When Lady Philosophy suggests that Boethius’ definition of himself as a rational mortal animal is inadequate, it implies that a superior self-understanding is contained within the Consolation. This chapter argues that this more adequate self-understanding – that Boethius, via participation in God, is himself divine – is implicit in the text and unpacks the profound implications and consolations of this interpretation of the self. Being a rational animal is more than being this specific living thing; it is also an opportunity to manifest divine intelligibility and goodness in the world. The chapter focuses on two perplexing arguments in Book IV that are unsatisfying without this interpretation of Boethius’ identity: that the punished are happier than those who escape punishment and that it is possible to attach ourselves to Providence and escape from Fate. The difficulties that most people will face in accepting these arguments are the direct result of the challenge of adopting this self-interpretation.

Boethius’ initial question in the Consolation of Philosophy is why God, who orders the natural universe beautifully, would allow human affairs to proceed in a chaotic fashion, even permitting the wicked to trample on the virtuous and go unpunished. Lady Philosophy responds that God governs everything well. What seem to limited human beings to be misfortunes can all be turned to good. This introduces the importance of human free will and a perennial question for Christian philosophers: If God foreknows future choices, can they be free? Human foreknowledge is a sign that the foreknown event does not happen voluntarily. God, being eternal, sees all time as present, and so divine foreknowledge does not impose or indicate any necessity that would conflict with free will. Boethius concludes by expressing theist compatibilism: Even free choices fall under the absolute sovereignty of God.

There is a difference between being a philosopher and mastering the technical aspects of philosophy. The technician is at home with axioms and abstract problems. Although the philosopher can weave his way through apparently pathless conundra, the conundra are not the philosopher’s home; his home is reality: the τὸ τί ἐστι (being of things) that tend toward ὁ ἀγαθός (the good) and ἡ ἀλήθεια (the truth). When Boethius was unjustly condemned to death, he was a blind man when it came to reality: despite his technical prowess, he was stumped by the problem of evil. The Consolatio is an account of the ascent of the mind of a technician imprisoned by the painful experience of injustice to the mind of the philosopher who can see Providence at work in creation.

This chapter demonstrates that the doctrines contained in the Consolatio philosophiae unite and reconcile, in an elegant and balanced way, pagan Platonist philosophy and Christian faith. The most fertile ground for verifying this thesis is the third book of the Consolatio, with its Timaeus-inspired O qui perpetua hymn (III.m9), its talk of deification (III.10.24–5), its biblical paraphrase of Wisdom 8:1 (III.12.22), and its account of God understood in terms of happiness, goodness, and unity. As Boethius tells us in his second commentary on Aristotle’s On Interpretation (80.1–6), he thought that the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle were, if properly interpreted, complementary expressions of one truth. I argue that Boethius took a similar view regarding pagan Platonist philosophy and Christianity: although on the surface there might be some disagreement, both can be harmonized in such a way as to offer complementary expressions of the one truth. The pagan and Christian references in Book III support the conclusion that the Consolation enacts a harmonization of pagan Platonist philosophy and Christianity without distorting either.

Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy, a philosophical dialogue in the “prosimetric” or mixed form (prose and poetry), has attracted broad literary and philosophical readerships in both the Latin West and Greek East from the ninth century on. The two readerships, however, have not regularly overlapped or engaged with one another in their respective efforts to interpret the work. The purposes of this study are to enable a more informed appreciation of the philosophical implications of its more “literary” books (I–II) and the literary significance of its more transparently philosophical ones (III–V), and to bring its overall architecture into clearer focus. To these ends, a case is made at the outset for the complete state of the transmitted text of the work.

Reading the Consolatio, it is possible to come away with the impression that the consolation Boethius sought while imprisoned was provided by philosophy as opposed to Christian faith. This impression has led some to doubt Boethius’ commitment to Christianity. The idea that there is a tension between Boethius’ Christianity and philosophy is not new, although scholarly disagreement over its significance has increased over the past hundred years. This chapter reviews the history of the debate concerning Boethius’ Christianity in the Consolatio and argues that the problem of Boethius’ faith must be formulated not in terms of an opposition between Christianity and Greco-Roman philosophy, but as a particular feature of sixth-century Latin Christianity.

The Consolation presents two especially puzzling features that make its exegesis particularly challenging. Literarily, it adopts an uncommon style for a philosophical text, the prosimetrum, which combines prose with poetry. Content-wise, it develops a cogent philosophical message that, perplexingly, is conveyed in a labyrinthine way. These exegetical difficulties disappear if we interpret the Consolation as a form of self-examination grounded in Neoplatonic philosophy. The meandering way in which the text expresses its message illustrates Boethius’ inner conflict brought about by his sudden political fall. The root cause of his conflict is an unresolved tension within the Neoplatonic account of the human soul: the difficulty of reconciling our material self with our divine self. The Consolation’s highly unusual combination of prose and poetry is steeped in some of the basic principles of Neoplatonic pedagogy.

Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy promises an existential consolation that results from a philosophical insight. But what exactly does this consolation consist in and what is the insight that provides it? This chapter argues that Boethius’ philosophical consolation arises from an insight into the highest principle (principium) of practical knowledge: God conceived of as the highest good (summum bonum). For Boethius, the cognition of this principle also leads to an insight into a comprehensive cosmic order, ruled by God as the highest good, against the background of which even painful experiences, such as those of the first-person narrator of the Consolation, can be reassessed. Given that Boethius’ notion of consolation is embedded in the context of the Greco–Roman philosophical tradition, this chapter considers the metaphysical underpinnings of Boethius’ practical philosophy in light of his main philosophical predecessors: Plato, Aristotle, the Neoplatonists, and Augustine.

