurrence to Susanna (translatio Graeca) 35a and to Susanna (Theodotionis versio) 42 in P.-D A, De divinis nominibus VII 2 (196, 16–21). Ps. 110, 2; P  T, Epistula ad Ephesios 1, 5; M H, Ambigua I 7, PG 8, 91, 1085A. P  T, Epistula ad Ephesios 1, 5; M H, Ambigua I 7, PG 8, 91, 1085A; A  A, De incarnatione contra Apollinarium II, PG 26, 1136A, 26; P.-D A, De divinis nominibus V 8 (188, 8). P, Kratylos 418e; Sophistes 266c; A  H, In Porphyrii ‘Isagogen’ sive quinque voces 41, 20–42, 26. P, In Platonis Parmenidem 816, 33; J P, In Aristotelis ‘Analytica posteriora’ commentaria 243, 21–25; M P, Scholium in Procli Commentarium in Platonis Parmenidem, 259. Genesis 1, 11 and 26; P  A, De confusione linguarum 147, 1; De fuga et inventione 101, 3; De opificio mundi 25; Legum allegoriarum libri III 96, 4–5; P  T, Epistula ad Colossenses 1, 15–16.

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cannot but still keep himself linked to it, although with the precaution of having reduced the ontological status of the Platonic “παράδειγμα” by means of its equation with the Judaeo-Christian “εἰκών”. The ambiguous but well-balanced sense of this terminological equation is the one to which John of Damaskos appeals again in his orations on sacred images,56 even when, at the same time, in order to refute the charge of idolatry directed by iconoclasts against veneration of sacred icons, he carefully establishes a marked distinction between the prototype (πρωτότυπος) which is depicted in an icon and the painted image (εἰκών) of it.57 We thus see that, in the theology of creation of John of Damaskos, there survives, christianised by voluntarism and desubstantiated by the imaginative interpretation of the exemplars, the Medioplatonic exemplarism which had already been useful in the context of the first Patristic theology. The same may be said about the Neoplatonic doctrine of the intelligibles, which is to be found in the angelology of the last Father of the Church. Angels are defined as intellectual rational nature (φύσις λογικὴ νοερά), and insofar as this is true they can be referred to as intelligibles (νοητά).58 Corresponding to this definition of angels there emerges their qualification as incorporeal and immaterial entities. Nevertheless, John of Damaskos characterises this kind of intelligibles in a quite different way than it is usual in Neoplatonic metaphysics, where they are absolutely incorporeal and immaterial. It is well known that, in the authentic Christian view, matter is also created by God, and to this extent cannot be bad. This is why the kind of intelligibles represented by Christian angels affords them some corporeal and material consistency. In this sense, for John of Damaskos the immateriality of angels is only such in relation to human hypostases, being these composed both of form and matter; whereas the same angels, in relation to the absolute immaterial nature of God, prove to be something coarse and material (παχὺ τε καὶ ὑλικόν).59 In addition to this, angelic intelligibles, in spite of their relatively immaterial nature, are creatures. To that extent, they have been created by means of the appropriate image (κατ’ οἰκείαν εἰκόνα), without having as a consequence the creative faculties which, in the Neoplatonic philosophy of Syrianos, Asklepios and Proklos, are found in the intelligibles, once they have been rendered as “δημιουργικαὶ 56

57

58 59

J  D, “Περὶ εἰκόνων”, Expositio fidei 89, 5–6; Contra imaginum calumniatores I, 10 1–2; Contra imaginum calumniatores III, 19 1–12, ed. P. B. K. Die Schriften des Johannes von Damaskos. III. Contra imaginum calumniatores orationes tres. Berlin, 1975, 127. J  D, Contra imaginum calumniatores III, 16 1–14: even when here “παράδειγμα” is too equated to “εἰκών”, a clear distinction is established between “πρωτότυπος” and “εἰκών”; D. A. St. John of Damascus. On the Divine Images. Three Apologies against Those Who Attack the Divine Images. New York, 1980, 8–9. J  D, Expositio fidei 3, 24–32; Capita philosophica 48, 124–127. John of Damaskos, Expositio fidei, 17, 13.

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ἰδέαι”. The ontological status of being creatures, although providing the angels with the attribute of being incorruptible, prevents them from enjoying pure immutability; and this again breaks with the condition in which ideas are defined by the Platonic and by the later Neoplatonic schools, where they are primarily conceived as immutable. One wonders if the Damascene, considering the immaterial and incorporeal status of angels as relative and only partially reached, valuated human mutability as if it were axiologically superior than that which, according to him, also affects the Judaeo-Christian intelligibles, provided that only human hypostases have the opportunity of being redeemed by free graceful repentance of sins.

Immanent realism and conceptualism We have seen how transcendent realism has to do with the so called henological production of genera and species, with regard to the metaphysical movement of the intelligible reality, a species being produced from the application of the specific constitutive difference on the closest genus.60 But, insofar as this process takes place in any species designated as a “thing” (πρᾶγμα) and, particularly, the species specialissima being named as an “individual” (ἄτομον),61 this metaphysical process has also to do with immanent realism. On the one hand, the “pragmatic” – in the sense of real – consideration of species is to be found under the genus generalissimum, represented by the category of οὐσία and above the species specialissima, which comes into being in each case, and allows us to explain the way in which the intelligibles located just below God may form a system of procession in which the supraessential Being of God acts on the created world, and shows itself through the powers or energies of the system itself. On the other hand, the interpretation of the species specialissima as “individual” appears, at first sight, to deny the possibility of its being logically divided into further species – since otherwise it would be a genus, thus cancelling its status as specialissima. Despite this logical sense, the individual interpretation of the species specialissima inevitably bestows on it, on the basis of the realism already implied in the henological process, many aspects which account for its being described as a particular individual and a real entity. Another factor serving to reinforce the thesis of a commitment to immanent realism by John of Damaskos is his assertion of the identity between species (εἶδος) and actual being (ἐνέργεια).62 According to early Latin Scholasticism – later crit60 61 62

J  D, Capita philosophica 10, 190. J  D, Capita philosophica 12, 2 and 22; 11, 5. J  D, Capita philosophica 27, 7.

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icized both by Thomas Aquinas and Johannes Duns Scotus – , John of Damaskos tells us that, whereas the proprium (τὸ ἴδιον) can be both in act (ἐνεργείᾳ) and in potency (δυνάμει), “the species is always in act”.63 Thus, the creature, having been brought into being as an immaterial definite substance, and primarily identified with its essence, assumes the relative existence which is appropriate for it, by the graceful action of God. This identification – which is proposed in accordance with the already mentioned equation of εἶδος, μορφή and φύσις – is the origin of one of the most deleterious and well-known errors that, due to the pernicious influence of peripatetic philosophy, was suffered by many of the Latin creationist theologians. It was a consequence of having introduced into their own concept of the immanent nature constituting creatures the identity between essence and existence. Plato himself had used this in order to determine the particular form of the existence of ideas, and Aristotle too could not avoid authenticating and accepting it, since it is the main principle that, in his metaphysics of the first substance, grants ontological primacy to form over matter. Lastly, the existence in individuals of an immanent and real nature is compatible with a subordinated conceptualist interpretation of it, and therefore with conceptualism, which was to become the main trend of interpretation in the Byzantine period, although in John of Damaskos it is little more than a shadow.64 This compatibility is possible because the gnoseological abstraction of the concept drawn from immanent real nature is objectively recognized by induction as already existing in the individual, and not merely imagined on the basis of general appearances.

Conclusions However hard John of Damaskos insists on the hypostatic constitution of particular and individual beings, the fact that the Aristotelian priority of form over matter is still in force in John of Damaskos’ philosophical work, partly due to the Platonizing theological vindication of nature against merely abstract essence (not only with regard to exemplarism and physics but also logic and predication theory),65 we cannot interpret his general point about universals as conceptualism, but as transcendent and immanent realism. Immanent realism thus, as in the case of the Alexandrian commentators, has as its ascendant transcendent realism and as its descendant conceptualism, but never nominalism.66 63 64 65 66

Ibidem: “τὸ μὲν εἶδος ἀεὶ ἐνέργειᾳ”. A, De universalibus et Trinitate 2, 13 and 2, 20. “Οὐσία” as “ὑποκείμενον” and the equation between “εἶδος” and “ἐνέργεια”. L, see n. 10, 70 adversus B. N. T. La philosophie byzantine. Paris, 1959, 112 and 118.

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Nevertheless, it is precisely this compatibility between realism and his overshadowed conceptualism, because it still bears faint links to John Philoponos and Alexander of Aphrodisias,67 that may show John of Damaskos as an open door leading directly to the broad realistic conceptualism of all the Byzantines, with the likely exception of Plethon.

67

M. R. Essentialisme. Alexandre d’Aphrodisie entre logique, physique et cosmologie. Berlin, New York, 2007, 327.

‘Fire Walk With Me’:∗ an attempt at an interpretation of Theurgy and its Aesthetics Lutz Bergemann 1. κρεῖττων [. . . ] ἁπάσης ἀνθρωπίνης σωφροσύνης καὶ ἐπιστήμης – Approaching a difficult concept It is difficult to say unequivocally what “theurgy” is, or what we might today plausibly understand it to be. It is situated at an intersection in late antiquity, in which magic, religion, mystery cults, ritual practices and philosophy overlap and generate a variety of semantics. Is “theurgy” a system, a religious-magical way of thinking, or even a particular form of experience or consciousness?1 Proklos described it as “κρεῖττων [. . . ] ἁπάσης ἀνθρωπίνης σωφροσύνης καὶ ἐπιστήμης”.2 Theurgy in this case appears to be more than human insight, or the pursuit and achievement thereof. At the very least, therefore, we can say that we should not reduce it to its “theoretical content”, that is, to a framework of Platonic metaphysics and theory, but rather we should attempt to do justice to the complexity of this phenomenon on multiple levels. The attempt to define and understand what theurgy might have been thus needs a starting point, a hermeneutical arch¯e, as it were, out of which further argument can be developed. For the purpose of obtaining this arch¯e, we should note first that theurgy in many respects shares the practices and rituals of mystery cults that are far older in part than theurgy itself.3 Aristotle understood the essence of ritualistic practice in so far as humans do not learn something in or from these ∗

1

2

3

The title of a film by David Lynch. For the meaning of fire and light in connection with epiphanies of the divine Chaldaean Oracles see among others: S. I. J. Riders in the Sky: Cavalier Gods and Theurgic Salvation in the Second Century A. D. Classical Philology 87.4 (1992), 303–321, 315 with note 61 for further secondary literature. Cf. S. I. J. Theurgie. In: Der Neue Pauly: Enzyklopädie der Antike. Vol. 12/1. Stuttgadr and Weimar, 2002, 460–462 and in the Oxford Classical Dictionary as well as W.-M. S. Theurgisches Denken. Zur Kirchlichen Hierarchie des Dionysios Areopagita. Berlin, New York, 2008, 29–32, in particular 32. Proklos, Theol. Plat. I, 25; cf. T. S. Theurgie. In: Historisches Wörterbuch der Philosophie. Ed. by J. R, K. G, and G. G. Vol. 10. Basel, 1971–2007, 1180–1183, 1181; see likewise A. F. S. Hellenistic Magic. Some Questions of Definition. In: Studies in Gnosticism and Hellenistic Religions presented to Gilles Quispel on the Occasion of his 65th. Birthday. Ed. by R. van den B and M. J. V. Leiden, 1981, 349–375, 364f. Cf. S. I. J. Rising to the Occasion: Theurgic Ascent in Its Cultural Milieu. In: Envisioning Magic. A Princeton Seminar and Symposium. Ed. by P. S and H. G. K. Leiden, New York, and Köln, 1997, 165–194, 176.

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cults, but rather that cultic practices enable humans to experience something to be experienced.4 This means that theurgy, as these cults, is first of all to be understood as a form of religious and ritual practice of late antiquity, and as a specific form of religious experience which is reached by the theurgical practices and rituals. At this point it is necessary to further clarify the term “religious experience” and the methodical ways to approach it. K defines the status of the religious experience as follows: “There is no universal, paradigmatic type of ‘religious experience’. As in the case of aesthetic experience, any experience may be in principle a ‘religious experience’ if only it is valued as such. Religious experiences, like aesthetic experiences, are thus second-order experiences, constituted by our interpretations and judgements of primary phenomenal experiences of sound, sight, and so on, and of mental and abstract phenomena.”5 As a “second-order experience”, we encounter the religious experience as “enmeshed in culturally engendered regimes of interpretation” and thus as “culturally constructed”.6 Hermeneutical efforts on this level “should emphasize not so much the particular culminating experiences [i. e. the primary phenomenal experiences] that are characterized as ends as the ways in which experience is woven into the tissue of specific religious life-worlds [in the case of theurgy: the religious world of Late Antiquity]”.7 Consequently we must investigate, as tangible witnesses of these “ways in which experience is woven into the tissue of specific life-worlds”, the texts which are commonly ascribed to the phenomenon “theurgy”: as in my case the so-called Chaldaean Oracles and Iamblichos’ De Mysteriis. As a written and literary expression of an initially elusive “transmundane experience”8 or a “unified vision of all reality”,9 they are to be examined on the basis of their substantive content, their motives and status as texts 4

5 6

7 8 9

G. S. Divination in the Neoplatonism of Iamblichus. In: Mediators of the Divine. Horizons of Prophecy, Divination, Dreams and Theurgy in Mediterranean Antiquity. Ed. by R. M. B. Atlanta, 1998, 225–267, 191. M. T. K. Rethinking Religious Experience. In: The Presence of Light. Divine Radiance and Religious Experience. Ed. by M. T. K. Chicago, London, 2004, 265–299, 287. K, see n. 5, 276: “[. . . ] any meaningful discussion of experience, religious or otherwise, must concern itself with contentful and hence essentially effable experiences, experiences that may be engaged intersubjectively and so are not, in any relevant sense, private. [. . . ] questions regarding what kinds of experience we may attend to and treat as authoritative, and the ways and modes in which we may do so, are adjudicated not by individuals acting without any context or framework, but by communities of discourse, so that experience is enmeshed in culturally engendered regimes of interpretation and thus is in this sense culturally constructed.”; cf. also p. 281f. K, see n. 5, 284f. G. S. Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus. University Park, 1995, 222. J. B. Mystical Theology and Spiritual Experience in Proclus‘ Platonic Theology. In: Proclus et la Théologie Platonicienne (Actes du Colloque International de Louvain [13–16 mai 1998] En l’honneur de H. D. Saffrey et L. G. Westerink †. Ed. by A. P. S and C. S. Leuven and Paris, 2000, 291–310, 307, note. 31; cf. also P. A. Dreams, Theurgy

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in theurgic practice.10 This means we must consider initially what K labels “positive features as discursive constructions”,11 which become negotiable for the very reason of their expression in a philosophical-theological technical language. This approach can be supported by L’s observations on the hermeneutics of Neoplatonic texts: “The hypostases are experiences; they are types of consciousness. [. . . ] It follows that the element of personal experience is needed to complement the non-empirical philosophical system. The two together constitute Neoplatonism.”12 The hermeneutical process on the first level of investigation is limited in this differentiation to the analysis of the “nonempirical philosophical system” and its linguistic forms of expression. The phenomenon “theurgy” can on this level only be encircled or enclosed by the interpretation of texts. Thus the phenomenon vanishes behind a reconstruction that is always also a construction. What is essential remains ineffable – an ἄρρητον. Μαθεῖν is indeed no replacement for πάσχειν. But L’s observation also makes clear that something has been deficient thus far: so long as the “element of personal experience” remains unconsidered, texts such as the Chaldaean Oracles (and indeed Iamblichos’ De Mysteriis) will remain in one significant aspect not understood, because their very representation, that is to say, their layers of expression, presuppose an approximately describable and reconstructable experience by which we may have a chance to understand them. Observations made at the level of the philosophical-theological system should be supplemented therefore on a second level and in a second step of investigation by a “careful phenomenological characterization,”13 which itself allows for a careful approach to the very experience that is negotiated in these texts, and which remains and must remain, in a necessarily circular manner, because it is always fed back into the observations on the special language-discourse formulation of this experience. This “careful phenomenological characterization” should however be able to function with comparisons and analogies from other areas and in this manner leave behind the text-immanent level. This approach takes place as, among other things, a return of theurgy to its (possible, or rather, assumed) origin, from which defi-

10

11 12 13

and Freelance Divination: The Testimony of Iamblichus. The Journal of Roman Studies 83 (1993), 115–130, 129. The Chaldaean Oracles will emerge here as a very multifaceted text. Iamblichos fulfils a complementary role as a kind of philosophically clarifying interpreter and legitimiser. On this point see for example S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 108 und S. I. J. Fiat Lux, Fiat Ritus: Divine Light and the Late Antique Defense of Ritual. In: The Presence of Light. Divine Radiance and Religious Experience. Ed. by M. T. K. Chicago, London, 2004, 5–24, 5. K, see n. 5, 267. A. C. L. The Anatomy of Neoplatonism. Oxford, 1990, 126; see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 137f. K, see n. 5, 288.

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nite, characteristic properties, in particular that of the text and linguistic character of the Chaldaean Oracles, can be deduced. These properties allow in turn general assumptions to be made about the experience which underlies theurgic writing. Due to this hermeneutically precarious and ambivalent situation, that leads to the temptation to make absolute one aspect at the expense of the other, assessments differ as to what could have been the aim and function of theurgy. This hermeneutical uncertainty with respect to the phenomenon of “theurgy” and its texts, such as they exist for today’s interpreters after almost two thousand years, expresses itself in the formulation of theurgy as a form of – in a double sense – “practical mysticism”14 which includes within it aspects or phases of ἀναγωγή, μαντεῖα and σύστασις.15 Nevertheless the question of which form of mysticism apart from the typical textual and time-immanent concepts could be meant, remains for the most part unsettled in modern scholarship. “Mysticism” is in the meantime (before we try to get a closer look at it), therefore, to be defined in general terms as a religious practice that is fundamentally connected to the obtainment of exceptional states of consciousness,16 that is, connected to experiences that may well, broadly speaking, lead to an increasingly more intensive “unified vision of reality.”17 This reality has to be interpreted in a first approach in its text-immanent form, in other words within the scope of constructional aspects of late antiquity.18 In order to understand the term “mysticism” beyond this, in concrete terms specific to theurgy, just as much as to understand the historical claim of this doctrine and practice to an ancient pedigree, which was determinedly promoted by Iamblichos (and in turn Proklos and Damaskios), we should consider the practical and ritual, the quasi-material aspect of theurgy. Theurgy can be generally characterised for the meantime as “practical mysticism” with respect to its function as a soteriological practice.19 What the gods do with and by means of the soul during theurgical practice so that it becomes their ‘vehicle’, and how the soul can be prepared and made suitable to this effect20 is to be determined and defined within the scope of this soteriological perspective/frame. 14 15 16 17 18

19 20

J, Fiat Lux, Fiat Ritus: Divine Light and the Late Antique Defense of Ritual, see n. 10, 10. J, Fiat Lux, Fiat Ritus: Divine Light and the Late Antique Defense of Ritual, see n. 10, 10. B, see n. 9, 306. B, see n. 9, 307, note 31. A further hermeneutical approach to these theurgic aims, which can be grouped in the sequence “purity”, “liberation” and “deliverance”/”salvation” of the soul, corresponds to the processuality of this concept. See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 241. This likewise accords with the definition of “theurgy” as a “dynamic state of consciousness”, offered by A, Dreams, Theurgy and Freelance Divination: The Testimony of Iamblichus, see n. 9, 116. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 72. See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 52.

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The preparation of the soul is understood as a perfecting process21 whose purpose is to awake consciousness within the soul, without it realising at this point that the Divine/the One is present.22 The realisation of the presence of the “one” within the soul is classified in the texts of Iamblichos as ecstasy, as the “exchange (allatetai) of human action for divine”:23 as an ecstatic experience in which the human grants space to the Divine (in this sense the soul creates distance from itself ). The divine then works its way into the human Psyche from outside, and lets its effect work from within. As explained above, this makes the human soul or sentiency into a vehicle of the divinity. Aside from the ritual practices, which will be dealt with below in the chapter on the συνθήματα and their aesthetics, the specifically theurgic conception of this ecstatic state of salvation deserves further attention, because it provides a clear indication of where to look for the anthropological or interreligious arch¯e of theurgy. J describes the soteriological goal of the Chaldaean Oracles, that likewise will be the goal of theurgy, as follows: “In the Chaldaean Oracles, the virtuous soul is said to be rewarded by becoming an angel after death. But these angels then return to earth and reincarnate into new bodies to do two things. First, by serving as teachers, they help others perfect their souls. Second, by returning into materiality, they participate in the demiurge’s continual re-creation and reordering of the material world.”24 J points out that the idea of a “reward” of this kind, and this concept of the salvation of one’s soul after a godly and virtuous life are really unusual ideas in the second century after Christ.25 The ideas’ unusual status is accentuated by the fact that the soul must be reborn in order to serve the Divine. The soul must once again, therefore, enter into a body despite the fact that, according to J, the “true incarnation, in which a soul freed from one corporeal life is thrust again into a new corporeal life, was, in fact, viewed as highly distasteful in almost every ancient Mediterranean culture that believed in it and was to be avoided by the soul if at all possible; [. . . ]”26 What logically follows is the question of where the positive as well as thoroughly productive (and cosmologically almost necessary) value of reincarnation in theurgic soteriology comes from.27 To add 21 22 23 24

25

26 27

See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 172f. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 110. S, Divination in the Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 4, 248. S. I. J. Working Overtime in the Afterlife; or, No Rest for the Virtuous. In: Heavenly Realms and Earthly Realities in Late Antique Religions. Ed. by R. S. B and A. Y. R. Cambridge, 2004, 85–100, 88. J, Working Overtime in the Afterlife; or, No Rest for the Virtuous, see n. 24, 92 and 94: “Only [her emphasis] in the theurgic variation are the virtuous required to reincarnate [her emphasis] in order to serve God or to help the living”, also 96, note 35. J, Working Overtime in the Afterlife; or, No Rest for the Virtuous, see n. 24, 95. See J, Working Overtime in the Afterlife; or, No Rest for the Virtuous, see n. 24, 96.

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here to J’s thoughts on this subject, that the Platonic figure of Socrates and his daimonion were at the very least a structural model for this idea,28 we can bring into play at least one more possibility, for which there exists further evidence that points beyond the Platonic Socrates: Iamblichos seizes upon the claim of the Chaldaean Oracles to be teachings revealed by the gods themselves,29 and gives it a historical bent. Just as theurgy is revealed by the gods themselves, theurgy is also placed at the beginning of human history: “Is not rather the sacred ministry from the very beginning employed according to the statutes of the gods themselves, and in a way that is directed only towards the spirit? [“Ist denn nicht vielmehr der heilige Dienst nach den Satzungen der Götter selbst und in einer sich nur an den Geist wendenden Weise (νοερῶς) von Uranfang eingesetzt?”; οὐχ αὕτη μὲν κατὰ θεσμοὺς θεῶν νοερῶς τε κατ’ ἀρχὰς ἐνομοθετήθη;].30 Iamblichos’ focus on the Egyptians as paradigmatic evidence for the extreme old age of theurgy is to be understood in this context.31 This approach of Iamblichos, which can be understood as a legitimising or authorising strategy for his own interpretations and their content, nonetheless takes on a meaning that goes beyond the texts of Iamblichos and may well reveal an essential characteristic of this form of late Hellenistic religiosity: an understanding of the archaic aspects of these texts, which – as J supposes – extend back into Neolithic times.32 One finds this archaic, primordial heritage manifested in the theurgic language of the Chaldaean Oracles which seems to point back in time at least as far as the presocratic philosopher-healer Parmenides.33 In S I, 458, 17–21 the extreme old age of theurgy is linked 28 29

30 31 32 33

J, Working Overtime in the Afterlife; or, No Rest for the Virtuous, see n. 24, 96–98. Cf. P. A. The Chaldaean Oracles: Theology and Theurgy. In: Pagan Monotheism in Late Antiquity. Ed. by P. A and M. F. Oxford, 1999, 149–183, 149–153; J, Rising to the Occasion: Theurgic Ascent in Its Cultural Milieu, see n. 3, 169–171 and J, Working Overtime in the Afterlife; or, No Rest for the Virtuous, see n. 24, 87. On this see S, Divination in the Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 4, 230f. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 209 and 238f. this age-old doctrine lives on in Pythagoras. A. H. A. Introduction. In: Classical Mediterranean Spirituality. New York, 1989, XIII–XXI, XIV. P. C. M. In Praise of Nonsense. In: Classical Mediterranean Spirituality. Ed. by A. H. A. New York, 1989, 481–505, 485f. Also cf. I. T-D. Weise oder Scharlatane. Chaldaeerbilder der griechisch-römischen Kaiserzeit und die Chaldaeischen Orakel. In: Die Chaldaeischen Orakel: Kontext – Interpretation – Rezeption. Ed. by H. S and M. T. Heidelberg, 2010, 19–42, 25–27. See also A, The Chaldaean Oracles: Theology and Theurgy, see n. 29, 178. A points to the didactic poems of Parmenides, in terms of their textual and linguistic form, as the earliest comparative text and model for the Chaldaean Oracles. For a possible connection between Iamblichos and Parmenides see L. M. G M, ed. Die Vorsokratiker. Band II. Parmenides, Zenon, Empedokles. Griechisch-Lateinisch-Deutsch. Düsseldorf, 2009, 56. The argument for the old age of the doctrine thematised in the Chaldaean Oracles is given further weight by assuming (as K

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with the aforementioned peculiarity of theurgic soteriology, where Stobaeos sets the teachings of the “ancients” apart from those of the Platonists: “According to the Ancients, the souls freed from generation coadminister the cosmos with the Gods, but according to the Platonists they contemplate their divine hierarchy. And in the same way, according to the Ancients, liberated souls create the cosmos together with the angels, but according to the Platonists they accompany them in the circular journey.”34 This way we can focus on the question of a possible arch¯e of theurgy: we seek a religious phenomenon that combines old age with a kind of soteriology in which the idea of the soul’s active collaboration with divine work in the world and the idea of reincarnation of already redeemed souls are linked together. We seek a religious phenomenon in which the ascent and descent of the soul are fundamentally and systematically interlocked,35 and ascent as reincarnation is not seen as a punishment, but rather as a reward for behaviour in accordance with god and the essential task of special souls of this kind. At this point we have arrived at a “strange turn of events in the West, where only by looking to Tibet and Mongolia are we able to understand ancient Greek texts”.36 In this context, figures such as Pythagoras and Hermotimus, in whose stories the idea is expressed that the god Apollo has taken up, for example, a new human form in Pythagoras37 in order to help all other beings in the cosmos, point, in their combination of reincarnation and of concern for entire Creation, to the considerably older religious phenomenon of shamanism.38

34 35

36 37 38

assumes) that Parmenides was active as a preacher of incubation and that the practice of incubation was assimilated into his poetry, a practice which reaches back beyond Parmenides into the past. See P. K. In the Dark Places of Wisdom. Inverness, California, 1999. Text translation from S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 115. Cf. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 16, 23f. “[. . . ] apotheosis in theurgy could no longer be imagined as the ascent of the soul (the well known Plotinian metaphor), without a corresponding descent and demiurgy.” P. K. A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World. Point Reyes, 2010, 28. See e.g. K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 116f. See K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 138: “[. . . ] underlying any formal changes was the single thread of magical power always finding a new body for itself so it could stay constantly present in the world as a perpetual source of benefit to every form of life”, see ibid. 54 with 122, 55–60, 64 and 146f. on the connection between Greek reincarnation doctrine and practices to Mongolian shamanism. On the connection between the practice of incubation and Apollo to shamanistic practices see ibid. 126f. K’s whole book serves as proof of this connection. Cf. also J, Rising to the Occasion: Theurgic Ascent in Its Cultural Milieu, see n. 3, 175. In view of the above, the assumption of T-D, see n. 33, 41f. is to be firmly resisted. She claims that “die Theurgie [. . . ] somit nicht als ein Komplex von Riten zu betrachten [ist], der außerhalb

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This has several consequences: it is of fundamental importance that the Chaldaean Oracles at the very least, like the didactic poems of Parmenides and Empedocles,39 can be treated as living shamanistic practice, whose meaning in the analysis of these texts should not be limited with regard to the theoretical topics/contents of middle Platonic rational metaphysics and ethics contained within them. On this count, particular objects and practices which are mentioned in the Chaldaean verses can be and should be interpreted as an element of shamanistic practice (as for example the ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι from frg. 2 of the OC, or the Iynx/Strophalos) as well. The verses of the Chaldaean Oracles can themselves be defined as σύνθημα, that is, as an element of shamanistic practice. This likewise has consequences for the semantics of many terms used in the Chaldaean Oracles. Furthermore it is possible, especially in comparison with Parmenides, to determine in a closer phenomenological sense the experience that is thematised in these verses which find thereby a time and context-independent foundation in extra-textual reality. It is then possible to examine afresh certain verses of the Chaldaean Oracles and to link them with Iamblichos’ analysis of the corresponding phenomena. This means that the careful recontextualisation of these texts in their shamanistic correlation make it possible, as L recommends, to examine them in considerably more concrete terms as a negotiation of an experience of an exceptional state of consciousness. The complex of phenomena relevant to the subject “theurgy” will thus, as already mentioned, be narrowed in on by means of two different kinds of texts: the Chaldaean Oracles on the one hand as an example of a shamanistic text and a sunth¯ema; and on the other Iamblichos’ De Mysteriis as an example of a theoretical text of the second order where theoretical-philosophical reflections are made upon the events which are, in the Chaldaean Oracles, negotiated and generated by the language of revelation.40

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des Neuplatonismus entwickelt und praktiziert und von diesem schließlich rezipiert worden wäre, sondern vielmehr als eine genuin neuplatonische Tradition”. She concludes by defining theurgy as “inner-neuplatonische Entwicklungen auf der Basis des Textes der [Chaldäischen] Orakel” (ibid. 41 und 42). In my opinion, the complex structure of the text of the OC itself already conflicts with this finding. As do the emphasis on the old age of the OC and its dissimilarity from Neoplatonic philosophy mentioned in the philosophical commentaries themselves, the phenomenological basis suggested by the theurgic texts themselves and their connection to shamanistic practice, which influenced the philosophy of the Greeks far before the philosophy of Neoplatonism and really independent from it. Cf. G M, see n. 33, 46–48, 58–63 and 65–69 on Parmenides, and 322–326 and 353–363 on Empedocles, which build on some of Kingsley’s earlier discussion of these philosophers. Cf. P. A. Julian the Theurgist: Man or Myth? In: Die Chaldaeischen Orakel: Kontext - Interpretation - Rezeption. Ed. by H. S and M. T. Heidelberg, 2010, 193–208, 203 and A, The Chaldaean Oracles: Theology and Theurgy, see n. 29, 152f. On the same “theoretical” level, I will refer to texts from Proklos and Damaskios. On

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1.1 προδαρμόν τι εἰς αὐτὴν φῶς ἀφ’ ἑαυτῶν ἐπιλαμπόντων – the metaphysics of light, divine operation and human cooperation In order to approach the common basis of both kinds of texts, and to pay attention to the aesthetic aspects of theurgy, first of all the “positive features”41 of this basis, that is, of the shamanistic practice and its experience should be considered in their contemporary philosophical framing and construction with help of excerpts from Iamblichos. Iamblichus, who saw the Chaldaean Oracles as a holy text (and accordingly one should take this estimation seriously), strives at length in his work De Mysteriis to reconcile the issues dealt with in the Chaldaean Oracles with the various phenomena of Greek and Egyptian (as construed by him) religiosity. This way he attempts to classify and to explain them. In this classification and explanation a particular role is played by the mantis, who is emphasised by Iamblichos as the paradigm of the encounter between god and human consciousness.42 It is therefore for Iamblichos a question of understanding with the help of the figure of the mantis what was experienced in the exercise of religious practice of his time and earlier. Only after giving an explanatory reason (the Platonic λόγον διδόναι) for this mantic experience can he trust the experience and position it actively in opposition to Porphyrios’ (and the Christians’) interpretation of theurgy. In order to carry out this plan, Iamblichos must use as the basis a metaphysical world-explanation that is just as able to explain the individual phenomena and their descriptions in the Chaldaean Oracles as well as the foundations of all theurgic and mantic practices in general: the continuity of the world,43 understood as the sympathetic correlation of the cosmos in horizontal and vertical orientation, in which the interaction of the Divine with the human soul takes place.44 For this purpose Iamblichos makes use of Plotinos’ metaphysics of light.45 Thus the attempt to explain the opera-

41 42 43

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this later tendency, in which “die metaphysische Seinslehre zum Beziehungssystem [wird], das das Dunkel der Mysterien aufhellen soll” see W. B. Antike Mysterien. Funktion und Gehalt. München, 1991, 71; see also L. B. Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie. München, Leipzig, 2006, 341f. See above p. 144. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 231–236. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 39–41, in particular note 6 on page 41 emphasises the significance of cosmological continuity for Iamblichos’ explanation of theurgic/mantic practice. On the fundamental structure of this interaction see for example B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 345f. For the following see B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 345–372. See ibid. for further secondary literature; see also J, Working Overtime in the Afterlife; or, No Rest for the Virtuous, see n. 24, 7–10, which refers to “theurgic metaphysics” in this context.

