CSS

Showing posts with label Notes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Notes. Show all posts

Thursday, December 5, 2024

On "Priviliged Positions" in a Zettelkasten

Luhmann writes in his Communications with Zettelkastens:

Knowledge theory has given up the assumption of “privileged concepts” that function as axiomatic foundations to control the logical value of other concepts or propositions. Similarly, you must give up the assumption that there are privileged places, notes of special and knowledge-ensuring quality.

Luhmann cites Richard Rorty's Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature as an example of philosophers abandoning "priviliged concepts". What does this even mean?

Rorty on "Priviliged Concepts"

If we peruse Rorty's book, we find he is attacking Plato's analysis of knowledge as "true, justified belief".

What does Plato mean by this? Well, suppose I have a coin which has one side say "yes" and the other side say "no". I ask a question, flip this coin, and it will always answer truthfully.

Do I gain knowledge by using my magic coin? Plato says no, because the process is entirely unjustifiable. Rorty attacks Plato's idea of justification as ambiguous and vague (and Rorty does make a few good points).

Why does it matter? Well, Neoplatonists believed we could figure out some set of axioms, and then deduce everything in the world. If only we could determine those axioms! But these axioms would have some privilged position, from which all truth flowed. This is, more or less, what Aristotle argued in his Metaphysics book Gamma, Posterior Analytics on the problem of regression, etc.

Rorty takes a nuanced position, which I'm not sure I fully appreciate. I think Rorty argues that we develop some ersatz "first principles" which are tentative (in the sense that we may revise them, under appropriate circumstances). But they are not divine, they are not immutable, they are not universal, they are not innate knowledge. Instead, these "principles" are built out of experience and learning. As we educate ourselves, they become reinforcing or else we amend them.

Analogy with "Position"

Some people have interpreted Luhmann as saying that organizing your Zettels into clusters is bad, and you should just sequentially number them based on position "at the time of incorporation". This fails to appreciate Luhmann's analogy with "privilged concepts" in the analysis of knowledge.

Scott Scheper suggests using a "skeleton" zettelkasten to get started, with some pre-determined slips based off of Wikipedia's outline of knowledge (or some other analogous source). It's curious, because — as Jillian M. Hess observes in her book How Romantics and Victorians Organized Knowledge, page 24 — Melville Dewey began his catalogue system as a remedy to the commonplace method's ambiguity. In other words, Scheper reinvents Dewey's method. This is precisely what Luhmann warns against in his (already cited) essay:

The result of working with this technique for a long time is a kind of second memory, an alter ego with which you can always communicate. It has, similar to our own memory, no pre-planned comprehensive order, no hierarchy, and surely no linear structure like a book. And by that very fact, it is alive independently of its author. The entire note collection can only be described as a mess, but at least it is a mess with a non-arbitrary internal structure.

[Emphasis mine]

Christian Tietze argues the opposite extreme, namely that any use of categories is bad. Instead we should use tags.

When I read 17th and 18th century European philosophy, everyone disagrees with each other because they use the same technical terms but attribute different definitions to them. I mention this because I feel in a similar situation when discussing "tags" versus "categories", and this makes me hesitate to criticize Christian too much — it feels quite likely we are using different terminology for the same concepts.

I think the crucial difference between "tags" and "categories" is that one item may have zero or more tags, but at most one category. In a filing cabinet, I file a piece of paper in exactly one folder, and the analogy would be with one item in a category.

Here I confess I never found tags useful on blogs, and it is even less useful on paper Zettelkasten. I suspect strongly that "register slips" and "the index" are the analogous quantities to "tags", and everyone agrees these are "killer features" to paper Zettelkasten.

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Zettelkastens and Literate Programs

I've been re-reading John Harrison's Handbook of Practical Logic and Automated Reasoning (a wonderful book), with an eye towards writing notes for my Zettelkasten.