While it is common to compare Boethius’ philosophy with that of his intellectual predecessors and heirs, as far as I know there are no studies comparing Boethius and his most well-known Greek contemporary, Dionysius the Areopagite. Yet both were Christians who were inspired by Plato and deeply influenced by Proclean Neoplatonism. This chapter begins to fill this lacuna in the literature by comparing the way that Boethius in the Consolation of Philosophy and Dionysius in On Divine Names employ key Neoplatonic ideas and metaphors in speaking and thinking about God’s nature and providence. The chapter compares how Boethius and Dionysius employ Neoplatonic sphere and circle metaphors (1) to illustrate how God is both completely simple and yet also has, or rather is, a multiplicity of “attributes” or activities, and (2) to articulate the relationship between God and creatures in terms of remaining, proceeding, and reverting.

Boethius, like his Neoplatonic predecessors, poses a challenge to contemporary readers of the Consolation seeking to understand the world he thinks we occupy. That world involves a timeless, simple, but all-knowing creator god and a time-bound, infinite creation that is patterned from the ideas in the divine mind. The purpose of this chapter is to provide a modest illumination into the world as it is conceived in the Consolation by examining two fundamental Boethian categories and their relationship: the eternal and the temporal. The chapter examines the extent to which we should see these categories providing guidance as to the nature of beings rather than expressing the epistemic perspectives those beings have. By noting the limits, we will draw conclusions about the persistence of temporal beings; the ontological status possessed by future, present, and past states of affairs; and what characterizes eternal existence.

Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy was one of the most influential texts in medieval Europe. Yet it does not receive enough attention in contemporary scholarship on medieval philosophy. This is in part explained by the content and literary form of the Consolation. The direct influence of Plato and late antique Neoplatonism, the dialogue form, the alternating prose and poetry sections, and the wealth of references to classical literature and mythology contrast sharply with the sort of texts most contemporary scholars of medieval philosophy focus on. The essays in this volume tackle these interpretive challenges and reveal some of the rich philosophical insights the Consolation offers. Chapters 1–3 directly address its literary features and their philosophical significance. Chapters 4 and 5 consider the relationship between the Consolation and Boethius’ Christianity. Chapters 6–8 offer three different takes on the philosophy of selfhood, or philosophical anthropology, so central to the Consolation. Chapters 9–13 deal with the more standard metaphysical and theological issues, such as Boethius’ accounts of goodness, being, God, time, eternity, and human freedom.

Recognition of Boethius’ Philosophia as allegorical personification is critical for understanding the positive portrayal given her in the Consolatio. It explains the elaborate identifying markers given in metaphorical reference to the lady as nurse, physician, and teacher. It also helps to explain her ontological status as a source of inspiration for “the prisoner.” This chapter notes her pedagogical strategy in consolation for a patient and compassionate approach, demonstrating feminine qualities that effectively balance the rigorous argument by which she finally moves the prisoner from despair to renewed hope and dignity.

The Consolation defends many claims about human nature and personhood, and depicts an exemplary human person, Boethius the character. This chapter synthesizes the book’s often puzzling and apparently divergent claims, while illustrating them with the depiction of the character of Boethius. It begins by outlining Boethius’ account of human powers and human nature, and then considers the Consolation’s account of human personhood. While Boethius’ account of personhood in the Consolation lacks the technical precision found in his Trinitarian works, he does give an account of some fundamental characteristics of persons consonant with his more explicit treatment in other texts. Finally, the chapter considers three distinctive themes in the Consolation’s account of human persons. First, this text controversially depicts human nature as able to change into that of a god or of a beast. Second, the Consolation depicts all human persons as microcosms, including within ourselves all aspects of the cosmos. Third, Boethius, like many classical writers, depicts human persons as most understandable in relation to beauty. Since this theme sums up earlier ones, the chapter closes there.

Jocelin of Brakelond was a monk at Bury St Edmunds monastery at the time of the famous Abbot Samson, whose election and abbacy Jocelin describes. Jocelin writes his account of the monastery in a Latin that contains references to both the Bible and classical writers, as well as words drawn from Greek, or based on contemporary French and English.

This chapter investigates Boethius’ approach to the division of the sciences and his understanding of their relationship to philosophy as a whole. The questions are raised as to whether certain differences in approach discernible in texts spanning roughly two decades indicate development in his thinking, and whether his formal articulation of a quadrivium of mathematical sciences as subsidiary branches of philosophy implies or is intended to leave room for a trivium of linguistic arts. Finally, brief consideration is given to Cassiodorus’ understanding of the seven liberal arts vis-à-vis the Boethian taxonomy of philosophy, and its implications for instructional practice at Vivarium.

The Consolatio philosophiae of the Roman statesman and philosopher Boethius (fifth/sixth century) was read and studied intensely in medieval western Europe and repeatedly translated into vernacular languages. Medieval commentaries on this text and translations of it claim attention today as case studies in a history of reading, for they exemplify the practices of medieval literary scholasticism. In an English context, the final flowering of this reading tradition may be placed in the year 1556, when John Cawoode printed a new translation of the Consolatio by a ‘George Coluile, alias Coldewel’. The translator remains unidentified. The translation is a medieval throwback in its treatment of Boethius’s text. Whereas subsequent English translators of the Consolatio separate text from commentary, Colvile permitted these categories to interpenetrate. He transmitted a wealth of exegetical material traceable to a commentary on the Consolatio attributed falsely to Thomas Aquinas. Pseudo-Thomas’s commentary and Boethius’s Consolatio were often printed together after their editio princeps in 1473. Colvile probably worked from a book printed in Lyon between 1486 and 1498.