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tion of the Divine on souls and bodies on the basis of a general and established metaphysical concept becomes discernable.46 47 As for example De Mysteriis I 9, 30, 13–31, 18 shows, Iamblichos interprets the workings of the gods on the world and in the world fundamentally as light: Whenever [the divine choice] obtains some parts of the cosmos by lot, such as, for example, the heaven or earth, whenever it obtains the holy cities or lands and whenever it obtains some separate [temple] areas or holy statues, it shines upon everything from without, as the sun shines upon everything from without. So just as light encircles the illuminated object, thus the strength of the gods encircles from without that which partakes of it. And as light is present in the air, without mingling with it (which is shown by the fact that no light remains behind [in the air], whenever that which shines in [light], withdraws entirely, although in fact the warmth [of the air] remains present, even if the genitor of the warmth has gone), precisely in this fashion does the light of the gods shine out by itself, remaining in itself passes through all existing things. And in fact visible light is one and [a continuum], [it is] entirely the same everywhere, so that it is not possible that one part of it breaks away, and [it] is also not [possible] to trace a circle around [a part of it], nor is it ever possible to break off [a part of it], while the light still grants something. The whole world is consequently subdivided with regard to the one and undivided light of the gods, for it consists of parts! The [light of the gods] is one, and as the same everywhere and in its entirety, it exists as an indivisible entity for all things which are able to participate in it. As an all-complete power (δύναμις παντελής) it infuses everything and completes the All in itself by means of its grandeur, which, in accordance with its origin, never ends. It is everywhere unified with itself and merges the extremes with the origins. Αὕτη τοίνυν ἐάν τε μοίρας τινὰς τοῦ παντός, οἷον οὐρανὸν ἢ γῆν, ἐάν τε πόλεις ἱερὰς καὶ χώρας, ἐάν τε καὶ τεμένη τινὰ ἢ ἱερὰ ἀγάλ46 47

Cf. B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 345, note 417. Pages 152–154 contain a slightly reworked version of pages 87–89 in L. B. Inkubation, Photagogie und Seelengefährt bei Iamblich. Zum Zusammenhang von Mystik, Ritual und Metaphysik in Iamblichs De Mysteriis und in den Chaldaeischen Orakeln. In: Die Chaldaeischen Orakel: Kontext – Interpretation – Rezeption. Ed. by H. S and M. T. Heidelberg, 2010, 79–92.

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ματα διαλαγχάνῃ, πάντα ἔξωθεν ἐπιλάμπει, καθάπερ ὁ ἥλιος ἔξωθεν φωτίζει πάντα ταῖς ἀκτῖσιν. ῞Ωσπερ οὖν τὸ φῶς περιέχει τὰ φωτιζόμενα, οὑτωσὶ καὶ τῶν θεῶν ἡ δύναμις τὰ μεταλαμβάνοντα αὐτῆς ἔξωθεν περιείληφεν. Καὶ ὥσπερ ἀμιγῶς πάρεστι τῷ ἀέρι τὸ φῶς (δῆλον δ’ ἐκ τοῦ μηδὲν ἐν αὐτῷ καταλείπεσθαι φῶς ἐπειδὰν ἅπαξ τὸ ἐλλάμπον ἀναχωρήσῃ, καίτοι θερμότητος αὐτῷ παρούσης ἐπειδὰν τὸ θερμαῖον ἐκποδῶν ἀπέλθῃ), οὕτω καὶ τῶν θεῶν τὸ φῶς ἐλλάμπει χωριστῶς ἐν αὑτῷ τε μονίμως ἱδρυμένον προχωρεῖ διὰ τῶν ὄντων ὅλων. Καὶ μὴν τό γε φῶς τὸ ὁρώμενον ἕν ἐστι συνεχές, πανταχοῦ τὸ αὐτὸ ὅλον, ὥστε μὴ οἷόν τε εἶναι χωρὶς ἀποτεμέσθαι τι αὐτοῦ μόριον μηδὲ κύκλῳ περιλαβεῖν μηδὲ ἀποστῆσαι ποτε τοῦ παρέχοντος τὸ φῶς. Κατὰ τὰ αὐτὰ δὴ οὖν καὶ ὁ σύμπας κόσμος μεριστὸς ὢν περὶ τὸ ἓν καὶ ἀμέριστον τῶν θεῶν φῶς διαιρεῖται. Τὸ δ’ ἔστιν ἓν καὶ αὐτὸ πανταχοῦ ὅλως, ἀμερίστως τε πάρεστι πᾶσι τοῖς δυναμένοις αὐτοῦ μετέχειν, παντελεῖ τε δυνάμει πεπλήρωκε πάντα, καὶ ἀπείρῳ δή τινι τῇ κατὰ αἰτίαν ὑπεροχῇ συμπεραίνει τὰ ὅλα ἐν αὑτῷ, συνήνωταί τε πανταχοῦ πρὸς ἑαυτὸ καὶ τὰ τέλη ταῖς ἀρχαῖς συνάπτει· So according to this, it is the light of the gods, this all-complete power (δύναμις παντελής), that penetrates, fills and holds together the All, without this form of divine effective immanence (“Wirkimmanenz”) diminishing the transcendence of the gods. For Iamblichos differentiates clearly between the essence of the Divine that remains transcendent (its οὐσία) und its continually emerging power (δύναμις), which causes a corresponding action (ἐνέργεια) in the material world. It is in the form of a luminous power, therefore, that the Divine takes effect in manticism and theurgic practice.48 In the continuum established by the gods, this strength produces its effect in a specific fashion that is grounded in Iamblichos’ general metaphysics: According to Iamblichos, the gods “shine from themselves an advanced light into soul” (προδαρμόν τι εἰς αὐτὴν φῶς ἀφ’ ἑαυτῶν ἐπιλαμπόντων, De Mysteriis III 14, 132, 19–133, 1) and let shine forth in this manner “[their] true appearance [. . . ] in the veritable places of souls, which correspond to them (τὰ δ’ ἀληθῆ [φαντάσματα] ἐν τοῖς ἀληθέσιν ἤθεσι τῶν φυχῶν ἐλλάμπει, De Mysteriis II 10, 94, 18–19). The divine light-power can realise its effect, therefore, only if to it corresponds a kind of receptive or resonant medium that is specially suited to receive the divine activity which is conceptualised in the form of light or fire effects.49 Thereby, as 48 49

See for example De Mysteriis III 12, 129, 3–10. Iamblichos gives the basic metaphysical reasoning for the following in De Mysteriis I 18, 53, 14–54, 11.

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powers in the form of light or fire, the gods not only bring about epiphanies, but also have in this form an assimilating and purifying as well as anagogical effect.50 Iamblichos differentiates, however, the effects of the divine dynamis in accordance with one’s spiritual capacity to receive it and participate in it, so that the experiences of this encounter with the Divine are different according to one’s spiritual predisposition or suitability,51 as Iamblichos states for example by a differentiation between gods, demons, and human and other souls: The same is true then in respect to light. The epiphanies of the gods shine more intensively than light [. . . ] (77, 10–11) But demons let fire shine through in a diminished form [. . . ] (77, 13) The souls however produce clear [fire/light] in a segmented fashion, that is filled by the commingling that prevails in the creation. (77, 16–18) Exactly in accordance with this, on the one hand the fire of the gods shines undivided, indivisible and in an ineffable way and fills all the deep places of the world, in a fire-like but not sublunar way [. . . ] (77, 19–78, 2) On the other hand, the [fire/light] appears four-part and multiform, mixed together out of many sublunar natures (78, 13–16). (De Mysteriis II 4, 77, 10–78, 16) Hence, two things are achieved in the course of the reconstruction of the late antique cultural construction and textual, philosophical expression of the theurgic experience: Firstly, certain epiphanies, however they may have originally occurred in the consciousness of the individual, are described as light experiences. This enables one, on the basis of the Neoplatonic interconnection of light and beauty, to value them as aesthetically rich experiences.52 For in Ennead VI 7, 22–23 Plotinos had already explicated, after the model of the Platonist Phaidros, the anagogic effect of the light of the Nous in a form that laid the ground for the subsequent connection between light of this kind and beauty:53 50 51

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See De Mysteriis V 11, 214, 5–10 and S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 147–151. Cf. B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 357, note 448 with reference to S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 84: “Shaw describes this function of suitability in its application to the theurgic ritual and points out that “epit¯edeiot¯es came to be used by Neoplatonists to account for the differences in mystical experience.” See below p. 190-195. The pages 154–157 contain a slightly adapted version of the pages 297–298 from B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40. H. L. Chaldean Oracles and Theurgy: Mysticism, Magic and Platonism in the Later Roman

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Whenever someone catches sight of this [higher] light, he is then stirred and drawn to this and desirous of this light, which gleams upon the [intelligible forms], and he refreshes himself with the light [. . . ] for each (of the intelligible things), is what it is by itself; it becomes an object of desire when coloured by the good. [. . . ] For the beauty [of the nous] is idle before it receives the light of the Good, and thus the soul lies with ‘its back on the ground’ there and is entirely idle, and even if the mind (nous) is present, the soul remains numb to it. If however, a kind of warming radiance (ὥσπερ θερμασία)54 penetrates into the soul from this, then the soul gains strength and awakes and becomes truly winged, and even if the soul is full of awe for what surrounds it and is near it, it nevertheless soars up, as if guided by a memory, to some other greater thing. (VI 7, 22, 1–7). Now, that on which every soul preys, is also that which the light offers to the mind and in falling upon it, arouses a likeness of itself, thus one may in truth not wonder that light has such strength, for it draws the soul to itself and calls [the soul] back from all wandering so that the soul comes to rest beside it (VI 7, 23, 1–4). ῞Οταν οὖν τὸ φῶς τοῦτό τις ἴδῃ, τότε δὴ καὶ κινεῖται ἐπ’ αὐτὰ καὶ τοῦ φωτὸς τοῦ ἐπιθέοντος ἐπ’ αὐτοῖς γλιχόμενος εὐφραίνεται, ὥσπερ κἀπὶ τῶν ἐνθαῦτα σωμάτων οὐ τῶν ὑποκειμένων ἐστιν ὁ ἔρως, ἀλλὰ τοῦ ἐμφανταζομένου κάλλους ἐπ’ αὐτοῖς. ῎Εστι γὰρ ἕκαστον ὅ ἐστιν ἐφ’ αὑτοῦ· ἐφετὸν δὲ γίνεται ἐπιχρώσαντος αὐτὸ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ, ὥσπερ χάριτας δόντος αὐτοῖς καὶ εἰς τὰ ἐφιέμενα ἔρωτας. Καὶ τοίνυν ψυχὴ λαβοῦσα εἰς αὑτὴν (τὴν) ἐκεῖθεν κινεῖται καὶ ἀναβακχεύεται καὶ οἴστρων πίμπλαται καὶ ἔρως γίνεται. Πρὸ τοῦδε οὐδὲ πρὸς τὸν νοῦν κινεῖται, καίπερ καλὸν ὄντα· ἀργόν τε γὰρ τὸ κάλλος αὐτοῦ, πρὶν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ φῶς λάβῃ, ἡ ψυχὴ παρ’ αὑτῆς καὶ πρὸς πᾶν ἀργῶς

54

Empire. Paris, 1978, 468–469 refers to this point in Plotinos in order to explain why light was understood as “Ruf zu Höherem” in the Chaldaean ritual. Here Plotinos makes a comparison that brings to mind the Chaldaean Oracles, as fragments 122 and 123 show. Fragment 123 in particular: πνεύματι θερμῷ κουφίζουσα. This warming is explained quasi-phenomenologically by Proklos in his interpretation of this fragment as the state of being immersed and penetrated from light: τοῦτ’ ἔστι περιλάμπουσα [τὴν ψυχὴν] πανταχόθεν. For the OC at least in this case it may be assumed that a spiritual phenomenon was described which is the consequence of a ritual practice. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 221–224 emphasises the similarity of this depiction with those of yoga experiences precisely at the point of sensing a penetration on all sides and a warmth. He considers these kinds of ancient depictions to be “images expressing transmundane experiences”. For a phenomenological interpretation of this “warmth” see below p. 178-179.

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ἔχει καὶ παρόντος νοῦ ἐστι πρὸς αὐτὸν νωθής. ᾿Επειδὰν δὲ ἥκῃ εἰς αὐτὴν ὥσπερ θερμασία ἐκεῖθεν, ῥώννυταί τε καὶ ἐγείρεται καὶ ὄντως πτεροῦται καὶ πρὸς τὸ παρακείμενον καὶ πλησίον καίπερ ἐπτοημένη ὅμως πρὸς ἄλλο οἷον τῇ μνήμῃ μεῖζον κουφίζεται.55 [. . . ] ᾿Εκεῖ δή, ὃ ψυχὴ διώκει, καὶ ὃ νῷ φῶς παρέχει καὶ ἐμπεσὸν αὐτοῦ ἴχνος κινεῖ, οὔτοι δεῖ θαυμάζειν, εἰ τοιαύτην δύναμιν ἔχει ἕλκον πρὸς αὑτὸ καὶ ἀνακαλούμενον ἐκ πάσης πλάνης, ἵνα πρὸς αὐτὸν ἀναπαύσαιτο. Here and in fragments 122 and 123 of the OC it is clearly the light that has an elevating effect, in which it makes intelligible beauty recognisable or perceivable and also appears itself as something beautiful.56 The disciple of Syrianos, Hermeias, expresses this with a desirable clarity: Das Schöne ruft zu sich und wendet zu sich hin. Deshalb auch wird das Schöne (καλόν) danach benannt, dass es die Liebenden zu sich ruft (καλεῖν). [. . . ] Denn die Schönheit ist wie Licht, das von der Quelle der Geistigen ausgesendet wurde hin zur Welt hier [und] zu sich ruft und eine Einheit wirkt der Liebenden zu dem Geliebten. Und deshalb vollzieht sich die Emporführung durch [das Licht]. Τὸ καλὸν κλητικὸν ὂν εἰς ἑαυτὸ καὶ ἐπιστρεπτικόν· διὸ καὶ καλὸν λέγεται παρὰ τὸ καλεῖν εἰς ἑαυτὸ τοὺς ἐρῶντας. [. . . ] [τὸ κάλλος] οἷον γὰρ φῶς ἐστιν ἐξαποσταλὲν ἀπὸ τῆς πηγῆς τῶν νοητῶν ἐπὶ τὸν τῇδε κόσμον καλοῦν πρὸς ἑαυτὸν καὶ ἑνωτικὸν γινόμενον τῶν ἐρώντων πρὸς τὸ ἐραστόν· διὸ καὶ δι’ αὐτοῦ ἡ ἀναγωγὴ γίνεται.57 The beauty of the light itself is in turn transferred, so we can assume, to the epiphanies, which are manifested in and as this light and therefore become aesthetically rich experiences. Secondly, there is the possibility of experiencing the inherently beautiful light of the gods as such – a beautiful, unificatory and elevating light. As said, this is fundamentally dependent on whether the soul is sufficiently prepared to receive the light 55 56

57

See the preceding note and below on p. 178-179 for the possible phenomenological semantic of this term. Below on page 178-179 I examine the phenomenological content of the anagogical characteristics of sensing heat and becoming more and more weightless (κουφίζειν). They give in my view some hints about which kind of experience could stand behind the texts which describe in this way an anag¯og¯e of the soul, unless one, like for example L and K, assumes a purely topical description of spiritual states in Iamblichos and in the Chaldaean Oracles. Text from L, see n. 53, 496, note 13. Although this is a late source, L justifies its usage for the interpretation of the Chaldaean Oracles by pointing out that Hermeias, just as Proklos, was an interpreter of oracular texts.

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in the right way. This is because, as has been shown, the quality of the respective epiphany depends decidedly on the quality of the resonant medium of the soul in which it is to manifest itself. Thus the epiphany, in itself omnipresent as one and the same intrinsic entity and of one and the same divinity, can be experienced in quite different ways.58 59 Iamblichos addresses this idea in his concept of photagogy. As an explanation of human reactions to divine activity and the psychic conditions of exceptional states of consciousness, we can understand, along with S, the theorem of the ethereal soul-vehicle (the so-called och¯ema) developed in photagogy as a “mystical physiology.” In order to develop an explanatory concept which fits into his metaphysical framework Iamblichos has integrated light-metaphysical and epistemological approaches together with the myth of the chariot of the soul from Plato’s Phaidros and motifs from the Timaios into the concept of the aethereal soul-vehicle.60 Independent from its exact material composition, the och¯ema serves as a higher-level faculty of imagination that can be shaped through sensory perceptions or through particular forms of intelligible powers or ideas, and then pass these on to the faculty of thought.61 More generally, we can call it a receptive medium that can be shaped or filled (particularly by divine powers). Why is it so important for Iamblichos here that it exists out of aether of all things? To begin with the fine matter of the aether is suitable for the creation of a reciprocal interpenetration between souls and the och¯ema. We shall address the importance of this shortly.62 Yet the individual components that penetrate each other do not lose their respective characteristics.63 If we envisage the power of the gods as the power of light – as Iamblichos does, drawing upon the Chaldaean Oracles – we might think of the “advanced light”, mentioned earlier. This suggests that the och¯ema, as the area of the soul in which this light should appear and which has received this light, for Iamblichos at least consists of aether. This is because aether, as a receptive medium, corresponds very well to the psychoactive active form of the gods – the dynamis: Aether was considered in the light theory of late antiquity to be the best immanence-medium for light. These ideas, combined with the concept of 58 59

60 61 62

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For a discussion of these differences see below p. 190-195. The pages 157-159 contain an adapted version of the pages 90–91 from B, Inkubation, Photagogie und Seelengefährt bei Iamblich. Zum Zusammenhang von Mystik, Ritual und Metaphysik in Iamblichs De Mysteriis und in den Chaldaeischen Orakeln, see n. 47. See B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 375–402 for further secondary literature. Cf. Proklos, In Eucl., 54, 27–55, 6 (F). On the fine-material quality of aether, see P. M. Quinta Essentia. In: Paulys Realencyclopädie der Classischen Altertumswissenschaft. Vol. Siebenundvierzigster Halbband (24/1). Stuttgart, 1963, 1171–1263, specifically 1212, 1227, 1230 and H. S. S. Hierocles of Alexandria. Oxford, 2002, 103, note 220. Syrianos, In Metaph. 85, 19–22 (ed. K) suggests this.

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the soul-vehicle as the primary spiritual faculty of imagination that sends onto the soul the sensations imprinted within it, could thus explain why the effect of divine power could be experienced and described as a luminous infusion. Because in the underlying model of light, the aether of the vehicle shines out its light in accordance with its purity. This perception of a specific transformation or penetration of aether by light could at the same time be experienced as the gods’ seizing total possession of the human resonant medium, explained and experienced as infusion by the gods. The soul-aether is flooded with light, and this state of being flooded or filled is directly conveyed to the soul as a sensation. At the same time this emphasises the fact that the quality of the medium influences the epiphany. Just as light can spread differently in a clear and diaphanous crystal and in muddy water, in the same way the spiritual predisposition influences, as dependant upon the predisposition of its och¯ema, the kind of epiphany.64 Discussion of this infusion and of the interaction between light-dynamis and the soul’s receptive medium, the ochema, therefore occupies a central position in De Mysteriis and the Chaldaean Oracles. Because of this “spiritual physiology” the soul-vehicle functions at the same time as φαντασία/φανταστικόν and as a resonant medium for the epiphanycausing light-force of the gods. In Iamblichos’ interpretation of chaldaean-schamanistic theurgy, the soul-vehicle is also attributed a central role for aesthetic considerations. According to S, to whose interpretation of Iamblichos in this case I subscribe, Iamblichos considers it an objective of the theurgist to take in and to integrate matter and multiplicity in a demiurgic fashion,65 whereby it is the specific function of theurgic ritual practice “to incorporate the soul’s physical actions into a divine pattern.”66 As conceived by Iamblichos, this occurs as a kind of divine “warm-up” or “input” into the soul; and as a connection between the soul of the theurgist and the world-soul, which is visualised through the goddess Hecate (among others).67 A necessary precondition for this connection and for this “warmup” is a complete and pure soul-vehicle, a faultless power to conceive of the Divine or a readiness to enter into a resonance with the Divine.68 The “success” of the preparations for this readiness and purity, that is, the level of connection with the 64 65 66 67

68

See B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 355–372. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 23f. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 16. On the equation of Hecate and the world-soul see e.g. R. M. The Chaldean Oracles. Text, Translation, and Commentary. Ed. by R. M. Leiden et al., 1989, 7 and W. F. Hekate Polymorphos – Wesensvarianten einer antiken Gottheit. Zwischen frühgriechischer Theogonie und spätantikem Synkretismus. Hamburg, 2006, 107–110 and B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 271–295 with further secondary literature. Cf. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 25–27, 153–161.

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world-soul, can in turn be seen by the kind of epiphany of the world-soul/Hecate in the och¯ema-phantastikon of a soul that is exerting itself theurgically. This exertion depends on the following causal chain: At the beginning the purification and perfection of the och¯ema-phantastikon occurs through the appropriate usage of the so-called συνθήματα or σύμβωλα in ritual. These “external” συνθήματα and σύμβωλα enable human souls to activate themselves their own quasi-intrinsic συνθήματα, which in turn have the effect of spiritual δυνάμεις upon the och¯ema, they prepare it in an appropriate way for the divine epiphanies.69 Because there is a causal chain of this kind, one which reaches from the ritual use of (divine) συνθήματα on the och¯ema to the divine epiphany in the och¯ema, theurgic aesthetics may be broken down accordingly into two related aspects that are interconnected through the intermediary function, or the intersection, of the och¯ema: on the one hand, into the aesthetics of the συνθήματα: on the other, into an aesthetics that differentiates among different forms or levels of epiphany. 2. ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι νόον ψυχήν θ’ ὁπλίσαντα – the aesthetics of the συνθήματα: Phurba, Strophalos and the No¯eton As described above, the συνθήματα serve the purpose of leading the soul in ritual into contact with, that is, an experience of, the Divine. That means they function, expressed Platonically, in a similar fashion as the Beautiful. As S observes,70 their beauty is situated in their anagogical effectiveness.71 At the same time, this anagogic transformation of the soul and its soul-vehicle (on that see below p. 165168), implies, as already mentioned, a transformation of the mental state or conditionality, a transformation of the level of consciousness. According to S, this transformation leads to the experience of the “One in the soul”, i.e. to ecstatic contact with the Divine by which the theurgist becomes completely absorbed in the aesthetic experience. “By ritually unifying its own multiplicity the soul entered the activity of the One and penetrated to its own pre-essential arch¯e. [. . . ] Consequently, Iamblichus argued that the effective agent in theurgy was philia or, speaking Platonically, that er¯os drew back the soul to the gods (cf. De Mysteriis 239, 6–13).”72 Because this experience forms the basis of and precedes the discursive 69 70 71

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S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 47–57. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 164. In this sense there exists an aesthetic, that does not autonomically locate the beauty of something in a thing, in circumstances or a situation in itself, but rather in a purpose, goal or effect that it achieves. The effect can however be thoroughly differentiated from that thing called “beautiful.” S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 23. Cf. also ibid. 164: “In Chapter 13, I suggested that the er¯omenoi of the Symposium and the sunth¯emata of theurgy were functionally equivalent. Both revealed divinity to the soul at its level of attraction, and both initiated its ascent to the gods. If sunth¯emata may be equated with the Forms of

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thinking of man, it is deprived of normal discursive thinking and understanding. Iamblichus describes this experience as follows: Thus let an introspection, innate with us, of the eternal companions of the gods correspond to those beings themselves [. . . ] our soul strives for this only through pure and irreproachable sensations of consciousness, which it receives since eternity from the gods and through them is connected with those higher beings! [. . . ] Our knowledge [of the existence of divine things] is therefore in this instant not based on the law of concession, or on the [logical-discursive] development, but rather exists since eternity alone in our soul and together with it. ᾿Εοικέτω δὴ οὖν τοῖς ἀιδίοις τῶν θεῶν συνοπαδοῖς καὶ ἡ σύμφυτος αὐτῶν κατανόησις· [. . . ] οὕτω καὶ ἡ ἀνθρωπίνη ψυχὴ κατὰ τὰ αὐτὰ τῇ γνώσει πρὸς αὐτοὺς συναπτέσθω, [. . . ] ταῖς δὲ καθαραῖς καὶ ἀμέμπτοις νοήσιν αἷς εἴληφεν ἐξ ἀιδίου παρὰ τῶν θεῶν, ταυταῖς αὐτοῖς συνηρτημένη· καὶ οὐκ ἐν τῷ συνγχωρεῖσθαι νῦν ἢ ἐν τῷ γίγνεσθαι ὑφέστηκεν, ἀλλ’ ἦν ἐξ αἰδίου μονοειδὴς ἐπὶ τῇ ψυχῇ συνυπάρχουσα.73 Thus Iamblichos clearly distinguishes this experience from human logical-discursive thinking and knowledge. This raises the question of how one can determine the semantic content of the important term νόησις in this context, especially if the term cannot refer, as it does in Plato, to dialectical thinking.74 (τὸ δ’ οὐκ ἔστιν οὐδαμῶς παραπλήσιον, De Mysteriis I 3, 10, 5). What form of knowledge and consciousness could therefore be meant, and what aesthetic criteria may we deduce from this? Moreover, is there perhaps a further connection between these two points and Iamblichos’ insistence that he represents a shamanistic practice (or what appears to us at least to be a shamanistic practice)? In response to these hermeneutically interlinked questions, I would like to take up an observation of S and, in considering three different sunth¯emata, put it into concrete terms and evaluate its plausibility: The soul experiences, through the sunth¯emata (on a level described in De Mysteriis I 3, 9) a σύνθεσις, that leads from chaotic disorder and lack of form to greater

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Plato, they should especially be associated with the Form of Beauty for, like Beauty, sunth¯emata were revealed to the senses and through the sanctification of the senses the sunth¯emata-like expressions of Beauty – gradually led the soul back to the highest level as the soul elevated its er¯os for the Good.” Iamblichos, De Mysteriis I 3, 9, 10–11, 9, 16–10, 1 and 10, 7–9 (P). On No¯esis in Plato see e.g. Res Publica 511d.

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sharpness and clarity.75 This means that the soul experiences a kind of integrative and wholesome collective movement that at the same time signifies intensification in concentration. As it encloses, contains and preserves the Other and the Multiplicity in itself, the segregation from the Other as the Other is therefore abolished: the more we ascend to the heights, to an identity with the first principles according to form and essence, and the higher we raise ourself from the part to the whole [the universal], the more we discover the eternal unity to be present, and we see it as all the more masterly and dominant, and it contains within it and about it the contrariness and multiplicity. ὅσῳ δ’ ἂν ἀνίωμεν ἐπὶ τὸ ὕψος καὶ τὴν ταὐτότητα τῶν πρώτων κατὰ τὸ εἶδός τε καὶ τὴν οὐσίαν, ἀπό τε τῶν μερῶν ἐπὶ τὰ ὅλα ἀναγάγωμεν ἑαυτούς, τοσούτῳ πλέον τὴν ἕνωσιν τὴν ἀίδιον ὑπάρχουσαν εὑρίσκομεν, προηγουμένην τε αὐτὴν καὶ κυριωτέραν θεωροῦμεν καὶ περὶ ἑαυτὴν καὶ ἐν ἑαυτῇ ἔχουσαν τὴν ἑτερότητα καὶ τὸ πλῆθος.76 The theurgist experiences the gods here “in accordance with [their] common unity and in accordance with [their] one [and] only activity (κατὰ κοινὴν ἕνωσιν καὶ μίαν ἐνέργειαν)”,77 that is, fundamentally in the form of a concentration (μίαν ἐνέργειαν), that at the same time implies the forceful impression of the sensation of a widening on the theurgist’s sentiency78 and at the same time the abolition of the difference between the subject and object of perception or experience (κοινὴν ἕνωσιν). Precisely this phenomenon, with its significant aspects of collection/concentration, the abolition of the subject-object division, and the sensation of widening, of a universal encompassing, is described in a theurgically specific manner in fragments 1 and 2 of the Chaldaean Oracles, where fragment 2 of the OC in my opinion 75

76 77

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See I, De Mysteriis III 15, 136, 8–10: ἴσως δὲ καὶ τὴν ἡμετέραν σύνθεσιν ἀπὸ τῆς αὐτῆς ἀφορμῆς εἰς ὀξύτητα πλείονα ἀνακινοῦσιν. On this cf. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 170–178. I, De Mysteriis I 19, 59, 9–15. I, De Mysteriis I 19, 60, 14–15. Iamblichos points out, directly following this depiction, that the significant criteria for the division of the classes of the gods have thus been found. In our case, ἕνωσις and μία ἐνέργεια supply the differentiating criteria for the aesthetic subdivision of the epiphanies described in the Chaldaean Oracles and the states of consciousness that belong to them. That this sensation is connected to the impression of widening can be deduced from the fact that the divine light is connected with the impression of “infinite sublimity”, see above p. 152-154 with I, De Mysteriis I 9, 30, 13–31, 18.

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describes a decisive sunth¯ema that should cause and initiate the state described in fragment 1, that is, the level of insight described there:79 For there exists a certain Intelligible which you must perceive by the flower of mind. For if you should incline your mind toward it and perceive it as perceiving a specific thing, you would not perceive it. For it is the power of strength, visible all around, flashing with intellectual divisions. Therefore, you must not perceive that Intelligible violently but with the flame of mind completely extended which measures all things, except that Intelligible. You must not perceive it intently, but keeping the pure eye of your soul turned away, you should extend an empty mind toward the Intelligible in order to comprehend it, since it exists outside (your) mind. ἔστιν γάρ τι νοητὸν, ὃ χρή σε νοεῖν νόου ἄνθει· // ἢν γὰρ ἐπεγκλίνῃς σὸν νοῦν κἀκεῖνο νοήσῃς // ὥς τι νοῶν, οὐ κεῖνο νοήσεις· ἔστι γὰρ ἀλκῆς // ἀμφιφαοῦς δύναμις νοεραῖς στράπτουσα τομαῖσιν. // οὐ δὴ χρὴ σφοδρότητι νοεῖν τὸ νοητὸν ἐκεῖνο // ἀλλὰ νόου ταναοῦ ταναῇ φλογὶ πάντα μετροῦσῃ // πλὴν τὸ νοητὸν ἐκεῖνο· χρέω δὴ τοῦτο νοῆσαι // οὐκ ἀτενῶς, ἀλλ’ ἁγνὸν ἀπόστροφον ὄμμα φέροντα // σῆς ψυχῆς τεῖναι κενεὸν νόον εἰς τὸ νοητόν, // ὄφρα μάθῃς τὸ νοητόν, ἐπεὶ νόου ἔξω ὑπάρχει. (fragment 1) Arrayed from head to toe with a clamorous light, armed in mind and soul with a triple-barbed strength, you must cast into your imagination the entire token of the triad, and not go toward the empyrean channels in a scattered way, but with concentration. ἑσσάμενον πάντευχον ἀκμὴν φωτὸς κελάδοντος, // ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι νόον ψυχήν θ’ ὁπλίσαντα, // πᾶν τριάδος σύνθημα βαλεῖν φρενὶ μηδ’ ἐπιφοιτᾶν // ἐμπυρίοις σποράδην ὀχετοῖς, ἀλλὰ στιβαρηδόν, [. . . ] (fragment 2) In fragment 1 of the OC, the repeated use of the terms νοητόν, νοεῖν, νόησις and νοῦς suggests that in his use of νόησις at De Mysteriis I 3 Iamblichos could be referring to the same state of consciousness, the same level of knowledge (at 79

M, see n. 67, 138 differs on this point. For her νοεῖν in v. 3 of the fragment signifies “a genuine aspect to the Chaldaean anag¯og¯e [her emphasis] independent of any external ritual action”. Yet Iamblichos, in the debate with Porphyrios has already denied that there could be such a kind of ritual-independent, purely spiritual knowledge of the Divine in theurgy. Following Iamblichos and S, I am likewise of the opinion that with these kinds of interpretations, the unity of the theugic-shamanistic ritual and path of knowledge is artificially broken.