What I have done, out of habit, is I've reworked the code in Standard ML (as opposed to OCaml). I've added a "register" (mathematicians would recognize them as "theorem environments" in LaTeX) for source code, and the template for writing such notes on a 5.5 inch by 4.25 inch (A6) slip of paper looks like:

[id number]Code [name of chunk]
[English summary of the code, or the algorithm, or...]
⟨[name of chunk]⟩≡
[Standard ML code here]

Just replace the bracketed italicized text (including the brackets) with your own text. I do write a horizontal line separating the "code block" from the "text block", and underline the "Code" part of the title.

I follow the general heuristics Knuth suggests for literate programming, even using the names of code chunks in angled braces as if they were statements. Following some of the early handwritten documents on Standard ML, I underline keywords like "if", "then", "else", "case", "fun", etc., in the code block.

While reading Harrison's book, I add unit tests, write up examples, etc. This isn't done "in the abstract", I actually type the code up on a computer (e.g., here is my implementation of most of the propositional logic code).

One advantage to this is that we can prove properties about the code snippet in branches off the code zettel. Another advantage, giving a good human-level summary of the code snippet helps greatly with Harrison's book, since the techniques from chapter 3 make another appearance in chapter 6 (i.e., 300 pages later) and I forget some of the nuances surrounding the implementation ("Is skolem called before or after nnf?"), I can just glance at the snippets for guidance.

Another useful aspect of using a Zettelkasten for studying theorem provers is that it facilitates blending notes from multiple books seamlessly. I noticed this accidentally, when I was unsatisfied with Harrison's description of Herbrand universes, then started reading Chang and Lee's Symbolic Logic and Mechanical Theorem Proving (1973) description of Herbrand universes.

There are other aspects of Zettelkasten which seems uniquely suitable for studying theorem provers, but I digress.

I'm experimenting with using a Zettelkasten for literate programming "by hand" more generally, which is a bizarre but fascinating experience, especially when exploring monads in Standard ML.

Anyways, I just wanted to make note of this quirky note-taking system for literate programming.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Puzzles

Recently I've been more interested in puzzles.

Project Euler is the classic example of puzzles which require either higher math or computational skill (or both!).

Facebook has a collection of puzzles too, motivated from the engineering perspective.

But note: Facebook uses these puzzles for hiring people. Plus, the puzzles are not always mathematically oriented.

I suppose a good mathematician should always set up puzzles for themselves. As Socrates remarked:

SOCRATES: Indeed, Lysimachus, I should be very wrong in refusing to aid in the improvement of anybody. And if I had shown in this conversation that I had a knowledge which Nicias and Laches have not, then I admit that you would be right in inviting me to perform this duty; but as we are all in the same perplexity, why should one of us be preferred to another? I certainly think that no one should; and under these circumstances, let me offer you a piece of advice (and this need not go further than ourselves). I maintain, my friends, that every one of us should seek out the best teacher whom he can find, first for ourselves, who are greatly in need of one, and then for the youth, regardless of expense or anything. But I cannot advise that we remain as we are. And if any one laughs at us for going to school at our age, I would quote to them the authority of Homer, who says, that

'Modesty is not good for a needy man.'

Let us then, regardless of what may be said of us, make the education of the youths our own education. (Emphasis added, from Plato's Laches)

For example, I know a little bit about representations of Lie groups and Lie algebras (one can always learn more!)...but what about the representation of the quaternion group induced from the irreducible representations of SU(2)? How does it decompose into irreps? Etc.

Knuth remarked somewhere what helped him understand the representation theory for the symmetric group was writing a program which generated the permutation matrix representations.

I suspect writing a program which does these sorts of computations is a great puzzle for any mathematician that's savvy with programming.

Reading Material

And now, for something completely different.

