Why Cumontian Mithras studies are dead

Like most people online, I first encountered references to Mithras in the kind of rather crude atheist polemic that goes, “Jesus is really Mithras! Har har!”.  A correspondent has written to me about this, and it turns out that he has been reading into the scholarly literature as I have.  An interesting paper by a late Cumontian, Geo Widengren, Reflections on the origin of the Mithraic mysteries, has come my way, and I spent some time yesterday reading this.

It’s becoming clear to me why the old Cumontian view has dropped out of favour.  It is, simply, insufficiently rigorous in its analysis and classification of sources.  Widengren mixes together a stew of references and sources, consisting of snippets of ancient texts, bits of Iranian literature, and even interviews with Caucasian peasants in the present day, in order to tell a narrative story.  But the weakness of this approach is evident — the story does not arise from a careful analysis of the data, but instead the data is stuck onto the story.

Widengren’s paper is quite interesting, but he is handicapped by this eclectic approach that all the Cumontians take.  It is, simply, confused and confusing, and dreadfully unsystematic.  I learn from it that the first query about the Cumontian approach, and the proposal for separation, came from a volume by S. Wikander, Etudes sur les mysteres de Mithras, I, Lund, 1951.  His theory involved a proposal that Mithres and Mithras were distinct deities, labelled as such in the sources, one Roman and one Iranian.  Widengren correctly indicates that the manuscripts do not support this, and indeed we would not expect it.  But it provoked thought, it seems.  It is, after all, much easier to analyse the material once you split it down into distinct areas, Iranian Mithra and Roman Mithras, and treat them as distinct but possibly related.  Then you can discuss with some precision all the material and the links.   This is not possible under the Cumontian approach.

It is still possible that Roman Mithras was derived somehow from Persian Mitra.  But I can see that there will be no going back to the rambling style of Cumont.  The way forward must be with fewer generalisations, and much more care and precision.

Share

Eusebius update

Now that the Eusebius book is ‘live’, and selling reasonably well, the question of errata arises.  That’s right — errors that we didn’t spot during development.

There are also things that we should have done and did not.  We could have done with more cross-referencing between the Coptic materials and the rest, for instance.

In addition there is a modest amount of material which was created during the project, but which did not make the final cut. 

I’m thinking here particularly of a couple of items associated with the Coptic fragments.  These fragments, published for the first time, came from the Coptic gospel catena published (without translation) by Paul de Lagarde.  The introduction to De Lagarde’s edition was about three pages, all in Latin.  I was under the impression that Latin might be a problem for the Coptic translators, so I had this translated into English and sent over.  It didn’t seem that appropriate to include in the book; but it might be useful generally.

Likewise the Coptic team translated a catena fragment by Chrysostom, which they felt was important to have in order to understand the sense.  I, in an unfamiliar role as ruthless editor, cut it out.  But it exists.

There won’t be a second edition of the book: sales don’t justify it.  But there is a place for a collection of errata and supplementa, I think.

So I’ve started a page on this blog to contain this sort of material, and I shall add stuff to it as and when it comes in.  The page is here, and, if you spot errors in the book, please feel free to add a comment to this effect at the bottom of the page.

There’s not really any supplementa there yet.  I shall have to dig it out, and polish it up!  This will probably be during November when I hope to get a bit of free time.

Share

Easily the most inaccurate statement about Mithras I have ever seen

Mithras, the subterranean sun, must be the most unfortunate of ancient deities.  There is so much twaddle talked online.  A correspondent today drew my attention to what must easily be the most ignorant statement about him that I have ever seen.  And there is considerable competition for that title, you know!  As usual, it is delivered with an utter certainty that Torquemada himself might have considered just a bit too fanatical.

The commenter here gives us the usual spiel about how he/she was brought up to be a Christian, and “studied” other religions.

In coming across zoroastrianism I was therefore stunned. Mithra, the son of the god Zoroastra, was born of a virgin on December 25th in a field surrounded by shepherds. After a 40 day period called Estra he died and was entombed, after which he rose on the third day. Ceremonies recalling this event used a rock to represent the man-god, and priests would eat bread and drink wine. It is no exaggeration or hyperbole to say this was the most horrifying realization of my life. This pulled all the certainty of my life out from under me.