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least at De Mysteriis I 3). The paradoxical formulation “ἔστιν γάρ τι νοητὸν, [. . . ] ὥς τι νοῶν, οὐ κεῖνο νοήσεις·” anticipates what S establishes as the result of mental sunth¯esis in Iamblichos: the abolition of the subject-object division.80 If the theurgist attempts to grasp the νοητόν as a distinctive object, she will not be able to do so. An aware, intentional consideration, a dialectical or discursive deliberation of this νοητόν is not possible, as verses 10–12 establish.81 At De Mysteriis I 3, 9, Iamblichos seems to negotiate the word νοητόν with reference to the key terms ταὐτότητα τῶν πρώτων and ἕνωσις, which as a kind of totality of perception include and preserve within themselves diversity (ἑτερότητα). Fragment 1 contains, therefore, a puzzle as to the existence of νοητόν, a puzzle that has been dressed up in paradoxical phrases. It refers to a state of consciousness which is to be obtained without any normal cognition or perceptive activity, but rather by means of ritual activities. It means to leave behind the division of perception between the perceiving subject and the perceived object, a division which is assumed in general to be necessary or fundamental for human perception and the possession of consciousness. Why this is so will be clarified in verses 5–6, with the help of the “characteristics” of the νοητόν (ἔστιν γὰρ [. . . ] ), to which a quite specific spiritual disposition must correspond (v. 7: οὐ δὴ χρὴ [. . . ] and v. 9: χρέω δὴ), whereby a “normal” attitude towards knowledge is rejected and contrasted with an exceptional attitude, suitable for this νοητόν: οὐ δὴ [. . . ] ἀλλὰ [. . . ] χρέω [. . . ] οὐκ [. . . ], ἀλλ’. The verses 5–6, describing more closely the puzzling νοητόν, contain nonetheless a further puzzle, whose solution in my view cannot be achieved only by revealing the metaphysical sense of this verse in terms of Middle-Neoplatonic meta80

81

S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 111, 119f. and 121f. It is plausible to equate this abolition with the state of “hyperignorance”, cf. below p. 192f. H. S. Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit. Bonn, 1988, 90 says of this experience (which I have yet to address in detail): “Von einem Gegenstand kann dann zunächst gar nicht mehr die Rede sein; der überwältigende Eindruck saugt das Subjekt auf und gibt ihm keinen Anhaltspunkt zur Objektivierung”. In the second half of verse 12: ἐπεὶ νόου ἔξω ὑπάρχει, it seems that precisely this human way of thinking is expressed: that in the case of this νοητόν we have an object set in contrast to the νοῦς and it thus assumes the subject-object division. But one can also understand this phrase, for example with M, see n. 67, 140, to the effect that this state transcends any normal human perception and lies outside of the usual power of the human consciousness (on that cf. also H. S. ᾿Αμφιφαής: Facetten einer chaldaeischen Vokabel. In: Die Chaldaeischen Orakel: Kontext – Interpretation – Rezeption. Ed. by H. S and M. T. Heidelberg, 2010, 235–254, 236) and requires ritual preparation through particular συνθήματα as well the willingness and presence of the gods. This formulation can therefore also be read as evidence for the status of the “fallen soul” of the human being, which S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 70–80 firmly emphasises. At the same time, the phrase in verse 12 is to be seen as corresponding to verse 9: πλὴν τὸ νοητὸν ἐκεῖνο.

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physics.82 The task is rather to question the level of meaning which only becomes accessible if one assumes, with Iamblichos, that in the OC we are dealing with a πάλαιος λόγος, whose semantic roots possibly reach back to Parmenides;83 and secondly if we expect a “mystical physiology”84 in the OC, albeit in a somewhat enigmatic form, which could have likewise inspired Iamblichos’ comments on the och¯ema. A translation of verses 5–6, which expresses this semantic level and at the same time attempts to do justice to the possible reference to Parmenides, could follow along these lines:85 “ [. . . ] for [this no¯eton] is the power, which is aimed at the strength [ἀλκῆς] that is surrounded in light [, i.e. at the och¯ema of the human soul] and [this strength/this och¯ema] is lit brilliantly with the noetic self-evidencies [νοεραῖς [. . . ] τομαῖσιν].” In this context, the adjective ἀμφιφαοῦς, which qualifies the concept of ἀλκῆς, can refer to aether.86 Because aether has already been described as the material of the och¯ema and as γονίμη δύναμις87 in the context of the explanation of theurgic practice and mantic techniques, the och¯ema may with a certain plausibility also be understood as δύναμις in the sense of a metonymy, and thus in the oracle text be itself denoted as ἀλκή.88 The ταναῇ φλογί of the νόου ταναοῦ in verse 8, which encompasses everything, corresponds accordingly to the concept of “aethereal strength” that describes the och¯ema, since here a juncture from Euripides, Or. 322 clearly has been analogically adopted: ταναὸς αἰθήρ. The ταναῇ φλογί of the extended nous could refer, in this way, to the aethereal soul-vehicle, which encompasses and integrates89 within itself the demiurgic forces of the world soul. At the same time, the spiritual phenomenon of the experience of cosmic widening is addressed in these junctures.90 According to S this spiritual phenomenon is also central for the understanding of the Parmenidean di82

83

84 85

86 87 88 89 90

An interpretation of this kind is offered by M, see n. 67, 139. Her observations need further explanation in line with S’s argument. Metaphysics as “mystical physiology” according to this is itself a cipher and refers to a religious, mystical experience. Above p. 148-150. On the complex semantics of the terms νοεῖν and νόος in Parmenides from a phenomenological-philological perspective, see S, Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit, see n. 80, 64–104. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 222. In fact there cannot exist a single translation that suffices on all semantic levels of the OC as a likewise theoretically-reflected and magical-practical text. Depending on which aspect is emphasised, one and the same verse or word can have quite different translations. The different semantic levels are here not related to one another on a hierarchical basis, but rather in the OC they put each other into perspective (and activate each other) as theurgic σύνθημα, so to speak organologically and mutually mirrored in one another. See S, see n. 81, 244–252, in particular 250 and 252. I, In Ti. IV, frg. 84, 4–5 (ed. D). Cf. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 115f. On this see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 115–117 passim. In the fragment’s text likewise implied by τεῖναι in v. 11.

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dactic poem. The formulations in fragment 1 of the OC serve also, therefore, as an expression of this religious experience and are in this fashion “mystical theology”. Phenomenologically, the following is thus gained: the phrases ἀλκῆς ἀμφιφαοῦς and particularly νόου ταναοῦ ταναῇ φλογί denote that which in Iamblichos, following the OC, denotes as an aethereal soul-vehicle, as a considerable aspect of the νόου ἄνθει (v. 1). Because of their emphasised tendency to expansion and extension, the phrases expound a mystical physiology that points to and at the same time explains an experience that has been observed by S among others and classified by him in his interpretation of Parmenides as the “MachErfahrung”.91 In the “Mach-Erfahrung” a human experiences, in the form of a feeling or an impression or the state of being possessed by the cosmic widening, the world “at once, complete with my I as a coherent mass [my emphasis] of sensations, only in the I more strongly coherent (“mit einmal samt meinem Ich als eine zusammenhängende Masse [my emphasis] von Empfindungen, nur im Ich stärker zusammenhängend”).92 S compares this experience of a vision-like character and irrefutable self-evidence93 with an ecstatic practice of the Tibetan lamas, which could help to clarify the character of the experience or sensation of this widening particularly well, which is expressed in verse 8 by ταναοῦ ταναῇ in an almost imploring manner: “The Tibetan hermit-monks lie on their back while they ‘meditate upon the sun and the sky in order to ‘not see anything other than the sky.’ The custom should lead to rapture and create a feeling of indescribable connectedness with the universe.” (“Die tibetischen Einsiedler legen sich bei ihrer Meditation zur ‘Betrachtung der Sonne und des Himmels’, um ‘nichts als den Himmel zu sehen’, auf den Rücken. ‘Der Brauch soll zur Verzückung führen’ und ein Gefühl unbeschreiblicher Verbundenheit mit dem Weltall herstellen.”)94 Correspondingly Iamblichos dresses this experience of theurgic ecstasy and its irrefutable self-evidence (in the fragment itself expressed through the noetic selfevidencies [νοεραῖς [. . . ] τομαῖσιν]) in the form of a metaphysical depiction, that seems to me to aim for the same thing but uses the philosophical concept of a metaphysical continuum to depict and explain it: 91 92 93

94

This is the name S gives to this kind of experience or sensation which is named after the scientist Ernst Mach who describes it in a way S found out to be quite adequate. S, Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit, see n. 80, 2. On the “Mach-Erfahrung” see S, Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit, see n. 80, 2f. on page 47 S speaks, in the context of the thematic development of this experience in Parmenides, of an “Intuition der Untrüglichkeit” connected with this cf. further ibid. 57. H. S. Der Leib. Berlin, Boston, 2011, 51. On page 50, S emphasises moreover that this experience distinguishes itself through the feeling of “dissolving into the world ([sich] in die Welt hinein aufzulösen),” which in turn can correspond to the goal of the theurgist, to “feed” her- or himself into the sympathetic fabric of the cosmos.

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also the uniformity and sympathy of the universe and the harmonious motion (which is like that of one single and uniform living thing) of its parts farthest separated from each other together as if they were close to one another, causes the signs from the gods to be sent down to the people. This at first makes visible [out of the region of the intelligible gods beyond the sphere of fixed stars], through the heavenly vault and then through the air of the humans, the greatest possible clarity. Καὶ ἡ ἕνωσις δὲ καὶ ἡ συμπάθεια τοῦ παντὸς καὶ ἡ ὡς ἐφ’ ἑνὸς ζῴου συγκίνησις τῶν πορρωτάτω μερῶν ὡς ἐγγὺς ὄντων, τὴν τῶν σημείων τούτων πομπὴν ἐκ θεῶν ἀνθρώποις καταπέμπει, διὰ τοῦ οὐρανοῦ μὲν πρώτως ἔπειτα διὰ τοῦ ἀέρος ἐκφαινομένην τοῖς ἀνθρώποις ὡς οἷόν τε μάλιστα λαμπρότατα.95 Furthermore, Iamblichos classifies this sunth¯ematic action as a kind of metaphysical integration of the encompassing and integrating human δύναμις, that is the theurgist’s och¯ema, that for its part encompasses many creative powers within it, into the higher-level and still more broadly encompassing divine creative power.96 Theurgic henosis in Iamblichos is thus approached in terms of the divine effect on creation in its genuine shamanistic element of a positive collaboration of the theurgist’s soul in the demiurgic task of supporting the world.97 This is because Iamblichos determines the henosis of the theurgist not as a silent lingering on and in the Transcendent, but rather as a sensation of an active and universal corporeal attachment with the world,98 as a collaborative participation in the cosmogony, whose prerequisite is at the same time the complete devotion of the theurgist to these events. In this cosmic-cosmogonic widening, the subject-object division is abolished, so that the “I”, that (supposedly) autonomous self of the theurgist loses itself, or rather merges with the demiurgic forces that a the same time penetrate the subject’s sentiency.99 95 96 97 98 99

I, De Mysteriis III 16, 137, 20–138, 5. See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 115–117 on I, De Mysteriis X 6, 292, 5ff. On this see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 115–123. For a phenomenological analysis of this state see H. S. Der unerschöpfliche Gegenstand. Grundzüge der Philosophie. Bonn, 1990, 137–140. Or, as Iamblichos expresses it: every theurgist must become a mantis (see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 236), i.e she must act as a vessel (ὑποδοχή, δοχεύς) to receive fully the deity in herself; on that cf. B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 321–330. This corresponds, on the level of a phenomenological interpretation, to what S calls “Selbstverlust” in the mystically experienced “excorporation” (“Ausleibung”), see S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 50–53. S defines there the “Ausleibung” as a condition of “absoluter

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The sensation of this henosis, the cosmic widening experienced as an active corporeal connection and input into the world, is in my view what is meant in fragment 1 by the conceptual field of νόος, νόησις, νοεῖν and νοητόν. At the same time this noetic, or mystical insight implies, as S has observed, that the discernment/noticing (νοεῖν; in German: “das Bemerken”) becomes kind of moulded and dissolved into being which altogether is “a coherent One” and which is without any differences in itself and everywhere absolutely identical with itself.100 S finds already in the pre-Socratic Parmenides (with whose didactic poem the Chaldaean Oracles is, as mentioned, supposed to bear a certain relation) an early description of this discernment (“Bemerken”, “Bemerk”) and the experience of the “excorporation” (“Ausleibung”) connected with it. S points in this context to frg. DK 28B3: τὸ γὰρ αὐτὸ νοεῖν ἐστίν τε καί εἶναι, which builds/forms the basis for his interpretation of Parmenides: “It is the same for someone, to be something and to notice something” (“Das Selbe ist es für jemanden, etwas zu bemerken und das auch schon zu sein.”) That is, for the nous (the “faculty of noticing”, the “Bemerk” as S calls the ability for this level of experience) everything is in present time, in such a fashion that everything coincides with it.101 In this state, the subject-object divide is accordingly abolished, since there is no longer a refIdentität” in “Versinken und der Versunkenheit” into the world. S illustrates this by means of a mystical experience which the mystic Heinrich Seuse had by staring at a source of light (“Starren in Glanz”) and that can be invoked as an analogue to explain the experience of the Chaldaean νοητόν. Seuse experienced something that had “weder Form noch bestimmte Art und doch aller Formen und Arten freudenreiche Lust in sich . . . ” Thereby Seuse forgot “sich selbst und alles um sich” and experienced an “Ausbruch [. . . ] von des ewigen Lebens Lieblichkeit, seinem Wahrnehmen gegenwärtig, bewegungslos und ruhig.” It is a “grenzenloses Starren”, a “Vereinigung bis zur Identität mit dem, was wir anstarren.” S provides the following phenomenological interpretation of this description: “Der Kern der Erfahrung einer mystischen Vereinigung mit Gott (unio mystica) dürfte Ausleibung sein. Diese in anderer Form, nicht mit Zuspitzung auf Gott, sondern mit Ausbreitung zum All, kommt ebenso als Starren in Glanz beim Liegen in der Sonne vor. Die tibetischen Einsiedler legen sich bei ihrer Meditation zur ‘Betrachtung der Sonne und des Himmels’, um ‘nichts als den Himmel zu sehen’, auf den Rücken. ‘Der Brauch soll zur Verzückung führen’ und ‘ein Gefühl unbeschreiblicher Verbundenheit mit dem Weltall herstellen’. Eine verwandte Erfahrung widerfuhr Ernst Mach und prägte seine Denkweise, den mystischen Positivismus: ‘An einem heitern Sommertage erschien mir mit einmal die Welt samt meinem Ich als eine [S’ emphasis] zusammenhängende Masse von Empfindungen, nur im Ich stärker zusammenhängend. Obgleich die eigentliche Reflexion sich erst später hinzugesellte, so ist doch dieser Moment für meine ganze Anschauung bestimmend geworden.’ Machs Initiationserlebnis beim Liegen in der Sonne, dessen negatives Resultat sich in seiner Sentenz ‘Das Ich ist unrettbar’ niederschlug, ist Ausleibung, in der die absolute Identität und Subjektivität der exponierten Gegenwart in die Welt als eine ununterbrochene Masse von Empfindungen, wie in ein uferloses Meer, ausläuft” (51). 100 See S, Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit, see n. 80, 102f. 101 For further illustration of what is meant here, see S, Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit, see n. 80, 88–90.

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erence point for an objective viewpoint: “but behold how for the noos (faculty of noticing/Bemerk) the absent [things] are firmly present” (“Sieh’ aber dennoch, wie die ab-seienden [Sachen] dem Noos [Bemerk] fest an-seiende sind.”)102 Just as the och¯ema is the site of the Mach-Erfahrung in the oracles and in Iamblichos, in Parmenides the Nous plays this role, of a “vorgegenständliche” experience of being prior to any kind of objectifying sentience or perception, an experience in which the individual feels contained and integrated steadfastly in the world because of her/his loss of self in the excorporation. The unity of the world will be experienced in the unity of the individual’s intuition, which does not focus on a specific object, a τι,103 but rather, as shown, happens to the theurgist at the level of a universal and simultaneously integrative and fullfilled104 widening of perspective. Moreover, it gives rise in this cosmically experienced widening to a “I-world-fusion.”105 Precisely this “I-world-fusion”, which Iamblichos interprets metaphysically as an active integration, input and connection of the theurgist’s soul by means of its och¯ema into the demiurgical, creative powers of the word soul,106 is the νοητόν, which fragment 1 of the Chaldaean Oracles addresses on what we would call the phenomenological level.107 102 Frg. DK28B4: Λεῦσσε δ’ ὅμως ἀπέοντα νόῳ παρέοντα βεβαίως· This translation comes from

103 104

105 106 107

S, Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit, see n. 80, 17; see 17–24 for the reasoning behind this translation. On the abolition of the subject-object division in this experience, see S, Der Ursprung des Gegenstandes: von Parmenides bis Demokrit, see n. 80, 90. See OC frg. 1, v. 5: ὥς τι νοῶν, οὐ κεῖνο νοήσεις·; see above p. 162f. For a description of experiencing this infusion in the ancient texts see De Mysteriis III 16, 113, 8–14; on that B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 319f. and S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 89–91. G. S. Philosophie der Religion. : http : / / www. guenter - schulte . de / materialien / philoreligion/philorelig. See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 51f. The interpretation that S gives of the adjective ὁμονοητικός accords with this: According to him this adjective is used to classify the “noetic concord“ (S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 115, Anm. 14), that is the experience of the “all-sustaining and in itself perfectly effective power [. . . ] so that the theurgic soul becomes perfectly established in the activities, thoughts and creations of these powers.“ Οἷον, ὃ λέγω, τῇ αὐτογόνῳ καὶ τῇ αὐτοκινήτῳ καὶ ἀνεχούσῃ πάντα καὶ τῇ νοερᾷ καὶ τῇ διακοσμητικῇ τῶν ὅλων καὶ πρὸς ἀλήθειαν τὴν νοητὴν ἀναγωγῷ καὶ τῇ αὐτοτελεῖ καὶ τῇ ποιητικῇ [δυνάμει] καὶ ταῖς ἄλλαις δημιουργικαῖς δυνάμεσι τοῦ θεοῦ κατ’ ἰδίαν συνάπτει, ὡς ἐν ταῖς ἐνεργείαις αὐτῶν καὶ ταῖς νοήσεσι καὶ ταῖς δημιουργίαις τελέως ἵστασθαι τὴν θεουργικὴν ψυχήν. Καὶ τότε δὴ ἐν ὅλῳ τῷ δημιουργικῷ θεῷ τὴν ψυχὴν ἐντίθεσιν. (De Mysteriis X 6, 292, 10–18.) Now we have once again a point that is essential for the understanding of the OC as a mystical or, to be more precise, a shamanistic text: the metaphysics and soteriology of Iamblichos depend on the attempt to explain a “transcendent experience” (S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 108). Here an experience of irrefutable self-evidence that exists outside

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2.1 ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι – The theurgic Phurba An essential and necessary condition for the formation of the power of the soul into νοεῖν, is the κενεὸν νόον (frg. 1, v. 11), the opposite of the object-fixated, intentional thinking and perception on this side of the subject-object division which is explicitly rejected in fragment 1 with σφοδρότητι (v. 7) and ἀτενῶς (v. 10). Yet what could be meant by this? To answer this question I would like to refer to an ecstatic practice that shows a certain similarity to the already mentioned practice of the Tibetan lamas. This ecstatic practice is called incubation, by which is meant the rapture of consciousness obtained through φωλεύειν namely by keeping up a sleep-like state of trance in a cave or cave-like room. K describes this rapture as follows: “They [i. e. the practitioners of this practice, the priests of Apollon] would lie down in an enclosed space. Often it was a cave. And [. . . ] they’d enter a state described as neither sleep nor waking – and eventually they’d have a vision. [. . . ] What’s important is that you would do absolutely nothing. [. . . ] You’d just have to surrender to your condition. You would lie down as if you were dead.”108 Synesios discusses the state of consciousness reached by this process and associates it with the concept of the och¯ema: It is therefore best to have prepared the divine pneuma [which is to be equated with the aethereal och¯ema] so that it becomes worthy of guidance by the spirit (νόος) and by god, but so that it does not on the other hand act as a vessel of indeterminate illusions. The best cultivation happens however through a philosophy which bestows a quietness of emotions [to the pneuma/och¯ema]. If they are set into motion, the Pneuma is seized by them as a receptive mouldingmaterial.109 The best cultivation also happens through a moderate and harmonious way of life, which makes the animal [i.e. the unbridled emotions] the least wild as possible and introduces as little agitation as possible into the lowest [i.e. biological] bodies. For if that happens, disordered movement can expand to the first body [i.e. to the och¯ema]. This must however be peaceful and stationary. of the text and independent from it, ultimately becomes the criterion by which the different portrayals must measure themselves. On this cf. also J. K. Körper beten: Religiöse Praxis und Körpererleben. Stuttgart, 2007, 56f. 108 K, In the Dark Places of Wisdom, see n. 33, 80. On this also see B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 317–321. 109 For this translation of the Greek χώρα see B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 391f. with note 541.

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῎Αριστον μὲν οὖν οὕτως παρεσκευακέναι τὸ πνεῦμα τὸ θεῖον, ὡς ἐφορείας ἀξιοῦσθαι νοῦ καὶ θεοῦ, ἀλλὰ μὴ δεξαμενὴν εἶναι τῶν ἀορίστων εἰδώλων. Τροφὴ δὲ ἀρίστη διά τε φιλοσοφίας γαλήνην ἐμποιούσης παθῶν, ὑφ’ ὧν κινηθέντων τὸ πνεῦμα, καθάπερ χώρα, καταλαμβάνεται, καὶ διὰ μετρίας διαίτης καὶ σώφρονος, ἥκιστα μὲν ἐξοιστρώσης τὸ ζῷον, ἥκιστα δὲ σάλον ἐμποιούσης εἰς τὸ ἔσχατον σῶμα· φθάνοι γὰρ ἂν ὁ κλόνος μέχρι τοῦ πρώτου, τὸ δὲ ἀτρεμές τε δεῖ καὶ ἀκλόνητον εἶναι.110 “The stillness of emotions”, the inner peace and mental freedom or openness may therefore be that which in the OC, as κενεὸς νόος, is a precondition for the reception of the I-world-fusion in the nous, because only by becoming a κενεὸς νόος or like a κενεὸς νόος the theurgist’s mind or consciousness is ready for the experience of widening and the accompanying experience of universal (re-)union. A central technique to initiate this state, which is of great importance to theurgy, is revealed in fragment 2 of the OC. It is a tool for the acquisition of the κενεὸς νόος which at the same time corresponds to the ταναῇ φλογί. It is the ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι, the shamanistic Phurba. The juncture ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι is commonly translated as “triple-barbed strength”, understood as a theological-metaphysical allusion to the triadic inner structure of the first god of the Middle Platonic “Chaldaean” system.111 On one of the many semantic levels of the OC, namely that of a metaphysical meaning, this interpretation certainly makes sense, as the parallel passages offered by M show. M herself, however, expands the semantic potential of this juncture considerably, when she equates the τριάδος σύνθημα (token of the triad) with this “three-bladed strength”; further, she interprets this as the magical “vox mystica of the Highest God”, that is as a psychogogically effective incantation.112 I should like to adopt this approach of understanding the ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι as a σύθημα, that is as an instrument that is used ritually in order to induce a certain state of consciousness. Further, I should like to interpret fragment 2 as a continuation of fragment 1 in the phenomenological context of the holistic sensations of widening and narrowing being interlinked in the so-called “vital drive.”113 In this perspective one may consider, in line with the observations made 110 S, De insomniis 16, 594 (ed. G); translation in B, Kraftmetaphysik und

Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 391f. 111 See e.g. M, see n. 67, 141 on frg. 2. 112 On this form of the συνθήματα, refer to the section below on the OC as a magical text where

there is also cited further secondary literature on this topic. 113 According to S, the corporal sensation becomes accessible to human beings in accor-

dance with the varying, yet always reciprocal dynamic of narrowing and widening, whose interaction and scope constitute the “vital drive” (“vitaler Antrieb”). One can speak here with K of an “antagonistic trial of strength” (“antagonistischen Kräftemessen“) (K, see n. 107, 53),

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hitherto, the didactic poem of Parmenides and the Chaldaean Oracles to be esoteric texts (hence Iamblichos’ assessment that these texts deal with a πάλαιος λόγος, as their form of divine revelation suggests). For this reason, in the OC one should expect to encounter ambivalences, puzzles and ambiguities.114 A metaphysicaltheological reading of the verses would not exclude, therefor, a further interpretation directed towards a theurgic-practical meaning.115 On this basis, I regard fragment 2 of the OC as a section of text concerning maybe the central σύνθημα of the theurgic ecstatic ritual, in which the function of this σύνθημα and the condition of the soul associated with this is described. The real, that is extra-textual phenomenological connection between fragment 1 and fragment 2 can be seen, as has been noted, in the dynamic of the reciprocal connectedness and interdependence between narrowing and widening in the corporeal experience, that is the “vital drive” (“Engung und Weitung” als “leibliche Regungen” im “vitalen Antrieb”). According to S it is this reciprocal dynamic which forms the backbone of every holistic and mystical experience of reality. In terms of textual content, fragment 2 is linked by its first verse with fragment 1: “Arrayed from head to toe with a clamorous light” ἑσσάμενον πάντευχον ἀκμὴν φωτὸς κελάδοντος clearly refers to the aethereal soul-vehicle116 and thus to ἀλκῆς ἀμφιπαοῦς and ταναῇ φλογί from fragment 1. Also in fragment 2, the point is clearly that something happens with this “organ”, this site of theurgic experience.117 If we assume furthermore the identification between this och¯ema, i.e the φῶς κέλαδον from v. 1 of fragment 2, and the φανταστικόν, as well as the equation suggested by M of the τριάδος σύνθημα (v. 3) and ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι (v. 2), then we also can assume that in these verses a preliminary effect of this special σύνθημα (tool of the trade) in the φρήν118 is to be negotiated, an

114

115

116 117

118

in which e.g. excess widening can lead to the experience of excorporation. See also S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 15–21. On the properties of esoteric texts, see e.g. G M, see n. 33, 47–48, 58–63, 65–66, who draws on the poem of Parmenides as an illustrating example. Her observations also apply well to the Chaldaean Oracles and can thus be supplemented. J, Riders in the Sky: Cavalier Gods and Theurgic Salvation in the Second Century A. D, see n. ∗, 317 also assumes a semantic level which conveys a theurgic-practical content. She presumes that in fragment 2 ἀλκῇ τριγλώχινι could mean “tools of the (theurgist’s) trade”, without however going into more detail. See M, see n. 67, 141 on fr. 2. On the central position of the och¯ema for theology, see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 51–56 and B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 372–410. On φρήν as a kind of functional equivalent to the νόος and the φανταστικόν as the site in which and with which the nous perceives imaginatively and mystically, cf. LSJ 1954 s. v. φρήν I 3 and S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 220f. for the particular meaning of φανταστικόν.

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effect that aims for the “entry” or building up so to speak of the κενεὸς νόος (frg. 1, v. 11). Yet, in this case, the effect of the σύνθημα seems initially to lead away from mental distraction and carelessness to collection, attentiveness and concentration: “not in a scattered way [. . . ] but with concentration” μηδ’ [. . . ] σποράδην [. . . ] ἀλλὰ στιβαρηδὸν (frg. 2, v. 3–4). The σύνθημα in fragment 2 should help in bringing about the ecstatic experience of cosmic (so called privative) widening, by way of concentration resulting in an “empty nous”, and thus to initiate the νοεῖν, the νόησις of the νοητόν from fragment 1. What could therefore be such a σύνθημα? The adjective τριγλώχινι in verse 2 provides evidence for the answer to this question:119 J points out that in instances where τριγλώχις refers to a weapon, it refers to an arrow, as for example it does twice in Homer’s Iliad.120 The arrow plays a central role precisely in the genesis and the possible shamanistic arch¯e of Greek philosophy, as K has shown.121 In specific terms, there is a precise overlap between the form of the shamanistic arrow that Abaris bore and handed over to Pythagoras122 and the ἀλκή in fragment 2 of the OC. K points out that the shaman’s arrow which Abaris carries, is likewise “triplebladed.”123 Thus it possesses precisely the same shape of blade and tip to which the adjective τριγλώχις in the Chaldaean Oracles refers. K traces the origin of this arrow, i.e. this ritual object, back to the age-old shamanistic traditions of Mongolia and central Asia. He describes its meaning in shamanism, which is the basis for its meaning as σύνθημα in fragment 2 of the OC and in theurgy, as follows124 (here he is relaying a shaman’s account): “Without the power of an arrow 119 The following remarks are to be understood as additions to the analysis of L and M,

120

121 122

123 124

see n. 67, 141 on fr. 2 and aim for the explication of the semantic level relevant to the context of the effect of the σύνθημα, which together with those which L and M discuss, constitute the Chaldaean Oracles as a polyvalent σύνθημα. J, Riders in the Sky: Cavalier Gods and Theurgic Salvation in the Second Century A. D, see n. ∗, 317. She refers to Iliad V, 393 und XI, 507. She sees in frg. 2 of the OC a metaphor for the arduous theurgic ἀναγωγή and its necessary magic and ritual preparations. In addition, I assume that in fr. 2 a specific reference is being made to a real object of shamanistic ecstatic practice: the Phurba. For the following, see K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 13f., 22, 24–26, 43 and 53–55. See K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 7–14 and 97–99 as well as E. R. Psyche. Seelencult und Unsterblichkeitsglaube der Griechen. Darmstadt, 1980, 90–92. K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 22 with note 5 on page 95f. as well as notes 6 and 7 on pages 97–99. K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 13–14. K’s style is certainly suggestive. But in this fashion it suits the style of the OC, which as an esoteric text of practical mysticism is circumscribed by the genre and should develop a kind of “pull” which directs the disciple to the “ecstatic context” and should bring about “the experience of eternity, immobility and perfection of being (“das Erlebnis der

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the shaman could do nothing because an arrow is the symbol of what a shaman must become. And here, too, is the reason why Tibetans use this same word for referring to someone in a state of ecstasy. In that state, the tip of an arrow becomes the point of one’s whole existence. The intense focus [my emphasis] demanded of an arrow maker, unable even for a moment to turn away to the right or left, is also the one-pointedness [my emphasis] essential for shooting an arrow at its mark – and is the same single-pointedness [my emphasis] needed for seeing straight through appearances into a reality where everything is one. There you are the shaper and shooter of yourself, the target and the goal. Everything begins as it ends in that moment, outside of time, when the arrow is shot straight into your heart and penetrates the whole of your being.”125 The three-bladed arrow, the ἀλκὴ τριγλώχις, could thus in ritual use induce a moment of absolute concentration and focus that is the sensation of στιβαρηδόν (v. 4) which can be classified on the phenomenological level of meaning as the state which S calls “privative narrowing or contraction” (“privative Engung”, a most intense feeling or sensation of corporeal as well as mental contraction or focussing, the same sensation is known to us from Parmenides’ fragment DK 28B3, see above, p. 167.). 126 In this state the suspense of subjectivity and the absolutisation of the contemporary (see above p. 160-163), that is, the fusion of subject and object in the νοεῖν happens to the theurgist. K correspondingly associates this level of consciousness with the experience of the stillness of incubation,127 Ewigkeit, Unbewegtheit und Vollkommenheit des Seienden [herbeiführen soll]”) (all quotes from G M, see n. 33, 48, 54 and 61). 125 Cf. with this last half-sentence the phrase in frg. 2, v. 3: πᾶν τριάδος σύνθημα βαλεῖν φρενὶ [. . . ] 126 On this mental state see S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 18–20. What S calls the “privative narrowing” (“privative Engung”) is a kind of intensive corporeal and thus also mental contraction or focus, which is most clearly felt in sudden fear, but also can be provoked as a “narrowing tension” (“engende Spannung”) in the shape of “gathered attention, whereby the [vital] drive is connected with a stimulus or a theme and is not deflected by any kind of widening” (“gesammelter Aufmerksamkeit hervorgerufen werden, wobei der [vitale] Antrieb an einen Reiz oder ein Thema gebunden ist und durch keine Weitung abgelenkt wird”) (S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 18). This form of contraction is distinguished as the state of an “empty consciousness” (“eine Leere im Bewusstsein“), see K, see n. 107, 56. On the abolition of the subject-object division in the usage of the Phurba, see K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 24: “[. . . ] the only real way to hold a phurba, or be carried by it, is by becoming it – to the magical point where you and the phurba are one.” 127 See K, A Story Waiting to Pierce You. Mongolia, Tibet and the Destiny of the Western World, see n. 36, 25f. and 43: “The fact that far too few people are willing to face is that, above all, [Apollo] was a god of ecstasy: of the unearthly stillness found in another state of consciousness, in the ground of prophecy where every part of life is known as one.” K refers here to his investigation of Apollo Oulios as the central divinity of the cult of the healer, which Parmenides himself founded and practised by the ecstatic immersion through incubation (φωλεύειν), see K, In the Dark Places of Wisdom, see n. 33.