A few papers I want to read:
When physics helps mathematics: calculation of the sophisticated multiple integral, 13 pages;
Some algebraic properties of differential operators, 15 pages;
Introduction to supergravity, 152 pages;
Fermionic impurities in Chern-Simons-matter theories, 31 pages;
Spinors and Twistors in Loop Gravity and Spin Foams, 16 pages;
Quaternionic Analysis, Representation Theory and Physics, 60 pages.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Notes on "How to Read a Book"

These are just some quick notes from Adler's How to Read a Book (Touchstone, 1972).

Four Levels of Reading

The first level is "Elementary Reading". In mastering this level, one learns the rudiments of the art of reading, receives basic training in reading, and acquires initial reading skills.

The reader is merely concerned with language as it is employed by the writer. At this level of reading, the question asked of the reader is "What does the sentence say?"

The second level of reading is called "Inspectional Reading". Its aim is to get the most out of a book within a given amount of time (e.g., an hour before going to bed).

(I have heard that humans work best at 90 minute time intervals, although I do not know if this is factual or not.)

Inspectional reading is the art of skimming systematically.

Whereas the question that is asked at the first level is "What does the sentence say?" the question typically asked at this level is "What is the book about?" That is a surface question; others of a similar nature are "What is the structure of the book?" or "What are its parts?"

Upon completing an inspectional reading of a book, no matter how short the time you had to do it in, you should also be able to answer the question, "What kind of book is it-a novel, a history, a scientific treatise?"

The third level of reading we will call "Analytical Reading".

The analytical reader must ask many, and organized, questions of what one is reading.

Analytical reading is preeminently for the sake of understanding. Adler claims it isn't needed if one is reading for entertainment, although I disagree with him.

The fourth and highest level of reading we will call "Syntopical Reading".

When reading syntopically, the reader reads many books, not just one, and places them in relation to one another and to a subject about which they all revolve. But mere comparison of texts is not enough. Syntopical reading involves more. With the help of the books read, the syntopical reader is able to construct an analysis of the subject that may not be in any of the books. It is obvious, therefore, that syntopical reading is the most active and effortful kind of reading.

[...] Let it suffice for the moment to say that syntopical reading is not an easy art, and that the rules for it are not widely known. Nevertheless, syntopical reading is probably the most rewarding of all reading activities. The benefits are so great that it is well worth the trouble of learning how to do it.

I think that this is what most (good) mathematicians do when studying a subject.

Also note that each stage is contained in the next higher stage...so elementary reading is contained in inspectional reading; inspectional reading is contained in analytical reading; analytical reading is contained in syntopical reading.

Inspectional Reading

There are two types of inspectional reading that are related to each other. Adler has a list of suggestions on systematic skimming:

  1. Look at the Title page and, if the book has one, at its Preface.
  2. Study the table of contents to help get an idea of the books' structure. Sometimes this helps a lot (e.g. when reading "The Cambridge Medieval History" or any other "Cambridge ______ History"), other times it doesn't help that much. Other books it helps with: Gibbon's Decline and Fall, Karl Marx's Das Kapital, Milton's Paradise Lost.
  3. Check the index to get a gist of the topics covered.
  4. If the book has a jacket, read the publisher's blurb.
  5. Look at the chapters that seem pivotal.
  6. Read a paragraph or two on each page, or perhaps several sequential pages. But not more than that. You are skimming, after all! Every couple of pages, read a couple of paragraphs.

The other aspect to inspectional reading is summed up in this single rule: In tackling a difficult book for the first time, read it through without ever stopping to look up or ponder the things you do not understand right away.

Instead of speed reading, a better idea is that Every book should be read no more slowly than it deserves, and no more quickly than you can read it with satisfaction and comprehension.

Finally, do not try to understand every word or page of a difficult book the first time through. This is the most important rule of all; it is the essence of inspectional reading. Do not be afraid to be, or to seem to be, superficial. Race through even the hardest book. You will then be prepared to read it well the second time.

[...]

[...] The first stage of inspectional reading-the stage we have called systematic skimming-serves to prepare the analytical reader to answer the questions that must be asked during the first stage of that level. Systematic skimming, in other words, anticipates the comprehension of a book's structure.