After which we get the usual circumlocutions for “I decided to adopt the values of the age I happen to live in, instead of those of my parents.”  Such mindless conformity is unlikely to end well, of course.

But I must say I was fascinated.  I mean, how can you “study” Zoroastrianism and not know who Zoroaster was?  And plainly the poster does not!

What I’d really like to know, tho, is the source of this nonsense.  Someone, somewhere, must have come up with this.  Does anyone know who?

Share

From my diary

I decided that I’d better upgrade the blog software — WordPress — to the latest version.  You worry, if you don’t, about security.  Just done the deed from 2.9, and we’re now on 3.2.1.  I don’t really think the new look and feel is an improvement, in truth, but if you use someone else’s free software, you get what you’re given.[1] 

Expect a certain degree of instability this afternoon!

UPDATE: A note to WordPress users: DO NOT INSTALL JETPACK!  It will lose you your stats.  When you revert, and try to use your old WP-STATS, it seems to work; but when you try to look at your stats you get “Your WordPress.com account, xxxxxxx is not authorized to view the stats of this blog.” 

Blast the wretches!

Share
  1. [1]A footnote to check that footnotes are still working.

From my diary

I am just plodding along OCR-ing Ibn Abi Usaibia.  I was doing a few pages just now after lunch, and I saw page number 254 at the foot of a page that I had just completed.  So I must be approximately a quarter of the way through.  A long way to go yet, of course.

An order for three signed copies of my Eusebius: Gospel Problems and Solutions has come in, which I am dealing with, and is very welcome, of course.

Nearly all the sales of the book are through Amazon, and I don’t have any stock on my floor (thank goodness).  But I bought a box of 20 copies to take to the Oxford Patristics Conference back in August, and never unpacked them even.  However it seems that you don’t get that many sales as such at conferences, and I brought nearly all of them back, still in the box.  This was a bit depressing, but orders direct to me are currently being fulfilled from that box.  It’s interesting watching the box of copies of the paperback get steadily emptier! It’s a salutary reminder that the sales are likely to be constant rather than exciting.

The book seems to be well received by those who have seen it, and the professional reviews will be interesting to see as well. 

The British Library demanded a free copy under the law in the UK which requires copies to be sent to the copyright libraries on request.  Recently the other five decided they wanted free copies too, drat them. 

Share

As the evenings draw in and the mornings grow frosty…

Every year, I look forward to a couple of things as the evenings draw in, and the mornings begin with frost in the air.

The first of these is that, mysteriously, men appear in the town square on Saturday mornings who sell roast chestnuts.

Admittedly in my own town, they don’t bother to get set up much before noon, so I rarely get to have any.  I’ve been and gone by then!

The best street vendors are in London, where the quick turnover means that all the chestnuts are well-cooked.

But still, it’s something I look forward to.  What childhood memory they evoke I cannot say, but clearly there is something.

You can’t eat too many — they contain something poisonous, I believe. 

But nevertheless, the charcoaled items will be consumed by me this winter, if at all possible.

The other items to which I look forward are also seasonal.  I will welcome the arrival of the new season’s brussell sprouts.  You have to cook these rather exactly — 8 of them, in boiling water for precisely 8 minutes and not as second longer — but they taste good when fresh.  When I had Christmas alone, as I did for a couple of years recently, they formed part of the seasonal meal.

The shorter days do tend to leave us all feeling a bit strange, and a bit jet-lagged.  It can be a sad time too, for those sensitive enough to feel the change of season but not perceptive enough to realise the source of their moods.  But there are good things to be had, and we need to try to enjoy them.

Share

From my diary

Today I sent off 50 copies of the leaflet promoting the Eusebius book to someone who can make use of them at a conference next week.  I also heard from the translator of the Coptic section of the book, who has some suggestions for improvements.  This will probably become a list of errata — although in fact they’re not errors as such.  I’ll probably host the list here.

An email arrived yesterday with a draft translation of the portion of John the Lydian’s On the Roman Months IV which deals with November.  I responded with my (few) comments — it was really rather super, and excellently footnoted, as you will doubtless see in due course.