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which corresponds in turn (at least in line with the thesis suggested here) with the κενεὸς νόος in v. 11 from fragment 1. It marks, as it were, the transformation of the contraction of concentration into the sensation of a cosmic, more privative widening. Or, in the terminology of the oracle and the theurgy: the och¯ema or aether out of which it consists may now be said to be entirely pure and clear, completely free from disturbing emotions and can serve as a kind of empty vessel (ὑποδοχή, δοχεύς) for the divine influences. This effect finally is described as an integration into the universal working of the world-soul. On the other hand these divine influences, in their perfected form as νοητόν are experienced as a blissful and fulfilling cosmic widening within the meaning of the “Mach-Erfahrung”. Therefore if one tries to explain fragments 1 and 2 of the OC in terms of a “careful phenomenological search for clues” (“vorsichtigen phänomenologischen Spurensuche”) as envisaged above on page 145, and to denote the religious experience explored in fragments 1 and 2, it seems that we have to do with the corporeal dynamic of the vital drive, which is, so to speak, put to work in the ritual practice and by use of the phurba. Thus this process originally begins with the overemphasis of the narrowing/contraction and results in a subsequent privative widening in the sense of the excorporation or “Mach-Erfahrung”. This “Mach-Erfahrung” is considerably connected with the prior narrowing, but follows it. S explains this process with an example: “Eine starke Verschiebung der Gewichte im vitalen Antrieb zur Engung hin, ein entschiedenes Übergewicht der Spannung, kann das Band beider Komponenten so sehr überdehnen, dass es reißt und privative Weitung frei lässt. Ein Muster dieses Vorgangs beschreibt Maxim Gorki. Als Knabe wagte er die Mutprobe, sich auf die Schienen zu legen und einen bergan fahrenden Güterzug über sich hinwegbrausen zu lassen. ‘Ein paar Sekunden lang erlebt man eine merkwürdige Sensation, man versucht, sich so flach und dicht als möglich auf den Boden zu pressen und mit Aufwand des ganzen Willens den leidenschaftlichen Wunsch niederzukämpfen, sich zu bewegen, den Kopf zu heben. [. . . ] Wenn dann der Zug vorüber ist, liegst Du eine Minute oder länger bewegungslos, unfähig, dich zu erheben, als schwämmst du hinter dem Zug her; und es ist, als dehnte sich dein Körper endlos aus, würde leicht, verschmölze in der Luft – und im nächsten Augenblick flögest du über die Erde.’ [. . . ]“ S classifies this testimony in terms of his body-phenomenology as follows: “[Der] Ausschlag zur Enge hin spaltet den vitalen Antrieb und setzt aus ihm eine privative Weitung frei, die leicht und schwebend und endlos weit ist, weil nicht mehr gebunden an zurückhaltende Spannung.” It is noteworthy that also in this example, the experience of integration or input into an inclusive unity, the “fusion of the air” (“Verschmelzen in der Luft”) plays a significant role.128 128 S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 19f.

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2.2 δύναμιν ἀπόρρητον ἔχουσαν – the Strophalos The theurgic σύνθημα of the ἀλκὴ τριγλώχις, the Greek equivalent of the Tibetan phurba, thus produces, expressed phenomenologically, in the soul of the theurgist a corporeal disposition that is suitable for the occurrence of the experience of the cosmic widening, namely the disposition called in the OC the κενεὸν νόον. The corporeal dynamic that is needed to reach the terminal level of consciousness of the νοητόν and in which the holistic corporeal contraction is transformed into the mystical experience of the ecstatically experienced widening and excorporation, is provoked and supported through a further theurgic σύνθημα: the so-called στρόφαλος. 129 Fragment 206 of the OC contains an account of its application and effects. The fragment has been preserved in Psellos, whose interpretation is included into the citation (this is a reworked version of M’s translation): Magic Wheel. ‘Operate with the magic wheel of Hecate.’ [. . . ] Therefore (the oracle) teaches how to operate the rite, truly the movement of such a magic wheel, since it has ineffable power. Στρόφαλος. ἐνέργει περὶ τὸν ῾Εκατικὸν στρόφαλον.‘ [. . . ] Διδάσκει ’ οὖν τὴν τελετὴν ἐνεργεῖν, ἤτοι τὴν κίνησιν τοῦ τοιούτου στροφάλου, ὡς δύναμιν ἀπόρρητον ἔχουσαν. Psellos’ explanation already points to the context in which a strophalos is employed: the initiation (τελετή) as the conclusion of the Chaldaean ritual. In this, the strophalos seems to be treated as a cult object, that is a σύνθημα used in a further ritual sense. During the theurgist’s ritual exercise of concentration it is to be hurled around in a circular movement through the air.130 Its usage in ritual produces two characteristic effects: a spiral motion accompanied by light effects131 and a high, whistling sound, which resembles the sheep- or goatherd’s or pan flute.132 129 The following paragraph is a lightly adapted version of B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mys-

terienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 324. 130 On the specific form of its usage see S. I. J. Hekate Soteira. A Study of Hekate’s Roles in

the Chaldaean Oracles and Related Literature. Atlanta, 1990, 90f., 94–95 and particularly 104f. In addition see also L, see n. 53, 249–252. 131 Since the strophalos was, according to Psellos’ description, made from gold and adorned with a sapphire, one can presume that its interesting light effects were caused by surrounding torchlight and increased the optical effect of its circular movement. See the description of the στρόφαλος in M, see n. 67, 215 on frg. 206. 132 See J, Hekate Soteira. A Study of Hekate’s Roles in the Chaldaean Oracles and Related Literature, see n. 130, 95.

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 133 There

are two noteworthy things in this σύνθημα: firstly, its usage and effect show a connection to the prooimion of the Parmenidian didactic poem. In fragment 8 (ed. G M) in the description of the journey of the narrator to the goddess of the underworld, two sensory impressions in particular are emphasised: a circular movement and the noise of the chariot’s wheels by which the narrator is carried along, whereby a sound like a shepherd’s flute can be heard.134 The strophalos and och¯ema in the Chaldaean Oracles appear to correspond to the chariot that brings Parmenides’ narrator to the place of experiencing the divine. K works from the assumption that Parmenides, or rather the narrator of the journey, wanted to illustrate the transition into the state of incubatory trance by means of these two aspects in his poem,135 which state the Greeks, according to K, often associated with precisely these sensory impressions.136 And precisely these two kinds of sensory experience can be produced and reproduced through the spinning of the “wheel of Hecate” in theurgic ritual. With these parallels in mind one may plausibly assume that the strophalos serves the task of theurgy very well, which S sees as residing in “tuning the souls for the reception of the divinity (“die Seele für den Empfang der Gottheit zu stimmen”).137 The second thing worthy of notice about this sunthema is, that in the framework of Iamblichos’ mystical physiology, where he tries to explain theurgy and its effects, the application of the strophalos correspondingly infuses its listeners with the “anagogic music” it produces which is the same as the “music” or the sound of the ethereal sphere/ the harmony of the sphere.138 For the term used by Iamblichos and in the OC to denote the sound produced by the strophalos, the ῥοῖζος, is at the same time the term used to denote the sound of the heavenly harmony.139 By using the strophalos the theurgist therefore joins herself by her tonally tuned och¯ema to the harmony of the world and to the ethereal sphere which surrounds 133 The following paragraph contains a slightly adapted of version of B, Kraftmetaphysik

und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 324f. 134 These phenomena, among others, are described in verse 6: σύρριγγος and verse 8: κύκλοις.

135 136

137 138

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K, In the Dark Places of Wisdom, see n. 33, 124–126 treats them in detail and imbeds them in their cultural context, the incubation-ritual. K, In the Dark Places of Wisdom, see n. 33, 125. Apart from this for now purely cultish-spiritual aspect, K, In the Dark Places of Wisdom, see n. 33, 130 also gives prominence to the cosmological meaning of this sound. He refers in his notes to the Chaldaean Oracles, but unfortunately without investigating in more detail how far these parallels could extend. My considerations are in debt to this observation of K. T. S. Die Stellung der Theurgie in der Lehre Jamblichs. Frankfurt am Main, 1995, 176. See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 175; cf. also B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 332–344. On this S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 176.

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it.140 Iamblichos correspondingly portrays the effect of this multitonal sound on the soul as follows: [. . . ] for then too, if [the soul] has already reached the [mortal] body [here on earth], it finds favour in all such [terrestrial] melodies, which preserve the divine trace of the harmony of the spheres, remembers [the divine harmony] as a result of this [terrestrial] melodies of divine harmony, is enraptured by the harmony, trusts it and partakes of it, as far as that is possible. Thus can one present the principle of divine prophecy in general. Οὐκοῦν καὶ ἐπειδὰν εἰς σῶμα ἀφίκται, ὅσα ἂν μέλη τοιαῦτα ἀκούσῃ οἷα μάλιστα διασώζει τὸ θεῖον ἴχνος τῆς ἁρμονίας, ἀσπάζεται ταῦτα καὶ ἀναμιμνήσκεται ἀπ’ αὐτῶν τῆς θείας ἁρμονίας, καὶ πρὸς αὐτὴν φέρεται καὶ οἰκειοῦται, μεταλαμβάνει τε αὐτῆς ὅσον οἷόν τε αὐτῆς μετέχειν. Κοινῶς μὲν οὖν οὕτως ἄν τις ἀποδοίη τὴν αἰτίαν τῆς θείας μαντείας·141 In Iamblichos, therefore, the use of the strophalos causes the human soul to partake of the divine harmony (μεταλαμβάνει τε αὐτῆς [τῆς θείας ἁρμονίας]). This partaking can be presented and interpreted theologicaly-soteriologically as input and integration into the demiurgical power of the world soul that envelopes and penetrates into the world. The phenomenological foundation of the use of the 140 See also S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 91: “This

assimilation to celestial bodies was indicated not only by the recovery of the sphere but also by the audible phenomenon that attended this possession: the ‘rushing sound’ (rhoizos) that occurred when the soul was circularly possessed. Iamblichus used the term rhoizos to describe the sounds emitted by the stars whose intervals served as the bases for theurgic chants and melodies [rhoizoumenas enharmonious ph¯onas]. In De Vita Pythagorica Liber Iamblichos attributes the discovery of these sounds to Pythagoras who successfully re-created them in proto-theurgic rites for his disciples (VP 35, 24–36, 15). According to H L rhoizos was a technical term used in late antiquity to describe the sound emitted by the stars; it was also found prominently in the Chaldaean Oracles so it is not surprising that Iamblichos marked the moment of divine possession with a sound reserved to celestial bodies (DM 104, 1). In ritual possession the theurgist was understood to enter the celestial round and its ‘most musical harmony’ (VP 36, 25).” 141 De Mysteriis III 9, 120, 9–III 10, 120, 17; see also section III 9, 118, 6–119, 9. Because it becomes once again clear that Iamblichos does not differentiate the experience of divine inspiration or obsession from the experience of the union with the cosmic-spherical harmony, phenomenologically seen both remain tied to the experience of excorporation. Meanwhile, it should not be surprising that, for Iamblichos, Pythagoras was the first who, as S shows (see the previous note), could hear such music and make it audible – the same Pythagoras, who according to legend received the shamanistic arrow, the later ἀλκὴ τριγλώχις, handed down to him from Abaris (that is, he was the first to be instructed in the shamanistic practice of excorporation).

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strophalos and of its literary depiction in the OC and in Iamblichos should by now be clear as well: This foundation is to be seen in the corporeal experience of cosmic widening and the sensation of excorporation essentially connected with this experience, which results in the unification of self und world as depicted in the Mach-experience. Further indices for this phenomenological base of the theurgic practice thus far can be found in a specific depiction of this process of bringing about the sensations of cosmic widening and excorporation in the Chaldaean Oracles (following M the introductory texts and comments to the original verses are included into the translations): How does the order of angels cause the soul to ascend? ‘By making the soul bright with fire [. . . ]’ (the oracle says). That is, illuminating the soul on all sides and filling it with pure fire, which gives it an unswerving order and power through which it does not rush into material disorder but makes contact with the light of the divine beings.

ἡ δὲ τῶν ἀγγέλων μερὶς πῶς ἀνάγει ψυχήν· τὴν ψυχὴν φέγγουσα ’ πρυρί [. . . ] ‘ (φησί)· τοῦτ’ ἔστι περιλάμπουσα αὐτὴν πανταχόθεν, καὶ πλήρη ποιοῦσα τοῦ ἀχράντου πυρὸς ὃ ἐνδίδωσιν αὐτῇ τάξιν ἄκλιτον καὶ δύναμιν, δι’ ἣν οὐκ ἐκροοιζεῖται εἰς τὴν ὑλικὴν ἀταξίαν ἀλλὰ συνάπτεται τῇ φωτὶ τῶν θείων. (fragment 122) And (the order of angels) causes a separation with matter by ‘[. . . ] lightening (the soul) with a warm breath,’ and causing a rising up through the anagogic life. For the ‘warm breath’ is the sharing of life. Καὶ ἀμιγῆ ποιεῖ πρὸς τὴν ὕλην τῷ [. . . ] πνεύματι θερμῷ κουφί’ ζουσα [. . . ] ‘ καὶ ποιοῦσα μετέωρον διὰ τῆς ἀναγωγοῦ ζωῆς· τὸ γὰρ πνεῦμα τὸ θερμὸν‘ ζωῆς ἐστι μετάδοσις. (fragment 123) ’ The disposition of the soul described in these verses becomes more clear in Emperor Julian’s illustration of the effect of the light of the divine angel on and in the soul by analogy to the effect of sunlight: The sun draws everything out from the earth, it calls them upwards and makes them germinate by virtue of its invigorating and wonderful warmth, as it distinguishes bodies in the finest detail and makes

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light142 that which naturally gravitates downwards. One must understand these effects as evidence of its invisible powers. For if it achieves these effects in bodies by means of corporeal warmth, how will it here not also lead up and raise up the blissful souls by means of the invisible, entirely incorporeal, divine and pure ousia, which resides in its rays? Thus it appears that this light is congenial to the gods, as it is to those who strive to be lead upwards. ἑλκεῖ μὲν ἀπὸ τῆς γῆς πάντα καὶ προσκαλεῖται καὶ βλαστάνειν ποεῖ τῇ ζωπυρίδι καί θαυμαστῇ θέρμῃ, διακρίνων οἶμαι πρὸς ἄκραν λεπτότητα τὰ σώματα, καὶ τὰ φύσει φερόμενα κάτω κουφίζει. Τὰ δὴ τοιαῦτα τῶν ἀφανῶν αὐτοῦ δυνάμεων ποιητέον τεκμήρια· ὁ γὰρ ἐν τοῖς σώμασι διὰ τῆς σωματοειδοῦς θέρμης οὕτω τοῦτο ἀπεργαζόμενος, πῶς οὐ διὰ τῆς ἀφανοῦς καὶ ἀσωμάτου πάντη καὶ θείας καὶ καθαρᾶς ἐν ταῖς ἀκτῖσιν ἱδρυμένης οὐσίας ἕλκξει καὶ ἀνάξει τὰς εὐτυχεῖς ψυχάς· Οὐκοῦν ἐπειδὴ πέφηνεν οἰκεῖον μὲν τοῖς θεοῖς τὸ φῶς τοῦτο καὶ τοῖς ἀναχθῆναι σπεύδουσιν. (Hymnos to the Mother of Gods 172 a-c, ed. R)143 Mention is also made of a nous affected in this way in fragment 128 of the Chaldaean Oracles: “if you extend your mind, illumined by fire, [. . . ]” ([. . . ] ἐκτείνας πύριον νοοῦν [. . . ]), whereby a clear reference is made to νόου ταναοῦ ταναῇ φλογί and to τεῖναι κενεὸν νόον in verses 8 and 11 from fragment 1 of the oracles.144 The corporeal (“leibliche”) effect of the sound and movement of the strophalos on the och¯ema of the soul and on the sentiency of the theurgist which is negotiated in fragments 122, 123, 128 and the passages quoted from Julian’s hymn is thereby translated into the terminology of the contemporary metaphor of light. At the same time, the terminological variations are reminiscent of the already recognised/insinuated phenomenon of the privative widening and excorporation, which is caused by the synaesthetic character of the strophalos in the mental-corporeal constitution or predisposition of the theurgist, prepared or induced by the phurba. The contraction which is provoked before the widening by means of concentrating or focussing on the “exposed presence with absolute identity and subjectivity” now “dissipates into the wideness: a state of sinking and sunkenness” “[Die pri142 At Phaedros 248 c, Plato uses this term (κουφίζει) in order to describe the elevating effect of

proper nourishment on the soul. Julian may be translating it back into the biological sphere of plant growth. 143 See B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 313–316. 144 This expanding and extending tendency finds expression in Julian through βλαστάνειν, διακρίνων [. . . ] πρὸς ἄκραν λεπτότητα τὰ σώματα and κουφίζει.

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vative Engung] exponierter Gegenwart mit absoluter Identität und Subjektivität [löst] sich nun in die Weite hinein [auf ]: ein Zustand des Versinkens und der Versunkenheit.“145 The theurgist’s sentiency arrives now at a state which S, as already mentioned, compares with the experiences of Tibetan hermits or monks and the physicist Ernst Mach. Mach’s loss of self in this moment – and this is crucial for the interpretation of the comments in fragments 122, 123, 128 as well as in the hymn of Julian – is essentially experienced as “light and floating and endlessly wide” (“leicht und schwebend und endlos weit”),146 precisely because it is experienced in contrast to the tension induced earlier. But the sensation of cosmic widening is now, however, “no longer tied to the earlier induced tension” (“nicht mehr gebunden an [sie]).”147 Behind the portrayals in the Chaldaean Oracles and the portrayals of the Neoplatonists, theurgy therefore shows itself once again to be a shamanistic ritual practice. Through the usage of phurba and strophalos among other things, this practice initiates a kind of over-stimulation, first of the pole of the narrowing or corporeal contraction through the phurba, then of the pole of the widening through the strophalos. The purpose is to induce a religious experience in the form of what S calls the excorporation. Theurgy is thus a masterful instrumentalisation of the dynamic of the vital drive for a religious-cultural purpose, whereby the engendered experiences of privative narrowing/contraction and privative widening, that is, the excorporation, is negotiated in the vocabulary of Middle and Neoplatonic (light) metaphysics and ontology. Theurgy’s “beauty” is reflected in the analogy or equation of its effect with light. Hermeias exactly compares this light with beauty and its effects.148 If, as assumed, fragments 122 and 123 address the anagogic effect of the strophalos and mark it out on account of effect of inducing broadness as a pure and warming light of the angels, they distinguish it at the same time as exceptionally beautiful. The ἀλκὴ τριγλώχις and the στρόφαλος as συνθήματα possess in this context, however, their aesthetic worth primarily because of their function and effect: the art of the theurgist possesses its purpose in obtaining particular “effects ”,149 for 145 S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 50. 146 S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 20. 147 S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 20. Cf. the account of the experience of the dynamic relation be-

tween a contracting tension and widening given by an anorexic woman, which occurs because of excess tension in the vital drive caused by intensely narrowing/contracting hunger: “Sehr starkes Hungern konnte sie in einen beseligenden Schwebezustand bringen, in dem auch die Dinge um sie herum von einer Luftigkeit, Beschwingtheit, Durchsichtigkeit und einer himmlischen Schwerelosigkeit wurden. Sie selbst meinte, so ungefähr müsse es den Engeln zumute sein” in S, Der Leib, see n. 94, 20. 148 See above p. 156f. 149 De Mysteriis II 11, 96, 8–9: τὴν ἐνεργὸν τῶν ἱερέων τέχνην.

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it is the “(ritual) acts”,150 “not the (theoretical) knowledge of (the divine) in itself, which connects the theurgist to the gods.”151 [. . . ] Only the enactment of the holy occult ceremonies, which will be carried out in a way that corresponds to the divine and is raised above all intellectual insight, and only first the strength of the ineffable symbols [and sunth¯emata], comprehensible to the gods alone, establishes the theurgic unity [with the divine] [. . . ] those symbols [. . . ] produce out of themselves the effect proper to them [. . . ] And that [. . . ], which awakens the divine will (for unification with us human beings), are indeed just the divine symbols [and sunth¯emata]) alone. ἀλλ’ ἡ τῶν ἔργων τῶν ἀρρήτων καὶ ὑπὲρ πᾶσαν νόησιν θεοπρεπῶς ἐνεργουμένων τελεσιουργία ἥ τε τῶν νοουμένων τοῖς θεοῖς μόνον συμβόλων ἀφθέγκτων δύναμις ἐντίθησι τὴν θεουργικὴν ἕνωσιν. Διόπερ οὐδὲ τῷ νοεῖν αὐτὰ ἐνεργοῦμεν· ἔσται γὰρ οὕτω νοερὰ αὐτῶν ἡ ἐνέργεια καὶ ἀφ’ ἡμῶν ἐνδιδομένη· τὸ δ’ οὐδέτερόν ἐστιν ἀληθές. Καὶ γὰρ μὴ νοούντων ἡμῶν αὐτὰ τὰ συνθήματα ἀφ’ ἑαυτῶν δρᾷ τὸ οἰκεῖον ἔργον, καὶ ἡ τῶν θεῶν, πρὸς οὓς ἀνήκει ταῦτα, ἄρρητος δύναμις αὐτὴ ἀφ’ ἑαυτῆς ἐπιγιγνώσκει τὰς οἰκείας εἰκόνας, ἀλλ’ οὐ τῷ διεγείρεσθαι ὑπὸ τῆς ἡμετέρας νοήσεως· In this description, the συνθήματα are assigned the ontological status of divine forces (δυνάμεις), that is particular ideas which are beautiful on account of their origin in the intelligible and divine, for example as “light of the angels.” They are therefore beautiful as mediators of unity and harmony.152 They convey these characteristics in the theurgic ritual to the soul, that is the theurgist produces them in the soul by application of the συνθήματα.153 The συνθήματα are beautiful in their very working, in their works and their effects in the soul. Ontologically speaking, the συνθήματα, which as forces (δυνάμεις) have specific effects, are classified aesthetically according to these effects (über eben diese Wirkungen).154 Phenomenologically speaking, they are beautiful because when used they develop certain natural 150 De Mysteriis II 11, 96, 13: τὰ θεῖα ἔργα. 151 De Mysteriis II, 11, 96, 13–14. 152 See J. H. Schönheit und Bild im Neuplatonismus. In: Neuplatonismus und Ästhetik.

Ed. by V. O. L and C. O. Berlin, New York, 2007, 43–57. 153 On this see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 166f. who

cites Proklos here: “Proclus says: ‘Hence, in the mixture of many things the theurgists united the aforementioned [divine] emanations and made the unity derived from many things resemble that unity which is the whole prior to the many’ (CMAG, VI, 150, 28–30). Without this collection of things, each of which ‘bears a certain characteristic of the god’ (CMAG, VI, 150, 27) Proclus says the theurgist could not invoke him”. 154 On this Platonic conception of δύναμις see B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 27–30. On the ontological

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impulses as well as synaesthetic characteristics. These influence the vital drive and thereby the corporeal state and the sentiency of the theurgist so that finally the state of excorporation happens to her or him. The excorporation is experienced in the best case as νοητόν, that is as a blissful union with the cosmos in the medium of the Divine itself and thus as unity and harmony, and in turn as “beautiful”. Also here; what is beautiful is what induces a particular effect. ¯ OOUEIO ¯ ¯ ¯ The sound of the fire – the Chaldaean Oracles as 2.3 OIO EEIEIAA E: magical text If one takes into account the performative quality of the Chaldaean Oracles beside its content, the text itself in the context discussed above becomes a theurgic σύνθημα.155 Here the reference to Parmenides and his didactic poem also provides the first pieces of evidence. G M observes, in a continuation of K ’s arguments, that the explication of the goddesse’s explication about being is or operates like “a concentrating agent, that operates with the magical persuasive power of language” (“ein Konzentrationsmittel [. . . ], das mit der magischen Überzeugungskraft der Sprache operiert”)156 and thus affects the consciousness, the mental disposition of the recipient “through the magic of the words” “durch die Zauberkunst der Worte”157 and aims at a “direct experience of reality in its immobility [its “stillness” and concentration], perfection and indivisibility” (“direktes Erlebnis der Wirklichkeit in ihrer Unbewegtheit [ihrer “Stille” und Konzentration], Vollkommenheit und Untrennbarkeit”).158 What is important here with regard to the textual as well as the purely phonetic structure of the OC is the monotonous repetition of sounds, words, and sentences which together form a performative act of speech directly having an effect on the soul and the theurgist’s sentiency.159

155 156 157 158 159

status of the συνθήματα as δυνάμεις in the Chaldaean Oracles, in Iamblichos and Proklos see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 162–169, who bases his interpretations on, among others, M’s investigations. On this and on the following observations on the text of Parmenides’ didactic poem see G M, see n. 33, 52–69. G M, see n. 33, 61. G M, see n. 33, 61. G M, see n. 33, 63; cf. also ibid. 66–68. G M, see n. 33, 59. It is the sound of the name of the divinity which is the divinity and to create this sound or to utter it means to enter into unity with the divine, see M, see n. 33, 482 and 484. T. M. G. Language, Signs and Magic. In: Envisioning Magic. A Princeton Seminar and Symposium. Ed. by P. S and H. G. K. Leiden, New York, and Köln, 1997, 255–272, 256f. demonstrates that in magic (and thus also in theurgy), substance and strength are ascribed to those words of a language which are directly associated with the speaker of the word. He concludes: “Thus the power of language inserts itself into the binding interplay of powers in the cosmos”. If we take both observations together,

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This layer of the text’s effectiveness is flanked by further textual properties that mark an esoteric text; for example indetermination, ambiguities, contradictions and puzzles.160 Here it is a matter, as M emphasises,161 of engaging mentally with these paradoxical structures, in order to leave behind the usual discursive thinking. The goal is therefore initially to “empty” one’s mind and sentiency, that is one’s noos, by means of this exercise, in order to make room for the subsequent experience of the Divine, which assumes or demands a kind of unobstructed mental disposition. It can be observed that the Chaldaean Oracles demonstrate these kinds of structural elements162 of an esoteric text and at the same explore the associated effects in the consciousness of the listener. We should direct our attention therefore to the performative-tonal level of these verses and we should investigate fragment 1 as an example. Salient, first of all, in their frequency alone are the almost imploring repetitions of the central term “νοητόν”, which marks the mental condition to be achieved and the experience of the Holy/Divine: νοητόν [. . . ] νοεῖν νόου [. . . ] νοῶν [. . . ] τὸ νοητὸν ἐκεῖνο [. . . ] νόου ταναοῦ ταναῇ φλογὶ [. . . ] τὸ νοητὸν ἐκεῖνο [. . . ] νοῆσαι [. . . ] κενεὸν νόον τὸ νοητόν. In a similar fashion to the enumeration of the σῆματα on the way to the truth that the goddess in Parmenides’ poem shows the narrator, we should less expect in fragment 1 to be given a clear and explicit philosophical determination of the νοητόν. Rather, next to the semantic information, the aim of these massive repetitions and variations seems to be “deeply effective in a phonetical and rhythmical way in the soul” “auf phonetischer und rhythmischer Ebene [. . . ] tief in die Seele ein[zu]wirken”.163 How may

160 161 162

163

we can assume that according to this understanding of language, the power of words in theurgy resides among other things in their sound. See G M, see n. 33, 46–48 and M, see n. 33, 481; cf. also above p. 163f. M, see n. 33, 481. See above p. 162-165. A considerable structural element of the OC as an esoteric text is in my view the finding that these verses can function as well as be understood on multiple levels: as divine revelation, which expresses theological-ontological matters, as epiphanies, as a portrayal of mental levels and experiences of extreme states of corporal dynamic, as evidence for the techniques and instruments (phurba und strophalos) that are used to reach these states, and the verses themselves on the level of their phonetic structure can function or operate as a σύνθημα of this kind. G M, see n. 33, 65. This is true in comparison also for the sound figure of the homoioteleuton as for example ῾Εκάτην με θεὴν in frg. 221, v. 2 or the paradoxical juncture of the ἀρρήτων ἐπέων in frg. 219, v. 4. Further examples of this kind of performativity can be found in the OC. M, see n. 33, 486 likewise assumes that this kind of language (and its usage) should not be primarily understood as rational and comprehensible, but rather essentially conceived in effect of the rhythm in which its power is founded. Thus a language of this kind reveals the imaginative and at the same time the creative potential of language, and reflects by way of this revelation and by the experience connected with it that which is hidden in reality. That which is described is at the same time as a special experience of corporal dynamic

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one, however, determine this effect more precisely? In their works on the interplay between magic and language, G and M agree that it is merely sound (φονή) by means of which it is possible to enter into unity with the Divine (the quotation from Valéry in note 163 also conveys this).164 In particular, it is the vowels which mark the contact-zone with the Divine and which, when spoken or sung, give sound to the divine reality. It is the sound of the holy, in itself a nonsensical vowel sequence, which conveys meaning or rather is meaningful and meaning itself.165 Due to this, the verses of the Chaldaean Oracles become themselves part of the event and do not merely portray a text with ontological-theological content. The strength of this language is understood by G and M (who thus specify their central observations in a kind of theurgic fashion) as its power to adopt its listeners by the sounds namely of its sequence of vowels to the interaction with the creative world-powers.166 According to Nikomachos of Gerasa, in their tonal interaction these vowels cause the harmony of the spheres to ring out: they are “sounding elements (phon¯eenta stoicheia)” of the music of the spheres.167 It fol-

164

165 166

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produced or induced by the rhythmic-tonal level of the text in the soul’s or sentiency’s resonance medium for these sounds; G, see n. 159, 265: “He who pronounces the holy sounds [my emphasis] thereby captures the divine essence.” To illustrate this G, see n. 159, cites Paul Valéry: “The value of a poem resides in the indissolubility of sound and sense. Now this is a condition that seems to demand the impossible. There is no relation between the sound and the meaning of a word. [. . . ] Yet it is the poet’s business to give us the feeding of an intimate union between the word and the mind. This must be considered, strictly speaking, a marvelous result. [. . . ] I use marvelous [Valery’s emphasis] in the sense we give that word when we think of the miracles and prodigies of ancient magic. It must not be forgotten that for centuries poetry was used for purposes of enchantment. Those who took part in these strange operations had to believe in the power of the word, and far more in the efficacy of its sound than its significance [my emphasis]“ (ibid. 267). M, see n. 33, 482–486 and G, see n. 159, 265 and 267 as well as S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 176–188, who cites in this context a passage from the Asklepios of the Corpus Hermeticum (CH XVI, 2 [ed. N]): “For the Greeks, O King, who make logical demonstrations, use words emptied of power, and this very activity is what constitutes their philosophy, a mere noise of words. But we [Egyptians] do not [so much] use ‘words’ (logoi), but ‘sounds’ (ph¯onai) which are full of effects” (S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 181). On this see M, see n. 33, 494–497. M, see n. 33, 495–499, in particular 499: “Ultimately the initiate says to each of the cosmic elements the whole string of vowels, and ends by invoking the God “as the cosmos: o u o¯ o¯ o¯ aaa eeeee e¯e¯e¯e¯e¯e¯ iiiiiii“ (PGM 13.824–40) The initiate here is called upon to enact with his body [my emphasis] and with his voice the entire cosmic scheme, all of which is effected by chanting alphabetical nonsense. It is a song both human and divine and displays fully the multidimensional power that the stoicheia [M’s emphasis] had gathered by late antiquity. Archaic speculation lived on in the ‘elemental’ piety of the magical texts”, and G, see n. 159, 259: “Thus the power of language inserts itself into the binding interplay of powers in the cosmos. Here words do have, [. . . ] ‘the power of touching a substance”’. See M, see n. 33, 498.