Active Reading

Adler writes, If your aim in reading is to profit from it-to grow somehow in mind or spirit-you have to keep awake. That means reading as actively as possible.

How do we "actively read"?

Ask questions while you read: questions that you yourself must try to answer in the course of reading. Adler suggests specifically four questions:

  1. What is the book about on the whole?
  2. What is being said in detail, and how? That is, what are the main ideas, assertions, and arguments?
  3. Is the book true, in part or in whole?
  4. So what?

Adler argues that this is the reader's obligation.

Inspectional reading will answer the first two questions, but not the second two. Analytical reading will answer the last two; and the last question is the most important for syntopical reading.

Good books are over your head; they would not be good for you if they were not. After all: no pain, no gain.

So to reiterate, there are three things to look at:

  1. Studying the structure of the work.
  2. Studying the logical propositions made and organized into chains of inference.
  3. Evaluation of the merits of the arguments and conclusions.

Mark up your books!

I do not know if I agree with this practice, but Adler suggests it to become more actively involved in reading: marking up your book in the margins.

Although I must admit I do this when reading technical papers, and at times I have printed out (legally) downloaded chapters from Springer--Verlag books.

Adler provides a list of possible markups:

  1. Underline major points, important statements, etc.
  2. Vertical line in the margins for passages too long to be underlined, or already underlined but really important.
  3. Write a star, asterisk, or other symbol in the margin for really, really important statements. Pretend you can only use 10--12 per book, so make them count!
  4. Write numbers in the margin to indicate a sequence of points in an argument the author is making.
  5. In the margins, write "Cf. [pg] xxx" to refer to other page xxx in the book. Sometimes, in math books, I also write "See so-and-so's title, pg xx for more on some subject." This helps a lot in mathematics.
  6. Circle key words or phrases.
  7. Write notes in the margins, at the top of the page, and/or at the bottom of the page. Also, Adler remarks The endpapers at the back of the book can be used to make a personal index of the author's points in the order of their appearance.

On this last point, Adler remarks The front endpapers are better reserved for a record of your thinking. After finishing the book and making your personal index on the back endpapers, tum to the front and try to outline the book [...] as an integrated structure, with a basic outline and an order of parts.

Bert Webb has suggested Twelve Ways To Mark Up A Book [typepad.com] although note that a post-it note is horrible for a book: it will make the paper brittle over time, and eventually (shockingly) it will shatter when used.

What about Library Books?

You cannot (well, should not) do this with library books. What to do?

Well, back in the day they had these things called a "Commonplace book [wikipedia.org]" where one would write down a passage from a book, and then some comments on it.

This is a viable alternative, but it leads us to our next segment: note making.

Note Making

There are three types of note making.

"Structural note-making" are notes primarily concerning the book's struture, and not its substance-at least not in detail.

"Conceptual note-making" are notes answering questions on the book's truth and significance. They concern the author's concepts, and also your own, as they have been deepened or broadened by your reading of the book.

"Dialectical note-making" are notes about the shape of the discussion- the discussion that is engaged in by all of the authors, even if unbeknownst to them. This is syntopical reading based notes, and requires several books.

Adler notes that But in order to forget them as separate acts, you have to learn them first as separate acts (55).

Analytical Reading

There are several rules Adler gives to read analytically.

RULE 1. "You must know what kind of book you are reading, and you should know this as early in the process as possible, preferably before you begin" (60). Is it fiction (a novel, a play, a poem, an epic) or non-fiction?

We can infer some information from the title. Adler quips Again, however, to group books as being of the same kind is not enough; to follow this first rule of reading you must know what that kind is (64).

The title gives different information for fiction books, compared to non-fiction books. And in non-fiction, the title is different for mathematics and science, compared to more liberal arts subjects.

We can also note that there is a difference between "theoretical" and "practical" books: it is the distinction between knowledge and action.