I’m still working on digitising the English translation of Ibn Abi Usaibia.  The photographs that I have were done in stages, at somewhat different resolutions and so on.  I’ve just moved into a chunk of 300+ photos.  That’s rather daunting to start in on, when you can only do a few pages an evening.  I spent some time last night peeling off the first 40, and then the next 40 pages into separate FineReader projects, so I could work on the pages in that form.  You get a feeling of achievement when you finish a “project”, and 40 pages is not nearly so oppressive as 350!  When I’m at home, and can spend hours and hours on proofing, of course, it’s different.  In the end it’s all about ways to keep your motivation going. 

This evening I OCR’d some stuff about early Islamic physicians.  It consists mainly of gossipy stories of the various people.  It was all very well to be the favourite physician of Haroun al-Rashid, the Caliph of the Arabian nights; but when the latter fell into his fatal illness, his favourite physician soon ended up observing events from a dungeon!  Those who live by the favour of a capricious oriental despot have no security of property, nor life.

Share

Ibn Abi Usaibia in French in the Journal Asiatique

A correspondent has written and let me know that French translations exist of chunks of Ibn Abi Usaibia’s History of Physicians.  They were done by Sanguinetti in the Journal Asiatique, with the chunks starting in 1854.  I’ve seen five bits so far.  The first chunk is here (1854, series 5, tome 3, p.230 f.), and includes a useful biography of Ibn Abi Usaibia.  The second part is here (1854, series 5, tome 4, p.177 f.), mostly from the second chapter of the book, about Asculapius.   The third part is here (1855, series 5, tome 5, p.401 f.), extracts from chapter 7.  Unfortunately the BNF does not have 1855 series 5, tome 6 online, which must contain the fourth part — tome 7 does not contain it. [Update: it’s here at Google books, p.129]  The fifth part is here (1856, series 5, tome 8, p.175 f.), extracts from chapter 4 (Hippocrates).

That seems to be all, as the next tome (9) contains an article also by Sanguinetti, on p.392, headed Biographical notices of various physicians, taken from an Arabic work by Assafedy: French translation with notes.

All this material is useful to have.   I thought that I would translate chunks of Sanguinetti’s introduction, which also includes a biography of Ibn Abi Usaibia.  Note that I have not attempted to change his transcription of Arabic names from the older French style into those used today.

The purpose that I had in view, in the present work, is to contribute to make known a work whose complete publication would render much service to all those who are busy with the history of sciences in general, and particularly to those who study the history of medicine and philosophy.  The fragment that follows is composed of the preface of the Arab author, then the first chapter of the work, which deals with the origin of medicine.  In his introduction Ibn Abi Usaibia develops the subjects which he intends to include in his book.  He then indicates the plan and mentions the content. I will refrain from dwelling on these different points.  The manner in which the author treats the difficult subject of the origin of medicine seems to me more complete than that of authors who preceded him; … in the citations which the author makes from earlier works, from the beginning of his work on, he makes known to us passages of books which are lost to us, and may, perhaps, sometimes help us to look for them.  …

In order to carry out this work, I had on my desk three manuscripts of Ibn Abi Usaibia, belonging to the Bibliotheque Imperiale, one of which is merely an abridgement of the complete work:

1.  No. 674 of the Supplement arabe, drawn up by Reinaud, quarto manuscript, 150 folios, but incomplete and only containing the first 8 chapters.  It is in very good condition, containing here and there marginal glosses which are sometimes interesting, and is, in my opinion, the best of all the manuscripts of this work in the Bibliotheque imperiale.  This in particular allowed me to establish the text of the extract I give here.  Part of this text is in rhymed prose, and is far from easy, and is ready for printing.  I think that reading and studying it would offer more than one kind of interest and utility, and I would hope that a favourable occasion will present itself to publish it.

2.  No. 756, ancient fonds arabe; it is likewise in quarto, is composed of 138 folios, and also contains only the first 8 chapters.  This ms. is somewhat mediocre, and certainly not as good as the preceding one.