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lows from this that, in the magic papyri, and with some probability also in the Chal¯ ¯ daean Oracles (although no direct vowel sequence in the form of the AEEIOU X 168 appears in the extant fragments ), the Pythagorean harmony of the spheres was often made audible and perceptible as a vowel sequence which was intended to be ¯ ¯ which is supposed to evoke sung. The sound of the vowel sequence AEEIOU O, the Divine, corresponds therefore in the performance of the theurgist with some probability exactly to the ῥοῖζος, which is produced by the strophalos.169 M points out that here an archaic and primordial trait of the theurgic language and religiosity can be observed, in the musicality of which the imaginative and creative potential of language is revealed. She therefore thinks that the linguistic sensitivity of the shamanistic tradition is continued in the magical papyri of late antiquity (“linguistische Sensibilität der schamanistischen Tradition170 [in den magischen Papyri der Spätantike] fortgesetzt [wird]”).171 Taking this into account it is certainly no coincidence that all vowels are to be found (at some points, multiple times) in v.5 of fragment 1, which is central for understanding ritual in the OC and its general aims: ὥς τι νοῶν, οὐ κεῖνο νοήσεις· ἔστι γὰρ ἀλκῆς. It is to be assumed, therefore, that the sound of the vowel sequence of this verse should directly, that is, purely tonally, affect the sentiency’s corresponding resonant-medium – the och¯ema. Likewise the effect caused by the vowel sound should correspond with the effect of the strophalos on the theurgist’s sentiency, which effect exists in the experience of excorporation, that is in the generation of unity with the cosmos and with the powers that move through it. Like the στρόφαλος, these verses of the OC produce their effect through a harmonisation of the structures, movements and vibrations of the aether of the och¯ema with those of the aether that encompasses and traverses the world. Expressed in phenomenological terms: these verses engender their effect by sound and by the accompanying stimulus and change of the vital drive (the “vitaler Antrieb”) and synaesthetic characteristics, stimulating, as it were, the pole of the widening of the corporeal dynamic and facilitating by this an experience of the divine in the process of excorporation.172 This consciousness- and perception-transforming effect 168 Frg. 2, V. 3, among others, suggests that the OC themself could be positioned in a context of

169 170 171 172

magical ritual practices and a magic language comprehension: the φρήν, in which the phurba is to realise its effect, is namely also the site of action (Wirkort) of the linguistic incantations, see G M, see n. 33, 60 on the Choephoroi, V. 331–333 of Aischylos. On this cf. S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 176–188. Which finds well-known representatives in figures such as Orpheus, Pythagoras, Parmenides or Empedokles. See M, see n. 33, 493. See De Mysteriis I 12, 42, 9–17: “It does not, as the name [proskl¯esis, 42, 6] seems to indicate, incline the intellect of the Gods to men, but according to the truth itself – as it means to teach – the invocation makes the intelligence of men fit to participate in the Gods, [S’s emphasis], ele-

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of the vowels and their merging with the so-called voces mysticae in the OC itself is negotiated, in (among other places) fragments 109 and 110: But the Paternal Intellect does not receive the will of (the soul) until (the soul) emerges from forgetfulness and speaks a word, remembering the pure, paternal token. ἀλλ’ οὐκ εἰσδέχεται κείνης τὸ θέλειν πατρικὸς νοῦς, // μέχρις ἂν ἐξέλθῃ λήθης καὶ ῥῆμα λαλήσῃ // μνήμην ἐνθεμένη πατρικοῦ συνθήματος ἁγνοῦ. (frg. 109) Seek out the channel of the soul, from where it in a certain order to serve the body; seek you will raise it up again to its order by combining (ritual) action with a sacred word.’ That is, seek the source of the soul, from where (the soul) has been led astray and has served the body; and how someone, raising it up and awakening it by means of the telestic rites, might lead it back up from where it has come. δίζεο ψυχῆς ὀχετόν, ὅθεν ἔν τινι τάξει // σώματι θητεύσας‘ ἐπὶ τάξιν // αὖθις ἀναστήσεις, ἱερῷ λόγῳ ἔργον ἑνώσας.“ Τοῦτ’ ἔστιν· ζήτει τὴν ἀρχὴν τῆς ψυχῆς, πόθεν παρήχθη καὶ ἐδούλευσε σώματι καὶ πῶς ἄν τις ταύτην ἀναστησάμενος καὶ ἐγείρας διὰ τῶν τελεστικῶν ἔργων ἐπαναγάγῃ ὅθεν ἀφίκετο. (frg. 110) The word, the holy and powerful word, has an uplifting and widening effect in ritual: ἀναστήσεις, ἀναστησάμενος, ἐπαναγάγῃ. It is, expressed in Chaldaean terms, the anagogically effective channel, whose effect is thus frequently compared with the light-transmitting, transforming and widening effect of light or fire.173 Because of its tonal structure and nature, the text of the Chaldaean Oracles becomes itself a ψυχῆς ὀχετόν (frg. 110, v. 1). The effect of this is described by Proklos vates it to the Gods, and harmonizes it with them through orderly persuasion. Whence, indeed, the names of the Gods are adapted to sacred concerns, and with the other divine sunth¯emata they are anagogic and have the power to unite these invocations to the Gods.“Οὐχ ὡς τοὔνομα, ὥς γε οὕτω δόξαι, αὐτόθεν ἐμφαίνει, τὸν νοῦν τῶν θεῶν προσκλίνουσαι τοῖς ἀνθρώποις, ἀλλὰ κατ’ αὐτὸ τὸ ἀληθὲς ὡς βούλεται ἀναδιδάσκειν, τὴν γνὼμην τῶν ἀνθρώπων ἐπιτηδείαν ἀπεργαζόμεναι πρὸς τὸ μετέχειν τῶν θεῶν, καὶ ἀνάγουσαι αὐτὴν πρὸς τοὺς θεοὺς καὶ διὰ πειθοὺς ἐμμελοῦς συναρμόζουσαι. ῞Οθεν δὴ καὶ ὀνόματα θεῶν ἱεροπρεπῆ καὶ τἄλλα θεῖα συνθήματα ἀναγωγὰ ὄντα πρὸς τοῦς θεοὺς συνάπτειν αὐτὰς δύναται. (Translation from S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 177). 173 On this see above p. 175-178.

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in his Commentary on Plato’s Republic in a mixture of metaphysical and almost phenomenological174 terminology.175 Proklos writes: This [poetry] is the highest and full of divine benefits; it establishes the soul in the very causes of things, and through an unspeakable unity it draws together that which is filled to that which fills; it subjects the former in an immaterial way and without touch to the illumination, it invests the latter to share the light; according to the oracle [OC frg. 66]: ‘As the channels are mingled together [this poetry] accomplishes/perfects the works of imperishable fire’176 [This poetry] produces one divine connection between that which is sharing and that which is being shared and produces one unifying mixture. It completely establishes that which is inferior in that which is superior. It brings about that only the more divine is functioning, while the inferior is obscured and hides its identity in the greater. This mania is superior to self-control – to say in conclusion – and is defined only by the divine measure itself. ἣ μέν ἐστιν ἀκροτάτη καὶ πλήρης τῶν θειῶν ἀγαθῶν, καὶ αὐτοῖς ἐνιδρύουσα τὴν ψυχὴν τοῖς αἰτίοις τῶν ὄντων, κατὰ τινά τε ἕνωσιν ἄρρητον εἰς ταὐτὸν ἄγουσα τῷ πληροῦντι τὸ πληρούμενον, καὶ τὸ μὲν ἀΰλως καὶ ἀναφῶς ὑποστρωννύουσα πρὸς τὴν ἔλλαμψιν, τὸ δὲ προκαλουμένη πρὸς τὴν μετάδοσιν τοῦ φωτός, μιγνυμένων ’ δ’ ὀχετῶν πυρὸς ἀφθίτου ἔργα τελοῦσα‘ κατὰ τὸ λόγιον. ἕνα δὲ σύνδεσμον θεῖον ἀπεργαζομένη τοῦ μετεχομένου καὶ μετέχοντος καὶ σύγκρασιν ἑνοποιόν, ὅλον μὲν τὸ καταδεέστερον ἑδράζουσα ἐν τῷ κρείττονι, τὸ δὲ θειότερον μόνον ἐνεργεῖν ὑπεσταλμένου τοῦ καταδεεστέρου καὶ ἀποκρύπτοντος ἐν τῷ κρείττονι τὴν σφετέραν ἰδιότητα παρασκευάζουσα. αὕτη δὴ οὖν μανία μέν ἐστιν σωφροσύνης κρείττων ὡς συνελόντι φάναι, κατ’ αὐτὸ δὲ τὸ θεῖον μέτρον ἀφορίζεται.177 174 C. A. K. Channels of Imperishable Fire. The Beginnings of Christian Mystical Poetry and

Dioscorus of Aphrodito. New York, Washington D. C., Baltimore, San Francisco etc., 1995, 35 notices, following the work of A S, that Proklos in this section focusses on the effect of poetry on its listeners. 175 Proklos, In R. I, 178, 11–18; English translation by K, see n. 174, 34f. 176 As is to be expected in an esoteric text, the syntactic construction of this verse is unclear. While M, whose translation I have used to adapt K’s translation, understands the genitive μιγνυμένων [. . . ] ὀχετῶν as a genitive absolute, K makes it depend on ἔργα and understands the second genitive πυρὸς ἀφθίτου as object of the participle μιγνυμένων. 177 Also on this see K, see n. 174, 33–38.

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According to this, the performativity of this kind of – theurgic-shamanistic – poetry is manifested in an experience of integration and unity, which is further described as an almost delimited unity with the divine and as a loss of self (ὅλον μὲν τὸ καταδεέστερον ἑδράζουσα ἐν τῷ κρείττονι, τὸ δὲ θειότερον μόνον ἐνεργεῖν ὑπεσταλμένου τοῦ καταδεεστέρου καὶ ἀποκρύπτοντος ἐν τῷ κρείττονι τὴν σφετέραν ἰδιότητα παρασκευάζουσα). We can deduce a phenomenological feature from Proklos’ description of the ψυχῆς ὀχετόν above, if we understand it as a description of excorporation that is a consequence of the tonal effect of the OC and assume that the text of the OC, as σύνθημα, has a similar effect as the phurba and strophalos. If we understand the anag¯og¯e as a path to excorporation, then the OC is an anagogic text that guides the experience of the human through a manipulation of the vital drive (or, in the terms of Iamblichos and the OC: of the soul and its och¯ema) to an altered form of perception – the text itself becomes an ὀχετός!178 In conclusion, it may be seen from these observations that the Chaldaean Oracles, which themselves could become a ritual component of theurgic practice, obey (as do the phurba and strophalos) a corresponding effect-aesthetics and accordingly are classified in the terminology of Platonic metaphysics of light used to describe and explain such effects. Fragment 66 of the OC and Proklos’ interpretation of this verse show this accordingly. The aesthetic content or value of this kind of language and text lies, as the citation from Proklos clearly shows, in its ability to create an integrating and harmonious unity in the och¯ema,179 which causes the πατρικὸν σύνθημα ἁγνὸν to be remembered (μνήμην ἐνθημένη).180 This means that its aesthetic value is also to be seen in its contribution to the emergence of a (time and context) specific experience of the Divine and the Intelligible (in the sense already explained in chapter one). Plato seems to have attributed precisely this function (as shown above) to the Beautiful in the dialogue Phaidros (at least in Iamblichos’ view): According to this view it is the beautiful which, according to the Neoplatonic reading, traverses the entire cosmos and as an expression of power of the first principle/the highest divinity points to it. In particular fragment 66 of the OC 181 , to which Proklos refers, expresses this integrating and connecting effect:182 accord178 Cf. K, see n. 174, 37f. 179 This matter is expressed in the OC frg. 71: “(Apollo) [. . . ] ‘priding himself on the harmony

of light’ as one of the theurgists says”. (᾿Απόλλων) [. . . ] ‘ἁρμονίᾳ φωτὸς γαυρούμενος [. . . ]’ ὥς φησί τις τῶν θεουργῶν; on this cf. also K, see n. 174, 209, note 186, who likewise describes a unifying and containing and diffusing impression, which is similar to what is experienced during the “Mach-Erfahrung” and occurs in the φανταστικόν. 180 On the meaning of the anamn¯esis in theurgic practice and reflection see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 24f. and 164f. 181 OC, frg. 66: “μιγνυμένων δ’ ὀχετῶν πυρὸς ἀφθίτου ἔργα τελοῦσα”. 182 Cf. also the fragments 42 and 43. That the so-called Iynges originally belonged to love magic, matches per analogiam very well: all these practices prepare the och¯ema in ritual, in terms of

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ing to Proklos, the superimposition of theurgically active practices and συνθήματα (for in my view that is what is meant by “μιγνυμένων δ’ ὀχετῶν“) produces a unifying and integrating totality in the consciousness of the theurge, a θεῖος συνδεσμός and a σύγκρισις ἑνοποιός. According to S, who here refers to the VP 36, 25, this totality is expressed for Iamblichos as an experience of unification or integration of the soul of the theurgist into the heavenly circular motion and its musical harmony.183 Iamblichos can, therefore, in the framework of Neoplatonic light metaphysics describe well this ritually induced, unusual state of consciousness, which simultaneously allows the phenomenological content to show through:184 And meanwhile an untouchable and incorporate pneuma encircles (κύκλῳ) those [persons/priests] who lie there, so that there is no clear view of it, but [rather] a total perception differentiated [by sight] and the consciousness [of it] is there. For it, when it appears, causes a buzzing (ῥοιζομένου) and it pours forth from all sides [around the persons/priests who lie there] without contact, [although] its [produces] wonderful effects and thus brings about the liberation of the soul and the body from the emotions. At other times, however, the gaze is captured and the eyes close, after a radiant and soft light is shone once more. [. . . ] The remaining senses are meanwhile awake and together perceive how the gods manifest themselves in the light. Καὶ ποτὲ μὲν ἀναφὲς καὶ ἀσώματον πνεῦμα περιέχει κύκλῳ τοὺς κατακειμένους, ὡς ὅρασιν μὲν αὐτοῦ μὴ παρεῖναι, τὴν δ’ ἄλλην συναίσθησιν καὶ παρακολούθησιν ὑπάρχειν, ῥοιζομένου τε ἐν τῷ εἰσιέναι καὶ περικεχυμένου πανταχόθεν ἄνευ τινὸς ἐπαφῆς, θαυμαστά τε ἔργα ἀπεργαζομένου πρὸς ἀπαλλαγὴν παθῶν ψυχῆς attuning, integrating effects, for the reception of er¯os and its effect; also see above note 179 with fragment 71. 183 S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 91; cf. K, In the Dark Places of Wisdom, see n. 33, 128 for observations on the incubatory trance and also B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 332–344. 184 Translation from B, Kraftmetaphysik und Mysterienkult im Neuplatonismus. Ein Aspekt neuplatonischer Philosophie, see n. 40, 404f. see also ibid. 405–410 and B, Inkubation, Photagogie und Seelengefährt bei Iamblich. Zum Zusammenhang von Mystik, Ritual und Metaphysik in Iamblichs De Mysteriis und in den Chaldaeischen Orakeln, see n. 47, 86–89. The phenomenological basis can be heard for example in συναίσθησιν or in καὶ συναισθάνονται πῶς εὶς τὸ φῶς οἱ θεοὶ ἐκφαίνονται and in the explanation of the θαυμαστά τε ἔργα [. . . ] πρὸς ἀπαλλαγὴν παθῶν ψυχῆς τε καὶ σώματος. Likewise the expression of a φωτὸς ἐπιλάμψαντος λαμπροῦ καὶ ἠρεμαίου is to be associated (following S) with the sensation of widening and excorporation or to be understood as a light-metaphysical expression of these sensations.

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τε καὶ σώματος. ῎Αλλοτε δὲ φωτὸς ἐπιλάμψαντος λαμπροῦ καὶ ἠρεμαίου κατέχεται μὲν ἡ τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν ὄψις καὶ συμμύει τε [. . . ]· αἱ δ’ ἄλλαι αἰσθήσεις διεγηγερμέναι τυγχάνουσι, καὶ συναισθάνονται πῶς εἰς τὸ φῶς οἱ θεοὶ ἐκφαίνονται.185 After the usage/ritual application of the sunth¯emata, the apparitions, that is, the epiphanies of the gods in this particular state of consciousness, or as the expression of different levels of consciousness, move into the foreground (καὶ συναισθάνονται πῶς εὶς τὸ φῶς οἱ θεοὶ ἐκφαίνονται). We will now examine these epiphanies and their possible aesthetics. 3. “For her hair appears dazzingly in shimmering light” [OC, frg. 55.] – aesthetic levels of divine epiphanies In what follows, we will look at those fragments of the OC in which the goddess Hecate is thematised, both in respect to her metaphysical causality in the generation of epiphanies as well as in respect to the different forms of her epiphanies themselves. Thus, various approaches can be derived from fragments 51 and 53 of the OC that relate Hecate’s metaphysical function in this context to the lightmetaphysical considerations of Iamblichos186 on the actions of the gods in the world:187 It seems to me that the Oracles also speak about this light when giving instructions concerning the principle of life by which the source of souls animates the All. It says: ‘Around the hollow of her right flank a great stream of the primordially-generated Soul gushes forth in abundance, totally ensouling light, fire, aether, worlds.’ Τοῦτό μοι δοκεῖ καὶ τὰ λόγια λέγειν τὸ φῶς, ἡνίκα ἂν διδάσκοντα περὶ τῆς ψυχώσεως, ἣν ἡ πηγὴ τῶν ψυχῶν τὰ πάντα ψυχοῖ. λέγῃ· δεξιτερῆς μὲν γὰρ λαγόνος περὶ χήραμα χόνδρων // πολλὴ ’ ἅδην βλύζει ψυχῆς λιβὰς ἀρχιγενέθλου // ἄρδην ἐμψυχοῦσα φάος πῦρ αἰθέρα κόσμους.‘ (frg. 51) Thus, even the Oracles call the divisible perceptions of the Demiurge ‘Thoughts’: ‘[. . . ] after the Paternal Thoughts I, the Soul, am situated, animating the All with my heat.’ 185 De Mysteriis III 2, 103, 14–104, 8. 186 See above p. 152f. on De Mysteriis I 9, 30, 13–31, 18. 187 On the reference in these fragments to the goddess Hecate, see M, see n. 67, 163 on frg.

51 and 164 on frg. 53.

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Οὕτω δὴ καὶ τὰ λόγια τὰς μεριστὰς τοῦ δημιουργοῦ νοήσεις δια’ νοίας‘ προσείρηκε· [. . . ] μετὰ δὴ πατρικὰς διανοίας // ψυχὴ ἐγὼ ’ ναίω θέρμῃ ψυχοῦσα τὰ πάντα.‘ (frg. 53) Both πολλὴ [. . . ] λιβὰς (frg. 51, v. 4) and θέρμῃ (frg. 53, v. 4) could be considered (in view of Proklos’ introduction to fragment 51) to be expressions in the OC’s terminology of the divine light (τὸ φῶς) or fire the function of which is explained in metaphysical terms both by Iamblichos and Proklos. In my view, they are also to be understood as the emanation-forms of the goddess that have an effect on the aetherial och¯ema. Here the goddess appears in a mystical sense to be light and warmth, that is, as M observes, as “anagogic power”188 (in the sense already explained). The warmth can be read on the phenomenological level of meaning as reference to the effect of the corporeal widening and excorporation. This effect is experienced in the epiphany, or as an epiphany itself. As luminous and warming-anagogic emanations of the goddess, λιβάς and θέρμη find their equivalence in Iamblichos in the “advancing light, [that the divinity] lets shine from herself into the soul”, in order “[to let her] true appearances [. . . ] shine forth into the och¯ema.189 (προδραμόν τι εἰς αὐτὴν φῶς ἀφ’ ἑαυτῶν ἐπιλαμπόντων [. . . ] τὰ δ’ ἀληθῆ [φαντάσματα] [. . . ] ἐλλάμπει)”.190 Once again the narrow intertwining of light-metaphysical descriptions with the description of specific mystical levels of consciousness on the basis of the phenomenological results of widening and excorporation becomes recognisable. Here it is in the form of the combination of φῶς, πῦρ and θέρμη, which can already be observed in a very similar form at De Mysteriis III 2, 103, 14–104, 9. These levels of consciousness (which may also be classified as levels of a soul’s purity as well) may be differentiated further in respect to the epiphanies of Hecate that occur in them, and which may be defined, at least partially, by their relation to the νοητόν as the experience of the completed excorporation. Hecate is presented by the theological hierarchy of the Chaldaean Oracles as particularly suitable for this purpose, as she is the theological version of the Platonic 188 M, see n. 67, 164 on frg. 53. 189 On the och¯ema as the aspect of the soul in which the epiphany occurs, see S, Theurgy and

the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 221 as well as J. F. F. Iamblichean Dream Theory. In: Mediators of the Divine. Horizons of Prophecy, Divination, Dreams and Theurgy in Mediterranean Antiquity. Ed. by R. M. B. Atlanta, 1998, 155–164, 159, Note. 9. 190 De Mysteriis III 14, 132, 19–133, 1 and II 10, 94, 18–19; on that see B, Inkubation, Photagogie und Seelengefährt bei Iamblich. Zum Zusammenhang von Mystik, Ritual und Metaphysik in Iamblichs De Mysteriis und in den Chaldaeischen Orakeln, see n. 47, 88–89. Iamblichos also takes up an exhortation here that is used in frg. 145: “[. . . ] νοεῖν μορφὴν φωτὸς προταθεῖσαν”.

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world soul. S has shown with reference to Proklos that after the reception in the mind or sentiency of the theurgist, one and the same divinity is manifested in a fashion that matches the disposition of the och¯ema, in which the divinity brings about its respective epiphany.191 Hecate for her part is a goddess, whom S classifies as belonging to the category of the “liberated gods” and thus follows Damaskios’ classification.192 Their position as mediators allows these gods to be perceived and experienced according to the spiritual disposition of the receiving theurgist either as demons or as intelligible gods, either liberating and redeeming as well as blissful, in the sense of cosmic widening, on the one hand, or frightening and alarming, in the sense of a corporeal narrowing/contraction, on the other hand. But, as before, the development of visions of demons, experienced in a rather narrowing/contracting and alarming fashion, can (and should) lead to the liberating vision of the world soul.193 One can try, therefore, to align the different epiphanies of Hecate (even if the attempt is imperfect and for the greater part hypothetical) to a kind of order, which terminates in the experience of Hecate which corresponds to the experience of the νοητόν. This highest form of Hecate’s epiphanies can be defined relatively easily if we consider fragments 146 and 148 of the OC together:194 And even the mystical doctrine handed down by the gods imparts these things: ‚ [. . . ] after this invocation, (it says) you will either see 191 See S, Divination in the Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 4, 255f. “In fact, ‘those who

see the Gods witness them in the luminous garments of their souls [. . . ] [Quote from Proklos, In R.II, 39, 5–11] Each God is formless even if he is seen with a form. For the form is not in him but comes from him because of the incapacity of the viewer to see the formless without a form; rather, according to his nature he sees by means of forms. [. . . ] The invocation and visualization of the theurgist simply crystallized the God’s unseen presence in a form that corresponded to the disposition of his soul. The intensity, vividness, and power of the appearance depended entirely on the purity of the soul’s desire and its capacity to receive [S’s emphasis] the Gods”, cf. also S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 220f. On Hecate specifically see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 42 with a quote from L. Cf. above p. 153f. and 157f. 192 S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 137f. Cf. F, see n. 67, 117f. who talks about the “zentrale[n] Plazierung [der Hekate] im System der göttlichen und dämonischen Potenzen”. 193 S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 219: “When [my emphasis] the soul became resonant with the ratios of the World Soul, it began to live for the entire world, and since the daemons had jurisdiction over parts, not wholes, the soul then [my emphasis] received a god for its leader.” S’s interpretations are reminiscent of a chronical sequence that progresses from a restrictive experience of enclosing parts and their daemons to an experience of wholeness and its gods, that is, the wholeness of the cosmos – as in the “MachErfahrung”. 194 On the difficulties that arise with this interpretation of frg. 146 see J, Riders in the Sky: Cavalier Gods and Theurgic Salvation in the Second Century A. D, see n. ∗, 305–307.

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a fire, similar to a child, extended by bounds over the billow of air, or you will see a formless fire, from which a [sound] is sent forth, or you will see a sumptuous light, rushing like a spiral around the field. But you may even see a horse, more dazzling than light, or even a child mounted on the nimble back of a horse, (a child) of fire or covered with gold or, again, a naked (child) or even (a child) shooting a bow and standing on the back (of a horse). Καὶ ταῦτα καὶ ἡ θεοπαράδοτος μυσταγωγία παραδέδοκεν· [. . . ] ’ ταῦτ’ (γάρ φησιν) ἐπιφωνήσας ἢ παιδὶ κατόψῃ // πῦρ ἴκελον σκιρτηδὸν ἐπ’ ἠέρος οἶδμα τιταῖνον· // ἢ καὶ πῦρ ἀτύπωτον, ὅθεν φωνὴν προθέουσαν· // ἢ φῶς πλούσιον ἀμφὶ γύην ῥοιζαῖον ἐλιχθέν· // ἀλλὰ καὶ ἵππον ἰδεῖν φωτὸς πλέον ἀστράπτοντα // ἢ καὶ παῖδα θοοῖς νώτοις ἐποχούμενον ἵππου, // ἔμπυρον ἢ χρυσῷ πεπυκασμένον ἢ πάλι γυμνόν, // ἢ καὶ τοξεύοντα καὶ ἑστηῶτ’ ἐπὶ νώτοις.‘ (frg. 146) But when you see the formless, very holy fire shining by leaps and bounds throughout the depths of the whole world, (then) listen to the [sound] of the fire. ‘῾Ηνίκα βλέψης μορφῆς ἄτερ εὐΐερον πῦρ // λαμπόμενον σκιρτηδὸν ὅλου κατὰ βένθεα κόσμου // κλῦθι πυρὸς φωνήν.’ (frg. 148) The formless fire appears to be the highest form of the epiphanies.195 The formlessness stands here for the level of consciousness that exists over and beyond every “normal” categorical and discursive mode of thinking and is described by Damaskios as ὑπεράγνοια, “hyperignorance.”196 In my view, the level of consciousness negotiated in the verses of fragments 146 and 148, which address the “formless or 195 See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 221 with a quote from

Proklos, In R. II, 39, 28–40, 4 with a well-known rationale: “Each God is formless (amorphotos) even if he is seen with a form. For the form is not in him but comes from him due to the incapacity of the viewer to see the formless without form; rather, according to his nature he sees by means of forms”; cf. likewise F, see n. 67, 115f. and above p. 166, with note 99 concerning Seuse, who experienced something that “weder Form noch bestimmte Art [hatte] und doch aller Formen und Arten freudenreiche Lust in sich [hatte]”. 196 See A, The Chaldaean Oracles: Theology and Theurgy, see n. 29, 166f. A points out that according to Damaskios, the OC press their audience/the theurgist to forget all philosophical concepts and differentiations, with the aim of a “complete emptying of the mind”, of a “state of utter passivity, of annihilation of the self ” (ibid. 167). This interpretation accords well with a phenomenological interpretation of the mystical experience induced in theurgy, which characterises this experience as loss of self in an experience of privative widening that does not allow any more normal reflections. Plotinos also, in A’s view, reflects upon such a state in, inter alia, Enn. V3, 14, 1–19. It should be noted nonetheless that

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rich fire”, is precisely that which is shown in fragment 1 of the OC as νοητόν. At this level of consciousness the subject-object division collapses and a distinct perception is no longer (or only belatedly) possible, and, what happens to the theurgist, is accordingly experienced as widening and excorporation due to the absence of a limit. The paradoxical “sight of the formless” in fragment 148, v. 1 (ἡνίκα βλέψης μορφῆς ἄτερ) might point, therefore, to a real, extra-literary situation, for which S had found an appropriate analogue in the Tibetan practice of the fixed gaze into the wide, cloudless, entirely contourless and formless sky. In its formlessness, this kind of epiphany is free of any content or objects (apart from the impression of widening). It conveys, however, “knowledge.” The “formless fire” sends out a sound: ὅθεν φωνὴν προθέουσαν· (frg. 146, V. 4) and κλῦθι πυρὸς φωνήν.‘ (frg. 148, v. 3). It is the sound that, as already shown, begins whenever the theurgist “infuses” herself into the cosmic harmony, whenever she, Platonically speaking, reaches the goal of theurgy, the unification with Hecate / the world soul. It is the ῥοῖζος.197 This sign also suggests that this particular form of epiphany stands for the now well known phenomenon of cosmic widening and excorporation, this time in a slightly changed form of synaesthetic experience in which (at least in the description) delimiting attributes of light, sound and broadness are joined to one another. It suggests that the theurgist loses herself in the world and that this losing-herself is gratifyingly experienced as ([re-] union with) cosmic harmony (the fire is εὐΐερον [frg. 148, v. 1]). Closely related to the “formless fire” is also the φῶς πλούσιον: the φῶς πλούσιον is given no specific form neither and the sound which is joined to it is specified as the ῥοῖζος (frg. 146, v. 5: ῥοιζαῖον), that is as the same sound which is to be joined to the formless fire. The remaining epiphanies in fragment 146, which possess a predominantly figurative character, are clearly different from this.198 Their form and design suggests that the limit is overstepped between visionary and ecstatic experience on the one hand and mere visualisation of the divine according to a contemporary model, on the other hand.199 For here, as expressed in fragments 144 and 145, the formlessthe “formless fire”, that stands for this state of consciousness, is connected in the OC/theurgy ontologically with the world soul and the cosmos (see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 67). Plotinos on the other hand is aiming at the perception of the One. In both cases however, the state of the mantic-ecstatic rapture stands in comparison in the background; cf. also S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 232. 197 S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 174–176 offers some complementary observations to this topic. 198 It is to be assumed with Iamblichos, De Mysteriis II 4, 78, 13–16 (see above p. 153) that the epiphanies in these cases occur “multipartite and “multiform” because of the state of the soul. 199 On the differentiation between vision and visualisation see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 208: “This form of theurgy might initially have been a discursive exercise: mathematic visualizations, but at a certain point the visualizations would be

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ness of the divine nature in the “advancing light” of the gods takes on a form that is known to human beings and also familiar to them in its meaning.200 At the same time however, the gap between the perceiving theurgist and perceived object expands again, for now the Divine becomes a distinct “something” (a τι, cf. frg. 1, v. 5). The positive impression of goodwill and divine benevolence, however, survives in all these epiphanies described in fragment 146, as does the repulsion of demonic influences,201 so that in them is expressed a kind of amalgamation of shamanistic202 and contemporary elements.203 Importantly, the contemporary element appears here in the conceptualisation of light, through which all these epiphanies are qualified on the level of metaphysics fundamentally as “beautiful”.204 In contrast to this, the epiphanies of Hecate may likewise take on a threatening and alarming form, depending on the nature and suitability of the och¯ema or the consciousness of the theurgist, as Iamblichus warns:

200

201 202 203

204

spontaneously become visions empowered by the gods [. . . ] and the soul surrendered its false ‘unity’ to the unifying action of the One. Noetic theurgy, therefore, penetrated to the core of the soul’s inversion”. S describes here admittedly the effect of mathematic συνθήματα, but in my view these considerations can be applied to the effects produced through the strophalos, phurba and the OC itself, since they have the same aim in common. On the historical-cultural contextuality of the Hecate epiphanies in frg. 146 see J, Riders in the Sky: Cavalier Gods and Theurgic Salvation in the Second Century A. D, see n. ∗, in particular 320f. I differ here from J in one point only, who assumes that in frg. 146 the epiphanies of two different entities are described. In my view the fragment deals with different epiphanies of the one goddess Hecate as σώτειρα. The reason for the difference of manifestations here is to be found in the different levels of receptivity or purity of the och¯ema of the soul of the theurgist, that is, in the suitability (ἐπιτηδειότης) of the souls or sentiencies that fundamentally determines how the Divine is experienced and perceived; see S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 83–87. “For in this (light) ‚ [. . . ] the unformed are formed’ it says according to the oracle”. ᾿Εν τουτῷ (φῶτι) γὰρ [. . . ] τὰ ἀτύπωτα τυποῦσθαι‘ φησι κατὰ τὸ λόγιον. (frg. 144) “Therefore, ’ even the gods admonish us ‚ [. . . ] to perceive the shape of light which has been stretched forth.‘ For although it was without shape on high, it has become formed through procession“. Διὸ καὶ παρακελεύονται οἱ θεοὶ [. . . ] νοεῖν μορφὴν φωτὸς προταθεῖσαν·‘ ἄνω γὰρ ἀμόρφωτος ’ οὖσα διὰ τὴν πρόοδον ἐγένετο μεμορφωμένη (Frg. 145). See J, Riders in the Sky: Cavalier Gods and Theurgic Salvation in the Second Century A. D, see n. ∗, 318. See above p. 147-149 on this point J, Riders in the Sky: Cavalier Gods and Theurgic Salvation in the Second Century A. D, see n. ∗, 314: “My five examples suggest that in diverse parts of the Mediterranean in the first three centuries A.D., the figure of the cavalier took on new popularity as a way of representing heroes/gods who brought aid or salvation, often against a demonic or chthonic enemy. It is probable that the composers of the Chaldean Oracles were familiar with most or all of the manifestations of the motif we have examined“. The complete impression which these apparitions (should) evoke is that of the “arrival of divine aid” (ibid. 312). Cf. above p. 153-159.