Theoretical books teach you that something is the case. Practical books teach you how to do something you want to do or think you should do (66).

RULE 2. State the unity of the whole book in a single sentence, or at most a short paragraph. (75--76).

In other words, the "unity" of the book is what you would tell your friend or family over dinner.

This should involve, what Dr MacElroy calls, Detail (with a capital "D"): any fact, figure, proper nouns, number, statistics, ratios, or capitalized words.

Compare these two statements summarizing a hypothetical book:

Statement 1: Beatles attack many Southern crops.

Statement 2: Each Summer, Japanese Beatles attack over 300 different kinds of flowers, foliage, and fruit in North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Tennessee, and Alabama.

See the difference? I hope so...

RULE 3. Set forth the major parts of the book, and show how these are organized into a whole, by being ordered to one another and to the unity of the whole (76).

In a sense, this is a self-seimilar aspect to note taking.

Adler remarks Hence the third rule involves more than just an enumeration of the parts. It means outlining them, that is, treating the parts as if they were subordinate wholes, each with a unity and complexity of its own (84).

When you look at my notes on Herodotus' Histories, Books I and II, you can see that my notes for book I are written up in such a way that the first outline I wrote is:
first logos: the story of Croesus (1.1-94)
second logos: the rise of Cyrus the Great (1.95-140)
third logos: affairs in Babylonia and Persia (1.141-216)

I then went back, and then expanded on each of these.

I. The story of Croesus.
7–25. Lydian History.
26–56. Croesus of Lydia.
57–64. History of Athens.
65–68. History of Sparta.
II. Rise of Cyrus.
69–84. Croesus attempts (and fails) at conquering Assyrians; Cyrus conquers Sardis.
85–92. Croesus as Cyrus' slave.
93–94. Lydian culture.
95–130. Medes history, rise of Deioces, Phraortes.
106–125. Background of Cyrus' birth, upbringing, etc.
126–130. Cyrus overthrowing Cyaxeres by using the Persians, becomes ruler of the Persians.
131–140. Culture of the Persians.
III. Affairs in Babylonia and Persia.
141–176. Persian conquest of the Ionians.
178–200. Babylon, its History; battle of Babylon; customs of Babylonians.
201–216. Death of Cyrus.

Each of these can be expanded, in turn, to write more Details. As Adler writes:

A good book, like a good house, is an orderly arrangement of parts. Each major part has a certain amount of independence. As we will see, it may have an interior structure of its own, and it may be decorated in a different way from other parts. But it must also be connected with the other parts-that is, related to them functionally-for otherwise it would not contribute its share to the intelligibility of the whole.

[...]

Let us return now to the second rule, which requires you to state the unity of a book. A few illustrations of the rule in operation may guide you in putting it into practice.

Let us begin with a famous case. You probably read Homer's Odyssey in school. If not, you must know the story of Odysseus, or Ulysses, as the Romans call him, the man who took ten years to return from the siege of Troy only to find his faithful wife Penelope herself besieged by suitors. It is an elaborate story as Homer tells it, full of exciting adventures on land and sea, replete with episodes of all sorts and many complications of plot. But it also has a single unity of action, a main thread of plot that ties everything together.

Aristotle, in his Poetics, insists that this is the mark of every good story, novel, or play. To support his point, he shows how the unity of the Odyssey can be summarized in a few sentences.

A certain man is absent from home for many years; he is jealously watched by Poseidon, and left desolate. Meanwhile his home is in a wretched plight; suitors are wasting his substance and plotting against his son. At length, tempest-tossed, he himself arrives; he makes certain persons acquainted with him; he attacks the suitors with his own hand, and is himself preserved while he destroys them.

"This," says Aristotle, "is the essence of the plot; the rest is episode." (77--79)

Adler gives two warnings:

(1) a good author will help you summarize the book in a single sentence [usually in the preface],

(2) there is no single correct "single-sentence summary" for a book...there may be many different such summaries.