3.  No. 873, ancient fonds arabe: this is a small volume, small quarto, of 111 folios, and is an abridgement of the whole work.  Its condition would be very good, but unfortunately it has so suffered from damp and from other causes that it is often illegible.

Finally, as may be seen below, I also made use of the manuscript of this work which is in the Bibliotheque imperiale, Supplement arabe 673, and which is the only one that is complete.  This is a folio volume, of 273 folios, modern and mediocre.

I cannot avoid saying something about the Arab author and his works.  Some details on this may be found in the work of Abou’l mahacin, under the year 668 AH, at the end [1], in Hadji Khalfah[2], Reiske [3], Wustenfeld [4], etc, but particularly in the last two chapters of Ibn Abi Usaibia’s own work, where the author speaks several times about his family and himself[5].  I will content myself with giving, in summary, a small number of the most important facts.

The name of our author was Mouwaffik eddin Abou’l’abbas Ahmed, son of Abou’lkacim, son of Khalifah Alkhazradjy [6], but he is better known under the name of Ibn Abi Usaibia.  He was born at Damascus, late in the year 600 AH (1203 AD) and he learned medicine from his uncle Rachid eddin ‘Ali, son of Khalifah, practitioner of medicine and director of the hospital at Damascus for eye problems.  He also studied under his father, who was above all a surgeon and oculist.  His teacher of philosophy was the jurisconsult and philosopher Radhy eddin Aldjily (i.e. of Ghilan).  He had connections with Ibn Albaithar, who gave him some lessons on botany, with ‘Abdallathif and others among his famous contemporaries.  In the year 634 AH (1236-7 AD)  Ibn Abi Osaibia went to Cairo, where he practiced medicine, and was even employed in a hospital.  About a year later he went to Sarkhad, in Syria, and entered the service of the commandant ‘Izz eddin Aidemir, son of Abdallah, whose first doctor he became.  He died in the month of djoumada I, in the year 668 AD (January 1270 AD).  He was then almost a septugenarian, and indeed older than that according to Abou’l mahacin.

The principal work of Ibn Abi Usaibia is, without question, his History of physicians, as the real title indicates: “Sources of information on the subject of the classes of physicians”[1], and which was regarded as a classic in its genre.  He also left another book of practical medicine, entitled “Useful experiences and observations” [2].  He also had begun a third work, which he did not finish, but which he intended to call “Monuments of the nations and histories of the wise” [3]  Finally Ibn Abi Usaibia was the author of various pieces of verse, one of which, among many, was  the eulogy of the emir Amin Addaoulah, and Abou’; mahacin gives a fragment of this.

Share
  1. [1]BNF, ancien fonds arabe, 661, f. 219 r and v.
  2. [2]From BNF ms. ancien fonds arabe 875.
  3. [3]Opuscula medica ex monumentis Arabum et Hebraeorum, Grunier, p.55-6.
  4. [4]Geschichte der arabischen Aertze und Naturforscher, p.132.
  5. [5]See, among others, the biography of Ibn Albaithar, that of Abdallail, and notably the biography of his uncle Rachid eddin ‘Aly.
  6. [6]And therefore belonged to the tribe of the Khazradj.

JTS charging far too much?

From the ABTABL list I learn that the Journal of Theological Studies this year is demanding £277.80 for two issues.  This seems rather excessive.  In consequence smaller libraries are now considering cancelling their subscription.

In the pre-internet days, the academic journal was the only sensible means to disseminate research.  Containing a range of articles written by academics, and edited by one or more academics — all these paid by the taxpayer — the journal article was the only practicable way to circulate this material.  The issues were bought almost exclusively by major libraries at universities — also tax funded.  The publisher made a profit, of course, but also provided a necessary service.  This was, in truth, the only way to circulate the material.

But today?  Just why do we need the publisher?  Surely the articles could be disseminated in PDF form by the editors, and printed (by those libraries that need them) using services like Lulu?  Most academics would probably rather have the articles in JSTOR anyway.

Well we all know why that won’t happen — because everyone is used to the current system.  There is tremendous inertia in the system.  Libraries might feel that they serve no purposes, without rows of bound volumes.  Academics will feel that PDF publication is less real, and might be less useful in the key and necessary role of establishing or maintaining their reputation as professional academics.