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All those who are offensive and who awkwardly leap after the divine mysteries in a disordered way are not able to associate with the Gods due to the slackness of their energy or deficiency of their power. And on account of certain defilements they are excluded from the presence of pure spirits but are joined to evil spirits and are filled by them with the worst possession. They become wicked and unholy and, being glutted with undisciplined pleasures and filled with evil, they affect habits foreign to the gods. To sum up, they become assimilated to the disgusting/wicked demons with whom they meddle. ῞Οσοι δέ εἰσιν αὐτοί τε ἀλιτήριοι, καὶ ἀθέσμως καὶ ἀτάκτως ἐπιπηδῶσι τοῖς θείοις, δι’ ἀτονίαν τε τῆς ὑπαρχούσης αὐτοῖς δύναμεως ἔνδειαν οὐ δύνανται τῶν θεῶν τυγχάνειν, ἢ καὶ διά τινας μιασμοὺς ἀπείργονται τῆς πρὸς τὰ ἄχραντα πνεύματα συνουσίας, οὕτω τοῖς κακοῖς πνεύμασι συνάπτονται, πληρούμενοί τε ἀπ’ αὐτῶν τῆς κακίστης ἐπιπνοίας πονηροί τε καὶ ἀνόσιοι γίγνονται, ἡδονῶν μὲν ἀκολάστων πλήρεις, κακίας δὲ ἀνάμεστοι, τρόπων τε ἀλλοτρίων τοῖς θεοῖς ζηλωταί, καὶ τὸ ὅλον φάναι, παραπλήσιοι τοῖς πονηροῖς δαίμοσι γιγνόμενοι μεθ’ ὧν συμφύονται. (De Mysteriis III 31, 176, 13–177, 6)205 Correspondingly, Hecate can be experienced (and accordingly described) on this level of consciousness as an “enemy of the light” and mistress of a group of malicious, devilish demon dogs,206 who conveys a feeling of otherworldly threat and moral decay.207 Thus these epiphanies cause a feeling that distinguishes itself clearly from the visionary and blissful excorporation, which could be defined as the emotional and phenomenological core of the perception of the νοητόν. Moreover, they likewise distinguish themselves clearly from the stronger morphologically, nevertheless positively experienced epiphanies of Hecate, which are described in fragments 146 and 148. Consequently they are likewise light-metaphorically downgraded so to spek. Iamblichos concedes them only an intensity that allows the divine fire to “shine through in a cloudy form” (De Mysteriis II 4, 77, 13, see above p. 154)”. More dramatic is the finding, which can be deduced from the Chaldaean Oracles themselves: it is the sublunar demons who are connected 205 See S, Theurgy and the Soul. The Neoplatonism of Iamblichus, see n. 8, 86. 206 According to frg. 91 she is the “driver (fem.) of dogs of the air, earth and water” (ἠερίων

ἐλάτειρα κυνῶν χθονίων τε καὶ ὑγρῶν). M points out that Porphyrios considered these dogs to be wicked demons. 207 In the fragments 89 and 90 these demons are characterised as θηροπόπλον καὶ ἀναιδὲς and as χθόνιοι; see also the comment in M, see n. 67, on this fragments and F, see n. 67, 123 and 126.

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according to their nature with the negative emotions and passions. Because the sublunar world is simultaneously characterised as an underworld and as “light hating”, “dark gleaming”, “foul” etc.,208 it can be assumed that the sublunar demons likewise posses these characteristics, as the higher demons and angels distinguish themselves through those of the aether and the Intelligible. The epiphanies of the sublunar demons or Hecate, who appears in them, they can thus distinguish themselves by the absence of light. They are then in the context of contemporary Middle and Neoplatonic light metaphysics identified as ugly – at the same time, these attributes stand for the loss of unity and integration on this low, metaphysical and spiritual and aesthetic level. The aesthetics associated with the epiphanies of the divinities, which constitute the second aspect of a theurgic aesthetics, is therefore to be understood by the criterion of the already mentioned phenomenon of a corporeal experience of the Holy or Divine in privative widening and excorporation that finds its textual expression in the terminology of light metaphysics. To the delimitation and the positively experienced self-loss in the corporeal experience of the widening, the κενεὸν νόον of frg. 1 of the OC, corresponds the formlessness of fire, as Hecate is perceived on this mental level and experienced as εὐΐερον. If one spins this hermeneutical thread further, one might say that in the formlessness, out of which metaphysically seen all further cosmological formative powers arise,209 the remaining forms are integrated into an entireness, so that the aesthetic value of the epiphanies is to be searched for in the experience of wholeness and unity or totality. The status of this experience is precarious, however, and may again and again need the theurgic efforts for stabilisation or recovery. The fire of the gods does not thereby always lead the searcher to the beautiful – the search may also end in dread.

208 See M, see n. 67, 18. 209 See above p. 152f.

Contribution of Church Slavonic Translations to Understanding of Byzantine Anti-Iconoclast Polemics (The Case of the Letter of the Three Patriarchs to Theophilos) Dmitry Afinogenov One of the key questions raised in course of the Iconoclast crisis in Byzantium in the 8th and 9th centuries was that of the “circumscribability” of Christ. It seems that the discussion was initiated by the Emperor Constantine V in his “Peuseis”. Here is what he wrote, according to the Patriarch Nikephoros: N. Apol., 236C4–D1: ᾿Επειδὴ καὶ ἑτέραν ἄϋλον φύσιν συνηνωμένην τῇ σαρκὶ ἔχει, καὶ μετὰ τῶν δύο φύσεων ἐκείνων εἷς ὑπάρχει, καὶ τὸ πρόσωπον αὐτοῦ, ἤγουν ἡ ὑπόστασις αὐτοῦ, ἀχώριστον τῶν δύο φύσεών ἐστιν, οὐχ ὑπολαμβάνομεν ὅτι δυνατῶς ἔχει περιγράφεσθαι, ἐπειδὴ καὶ τὸ χαρακτηριζόμενον ἓν πρόσωπόν ἐστι, καὶ ὁ περιγράφων τὸ πρόσωπον ἐκεῖνο, δῆλον ὅτι καὶ θείαν φύσιν περιέγραψεν, ἥτις ἐστὶν ἀπερίγραπτος. 252C4–5:῞Οτι ἐπὶ τῆς σαρκὸς καὶ μόνης ἴδιον πρόσωπον περιγράφει ψιλοῦ ἀνθρώπου. 301C3–8:᾿Αλλ’ἢ τὸ θεῖον συμπεριγράφεσθαι ἔχει ἐν τῇ εἰκόνι ἐκείνῃ, καθώς ἐστιν ὁ Χριστὸς ἐκ διπλότητος, ἢ ψιλὸν μόνον ἄνθρωπον νοεῖσθαι τὸν Χριστὸν καὶ εἰκονίζειν αὐτὸν οὕτως, καθὸ ἡ εἰκὼν προσώπου ἐστὶν εἰκὼν καὶ τὸ θεῖόν ἐστιν ἀπερίγραφον.

Since He has also the other immaterial nature, which is united to the flesh, and He is one with those two natures, and His person, that is His hypostasis, is inseparable from the two natures, we do not think it possible to circumscribe Him, for the portrayed is one person, and he who circumscribes that person has evidently circumscribed the divine nature as well, which is uncircumscribable.

For through the sole flesh he circumscribes the individual person of a simple man. Either the divine has to be also circumscribed in that icon, as Christ is from double nature, or the Christ has to be conceived as just a simple man and depicted as such, since the image is image of a person, and the divine is uncircumscribable.

This was the challenge the Orthodox theologians had to meet, and large sections of Nikephoros’ Apologeticus atque Antirrhetici and Refutatio et Eversio as well as

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of Antirrhetici by Theodore Studite are devoted to the refutation of the emperor’s propositions, which were taken up by the Iconoclast synod of 815.1 The main argument of the iconophile polemists was that circumscribability constituted an integral characteristic of Christ’s human nature, and an icon while depicting His humanity, represented His person in such a way that circumscribability was not communicated to the divinity. The writings of the Patriarch Nikephoros were one of the main sources of an iconophile text known as “The Letter of the Three Patriarchs to Emperor Theophilos”, which in the original Greek survives only as several seemingly loosely related works, primarily the so called “Synodical Letter” (henceforth ES) and “The Letter of John of Damascus to Emperor Theophilos” (PD). Both contain a similar passage concerning the appearance of Christ as Man, where the question of perigraphe is addressed. Here is what we have in PD (147, 24–149, 4):2 ὁ μονογενὴς Υἱὸς καὶ λόγος τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ θεὸς ἡμῶν [. . . ] ἄνθρωπος ἐκ τῆς ἁγίας παρθένου καὶ θεοτόκου Μαρίας ἀτρέπτως καὶ ἀναλλοιώτως χρηματίσας, κεκοινώνηκε σαρκὸς καὶ αἵματος καθὸ ἄνθρωπος γέγονε, ζῷον λογικόν, θνητόν, νοῦ καὶ ἐπιστήμης δεκτικόν, τρίπηχυ, ἴσως περιγραφῆς καὶ σαρκὸς παχύτητι περιγραφόμενος τῇ καθ’ἡμᾶς ὁρωμένῃ μορφῇ.

the only-begotten Son and Word of God and our God [. . . ] who Himself became man, born out of Mary, the holy Virgin and Mother of God, He shared in our flesh and blood without change or mutation, in so far as He became a man, a rational animal, mortal, receptive of thought and knowledge, three cubits tall, identical to us, circumscribed within a body and the thickness of flesh in a form seen by us.

The reading ἴσως (Munitiz actually writes ἶσος) is problematic, as reflected also in the translation. There is hardly any possibility to correctly interpret the phrase from the grammatical point of view, whether we accept the reading as adjective or adverb. Perhaps it would be reasonable to mark the words ἴσως περιγραφῆς with a crux. ES goes back to the same source as PD, as is particularly apparent from the section where they overlap. It is just this section that contains the passage parallel to the one cited above. This is what it looks like (29, 2–12): ὁ μονογενὴς καὶ λόγος τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ θεὸς ἡμῶν [. . . ] ἄνθρωπος ἐκ τῆς ἁγίας παρθένου καὶ θεοτόκου Μαρίας γεγενημένος ἀτρέπτως 1 2

N. Refutatio et eversio 7, 31–34; 12, 15–16. See J. A. M et al. The Letter of the Three Patriarchs to Emperor Theophilos and Related Texts. Camberley, 1997. The translation is taken from this edition.

Church Slavonic Translations

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καὶ ἀναλλοιώτως κεκοινώνηκεν ἡμῖν σαρκὸς καὶ αἵματος καθὸ ἄνθρωπος γέγονε, ζῷον λογικόν, θνητόν, νοῦ καὶ ἐπιστήμης δεκτικόν, τρίπηχυς, ἔσω σώματος (ἐν σώματι W) καὶ σαρκὸς παχύτητι περιγραφόμενος τῇ καθ’ἡμᾶς ὁρωμένῃ μορφῇ. The text is almost identical with the exception of the questionable expression, in the place of which ES has perfectly clear and correct ἔσω σώματος. By the way, it seems that this reading has influenced Munitiz’s translation of PD, which contains the word “body”, absent from the Greek original. Now we have two options: either to assume that the author (if this term is applicable to a rather modest re-modeler) of PD replaced the original σώματος with περιγραφῆς, perhaps under the influence of the following περιγραφόμενος, or to follow the rule of lectio difficilior and interpret the reading of ES as an emendation of the passage that seemed insufficiently clear to the compiler of that version. The situation of lectio difficilior is created of course not by the word περιγραφῆς per se, but by its combination with ἴσως (ἶσος). It does not seem probable that the original text contained a tautological phrase like ἔσω περιγραφῆς καὶ σαρκὸς παχύτητι περιγραφόμενος, which also would have looked doubtful theologically. Christ, though circumscribable as man, cannot be described as “contained within circumscription”. Thus the choice should be between two blocks: either ἴσως περιγραφῆς, or ἔσω σώματος. What makes me prefer the first solution is actually a certain similarity between ἴσως and ἔσω. It suggests a physical corruption of the source manuscript text, which the later editors-compilers tried to cure with various degree of ingenuity. If the compiler of ES read or conjectured ἔσω in the corrupted spot, it is easy to understand his logic in replacing περιγραφῆς with σώματος. In this way he avoided the aforementioned dogmatic ambiguity. Thus according to the most probable supposition the locus in question required conjectural emendation even at a very early time (no later than the 10th century). Should then modern editors also attempt it, or just leave the text as it is, translating ad sensum, as both M and G do?3 Fortunately, we possess one more testimony, which not only is the closest to the original Letter of the Oriental Patriarchs from 836, but also furnishes the definitive proof of its existence. I mean the Church Slavonic translation known as “Mnogosložnyj Svitok” (corresponding to the Greek πολύστιχος τόμος), made probably as early as the 9th century in 3

H. G. Texte zum byzantinischen Bilderstreit. Der Synodalbrief der drei Patriarchen des Ostens von 836 und seine Verwandlung in sieben Jahrhunderten. Frankfurt am Main, 1994, 80, 13–14: “in gleicher Weise vom Erscheinungsbild und der Leibesfülle her [. . . ] beschrieben.”

Dmitry Afinogenov

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the First Bulgarian Kingdom.4 The Slavonic text in this place goes as follows (ch. 17–18 in my forthcoming edition): единородный сынъ слово божие и богъ нашъ [. . . ] бысть непреложенъ и неизмxненъ человxкъ, [18] причастися нашеи плоти и крови, животно словесно и мертвено, оума и художества приятенъ, возрастъ трилактенъ, божествомъ непостижимъ, внx омxрения дебельствомь плоти мxримь по видxнию нашего образа.

the only-begotten Son Word of God and our God [. . . ] became man without change or mutation, [18] shared in our flesh and blood, a rational animal, mortal, receptive of thought and knowledge, three cubits tall, incomprehensible in divinity, circumscribed beyond circumscription by the density of flesh in a visible image resembling our own.

It is necessary to present at least a tentative reconstruction of the underlying Greek, taking into account the surviving Greek versions as close as possible: ὁ μονογενὴς Υἱὸς λόγος τοῦ θεοῦ καὶ θεὸς ἡμῶν [. . . ] γέγονε ἀτρέπτως καὶ ἀναλλοιώτως ἄνθρωπος, κεκοινώνηκε σαρκὸς καὶ αἵματος ἡμῶν, ζῷον λογικὸν καὶ θνητόν, νοῦ καὶ ἐπιστήμης δεκτικόν, τὴν ἡλικίαν τρίπηχυς, τῇ θεότητι ἀκατάληπτος, ἔξω περιγραφῆς σαρκὸς παχύτητι περιγραφόμενος τῇ καθ’ἡμᾶς ὁρωμένῃ μορφῇ. The theological message here is just as obvious as in ES, albeit fairly different: there is a clear-cut opposition of uncircumscribable divinity of Christ and His circumscribable humanity. Within the Slavonic text and, in all probability, its Greek original it makes perfect sense due to the preceding clause “incomprehensible in divinity”, that works as counterbalance to the characteristics of Christ’s human nature. Moreover, the word возрастъ (accusative), attached to the attribute трилактенъ (=τρίπηχυς), probably as accusativus relationis, creates a contrasting pair τὴν ἡλικίαν τρίπηχυς, τῇ θεότητι ἀκατάληπτος, so typical of the Orthodox theological discourse concerning the two natures of Christ (in particular, a long array of such pairs follows in the next chapter 19 of our text). Out of the four words which originally constituted this opposition, only τρίπηχυ(ς) has survived in the Greek versions. So it seems that the actual Letter of 836 had two clauses juxtaposing (in chiastic order) characteristics of Christ’s divinity and humanity. The expression ἔξω περιγραφῆς finds its perfect place there. It might be 4

See D. A. The new edition of “The Letter of the Three Patriarchs”: problems and achievements. Symmeikta 16 (2003–2004), 9–33.

supposed that the translator had access to a manuscript where the spot containing the word ἔξω was intact. Now to the terminology of the Slavonic translation. As can be observed from the quoted passage, the Greek root (περι)γράφ- is rendered here with the Slavonic мxр-, which usually means “measure” (=Greek μετρ-). Were it not for the Greek versions, the reconstruction would have been ἔξω μετρήσεως (περιμέτρου vel simile quid) [. . . ] μετρούμενος. That would not have been entirely out of place, since “three cubits tall” designates precisely measure. However, methodically sounder would be to assume a reverse influence of τρίπηχυς on the rendering of the derivatives of the root (περι)γράφ- in this particular context. It should be noted, however, that just a little bit further ἀπερίγραπτος καὶ [. . . ] περιγραφόμενος is translated in a customary way as описанъ и неописанъ (the order is reversed). The result of this small investigation is rather encouraging: although Slavonic translators sometimes feel themselves free to choose different equivalents for the Greek theological and philosophical vocabulary, the comparison with the Greek originals (or their corrupted remnants) shows that they were perfectly capable of correctly rendering the general theological discourse in such a manner that on many occasions the translations actually help to reconstruct the lost Byzantine prototypes.

Sources and Abbreviations N. Apol.: Nicephori archiepiscopi Constantinopolitani Antirrhetici tres. Apologeticus pro sacris imaginibus. J. P. Migne. Patrologiae cursus completus. Series graeca. Vol. 100. Paris, 1865, 205A–832A N. Refutatio et eversio: J. M. F. Nicephori Patriarchae Constantinopolitani refutatio et eversio definitionis synodalis anni 815. Corpus christianorum, Series graeca 33. Turnhout, 1997 ES: Synodical Letter PD: The Letter of John of Damascus to Emperor Theophilos

Historical Memory of Byzantine Iconoclasm in the 14th c.: the Case of Nikephoros Gregoras and Philotheos Kokkinos Lev Lukhovitskij The Synodikon of Orthodoxy of AD 843 solemnly proclaimed the final defeat and condemnation of the iconoclastic heresy. It stated explicitly that it was not possible anymore to revitalize it as God “bestowed upon us unworthy liberation from calamities, redemption from sorrows, new proclamation of piety, and safety of icon veneration” (κατηρτίσατο τοῖς ἀναξίοις ἡμῖν τὴν τῶν δυσχερῶν ἀπαλλαγὴν καὶ τῶν λυπούντων τὴν ἀπολύτρωσιν καὶ τῆς εὐσεβείας τὴν ἀνακύρηξιν καὶ τῆς εἰκονικῆς προσκυνήσεως τὴν ἀσφάλειαν), whereas those who attempted to smear the holy images proved to be “cowards and fled away” (δειλοὺς καὶ πεφευγότας).1 Nevertheless, the history of the iconoclastic controversy in Byzantium did not come to an end with the restoration of Orthodoxy. Although iconoclasm did not exist anymore as a coherent theological and philosophical doctrine, an accusation of iconoclasm became a powerful polemical weapon in the hands of those who sought to compromise their political and ideological opponents. As we know, “la religion officielle tend toujours à assimiler une hérésie nouvelle à une ancienne”.2 As soon as the partisans of icon veneration (Ioannes Damaskenos, Nikephoros of Constantinople, Theodoros Stoudites etc.) and their spiritual heirs (Photios of Constantinople) established an inextricable theological link between iconoclasm and earlier Christological heresies, a charge of iconoclasm became equal to an accusation of all these previous blasphemies taken together (Arianism, Nestorianism, Docetism, etc.). Throughout the ages from the 2nd half of the 9th c.3 until the fall of Byzantium4 the iconoclastic issue acquired relevance or, on the contrary, remained only in the background of the doctrinal controversies of the time. The sources inform us 1 2 3

4

J. G. Le Synodikon de l’Orthodoxie: Édition et commentaire. Travaux et mémoires 2 (1967), 1–316, 47, l. 41–43; 49, l. 51. P. L. L’histoire des Pauliciens d’Asie Mineure d’après les sources grecques. Travaux et mémoires 5 (1973), 1–144, 124. The Photian period (858–886) must be treated with great caution as it was too closely linked to the iconoclastic period itself. It was rather a final stage of the controversy than its revival: C. M. The Liquidation of Iconoclasm and the Patriarch Photios. In: Iconoclasm (Papers given at the 9th Spring Symposium of Byzantine Studies, University of Birmingham, March 1975). Ed. by A. B and J. H. Birmingham, 1977, 133–140; H. G. T. Bilderlehre und Bilderstreit: Arbeiten zur Auseinandersetzung über die Ikone und ihre Begründung vornehmlich im 8. und 9. Jahrhundert. Würzburg, 1991, 115–126. E.g., Patriarch Gennadios Scholarios (1403/05–1472/73) on the eve of the Turkish conquest makes intensive usage of passages borrowed from Nikephoros’ of Constantinople (758–828)

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that it was of great urgency during the reign of Alexios I Komnenos (1081–1118): byzantine historians (e.g. Anna Komnene) testify that Ioannes Italos was guilty of iconoclasm, although this charge was not included into the relevant section of the Synodikon of Orthodoxy;5 several years later the issue was renewed by Leo of Chalcedon.6 Still, beyond any doubt the period of the most intensive usage of the charge in question was the epoch of the Hesychast controversy. The polemicists of the period re-discovered iconophile theological texts that had been of minor interest throughout the previous centuries and scrutinized them with vivid interest in pursuit of passages appropriate to condemn their opponents as iconoclasts. Despite their diligence and philological thoroughness, their awareness of actual history and subject of the iconoclastic controversy was far from complete. Consequently, the picture of the iconoclastic crisis they drew was full of distortions and misinterpretations. It is crucial, therefore, to determine the sources they employed to reconstruct the ideology of iconoclasts and their opponents. I believe that answering this seemingly purely philological question will help to approach a much more complicated issue of Byzantines’ perception of past and to distinguish some underlying heresiological principles that determined the character and originality of Byzantine theological literature on the whole. Fortunately, these sources (perhaps it is more correct to treat them as one integrate source) are preserved and well-known to byzantinists. These are two theological treatises composed ca. 815–820 by Nikephoros, Patriarch of Constantinople (806–815) and confessor of the second iconoclasm.7 The first bears a conventional title Apologeticus atque Antirrhetici, comprises 4 sections (Apologeticus maior and

5

6

7

treatise Apologeticus atque Antirrhetici in the 1st Treatise on the Procession of the Holy Spirit (ca. 1445), Against Bessarion (ca. 1443), and On the words of Theodoros Graptos (1445): S. II, 145, l. 14–16 = N. Apol. 581A; II, 238, l. 11–18; III, 102, l. 21–29 = N. Apol. 580D–581A; S. III, 210, l. 35–211, l. 17 = N. Apol. 304C–305A. Also he provides evidence that Markos Eugenikos has been likewise engaged in a debate over a controversial passage from Pseudo-Theodoros Graptos (i.e. Nikephoros of Constantinople – see below) (S. III, 212, l. 7–12). For a theological evaluation of Italos’ argumentation see T. S. Iconoclastic Fragment of the Apologetic Note by John Italos. Scrinium, Revue de patrologie, d’hagiographie critique et d’histoire ecclésiastique 4 (2008), 249–259. A. A. G. ῾Η ἐπὶ ᾿Αλεξίου Κομνηνοῦ (1081–1118) περὶ ἱερῶν σκευῶν, κειμηλίων καὶ ἁγίων εἰκόνων ἔρις (1081–1095). Thessalonike, 1972; V. L. Une dispute sans justes: Léon de Chalcédoine, Eustrate de Nicée et la troisième querelle sur les images sacrées. Studia Patristica 42 (2006), 321–339. For his biography see P. J. A. The Patriarch Nicephorus of Constantinople. Ecclesiastical Policy and Image Worship in the Byzantine Empire. Oxford, 1958, 54–155; T. P. Nikephoros I. (806–815). In: Ralph-Johannes Lilie, editor: Die Patriarchen der ikonoklastischen Zeit: Germanos I. – Methodios I. (715–847). Berliner byzantinische Studien 5. Frankfurt am Main, Berlin, and Bern, 1999, 109–147; PMBZ, N5301.

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three Antirrhetici), and aims to resist the second iconoclasm introduced in 815 by emperor Leo V the Armenian (813–820), by means of refutation of the doctrine of the first iconoclasm, i. e. the teaching of Constantine V (741–775). Despite unambiguous manuscript evidence, it was published as 4 separate treatises (and to make the things worse, in reverse order – Antirrhetici followed by Apologeticus maior) by cardinal Angelo Mai in 1849 and as such reprinted by J.-P. Migne in 1865; arguments for integrity of the treatise are listed by A.8 The second, known as Contra Eusebium, is a supplement to the first and deals with one of the patristic testimonies employed by iconoclasts (e.g. at the iconoclastic Council of Hiereia in 754: M. XIII, 313AD), namely, the famous iconoclastic letter to Constantia Augusta, Constantine’s the Great sister, ascribed to Eusebius of Caesarea.9 The authenticity of this letter has been subject of scholarly debate,10 yet at the present moment this problem is of minor importance for us, suffice it to say that neither Nikephoros himself,11 nor the fathers of the 7th Oecumenical Council in 787 expressed any doubts about its genuineness. A quite understandable tactics, given the fact that the probative value of the passages in question was being rejected by referring to Eusebius’ of Caesarea alleged connection to Arius.12 This method of refutation would not have worked properly, if one could still doubt that Eusebius quoted by iconoclasts and the author of the Ecclesiastical history had actually been one and the same person. Recently C presented strong evidence that Contra Eusebium should be treated not as a separate treatise, but as a final section of Apologeticus atque Antirrhetici.13 This fact is embarrassing by itself as we know that Nikephoros’ writings were not easily accessible already from the second half of the 9th c. More precisely, after the death of Patriarch Methodios (June 14, 847), when his archive containing a 8 9 10

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A, see n. 7, 167–173. A, see n. 7, 173–178. S. G. The True Image of Christ: Eusebius’ Letter to Constantia Reconsidered. The Journal of Theological Studies 32.1 (1981), 460–470; A. I. S. Послание Евсевия Кесарийского к Констанции (К вопросу об идейных истоках иконоборчества). Vizantijskij Vremennik 1951 (1990), 58–73; A. von S. Einige Anmerkungen zur Epistula ad Constantiam des Euseb von Cäsarea. In: Die ikonoklastische Synode von Hiereia 754. Ed. by T. K, C. S, and C. S. Studien und Texte zu Antike und Christentum 15. Tübingen, 2002, 92–96. With the exception of one passage: “Now it is worth investigating, whether this Eusebius, who says such things, is actually Eusebius, the author of the Ecclesiastical history” (Ζητεῖν ἄξιον ἐνταῦθα, εἰ ἐκεῖνος οὗτός ἐστιν Εὐσέβιος, ὁ ταῦτά τε λέγων, καὶ ὁ τὴν καλουμένην ᾿Εκκλησιαστικὴν ἱστορίαν συνθείς – N. Euseb. 460, l. 15–17). M XIII, 316A. A. C. La reconstitution d’un vaste traité iconophile écrit par Nicéphore de Constantinople. Semitica et classica 2 (2009), 203–215.

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two-volume edition of Nikephoros’ theological writings was hidden in the Stoudios monastery.14 Nevertheless, all polemicists of the 14th c. remained completely ignorant of the real author of these treatises since they had been ascribed to another confessor of the second iconoclasm – namely, saint Theodoros Graptos (literally “Branded” as the iconoclastic emperor Theophilos in 836 ordered to inscribe on his face iconoclastic verses; for Theodoros’ biography: PMBZ, N7526). Unfortunately, Theodoros’ genuine polemical writings mentioned in his Enkomion by Theophanes of Caesarea (BHG, N1745z) and the Life of Michael the Synkellos (BHG, N1296), are not extant anymore. The identification of the passages ascribed by 14th c. theologians to Theodoros Graptos as actually belonging to Nikephoros of Constantinople was established by Jean Boivin in 1702.15 He also examined two codices containing Nikephoros’ writings under Theodoros’ Graptos name: Parisinus graecus 910 and Parisinus graecus 909.16 The first may be dated to the 9th c.;17 or to the late 9th – early 10th c.18 The second is an apograph of the first and goes back (as clearly stated by its colophon on fol. 341) to March 1368.19 One more Nikephoros’ codex bearing Theodoros’ name is Scorialensis. Ψ.I.15, a 16th c. copy of Parisinus graecus 909.20 This identification having been established,21 the following generations of scholars, however, did not come to agreement as for the chronology of this misinterpretation. B and P concluded that the part of the title of Parisinus graecus 910 containing Theodoros’ name had been written “manu recentiore”,22 whereas 14

15 16

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18 19

20 21 22

D. A. Did the Patriarchal Archive End up in the Monastery of Stoudios? Ninth Century Vicissitudes of Some Important Document Collections. In: Monastères, images, pouvoirs et société à Byzance. Ed. by M. K. Byzantina Sorbonensia 23. Paris, 2006, 125–133. G, Historia. II, 1297–1300. These manuscripts were also known to B (as Codices Regii 1989 and 1826), who at the time was preparing a full edition of Nikephoros’ writings that, unfortunately, has not ever seen the light (A. B. Conspectus operum sancti Nicephori Patriarchae Constantinopolitani, quae propediem duobus tomis edenda sunt [. . . ] Paris, 1705). B. M. L’ancien empereur Jean VI Cantacuzène et ses copistes. In: Gregorio Palamas e oltre. Studi e documenti sulle controversie teologiche del XIV secolo bizantino. Ed. by A. R. Orientalia Venetiana 16. Firenze, 2004, 249–296, 266; C, see n. 13, 204. B. L. F. Греческие рукописи европейских собраний: Палеографические и кодикологические исследования 1988–1998 гг. Moskva, 1999, 75. M, see n. 17, 265. Against R. B. Note sur l’activité littéraire de Nicéphore Ier Patriarche de Constantinople. Byzantion 14.1 (1939), 1–15 and J. M. F. An iconoclastic episode in the Hesychast Controversy. Jahrbuch der Österreichischen Byzantinistik 33 (1983), 179–198, who supposed Parisinus graecus 909 to be a 16th copy of a 14th c. archetype. C, see n. 13, 209. Cf. an extravagant assertion of C that Nikephoros’ treatises in fact contain argumentation going back to Theodoros Graptos (P. IV, 327, note 3). G, Historia. II, 1298; N. Euseb. LXVIII–LXIX.

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B and A assumed that the attribution of Nikephoros’ writings to Theodoros Graptos went as far as 10th c., thus, being roughly contemporary with the production of Parisinus graecus 910 itself.23 F, on the other hand, who was the first to pay attention to the perception of Nikephoros’ literary legacy during the Hesychast controversy concluded that the misleading inscription had been added in the 14th c. He also drew (on paleographical grounds) an attractive picture of adventures of Parisinus graecus 910. According to his theory, the manuscript was discovered by Nikephoros Gregoras around 1320 in the Chora monastery in Constantinople with title erased. The gap was filled by Gregoras with Theodoros’ Graptos name that was familiar to him as he was composing at the time his own version of the Life of Michael the Synkellos (BHG, N1297), and Theodoros Graptos had been playing an important role in its earlier version (BHG, N1296).24 After 1350 the codex was stolen from Gregoras and fell into the hands of his enemy Patriarch Philotheos Kokkinos, then returned to the anti-Palamite party and was used by Gregoras’ disciple Ioannes Kyparissiotes, only to fall at last into Ioannes Kantakouzenos’ hands. F claimed also to distinguish Gregoras’, Kokkinos’, Kyparissiotes’, and possibly Kantakouzenos’ hands in the marginalia of Parisinus graecus 910.25 The weakness of this hypothesis was demonstrated by F and  D who pointed out that there existed no paleographic evidence to see Gregoras’ hand in the title of Parisinus graecus 910,26 whereas some marginal notes erroneously identified as belonging to Kokkinos went back to the 12th c.27 At the present moment, I can hardly claim to have solved this problem. I assume it sufficient to say that all 14th c. authors I deal with, without any exception, believed that they quoted Theodoros Graptos, and the majority of them had no idea of who Nikephoros of Constantinople had been. The bitter irony of fate made Gregoras (unaware of the fact that he was thereby involuntarily helping to 23 24

25 26 27

B, see n. 19, 8; A, see n. 7, 156. Note that later this Life was by no means the unique source of information on Theodoros Graptos for Gregoras. In the Historia Rhomaike Gregoras also quoted the liturgical canon in Theodoros’ honor composed by his brother Theophanes (G, Historia. III, 387, l. 4–388, l. 11), as well as the Metaphrastic version of Theodoros’ Life (BHG, N1746). Textual parallels between his account (G, Historia. III, 385, l. 1–387, l. 4) and this Life are listed by T (G, Geschichte. VI, 95–96). On Gregoras’ hagiographical writings see M. H. Les Vies des Saints du XIVe siècle en tant que biographie historique: l’œuvre de Nicéphore Grégoras. In: Les Vies des Saints à Byzance. Genre littéraire ou biographie historique? (Actes du IIe colloque international philologique «ΕΡΜΗΝΕΙΑ», Paris, 6–8 juin 2002). Ed. by P. O and P. A. A. Dossiers Byzantins 4. Paris, 2004, 281–301. F, see n. 19. G, Geschichte. IV, 276–277; F, see n. 18, 75–76. F, see n. 18, 88, 92.

