The Order of Being

“As [he] walks through the valley of the shadow of death,” Boethius looks not only to the heavens, but to the consolation of Lady Philosophy. Anicus Manlius Severinus Boethius, born into a Roman aristocratic family shortly after the fall of the Roman Empire in the West composed the De Consolatione Philosophiae in the 6^th century AD while awaiting death under torture for the crime of treason. In his treatise, Boethius seeks comfort in the end of life with the tenets of Greek philosophy, to come to terms with a Universe that was about to come down on him. The treatise is a complete dialogue, between himself and the Lady Philosophy, structured into five books, each with its own chapters. The last chapter of Book III is one of the most striking passages of the discourse; in it, Boethius details, through rhetoric elements of diction, syntax and structure, the book’s principle theme of the natural order of the Universe.

Although Boethius often comes out and says exactly what he means thematically, it is clear that the diction of the dialogue was carefully chosen to elicit the theme of “the highest good” (67). The diction of that theme itself seems to sound awkward, but actually carefully compares spiritual height with virtue. That comparison is made repeatedly throughout the book, and is the pivot upon which, Boethius argues, the order of the Universe turns. “The highest good” is God, commanding power over all things in a way that cannot be obstructed, divided or corrupted; “The form of the divine substance is such that it is not diffused into things outside itself, nor does it admit anything itself from outside” (68). In describing this “highest good”, Boethius writes, “and so evil is a nothing, for there is nothing he cannot do, but he cannot commit evil” (68). By describing evil as “a nothing”, Boethius makes it sound like a void in nature – which is exactly his theme through the book as he talks about the wretched plight of those non-humans that are so debased from nature they no longer exist in a practical sense.

The other plight Boethius speaks of is that of the common man. In this passage as well as the book, Boethius consistently stresses the supremacy of the order of the Universe over the understanding of the common man, and that lack of understanding is emphatically stressed through syntax. The two protagonists, Boethius and Lady Philosophy are thoroughly engaged in discussion, but through the syntax, it is obvious who is in control and who is thirstily seeking answers. Lady Philosophy is explaining a natural order that has been superimposed upon a soul that is looking for a reason for an explanation of his plight. To show this, Lady Philosophy’s discourses are lengthy, her sentences are elaborate and poetic; Boethius, on the other hand, has a series of sentences that went as follows: “We did indeed” (66), “Inevitably so” (66), “That is undeniable” (66), “So I recall” (66), “I emphatically agree” (67). That string of quick-and-easy acceptance is dominant throughout the book, and partly displays man’s nature to accept the readiest answer that will explain the unexplainable, as long as it provides some token comfort that a final line of order is indeed being followed to its end.

Boethius uses his external structure much like that final line of order, proceeding steadfastly through its arguments to a final goal. He also uses the infrastructure of the passage as a tool to convey his arguments and embrace that natural order. By subdividing the treatise into books and chapters, Boethius introduced a systematic approach to a careful and concise series of arguments – he says that unity is essential to the highest good, and he unites his books with that single, progressive line of thought. Speaking of the Universe, he says, “it could never have merged into a unified pattern if one individual had not joined the diverse parts together” (66). Therefore, his description of the Universe is parallel to his structuring of the entire treatise. Internally, his structure is a mode of part prose and part verse. Even more subdivided is the part prose, in which he writes as a devil’s advocate, playing off and responding to his own fears and laments. This infrastructure is critical to his theme and title; the world’s final order, through Providence and Fate, may be so seemingly unfair at times that the only consolation for this cruel human condition is the consolation of Lady Philosophy’s sweet song to his mortal soul – both in the excruciating logic of her prose and the stunning beauty of her verse. Indeed, the first stanza of her verse in this passage is essentially the nutshell of the themes of the passage and the treatise:

‘How blest is he who could discern

The bright source of the good,

How blest, for he could slip the chains

Of earth, which weigh men down!’ (69)

Using only dialogue, but flowing fluidly and rhetorically, Boethius found consolation for his plight with a natural order that existed upon the “highest good”, despite its seemingly fleeting comprehensibility. Written over a thousand years ago and under unimaginable conditions, Boethius’ discourse raises questions, and answers, about the human condition and the frailty or strength of the universe that we exist in. It is a powerful argument for seeing the nature behind every action; as Lady Philosophy muses, “It is hardly surprising…that people regard events as random and chaotic if they are unaware of the planned order of the world” (86).