The current situation seems to be in no-one’s interest, other than a handful of publishers.  It isn’t in the interest of academics to restrict the circulation of their work!  It isn’t in the interest of the poor bloody taxpayer to have what he pays for made inaccessible.

In a way, I welcome the new, very high charges.  I can hear a sound in the distance, indeed. 

It is the sound of a monopolist sawing off the branch he is sitting on.

Share

Some notes on blogging

From time to time all of us who upload content to the web get to wondering what we’re doing and whether it’s worth it.  This happens, even if you don’t have someone spitting insults at you — it’s a normal part of human nature. 

This was brought on by a question asked at eChurch blog, Does anybody else ever go through a blogging crisis of confidence?

For me it always starts with ‘blogging block’; I just don’t seem to be able to find anything worth blogging about, and I’m never sure if this is because there is nothing interesting to blog about; or whether it’s more reflective of my state of mind.

Then comes a crisis in confidence. Everybody else seems so damn smart and knowledgeable on any given subject; that I feel like a know-nothing fraud.

I thought that I’d offer some thoughts on this (rather inward-looking) subject. 

I myself have found blogging a bit difficult lately, but I also know why.  My current job takes a lot out of me, and I’m also very busy with some other necessary but boring business which leaves me very little time to think about anything else.

Each of us, when we blog, or write articles online, draws upon what we are currently thinking about.  But most people can only do this for a while before they need to replenish the “reservoir”.  Otherwise, we grow “cruel dry”, as Addison did when writing the Spectator.  It’s natural, and of no other significance.  When we can’t write, it means only that we need to read, that we need to browse, to refill ourselves.  Your cup can only overflow if it is full!  This applies, even to those uploading material by others.  If we just haven’t the time to do this, it will be difficult to blog.

But sometimes we all just don’t feel that original.  In such circumstances, I think it is important to have a few volumes of miscellaneous literature that we can plunder for quotations or witty material.  Regular readers will have observed that I often post from Paley’s collection of Greek Wit.  When I was reading Aulus Gellius — itself a work of precisely this kind — I posted extracts from that.  Martial’s epigrams are short and there’s usually something to say.  I think that a supply of such works, which are easy to read as well as to quote from, is a useful help.  Of course the works must not be works which are in everyone’s hands.

The other question raised is about how valuable what we do is.  How useful, in a way, is this very post, except perhaps to other bloggers and website maintainers?  Am I writing something that anyone will wish to read, even six months hence?

I confess that I don’t really care.

That may seem harsh, but really, just imagine what would happen if I worried about what I write everytime I uploaded something, every time I blogged?  I’d soon cease to do anything at all.  Human nature is what it is, and it is a mistake to over-analyse these things.  From time to time I look at the blog stats, which continue to rise, and that’s as much as I need.  Indeed I don’t even care about that.

Commenters can be a danger, in this respect.  On this blog everyone is nice, and the nature of the subject is that the online thug is a rare visitor.  But current affairs blogs, by their very nature, attract aggressive disagreement.  This can wear down the blogger.  Indeed I have seen “comments” elsewhere which were plainly intended for no other purpose, a form of soft-intimidation. 

My own response to any comment that annoys me is brutal — I delete it.  This blog isn’t a public forum, but rather my diary online, in which people of goodwill are welcome to share, and add notes in the margin.  This disposes of such people.  It’s really important to retain control of one’s own blog, and not be intimidated by specious cries of “censorship” — often made by people who themselves won’t allow any disagreement.  As my experience in Wikipedia early this year showed me, there is no lack of criminals online who write solely to silence others, and wreck their work, and care nothing for the public weal. 

Doubtless one day I shall cease to blog.  This journal of what I am doing and thinking about will fall silent.  So do we all. One day I shall die.  One day the moon will fall and the sun grow cold.  We all know this: but we do not act upon this knowledge, for to do so is to become less than human, and to worry ourselves silly.  We must write as if we will live forever, and as if we will live forever, and as if surrounded by friends.

But in the mean time I have a few objectives: firstly, to enjoy what I do, and secondly to share that with the like-minded. 

Share