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obliterate the memory of a true confessor and champion of orthodoxy) to praise God for protection of Theodoros’ Graptos writings: Μάρτυρας δ’ εἶναί φησι τῆς αὐτοῦ σοφίας καὶ τῆς πρὸς τυράννους ἐνστάσεως ἃς ὑπὲρ εὐσεβείας ἐκεῖνος ἐξέθετο βίβλους, διασωζομένας ἀεὶ προνοίᾳ Θεοῦ, πολύτιμον οἷς εὐσεβεῖν ἐστι θέλησις θησαυρόν.28 He [Symeon Metaphrastes – L.L.] says that for his [Theodoros’ – L.L.] wisdom and resistance to the tyrants testify his books composed for the sake of piety that are eternally preserved by God’s providence as a precious treasure for those who desire to be pious. My research is based on a completely different methodology in comparison with that of F: he made a convincing attempt to scrutinize one single manuscript in order to identify the authors of its marginal notes, I, on the contrary, undertook to compare direct quotations from Nikephoros in published 14th c. theological texts. It seems obvious that if a later author makes use of some Nikephoros’ passages unknown to his predecessors, it means that he has got access to a full Nikephoros’ manuscript and does not borrow his quotations from the earlier author he refutes or supports. Whether his and his opponent’s manuscripts are one and the same codex or not, seems to be of minor importance at the present stage of the research. In order to investigate the mutual relationship of the relevant 14th c. texts from the standpoint of usage of Nikephoros’ (Pseudo-Theodoros’ Graptos) passages I made a comparison table.29 The conclusions one can draw from it may be summarized as follows: 1. Among the nine authors who made use of Nikephoros’ passages were Palamites and anti-Palamites as well. Palamites: • Joseph Kalothetes (PLP, N10615; died after 1355/56) in the Oration against Nikephoros Gregoras (ca. 1355/56).30 • Gregorios Palamas (PLP, N21546; according to R,31 died November 14, 1357) in the 3rd Oration against Nikephoros Gregoras (1356/57)32 .33 28 29 30 31 32 33

G, Historia III, 385, l. 15–18. See Appendix. K 303–341. A. R. La canonizzazione di Gregorio Palama (1368) ed alcune altre questioni. Rivista di studi bizantini e neoellenici 30 (1993), 155–202, 159. The date accepted in the edition of C (“autumn 1358” – P. IV, 181) is impossible since Palamas by that time had already passed away. P IV, 321–340.

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• Philotheos Kokkinos (PLP, N11917; Patriarch of Constantinople in 1353– 1354 and 1364–1376; died ca. 1378) in the 11th Oration against Nikephoros Gregoras.34 The date of this refutation of some unnamed Gregoras’ writings (2nd Antirrheticus?) composed in response to the Tomos of the Council of 1351 is uncertain. The internal evidence is contradictory: on the one hand, Philotheos mentions Ioannes VI Kantakouzenos as “our present mighty and saintly emperor” (ὁ νῦν κραταιός καὶ ἅγιος ἡμῶν αὐτοκράτωρ).35 This suggests a date prior to Kantakouzenos’ abdication in December 1354. Nevertheless, P demonstrated that this indication might be misleading: “In realità bisogna considerare che anche da monaco il Canatacuzeno continuò a godere il prestigio dell’ex-regnante, e spesso anche il titolo; questo titolo da solo, perciò, non può essere un indizio probante per la datazione”, and proposed 1358 as a plausible date.36 The issue of Kantakouzenos’ influence after his abdication is discussed by M.37 On the other hand, Philotheos speaks of Nikephoros Gregoras as of already deceased: “We have not got hold of his writings before, when he was alive [. . . ] Now, when we have got acquainted with them [. . . ]” (Πρώην μὲν οὖν οὔπω τοῖς γράμμασιν ἐντετυχηκότες αὐτοῦ περιόντος ἔτι τῷ βίῳ [. . . ] Νῦν δὲ καὶ τοῖς συγγράμμασι τούτοις ἐντετυχηκότες ἐκείνου [. . . ])38 .39 Since Gregoras died in 136140 or, according to a more careful dating of T, “nicht vor Herbst 1358”41 ,42 the traditional dating of the 11th Oration to 1353–135443 is at least attackable. R accepts even a later date: Kokkinos’ second patriarchate or at least a period after the death of Patriarch Kallistos I (September 1363, according to PLP, N10478) who is also mentioned by

34 35 36

37 38 39 40 41 42 43

K 407–478. K 412, l. 148; 451, l. 1435. M. P. Appunti per lo studio degli inediti Antirrhetici posteriores di Niceforo Gregoras. Atti della Academia nazionale dei Lincei. Rendiconti Lincei. Scienze morali, storiche e filologiche 28 (1973), 921–951, 930–933, 938. J. M. Projets de Concile Oecuménique en 1367: Un dialogue inédit entre Jean Cantacuzène et le légat Paul. Dumbarton Oaks Papers 14 (1960), 147–177, 149–152. K 418, l. 378–419, l. 388. Cf. “And if he were present and among the living [. . . ]” (Καὶ εἴγε παρὼν ἦν ἔτι κἀν τοῖς ζῶσι διατελῶν [. . . ] – K. 413, l. 178). PLP, N4443; G, Geschichte I, 34. G, Geschichte VI, 3. For more arguments see H.-V. B. Eine Chronologie der Lebensgeschichte des Nikephoros Gregoras. Jahrbuch der Österreichischen Byzantinistik 27 (1978), 127–155, 153–155. G. M. Notizie di Procoro e Demetrio Cidone, Manuele Caleca e Teodoro Meliteniota ed altri appunti per la storia della teologia e della letteratura bizantina del secolo XIV. Studi e testi 56. Vaticano, 1931, 244.

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Kokkinos as already deceased.44 • Ioannes (Joasaph) VI Kantakouzenos (PLP, N10973; emperor in 1341–1354, died 1383) in the 1st Refutation of Prochoros Kydones (before April 1368 – K. XV–XVII).45 Anti-Palamites: • Nikephoros Gregoras (PLP, N4443) in the 1st Antirrhetici,46 the Historia Rhomaike (chapters 19–20, 23–24 were composed in June-August 1352,47 and chapters 30 and 32–34 in spring/summer 1355 and summer/autumn 1356 respectively),48 and the 2nd Antirrhetici.49 Nikephoros’ passages borrowed by Gregoras in the 2nd Antirrheticus are not included in the table as they are available only in an unpublished PhD thesis of M. Paparozzi (1971) that, unfortunately, remained inaccessible to me. It seems highly doubtful yet that there are any new quotations to be found, given that the most relevant sections of the 2nd Antirrheticus (VI B, C, D) dealing with the Palamite teaching of the Tabor Light coincide “praticamente alla lettera” with the chapters 32–34 of the Historia Rhomaike.50 • Isaak Argyros (PLP, N1285; died ca. 1375) in the Letter to the monk Gedeon on the Tabor Light (according to P, this Letter is prior to two surviving letters of Theodoros Dexios).51 • Theodoros Dexios (PLP, N5194) in the Appellation against Ioannes Kantakouzenos (after the Council of 1351, “probably in the last months of the same year, or sometime in 1352” – D. XXXI),52 and the 1st Epistle (early 1360s – D. XLII).53 44 45 46 47 48 49

50 51 52 53

A. R. L’epistola a Menas di Gregorio Palamas e gli effetti dell’orazione. Cristianesimo nella storia 9 (1988), 57–80, 61. K. 1–105. According to B, he started to work on them in 1346/47 on the request of Anna of Savoy – G, Ant. 111. G, Geschichte IV, 1–5. G, Geschichte VI, 41, 86. According to P, see n. 36, 936, 1358. The precise date of the composition of the 2nd Antirrheticus is still debatable. P argued that the meeting at the Mangana monastery, described in the section VI B (= Chapter 32 of Historia Rhomaike), took place in 1357. This view was corrected by B who demonstrated that this meeting was held in summer-autumn 1356 (B, Eine Chronologie der Lebensgeschichte des Nikephoros Gregoras, see n. 42, 149). P, see n. 36, 935. D XXVI–XXIX. D 1–185. D 187–223.

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• Ioannes Kyparissiotes (PLP, N13900; died ca. 1378) in the Decades (after 1368, the Greek text remains unedited, references are given to the 16th c. Latin translation by Fr. Torres).54 • Manuel Kalekas (PLP, N10289; died ca. 1410) in the treatise On the essence and operation (composed in Pera in 1396–1399 – K. Corr. 30).55 2. It is crucial to determine which of the two parties was the first to bring a charge of iconoclasm upon their opponents and which could only return this accusation. It should be observed that, at the present stage of the research, I’m dealing only with a charge of iconoclasm sensu stricto, i.e. iconoclasm taken as an independent doctrine with its theology and history and not as an element of another heresy, e. g., Messalianism or Bogomilism. Iconoclastic practices (desecration, burning or destruction of icons) nearly always constituted an essential part of accusation of these heresies.56 Such charges were wide-spread during the Hesychast controversy as well. The Palamites were accused of Messalianism already in the early 1340s. The Athonite Tomos containing such accusations goes back either to 1341/42,57 or to 1344,58 or to March/April 1345.59 This case was adopted by all prominent anti-Palamites, among them Gregorios Akindynos60 and Gregoras.61 It is noteworthy though that the latter rarely combines two polemical strategies: if he quotes Nikephoros, he never mentions Messalians and their abominable rituals, 54

55

56 57 58 59

60 61

According to F, see n. 19, 195, there are more Nikephoros’ passages in the inedited part of Kyparissiotes’ treatise On the transgressions of Palamites. Cf. V. L. D. Ιωάννες Κυπαρισσιώτης, ο σοφός και φιλόσοφος. Athens, 1965. This list is far from exhaustive. Some authors not mentioned above most likely had access to Nikephoros’ writings, e.g. Prochoros Kydones, who used one Nikephoros’ passage as a marginal note to the translation of Thomas Aquinas preserved in Vaticanus graecus 1102 (M, see n. 43, 34). A. R. Monaci esicasti e monaci bogomili: Le accuse di messalianismo e bogomilismo rivolte agli esicasti ed il problema dei rapporti tra esicasmo e bogomilismo. Firenze, 1989, 198–200. G, Geschichte III, 326. R, Monaci esicasti e monaci bogomili: Le accuse di messalianismo e bogomilismo rivolte agli esicasti ed il problema dei rapporti tra esicasmo e bogomilismo, see n. 56, 167–168. M. H. Die Affäre um den Mönch Niphon Skorpios und die MessalianismusVorwürfe gegen Kallistos I. in: Gregorio Palamas e oltre. Studi e documenti sulle controversie teologiche del XIV secolo bizantino. Ed. by A. R. Orientalia Venetiana 16. Firenze, 2004, 211–248, 217–227. Cf. also a brief recapitulation of the main arguments for different dates in: G, Historia. VI, 153. A 222; H, Les Vies des Saints du XIVe siècle en tant que biographie historique: l’œuvre de Nicéphore Grégoras, see n. 24, 225. According to R, Monaci esicasti e monaci bogomili: Le accuse di messalianismo e bogomilismo rivolte agli esicasti ed il problema dei rapporti tra esicasmo e bogomilismo, see n. 56, 248–254, Gregory Palamas and his followers were not openly hostile to sacred images, but they did not play any important role in their teaching.

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if he enumerates Messalian blasphemies,62 he never refers to Theodoros Graptos. Only occasionally Gregoras argues that his opponents are guilty of iconoclasm put into practice: ῞Οτι μὲν γὰρ καὶ θεῖαι τῶν ἁγίων εἰκόνες καὶ τοῖς περὶ τὸν Παλαμᾶν ἐῤῥιπτοῦντο πρὸς πῦρ, δῆλον μὲν τοῖς θεασαμένοις τε καὶ τὸ ἀπόῤῥητον ἐξειποῦσι καὶ ὅρκῳ βεβαιωσαμένοις τουτὶ πρὸς πολλούς· ὅτι δὲ φωραθέντες, καὶ δείσαντες τὴν τοῦ πλήθους ὁρμὴν, καὶ μάλιστα διὰ τὸ ἐπεισπεσὸν ἕτερον νέφος τῶν ἐγκλημάτων αὐτοῖς, προσκυνεῖν ὑποκρίνονται καὶ αὐτοὶ, καὶ πρὸς τοὺς θείους συνεισιέναι ναοὺς, σιωπῇ καλύπτεσθαι ἐπεπράχεσαν.63 That Palamas’ satellites threw the divine icons of saints into fire is evident to those who witnessed it and revealed this mystery, binding themselves with a public oath. But they managed to cover with silence that, having been caught red-handed and in fear of people’s wrath (first of all, in view of the flurry of new accusations brought against them), they pretend to venerate icons and to attend our divine churches. Nevertheless, such iconoclasm is just a symptom of another heresy and does not presuppose any strong theological foundation. Thus, these two accusations (iconoclastic practices of Bogomils and Messalians, on the one hand; iconoclastic theology of the Tabor light, on the other) are present in Gregoras’ writings separately, without any confluence. The earlier evidence for the use of Nikephoros’ texts for polemical purposes during the Hesychast controversy present the 1st Antirrhetici of Gregoras (1346/47). His adversaries, on the contrary, at that stage were not familiar neither with the name of Theodoros Graptos, nor with the treatises in question and, thus, attempted to question their authority. This conclusion is supported by Gregoras’ account of a dispute held at the Mangana monastery in summer/autumn 135664 in presence of the ex-emperor Ioannes Kantakouzenos. In course of the debate one of the monks from Kantakouzenos’ entourage stepped forward and delivered a speech concerning the authority of Theodoros’ Graptos testimonies. He wondered: Καὶ ποία τοῦτον, ἔφασκεν, οἶδεν ἐκκλησία; καὶ τίς αὐτοῦ ποτὲ μνήμην πεποίηται τῶν ἡμερῶν65 ; [. . . ] ὅτι πάνθ’ ὅσα βιβλία πεποιῆ62 63 64 65

E.g. G, Historia III, 543, l. 4–6; G, Ant. 131, l. 20–21. G, Historia II. 943, l. 13–19. See note 49 on p. 212 above. I accept the emendation ἡμετέρων proposed by  D (G, Geschichte VI, ).

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σθαι λέγεται κατὰ τῶν εἰκονομάχων αὐτῷ αἱρέσεων γέμει μακρῶν. καὶ εἰ μὲν ἕτεροί τινες ὑποβολιμαῖα παρεισενέγκαντες τὸ αὐτοῦ γε ἐπέγραψαν ὄνομα, ἀνέγκλητος μὲν ἔσται αὐτός, τὰ δὲ βιβλία οὔ· εἰ δ’ αὐτοῦ τῷ ὄντι βεβαίως εἰσίν, ὁμοῦ τοῖς βιβλίοις ἄρα ἀπόβλητος καὶ αὐτὸς καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις αἱρετικοῖς ἐναρίθμιος.66 What church knows him? Who of us commemorates him? [. . . ] All books he allegedly wrote against iconoclasts are full of abominable heresies. If it were the others who intentionally forged them and inscribed his name, he will be innocent of the charges, whereas his books – in no case. If, on the other hand, these books actually belong to him, he and his writings as well will be expelled and he will be numbered among other heretics. That Gregoras became the first to lay an accusation of iconoclasm and consequently to introduce Theodoros Graptos, confirms even his ardent opponent Philotheos Kokkinos. His main goal was to lure (if this expression is appropriate) Theodoros Graptos onto his side, proving that Gregoras was deluding himself as far as all Theodoros’ testimonies he had presented, actually witnessed against him. Kokkinos even confessed gratitude towards his opponent, since he had provided him with an effective (although previously ignored) polemical weapon: ῞Οτι μὲν οὖν καὶ ᾿Αρειανοῖς καὶ εἰκονομάχοις τὰ Γρηγορᾶ τε καὶ ᾿Ακινδύνου πολυτρόπως συμβαίνει, τὰ κατ’ἐκείνων ἤδη ῥηθέντα τῷ θαυμαστῷ Θεοδώρῳ δείκνυσιν ἐκδηλότατα, οὐ παρ’ ἡμῶν, ἀλλὰ παρ’ αὐτοῦ φημι Γρηγορᾶ καθ’ ἡμῶν τῷ λόγῳ παρεισαχθέντα, καθάπερ αὐτὸς οὗτος κακῶς ὑπείληφεν.67 That the teaching of Gregoras and Akindynos matches in many ways that of Arians and iconoclasts, demonstrate in the clearest way the words of the wondrous Theodoros directed against them, these sayings having been employed in the dispute not by us, but by Gregoras himself, as he erroneously assumed against us. Τί πρὸς ταῦτά φασιν οἱ τὰ Βαρλαάμ τε καὶ ᾿Ακινδύνου διεκδικοῦντες σύν γε τῷ Γρηγορᾷ τουτῳί, ὃς καὶ τὸν σοφὸν θεολόγον, Θεόδωρόν φημι τουτονὶ τὸν μέγαν, καθ’ ἡμῶν εἰς μαρτυρίαν προήνεγκεν, εὖ ποιῶν, οὐ μάλα τοι γινωσκόμενον καὶ ἡμῖν πρότερον [. . . ];68 66 67 68

G, Historia III. 381, l. 19–382, l. 4. K 453, l. 1483–1487. K 467, l. 1949–468, 1953.

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What are going to respond to this those who rival the fame of Barlaam and Akindynos, the adherents of Gregoras who brought the wise theologian (I speak of the great Theodoros) as a witness against us, thereby doing a noble deed since we had not been familiar with this saint previously [. . . ]? The discourse closes with an ironic passage: Καὶ μικροῦ καὶ χάριτας ἐν τούτῳ τέως ὁμολογεῖν ἔχω τῷ φιλοσόφῳ [. . . ] ὅτι, φημί, τὸν μέγαν τουτονὶ τῆς εὐσεβείας διδάσκαλον μετὰ τῆς ἱερᾶς θεολογίας παρῆχεν εἰς μέσους.69 I am compelled almost to confess gratitude to the philosopher [. . . ] since he has introduced to the public this great teacher of piety with his sacred theology. Unfortunately, we do not know exactly, what decision was made regarding Nikephoros’ testimonies at the Council of 1351. The Tomos does not specify it, although makes clear that it were “the leaders of the heretics” (οἱ τῆς αἱρέσεως προϊστάμενοι), i.e. anti-Palamites, who made use of Pseudo-Theodoros’ quotations “distorting and reinterpreting them to fit their impiety” (διαστρέφοντες καὶ παρερμηνεύοντες πρὸς τὴν οἰκείαν δυσσέβειαν). It is worth noting that Graptos is referred here as a “saint confessor” (ἐν ἁγίοις ὁμολογητοῦ).70 Nevertheless, Theodoros Dexios in his Appellation to Ioannes Kantakouzenos argues that Theodoros Graptos was “a saint, recently dishonored and cast off contemptuously by the Council proclaiming a new faith with your [Kantakouzenos’ – L.L.] tacit approval” (ὁ τὰ ἔσχατα περιϋβρισμένος καὶ ἀπεσκυβαλισμένος ἅγιος, σοῦ γε ἀνασχομένου, παρὰ τῆς τὴν νέαν παραδούσης πίστιν συνόδου).71 The emphatic verb ἀποσκυβαλίζω implies that during the Council Palamites did not re-interpret in their own way, but rejected Pseudo-Theodoros’ testimonies. My conclusion is that the accusation of iconoclasm originated within the antiPalamite circles and at least on the first stages of the controversy it were antiPalamites who attacked and Palamites who were forced to defend.72 3) This being established, we focus on later authors. It is evident that neither Kalothetes nor Palamas worked with original Nikephoros’ treatises as soon as all 69 70 71 72

K 478, l. 2279–2282. K 383. D 152. L expressed an opposite view: anti-Palamites were hostile to sacred images since their teaching inevitably deprived God’s energies of the ability to be actually present in the icon, thus, Palamites actually revealed their enemies’ hidden iconoclasm (V. L. Работы Антонио Риго по истории византийского исихазма. Vizantijskij vremennik 55 (1994), 332–336).

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quotations they made use of were borrowed indirectly via Gregoras, whom they sought to refute. E. g., both Nikephoros’ passages in the Oration against Nikephoros Gregoras of Kalothetes actually form a part of a more extensive quotation from the Chapter 30 of Gregoras’ Historia Rhomaike, which includes also a quotation from Basil the Great73 and Gregoras’ own remark.74 Whether Ioannes Kyparissiotes and Manuel Kalekas had access to Nikephoros’ manuscripts or not, is not clear yet. A few new excerpts they add might go back to an unknown anti-Palamite florilegium.75 Neither of them, anyway, shows any particular interest to the history of the iconoclastic controversy or to the life and deeds of Theodoros Graptos. On the other hand, the comparison demonstrates, that Isaak Argyros, Theodoros Dexios, Philotheos Kokkinos, and Ioannes Kantakouzenos did use Nikephoros’ passages unknown to Gregoras. The mutual relationship of Argyros’ and Dexios’ texts is not clear yet. It is highly probable that Argyros knew Nikephoros only via Dexios’ lost letter.76 In the cases of Kokkinos and Kantakouzenos we possess external supportive evidence allowing to suppose that they enjoyed direct access to Nikephoros’ writings. Philotheos Kokkinos after having quoted Gregoras citing Nikephoros (such citatio citationis is a common case in the texts we are dealing with), begins refutation with the following remark: Πρῶτον μὲν οὖν ἐκεῖνο πρὸς Γρηγορᾶν καὶ αὖθις εἰπεῖν ἔχομεν, ὡς οὐδ’ ἐνταῦθα τοὺς τοῦ διδασκάλου τουτουὶ λόγους ὡς ἔχουσι καλῶς προὔθηκεν, ἀλλὰ κἀν τούτοις πλεῖστά τινα τῶν ἀναγκαίων ὑφεῖλεν, ὡς ἔθος αὐτῷ, τῇ τοῦ λόγου λυμηνάμενος ἀκολουθίᾳ καὶ τάξει.77 First of all we can tell Gregoras straight away the following: even here he did not quote the teacher’s words in their correct form, but in this passage also, according to his habit, excluded many significant fragments and, thus, ruined the consistency and sequence of the argument. This reproach indicates that Kokkinos had at his disposal a fuller text and could verify the testimonies introduced by Gregoras. It is noteworthy that Kokkinos’ 73 74 75 76 77

K l. 969–971 = G, Historia III, 309, l. 10–11 = B. Contra Eunomium 716B. K l. 980–982 = G, Historia III, 310, l. 7–10. On florilegia containing Nikephoros’ passages see M, see n. 43, 192–197. D XXVI–XXIX. K 447, l. 1303–1306.

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own citations from Nikephoros are, as a rule, much more extensive than those of Gregoras. Suffice it to say that Gregoras’ longest quotation comprises 30 lines (in Bekker’s edition), whereas the correspondent Kokkinos’ – about 100. Gregoras’ method of quoting also confirms the correctness of Philotheos’ reproach: he often makes an amalgam of Nikephoros’ words combining different passages, reorganizes Nikephoros’ syntax and makes additions, while Kokkinos tries to quote his source in full without any omissions. A rough idea of Gregoras’ quoting method may be obtained from a close look at the Chapter 34 of the Historia Rhomaike. There on 5 pages of Bekker’s edition he assembles a mosaic of Nikephoros’ testimonies without any division (with the exception of καὶ πάλιν on 466, l. 15) or regard to the composition of the original Nikephoros’ text: G, Historia III 464, l. 11 464, l. 11–465, l. 17 465, l. 18–466, l. 1 466, l. 1–6 466, l. 6–15 466, l. 15–23 466, l. 23–467, l. 5 467, l. 6–468, l. 9 468, l. 9–22

N. Euseb. Euseb. 417, l. 34; Euseb. 415, l. 40–417, l. 26 (omitting 416, l. 17–29; 417, l. 6–10; 417, l. 16–24) Euseb. 413, l. 1–13 (omitting l. 7–9) Euseb. 411, l. 2–9 Euseb. 414, l. 23–36 Euseb. 410, 13–34 (omitting l. 19–27) Apol. 269A (with minor changes) Euseb. 418, l. 1–41 Euseb. 420, l. 10–27

Ioannes Kantakouzenos’ interest in the writings of Nikephoros is confirmed by the colophon of the Parisinus graecus 909: Τὸ παρὸν βιβλίον τοῦ ἁγίου Θεοδώρου τοῦ Γραπτοῦ τῷ μακρῷ χρόνῳ ἀφανισθέν, τῇ περὶ τὰς θείας γραφὰς φιλευσεβεῖ σπουδῇ καὶ φιλοκαλίᾳ τοῦ ἁγίου ἡμῶν αὐθέντου καὶ βασιλέως κυροῦ ᾿Ιωάσαφ τοῦ Καντακουζηνοῦ ζητηθέν, ἑνὸς μόνου βιβλίου εὑρεθέντος κἀκείνου πάνυ μὲν σαθροῦ διὰ παλαιότητα χρόνου, ἐσφαλμένου δὲ τῇ τοῦ γεγραφότος ἐκεῖνο ἰδιωτείᾳ, μετεγράφη εἰς ὠφέλειαν τῶν ἐντευξομένων ἐν ἔτει ͵ϛωοϛʹ μηνὶ μαρτίῳ ἰνδ. ϛʹ (fol. 341)78 The present book of saint Theodoros Graptos lost many years ago has been retrieved due to the pious zeal and diligence towards the Sacred Scripture of our saint lord and emperor Joasaph Kantakouzenos. But as only one copy was found, very age-worn and abundant in scribal 78

Quoted after F, see n. 19, 196, but in a revised orthography.

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errors, it was copied to benefit the future readers in March of the year 6876, 6th indiction. The above observations may be summarized as follows. The first accusation of iconoclasm was brought against Palamites no later than the mid-1340s. At this stage, however, it constituted only an element of a broader charge of Messalianism and Bogomilism. Nikephoros Gregoras became the first to elaborate this accusation basing on the writings of Pseudo-Theodoros Graptos (Nikephoros of Constantinople) in 1346/47. His adversaries’ attitude towards Nikephoros’ testimonies changed significantly over time: at first they attempted to cast doubt on their authority (Tomos of 1351, anonymous monk during the meeting at the Mangana monastery in 1356), then proceeded to re-evaluate the evidence presented (Palamas, Kalothetes), and finally undertook to acquire a fuller version of the texts in question in order to make their refutation more profound (Kokkinos, Kantakouzenos). Thus, within 20 years, which separate the 1st Antirrhetici of Gregoras and the colophon of the Parisinus graecus 909, their feeling towards Pseudo-Theodoros’ testimonies changed from rejection to acceptance and admiration. Unable to compromise Theodoros, Palamites chose to make him their own champion. As soon as a corpus of testimonies and a list of authors are established, let us proceed to the evaluation of the evidence. As it has been said above, Nikephoros’ testimonies were employed by both parties to prove that their opponents were guilty of iconoclasm. But it is crucial to take into account that the charge of iconoclasm did not necessarily presuppose accusation of any actual hostility to sacred images. “Iconoclasm” as seen by 14th c. authors was equal to a spiritualistic doctrine of Christ’s Transfiguration elaborated by (Pseudo?)-Eusebius of Caesarea and refuted by Nikephoros. For a 14th c. author to be an iconoclast did not imply to destroy holy icons or prohibit their veneration. It meant only to accept Eusebius’ teaching of “a form of a slave [i.e. human nature assumed by Christ in His Incarnation – L.L.] completely transformed under such conditions into ineffable and unutterable light, the light fitting to the Divine Logos Himself ” (ἡ τοῦ δούλου μορφὴ ἐν τοιούτοις γινομένη, ἐξ ὅλων ὅλη μεταβέβληται ἐπὶ φῶς αὐτοῦ ἄῤῥητον καὶ ἀνεκδιήγητον αὐτῷ τῷ Θεῷ Λόγῳ πρέπον φῶς).79 For Eusebius this meant that, since Transfiguration had taken place, one could not dare anymore to depict Christ with dead colors as His humanity was not anymore distinguishable from His divinity. Nevertheless, being a starting point for nearly all 14th c. authors I deal with (this Eusebian passage was known to Gregoras, Palamas, Dexios and Kokkinos),80 this assertion was by no means immanent to the iconoclastic controversy itself. 79 80

N. Euseb. 385, l. 10–14 = 415, l. 40–416, l. 1. This quotation is second in frequency (8 occurrences, 4 authors) after N. Apol. 304CD

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Strictly speaking, Eusebius’ teaching was bound to remain marginal even in the eyes of the iconoclastic party, as it was of little help for those who were seeking a proof that it had been Incarnation, but not Transfiguration that had rendered impossible every pictorial representation of Christ. Thus, the doctrine of uncircumscribability was elaborated, according to which, Christ’s divine nature prevailed over His humanity making His hypostasis uncircumscribable too.81 Consequently, the main point for Nikephoros was the discussion of Christ’s circumscribability. He tried to confirm it appealing to communicatio idiomatum that made Christ circumscribable as a man and uncircumscribable as God at once.82 According to his teaching, Christ can not be deprived of circumscribability as it would make the human nature He assumed imperfect, whereas “What has not been assumed cannot be restored” (τὸ ἀπρόσληπτον ἀθεράπευτον).83 However, we find no traces of these debates during the Hesychast controversy. A close reading of the sources allows to point out one more peculiarity: the actual history of the iconoclastic debate was of minor interest to the majority of 14th c. authors. The only exception is Nikephoros Gregoras who sought to actualize not only the ideological basis of the controversy, but also its history, thereby distorting the historical memory of the period. E. g., in his writings Eusebius of Caesarea (an author of the 4th c.) was not anymore distinguishable chronologically from Theodoros Graptos. Gregoras repeatedly speaks of him as of a contemporary of Theodoros Graptos and the iconoclastic emperor Theophilos (829–842; PMBZ, N8167), as if he had been a central figure of the iconoclastic controversy. Introducing Nikephoros’ testimonies, he attests Theodoros Graptos and Eusebius in the following manner: Δῆλον δ’ἐκ τῶν τότ’ἀγωνισαμένων κατὰ τῆς αἱρέσεως θεολόγων ἀνδρῶν γε ποιήσομαι, ἕνα διὰ τὸ σύντομον Θεόδωρον προχειρισάμενος τὸν Γραπτόν, ὃς Εὐσεβίῳ τῶν τότε λογίων εἰκονομάχων τῷ πρώτῳ συμπλακεὶς [. . . ]84 I’m going to demonstrate it [that Palamite teaching is merely a renovated iconoclasm – L.L.] with the help of theologians of the time who combated this heresy, for the sake of time putting forward only one of

81 82 83

84

(11 occurrences, 5 authors), which deals with the notions of God’s energy and essence: Nikephoros states that it is both impossible to imagine “an essence without energy” (οὐσία ἀνενέργητος) and “an energy without essence” (ἀνούσιος ἐνέργεια). N. Apol. 236CD; M XIII, 252AB. N. Apol. 585CD. On this issue see A, see n. 7, 191–193 and K. P. Depicting the Word: Byzantine Iconophile Thought in Eighth and Ninth Centuries. The Medieval Mediterranean 12. Leiden, New York, and Köln, 1996, 99–113. G, Ant. 313, l. 1–3.

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them – Theodoros Graptos who entered a hand-to-hand battle with Eusebius, the first among the eminent iconoclasts of the time. The words τῶν τότε λογίων εἰκονομάχων clearly indicate that for Gregoras Eusebius was a full participant of the iconoclastic controversy. A similar expression is employed in Gregoras’ Historia Rhomaike: Θεόδωρος [. . . ] πλείσταις μὲν καὶ ἄλλαις ἱεραῖς αὐτοῦ βίβλοις τὴν τοῦ θεοῦ ἐκκλησίαν κεκόσμηκε, μάλιστα δ’ αἷς κατὰ τῶν εἰκονομάχων ἐξέθετο, τοῖς συγγράμμασιν ἐντυγχάνων τοῦ τότε τὰ πρῶτα φέροντος ἐν λόγοις ἀσεβοῦς Εὐσεβίου.85 Theodoros [. . . ] adorned God’s Church with many other sacred books but in the first place with the writings he composed against iconoclasts, having read the treatises of impious Eusebius, the first in scholarship at that time. Moreover, Gregoras was completely ignorant of the real iconoclastic leaders and consequently Nikephoros’ of Constantinople opponents. Quoting a few lines belonging to the iconoclastic emperor Constantine V,86 he says that these are “warlike words of the heads of iconoclasm” (τὰ τῶν προέδρων τῆς εἰκονομαχίας ἐναγώνια ῥήματα),87 without mentioning any names. As a result, Theodoros Graptos transformed into the most important figure of the iconophile resistance: ῞Οτε δὴ καὶ πάσας μὲν ἀρχὰς, πάσας δ’ ἐξουσίας, οἱ τῆς νόσου ταύτης ὑπηρέται διενενέμηντο [. . . ] καὶ σχεδὸν ὁ τῶν τηνικαῦτα βίος ἀνθρώπων, διὰ τρυφὴν καὶ βλακείαν, εἰς τὴν τῶν βασιλικῶν θεσπισμάτων ἔκλινε κολακείαν, καὶ πάνυ βραχεῖς τινες ἦσαν, ὧν ἐλεύθερον τῆς ψυχῆς ὑπῆρχε τὸ φρόνημα, καὶ ἔζει τὸ τῆς καρδίας πῦρ [. . . ] ὧν εἷς καὶ Θεόδωρος ἦν, ὁ πολλὴν μὲν τὴν ἐκ λόγων σοφίαν, πολλὴν δὲ τὴν τοῦ σώματος καρτερίαν πρὸς τὰς τῶν πολεμίων ἐκείνων πληγὰς ἐνδειξάμενος, καὶ δι’ αὐτῶν τοῖς πατρίοις τὸ βέβαιον καὶ ἀσάλευτον χαρισάμενος δόγμασι τὸ νεμόμενον ἔπαυσε τῆς κακίας ἐκείνης.88 When all ranks and powers were divided between the servants of the illness [. . . ] and due to the slackness and stupidity the very human life 85 86 87 88

G, Historia III. 463, l. 22–464, l. 10. G, Historia II. 1138, l. 23–1139, l. 4 = N. Apol. 333B. G, Historia II. 1138, l. 22. G, Historia II. 1138, l. 1–14.

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was inclined to flatter the emperor’s decrees, and few were those whose mind was free and heart was burning with fire [. . . ] one of them was Theodoros who showed both great wisdom in preaching and great bodily firmness towards his enemies’ strokes, thereby strengthening and confirming the steadfastness of the teaching of the Fathers, and stopped the diffusion of evil. It is evident from the last words (τὸ νεμόμενον ἔπαυσε τῆς κακίας ἐκείνης) that it was neither Patriarch Methodios, nor Empress Theodora in Gregoras’ eyes but only Theodoros Graptos who had put an end to the iconoclastic heresy. I believe that this chronological discrepancy should not be interpreted as a rough mistake – Gregoras was too well educated not to realize, that Eusebius had lived 400 years before the outbreak of the iconoclastic controversy.89 This seeming contradiction is rather a realization of a basic heresiological principle employed by Gregoras. He believed that in the sphere of heresiology the chronological factor is insignificant in comparison with the typological one: all heresies are ever-existing and can return to life at every moment, giving birth to every possible hybrid.90 The only rule is that, within Gregoras’ eschatological perspective, every new heresy was worse than previous: Τοιούτους γε μὴν καὶ νῦν ἐφ’ἡμῶν τὴν περὶ τὸν Παλαμᾶν συμμορίαν ἐθεασάμεθα, οἳ πάντας ἐκείνους μακροῖς τοῖς ὅροις παρήλασαν, ὥσπερ μιμουμένου τοῦ βίου τοὺς ῥήτορας κἀν ταῖς τῶν χρόνων τούτων ἐσχατιαῖς ἀνακεφαλαιουμένου καὶ ὥσπερ ἐπανάληψιν91 ποιουμένου διὰ τῶν μιαρῶν τουτωνὶ καὶ πάσας συλλήβδην εἰπεῖν τὰς ἄλλοτ’ἄλλας ἀναφυείσας αἱρέσεις συνυφαίνοντός τε καὶ δεικνύοντος ἠθροισμένας ὁμοῦ [. . . ].92 Nowadays, we have witnessed the Palamas’ gang, which far outstripped all predecessors, do the same, as if our very life in these last times imitated public speakers summing up, making a recapitulation, and (to 89

90

91 92

Surprisingly, Gregoras’ Life of Constantine the Great (BHG, N369) was greatly inspired by Eusebius (H, Les Vies des Saints du XIVe siècle en tant que biographie historique: l’œuvre de Nicéphore Grégoras, see n. 24, 297–298). One may wonder, whether Gregoras was fully aware of the fact that he was thus quoting a “heretic”. In this respect Gregoras might have also followed Nikephoros of Constantinople. Cf.: “To sum up, one can say that from the alliance of the Manichean echidna and the Arian asp a new twoheaded reptile was born [. . . ]” (Καὶ ὡς ἂν συλλαβών τις εἴποι, ἐκ τῆς Μανιχαϊκῆς ἐχίδνης, καὶ τῆς ᾿Αρειανικῆς ἀσπίδος, ἕτερός τις ἐκ συμπλοκῆς τούτων οἷον ἑρπυστὴς ἀμφικέφαλος ἐξέφυ [. . . ] – N. Apol. 209CD). Note the rhetorical termini technici. G, Ant. 153, l. 5–10.

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put it briefly) using these filthy men to sew together and demonstrate united all heresies that have ever existed. To withstand such an enemy is hardly an easy task since it escapes like a moving target and shifts its shape at will like Proteus.93 Speaking of heresies of Bogomils and Eunomians, Gregoras makes the following remark: ᾿Εν γὰρ ἄλλοις ἐνίοτε καὶ ἐνιαχοῦ νῦν μὲν συμφωνοῦντες, νῦν δὲ νικῶντες τῇ τῆς κακίας ἀλλήλους ὑπερβολῇ κατά γε ταυτὶ κοινωνοῦσιν ἀλλήλοις σαφῶς ὥσπερ ἀσπὶς τὸ θηρίον ἐχίδνῃ καὶ λύκος ἀλώπεκι, κακίας μεταδιδόντες ἀλλήλοις καὶ σπονδὰς οὑτωσὶ θηριώδεις ποιούμενοι.94 Being like-minded from time to time in some regards, and sometimes surpassing each other in evil, they unite and enter into beastly alliance just as an asp with an echidna or a wolf with a fox and share their wickedness. In Gregoras’ view, there was no chronological gap between Eunomians, Bogomils, iconoclasts, and Palamites since “the likeness of behavior somehow unites what has been separated by chronological dissociation” (Αἱ γὰρ τῶν τρόπων ὁμοιότητες συνάπτουσι μέν πως τὰς χρονικὰς διαστάσεις).95 This clearly stated typological principle allows Gregoras to use anti-arian, antieunomian and anti-iconoclastic sources to refute what he calls “Palamite heresy”. Precisely for this reason “the sayings of divine Fathers that at that time stopped Eunomius’ mouth, being put forward now, will likewise make silent Palamas” (ὅσα τοῖς θείοις λεχθέντα πατράσι τὸν Εὐνόμιον ἐπεστόμισαν τότε, ταῦτ’εἰς μέσον ἀχθέντα καὶ Παλαμᾶν ὁμοίως ἐπιστομίσουσι νῦν).96 After having quoted a relevant passage from Pseudo-Theodoros, Gregoras appeals to his audience with the following remark: ᾿Ακούετε πῶς καὶ Εἰκονομάχοις ταὐτὰ φθεγγόμενος Παλαμᾶς, ὁ τῆς νῦν ἐκκλησίας διδάσκαλος, τοῖς αὐτοῖς βάλλεται βέλεσι πρὸς τοῦ στρατηγοῦντος γενναίως ὑπὲρ τῆς εὐσεβείας πατρὸς καὶ διδασκάλου τῆς ἐκκλησίας.97 93 94 95 96 97

G, Ant. 153, l. 15–17, 20. G, Ant. 251, l. 22–26. G, Ant. 221, 2–3. G, Ant. 225, 1–2. G, Historia II. 1143, l. 11–14.

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You hear how Palamas, the teacher of the nowadays church, declaring the same things as iconoclasts did, is wounded by the same arrows of our father and teacher of the Church who fights boldly for piety. If Hesychasm in Gregoras’ interpretation was no more than a renovated iconoclasm in combination with other heresies of old times, if Palamas was a heretic par excellence (new Arius, Eunomius, and Eusebius), Gregoras himself would naturally become a new confessor Theodoros Graptos, and Ioannes Kantakouzenos – a new impious tyrant Theophilos. It seems highly probable that Gregoras did have this picture in mind when he wrote, e. g., these lines: ᾿Εμοὶ δὲ σκοπός τε καὶ πρόθεσις ἦν τῆς ψυχῆς [. . . ] πρόμαχον παρασχέσθαι γλῶτταν, ὅσον ἐφικτόν, ἐκείνῳ τῷ σοφῷ Θεοδώρῳ καὶ μάρτυρι τῆς ἀληθείας, περιφανῶς συκοφαντουμένῳ νῦν πρὸς τῶν Παλαμιτῶν, καθάπερ πρὸς τῶν εἰκονομάχων τότε [. . . ] οἷς κἀγὼ τήμερον, τοῖς τῶν ἐκείνου λόγων ὅπλοις θαρρήσας, ἀνθίσταμαί τε καὶ ἀντιστήσομαι, καὶ τοὺς ὑπὲρ ἀληθείας ἀνακαινίζειν ἄθλους ἐκείνου τό γε εἰς ἐμὲ ἧκον οὐ κατοκνήσω κατὰ τῶν τὴν αἵρεσιν ἐκείνην ἀνακαινίζειν τολμώντων τήμερον [. . . ].98 My aim and desire of the soul was to stand up with my speech (as it would be within my power) for wise Theodoros who martyred for truth and now is apparently calumniated by Palamites just as he was by iconoclasts in old days [. . . ] and today relying on the weapons of his words, I resist and shall resist and shall not be afraid to renew to the best of mine his exploits for truth against those who dare to renew today this heresy. These recurring juxtapositions (Palamites – iconoclasts, νῦν – τότε, ἀνακαινίζειν ἄθλους – ἀνακαινίζειν αἵρεσιν) allow Gregoras to transmit the whole 9th c. ideological situation (as he understood it) into the 14th c. and make it seem up-to-date and actual. It is noteworthy that Gregoras was not the unique 14th c. author who attempted to find parallels between the life of Theodoros and Theophanes Graptoi and his own fate. Half a century before him, Theodora Raoulaina composed the Life of Theophanes and Theodoros Graptoi (BHG, N1793), drawing strong parallels between the heresy of iconoclasm and the contemporary unionist politics, by comparison of her brothers’-in-law (Isaak and Manuel) sufferings at the 98

G, Historia III. 458, l. 6–18.

Historical Memory of Byzantine Iconoclasm



hands of Michael VIII Palaiologos with those of Theodoros and Theophanes at the hands of Theophilos.99 Gregoras’ concern with the history of the 9th c. is quite evident if we have a look at his hagiographical writings. Three of them deal with 9th c. saints (Michael the Synkellos, Empress Theophano, and Patriarch Antonios II).100 Moreover, Gregorios Akindynos praises Gregoras for using the Life of Theophano (BHG, N1795) to refute Palamites.101 This means that a tendency to reinterpret the past within the framework of actual polemics is not an isolated device, but a permanent feature of Gregoras’ writings. Moreover, Gregoras was sure that he possessed every right to lay claim to Nikephoros’ legacy: [. . . ] οἱ τότε σοφοὶ τῆς τοῦ Θεοῦ ᾿Εκκλησίας [. . . ] συνεγράψαντό τε καὶ ἡμῖν τοῖς μετ’ ἐκείνους ἰοῦσι συμμαχίας προεμνηστεύσαντο κρατίστης ὑπόμνημα. προῄδεσαν γὰρ ἐκεῖνοι, τῷ θείῳ φωτιζόμενοι πνεύματι, τὴν ἐν τῷ τέλει τῶν αἰώνων τῆς εἰκονομαχίας ἀναβίωσιν ταυτηνί, ἣν Παλαμᾶς μὲν ὠδίνησέ τε καὶ ἔτεκεν, αἱ δὲ τηνικαῦτα ἡγεμονίαι καὶ ἐξουσίαι τοῦ παρόντος αἰῶνος καὶ σκότους [. . . ] ἐμαιεύσαντό τε καὶ ἐξέθρεψαν.102 [. . . ] the wise of the God’s Church who flourished at that time [. . . ] composed and bequeathed to us coming after them their treatises as a reminder of powerful alliance. The reason is that, being enlightened by the Divine Spirit, they foreknew the revival of iconoclasm at the end of times that has been begotten by Palamas and nourished and cultivated [. . . ] by the powers and authorities of the present age and darkness. Nevertheless, as the preceding analysis shows, there was hardly any grain of truth in this assertion: the opponents of Gregoras based their refutations on similar methodological principles (though did not ever stated them explicitly) and A.-M. T. Bluestocking Nuns: Intellectual Life in the Convents of Late Byzantium. Harvard Ukrainian Studies (Okeanos. Essays, presented to Ihor Ševˇcenko on his 60th Birthday by his Colleagues and Students) 7 (1983), 604–618, 615. 100 According to H, it is a mere coincidence: “[. . . ] je crois cependant qu’il s’agit plutôt de pur hasard. On ne peut pas attribuer à l’écrivain une certaine préférence pour cette époque[. . . ]” (H, Les Vies des Saints du XIVe siècle en tant que biographie historique: l’œuvre de Nicéphore Grégoras, see n. 24, 295). 101 A 66; H, Les Vies des Saints du XIVe siècle en tant que biographie historique: l’œuvre de Nicéphore Grégoras, see n. 24, 293–294. 102 G, Historia III. 463, l. 7–16. 99

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Lev Lukhovitskij

believed with all their heart that it were them who had every right to lay a claim to Nikephoros’ of Constantinople legacy. Thus, we may ascertain that within the domain of theological literature, just like in historiography, and perhaps in other seemingly remote spheres,103 the two opposing tendencies of recollection and oblivion104 are mutually complementary and parallel. A desire to draw an analogy between the epoch they lived in and the era of iconoclasm coerced Palamites and their adversaries to retrieve from oblivion Nikephoros’ treatises. However, all their efforts resulted in nothing but further distortion of the historical memory they wished to preserve. The history of the iconoclastic controversy did acquire an up-to-date dimension, but only at the cost of Nikephoros’ of Constantinople and Theodoros’ Graptos memory.

103 For a convincing attempt to trace the obsession with the 9th c. during the Hesychast controversy

(and even more broadly, during the whole Palaiologan period) on the iconographic level see D. K. The British Museum Triumph of Orthodoxy Icon. In: Byzantine Orthodoxies (Papers from the 36th Spring symposium of Byzantine Studies, University of Durham, 23–25 March 2002). Ed. by A. L and A. C. Aldershot, 2006, 121–130. Note that among the saints portrayed in the icon in question (Triumph of Orthodoxy icon, British Museum, late 14th c.) we do not see Patriarch Nikephoros, whereas brothers Theodoros and Theophanes Graptoi are quite expectedly present. 104 From the point of view of methodology, cf. I. P. “Историческая память в Византии: Представления византийских хронистов VI–XII вв. об эпохе становления христианского царства”. Unpublished doctoral dissertation. Moskva: Institut Vseobshchej istorii, 2011.

Sources and Abbreviations A: A. C. H. Letters of Gregory Akindynos. Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae, Series Washingtonensis 21. Washington DC, 1983 A: M. C. Argiro contra Dexio. Orientalia Christaiana Periodica 23 (1957), 80–113 B. Contra Eunomium: J. P. M. Basilii Caesareae Cappadociae archiepiscopi Libri quibus impii Eunomii apologeticus evertitur. Vol. 29. Patrologiae cursus completus. Series graeca. Paris, 1857, 497–774 BHG: F. H. Bibliotheca hagiographica graeca. 3rd ed. Bruxelles, 1957; F. H. Novum auctarium bibliothecae hagiographicae graecae. Bruxelles, 1984 D: I. D. P. Theodori Dexii Opera omnia. Corpus christianorum, Series graeca 55. Turnhout and Leuven, 2003 G, Ant.: H.-V. B. Nikephoros Gregoras. Antirrhetica I. Wiener Byzantinistische Studien 12. Wien, 1976 G, Geschichte: J. L. van D and F. T. Nikephoros Gregoras. Rhomäische Geschichte (Historia Rhomaïke). 6 vols. Bibliothek der griechischen Literatur 4, 8, 9, 24, 39, 59, 66. Stuttgart, 1973–2007 G, Historia: E. B and L. S. Nicephori Gregorae Byzantina historia. 3 vols. Bonn, 1829–1855 K Ess.: Manuelis Calecae De essentia et operatione. J. P. Migne. Patrologiae cursus completus. Series graeca. Vol. 152. Paris, 1866, 283–428 K Corr.: R. J. L. Correspondance de Manuel Calecas. Studi e testi, 152. Vaticano, 1950 K: D. T. ᾿Ιωσὴφ Καλοθέτου συγγράμματα. Thessalonike, 1980 K: E. V and F. T. Iohannis Cantacuzeni opera. Refutationes duae Prochori Cydonii ed Disputatio cum Paulo Patriarcha latino epistulis septem tradita. Corpus christianorum, Series graeca 16. Turnhout, 1987 K: I. K. Τὰ δογματικὰ καὶ συμβολικὰ μνημεῖα τῆς ὀρθοδόξου καθολικῆς ἐκκλησίας. 2nd ed. Vol. 1. Athens, 1960 K: D. B. K. Φιλοθέου Κοκκίνου Δογματικὰ ἔργα. Thessalonike, 1983 K: Joannis Sapientis cognomeno Cyparissiotae Expositio materiaria eorum quae de Deo a theologis dicuntur in decem decades partita. J. P. Migne. Patrologiae cursus completus. Series graeca. Vol. 152. Paris, 1866, 737–992 M: J. D. M. Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima collectio. 31 vols. Florentiae and Venetiae, 1759–1798

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N. Apol.: Nicephori archiepiscopi Constantinopolitani Antirrhetici tres. Apologeticus pro sacris imaginibus. J. P. Migne. Patrologiae cursus completus. Series graeca. Vol. 100. Paris, 1865, 205A–832A N. Euseb.: Eusebii Caesariensis confutatio. J. B. Pitra. Spicilegium Solesmense complectens sanctorum patrum scriptorumque ecclesiasticorum anecdota hactenus opera. Vol. 1. Paris, 1852, 371–503 P: P. C. Γρηγορίου τοῦ Παλαμᾶ Συγγράμματα. 5 vols. Thessalonike, 1988–1992 PLP: E. T, R. W, and H.-V. B. Prosopographisches Lexikon der Palaiologenzeit. 12 vols. Wien, 1976–1996 PMBZ: R.-J. L et al. Prosopographie der mittelbyzantinischen Zeit. Erste Abteilung (641–867). 7 vols. Berlin and New York, 1998–2001 S: M. J, L. P, and X. A. S. Œuvres complètes de Georges (Gennadios) Scholarios. 8 vols. Paris, 1928–1936

Appendix: Direct quotations from Nikephoros of Constantinople / Pseudo-Theodoros Graptos

G. Ant. (page, line)

II. 940, 21–941, 2 III. 460, 13–15

385, 9–14 (= 415, 40–416, 3)

II. 951, 16–19 III. 309, 18–22 II. 1138, 23–1139, 4 II. 1139, 5–16

II. 951, 6–16 III. 309, 22–310, 7

III. 462, 1–24 (with omissions)

313, 3–6

325, 2–4

317, 3–5 325, 11–12 323, 24–325, 1 237, 17–239, 6

315, 26–317, 2 323, 6–8

II. 942, 22–943, 4 II. 948, 11–15 II. 1143, 1–6 III. 460, 22–461, 2 III. 466, 23–467, 5 II. 943, 5–8 II. 943, 5–8 II. 952, 18–20

G. Hist. (vol., page, line)

384, 10–385, 12

336BC N. Euseb. (page, line)

333B

325B

320A

304CD

297D

297C

269AB

N. Apol. (column)

A (page, line) 96, 25–27

94, 21–28 (484, 10–24 only)

D. Appellation (chap., line) 47, 34–36 50, 51–54 60, 11–16 60, 18–20

K (line) 971–974

974–979

P. IV (page, line) 324, 32–325, 3 327, 18–21

K (line) 500–504 1298–1302

D. Epistle I (chap., line) 7, 7–9 7, 29–30

K. (chap., line) 43, 26–33

K. (col.) 849B

971AB

K Ess. (col.) 360A

357D360A

Historical Memory of Byzantine Iconoclasm



III. 465, 18–466, 1 (413, 7–9 om.)

III. 466, 6–15

II. 1143, 9–11

413, 1–13

414, 23–36

415, 7–9 415, 29–36

415, 40–417, 33

III. 466, 1–6

411, 2–9

II. 948, 22–950, 7 (from 416, 11; om. 416, 17–31) III. 464, 19–20 (416, 9–10 only) III. 464, 11–465, 17 (up to 417, 26; om. 416, 17–29; 417, 6–10; 417, 16–24)

III. 466, 15–23 (with omissions)

410, 13–34

G. Ant. (page, line)

II. 1143, 7–9

G. Hist. (vol., page, line)

409, 32–35

408, 2–30

386, 28–39 (=466, 27–37). 405, 15–406, 7

A (page, line) 98, 1–5

96, 15–19 (414, 23–31 only)

108, 7–24

96, 3–14

P. IV (page, line) 327, 26–27 (416, 9–10 only)

327, 28 (414, 23–24 only) 328, 1–4 (414, 25–30 only)

K (line) 434–457 (416, 4–417, 26 only; om. 416, 17–29; 417, 6–10; 417, 16–24)

485–493

493–500 (with omissions) 481–485 474–481 (413, 7–9 om.)

1706–1719 (up to 408, 24)

1841–1848

D. Epistle I (chap., line) 9, 2–17 (up to 408, 27)

K. (col.) 846BD

 Lev Lukhovitskij

K Ess. (col.)

K. (chap., line)

K (line)

D. Appellation (chap., line)

313, 18–315, 14

418, 419, 7

420, 29 421, 12– 422, 4 428, 3–10 428, 21–32 428, 34–36 429, 33–430, 10 430, 22–431, 2 446, 19–447, 11 466, 38–472, 13

420, 10–27

III. 460, 20–22

II. 942, 10–22 (420, 13–24 only) III. 468, 9–22

II. 941, 14–942, 10

313, 7–14 (up to 418, 16)

315, 17–23 (420, 13–24 only) 315, 23

II. 941, 2–14 (up to 418, 15) III. 464, 11 III. 467, 6–468, 9 (418, 1–41 only)

G. Ant. (page, line)

22–

G. Hist. (vol., page, line)

417, 34– 418, 41

A (page, line) 98, 13–27

K (line) 1850–1948

1793–1813

1731–1742

1289–1298 (from 420, 13)

1273–1289 1479–1483 (418, 29–34 only)

427–429 (417, 34–36 only) 1264–1272 (418, 1–15 only)

D. Epistle I (chap., line) 9, 32–41

9, 17–23 9, 25–32

K. (col.) 849AB

848D849A (up to 418, 15

Historical Memory of Byzantine Iconoclasm



K Ess. (col.)

K. (chap., line)

P. IV (page, line)

K (line)

D. Appellation (chap., line)

 Abamon, 16 Abaris, 172, 177 Achilles Tatius, 85 Agathias, 75, 77–97, 99, 101, 102 Aischylos, 185 Alexander of Aphrodisias, 129, 130, 132, 134, 142 Alexandria, 85, 128, 133 Alexios I Komnenos, 206 Ammonios, 48, 138 Anastasios of Sinai, 8, 112, 128, 133 Anebo, 16 Anna Komnene, 206 Anna of Savoy, 212 Antichrist, 110 Antonios II (patriarch), 225 Apollo, 149, 169, 173, 188 Apollos, 67 Archangels, 109 Areopagus, 110 Arethas of Caesarea, 123, 132 Arians, 215 Aristotle, 32–34, 36, 39, 41, 43, 47, 48, 52, 53, 80, 88, 89, 96, 131, 132, 141, 143 Arius, 207, 224 Artemis, 67 Asia, 172 Asklepios, 139, 184 Athanasios of Alexandria, 133, 138 Athena, 67 Attikos, 42 Augustine, 6 Barlaam, 216 Basil II, 107, 117 Basil the Great, 49, 50, 52, 82, 83, 133, 217

Beit She’an, 91 Berengarius of Tour, 121 Beseleel, 113 Blachernae, 121 Blemmydes, see Nikephoros Blemmydes Bogomils, 214, 223 Byzantines, 132, 206 Byzantium, 8, 10, 11, 57, 80, 112, 113, 116, 123, 199, 205 Calcidius, 6, 50 Cassian, 123 Chora (monastery), 209 Christians, 124, 151 Chumnos, see Nikephoros Chumnos Cicero, 8 Cleitophon, 85 Clement of Alexandria, 81, 131 Constantia Augusta, 207 Constantine the Great, 207 Constantine V, 11, 199, 207, 221 Constantinople, 115, 123, 206, 209, 211 Critias, 81 Damaskios, 62, 64, 146, 150, 192, 193 Damaskos, 127 David, 48, 50, 54 Egyptians, 148, 184 Elias, 48 Empedokles, 150, 185 Ephesos, 123 Er, 97, 100 Eriugena, 24 Eudemos, 96 Eunomians, 223

 Eunomios, 223, 224 Euripides, 164 Eusebius of Caesarea, 207, 219–222, 224 Euthymios of Sardis, 87 Evagrios, 89 Gabriel (Archangel), 92 Gennadios Scholarios, 57, 205, 206 George of Pisidia, 8 Georgios Gemistos, 6, 57, 58, 66– 72, 142 Gnostics, 49 Greeks, 150, 176, 184 Gregoras, see Nikephoros Gregoras Gregorios Akindynos, 213, 215, 216, 225 Gregorios of Nyssa, 46, 47, 49 Gregorios Palamas, 210, 213, 214, 216, 219, 222–225 Gregory Asbestas, 109–112 Gregory the Great (pope), 118, 126, 210 Hagia Sophia, 109, 124 Hecate, 29, 158, 159, 175, 176, 190–192, 194–197 Hera, 69, 71 Hermeias, 156, 180 Hermotimus, 149 Herodotus, 65 Homer, 5, 84, 86, 172 Humbert of Silva Candida, 123 Hypatios of Ephesos, 86, 101 Iamblichos, 5, 14–18, 20, 21, 25, 26, 57, 144–148, 150– 154, 156–166, 168, 171, 176–178, 188–191, 194– 196 Iconoclasts, 95, 113, 215

Ignatios, 109–112 Ioannes, see also John, Johannes Ioannes Kantakuzenos, 209, 211, 212, 214, 216–219, 224 Ioannes Kyparissiotes, 209, 213, 217 Isaak, 224 Isaak Argyros, 212, 217 Israel, 91 Jacob Baradaeus, 94 Jacob of Edessa, 92 Jacobites, 94 Jesus Christ, 25, 27, 83, 86, 92, 93, 111–113, 121–124, 137, 147, 199–202, 219, 220 Jews, 113, 123, 124 Johannes Duns Scotus, 141, 209 John, see also Ioannes John Italos, 6, 52–55, 57, 132, 206, 209 John Mauropous, 119 John of Damaskos, 8, 11, 50–52, 54, 82, 87, 99, 120, 127–142, 200, 205 John of Scythopolis, 91–94, 96, 97, 99 John Philoponos, 7, 36, 37, 39, 41– 44, 48, 49, 129, 130, 134, 135, 138, 142 John the Baptist, 123 John the Grammarian, 110, 112 Joseph Kalothetes, 210, 216, 217, 219 Julian, 178–180 Justin II, 94 Justinian, 124 Kallistos I (patriarch), 211 Kalvenos Tauros, 42 Kokkinos, see Philotheos Kokkinos

INDEX

Kolothes, 97 Kosmas Indicopleustes, 107, 124 Kronos, 66, 70 Latins, 122, 123 Lazaros, 110 Leo III, 10 Leo of Chalcedon, 206 Leo the Patrician, 108 Leo V, 207 Leontios of Byzantium, 133 Leontios of Neapolis, 81 Louis II, 111 Macedonius Consul, 85 Magi, 121 Makrobios, 97 Mangana (monastery), 212, 214, 219 Manichaeans, 49–51 Manuel, 224 Manuel Kalekas, 213, 217 Marcus Aurelius, 88 Marinos, 29, 97 Markos Eugenikos, 206 Mary, 93, 200, see also Theotokos Maximos Homologetes, 2, 88, 131, 133, 138 Maximos the Confessor, see Maximos Homologetes Messalians, 213, 214 Methodios (patriarch), 112, 207, 222 Metochites, see Theodoros Metochites Michael (Archangel), 75, 78–82, 84, 92, 94 Michael Keroularios, 122, 123

 Michael Psellos, 6, 8, 52–54, 57, 116, 121, 122, 126, 131, 132, 138, 175 Michael the Synkellos, 209, 225 Michael VIII Palaiologos, 225 Mistra, 6 Mongolia, 149, 172 Monophysites, 93, 125 Neophytos Enkleistos, 8 Neoplatonists, 15, 17, 18, 89, 96, 126, 128, 154, 180 Nicholas I, 111 Nikephoros (patriarch), 11, 112, 124, 199, 200, 205–209, 213, 214, 216–222, 225, 226 Nikephoros Blemmydes, 38, 44, 45 Nikephoros Chumnos, 8, 31–34, 38–40, 45–50, 52, 53, 55 Nikephoros Gregoras, 208–225 Niketas Stethatos, 8, 120 Niketas the Paphlagonian, 109 Nikomachos of Gerasa, 184 Nonnos, 84 Olympiodoros, 48 Origen, 49, 92, 131 Orpheus, 185 Palamas, see Gregorios Palamas Palamites, 210, 213, 216, 219, 223– 226 anti-Palamites, 210, 212, 213, 216 Palestine, 93 Panaitios, 8 Parcae, 100 Paris, 30

 Parmenides, 148–150, 164, 165, 167, 171, 173, 176, 182, 183, 185 Paul (apostle, saint), 13, 110, see also Paul of Tarsos Paul of Callinicum, 92 Paul of Tarsos, 138, 209, see also Paul (apostle, saint) Pausias, 81 Peloponnese, 57 Pera, 213 Persephone, 67 Peter (saint), 112 Phaidros, 154 Phidias, 4 Philo of Alexandria, 134, 138 Philoponos, see John Philoponos Philotheos Kokkinos, 209, 211, 212, 215–219 Phokas, 92 Photios, 52, 108–111, 115, 122, 128, 131, 132, 205 Plato, 5, 6, 17, 21, 28, 32, 33, 39– 42, 47, 62–65, 69, 80, 81, 88, 100, 128, 129, 133– 136, 138, 141, 157, 160, 179, 187, 188 Platonists, 149 Pletho, see Georgios Gemistos Pliny the Elder, 81 Plotinos, 3, 4, 6, 7, 9, 14, 15, 28, 34, 35, 48, 57, 61, 68, 71, 81, 82, 134, 151, 154, 155, 193, 194, 209 Plutarch, 42, 49, 81 Pluto, 67 Porphyrios, 15, 16, 21, 42, 54, 57, 97, 131, 133, 151, 162, 196

Poseidon, 67, 69–72 Prochoros Kydones, 212, 213 Proklos, 4–6, 9, 13–15, 17, 20, 29, 37, 40–44, 48, 49, 53, 54, 57–67, 69–72, 90, 94, 97– 101, 133, 138, 139, 143, 146, 150, 155–157, 181, 182, 186–189, 191–193 Prokopios (usurper), 92 Proteus, 223 Ps.-Archytas of Tarentos, 132, 133 Ps.-Cyril of Alexandria, 137 Ps.-Dionysios the Areopagite, 2, 3, 6, 8, 9, 13, 14, 18, 20–30, 51, 52, 82–85, 90, 92–95, 99, 101, 102, 126, 131, 133, 135, 138 Ps.-Theodoros Graptos, 206, 210, 216, 219, 223, see also Theodoros Graptos Psellos, see Michael Psellos Pythagoras, 21, 148, 149, 172, 177, 185 Périclès de Lydie, 36 Rhea, 66, 70 Rome, 110, 117, 123 Scholarios, see Gennadios Scholarios Scythopolis, 91 Severos of Antioch, 92–94, 100, 128, 133 Simon the Sorcerer, 110, 112 Simplikios, 33, 35, 36, 38, 45, 48, 53, 129 Socrates, 63, 148 Stephanos of Alexandria, 128, 133 Stobaeos, 148, 149 Stoics, 7, 34–36, 89 Suger of St.-Denis, 30

INDEX

Symeon Eulabes, 120 Symeon Metaphrastes, 210 Symeon the Theologian, 80, 116, 119, 120, 122, 126 Synesios, 169, 170 Syracuse, 109 Syrianos, 15, 64, 139, 156, 157 Theodora, 222 Theodora Raoulaina, 224 Theodore the Footsoldier (saint), 119 Theodoros Dexios, 212, 216, 217, 219 Theodoros Graptos, 208–210, 214– 218, 220–222, 224–226, see also Ps.-Theodoros Graptos Theodoros Metochites, 33, 34

 Theodoros Studites, 11, 82, 87, 101, 113, 117, 118, 120, 124, 125, 200, 205 Theophanes, 209 Theophanes Graptos, 224–226 Theophanes of Caesarea, 208 Theophano, 225 Theophilos, 200, 208, 220, 224, 225 Theotokos, 80, 121, see also Mary Thomas Aquinas, 141, 213 Tibet, 149 Tibetans, 173 Titans, 71 Trullo, 86, 99 Valentinians, 49 William of Moerbeke, 90 Zeus, 4, 5, 66, 67, 69–71 Zeus II, 67