Regarding the self-similarity to note-taking, Adler remarks:

Hence the third rule involves more than just an enumeration of the parts. It means outlining them, that is, treating the parts as if they were subordinate wholes, each with a unity and complexity of its own.

[...] According to the second rule, we had to say : The whole book is about so and so and such and such. That done, we might obey the third rule by proceeding as follows: (1) The author accomplished this plan in five major parts, of which the first part is about so and so, the second part is about such and such, the third part is about this, the fourth part about that, and the fifth part about still another thing. (2) The first of these major parts is divided into three sections, of which the first considers X, the second considers Y, and the third considers Z. (3) In the first section of the first part, the author makes four points, of which· the first is A, the second B, the third C, and the fourth D. And so on and so forth. (84)

This may seem like too much work, but it is done habitually. It does not have to be written down, it may be stored mentally in one's memory.

How much outlining should one do? Adler quips No book deserves a perfect outline because no book is perfect (85). Remember: the outline is of the book, not the subject.

Sometimes the outline is longer than the book (e.g. Medieval commentaries on Aristotle is typically longer than the original, since it includes more than an outline...it also includes examples, etc.).

When reading, e.g., Das Kapital (vol. I) I essentially had to rewrite, sentence by sentence, the first four chapters. But everything after that was simple to understand.

RULE 4. Find out what the Author's problems were (92). The author is trying to answer some question, supposedly the book has the [a?] solution.

Not all questions were explicitly stated. When we have a list of the questions, we should ask ourselves: Which are primary and which secondary? Which questions must be answered first, if others are to be answered later? (93)

We can see that, like the previous rules, this applies to the "self-similar" parts of the book.

What sort of questions can we ask? Well...

If you know the kinds of questions anyone can ask about anything, you will become adept in detecting an author's problems. They can be formulated briefly : Does something exist? What kind of thing is it? What caused it to exist, or under what conditions can it exist, or why does it exist? What purpose does it serve? What are the consequences of its existence? What are its characteristic properties, its typical traits? What are its relations to other things of a similar sort, or of a different sort? How does it behave? These are all theoretical questions. What ends should be sought? What means should be chosen to a given end? What things must one do to gain a certain objective, and in what order? Under these conditions, what is the right thing to do, or the better rather than the worse? Under what conditions would it be better to do this rather than that? These are all practical questions. (93--94)

So, these are the four rules of reading which cover up to (and including) analytical reading. To reiterate, these rules are:

  1. Classify the book according t o kind and subject matter.
  2. State what the whole book is about with the utmost brevity.
  3. Enumerate its major parts in their order and relation, and outline these parts as you have outlined the whole.
  4. Define the problem or problems the author is trying to solve.

Coming to Terms with the Author

Sometimes the author uses special terms in a particular way (mathematicians know this best of all people).

For example, if one is reading economic works from the 18th to mid-19th centuries, the word "value" has many different but related meanings depending on the author.

In fact, terms are so important, Adler adds a fifth rule:

RULE 5. FIND THE IMPORTANT WORDS AND THROUGH THEM COME TO TERMS WITH THE AUTHOR. Note that the rule has two parts. The first part is to locate the important words, the words that make a difference. The second part is to determine the meaning of these words, as used, with precision. (98)

These two steps can be thought of slightly differently:

As we have pointed out, each of the rules of interpretive reading involves two steps. To get technical for a moment, we may say that these rules have a grammatical and a logical aspect. The grammatical aspect is the one that deals with words. The logical step deals with their meanings or, more precisely, with terms. (99)

These two steps are reciprocal, though. We identify the grammatical aspect by locating the passages with key terms, and we determine the meaning of the key terms by understanding their meaning with respect to that passage.

Sometimes there are typographical indicators of introducing key terms. In mathematics, this is done explicitly in a block definition that looks like:

Definition. A "term" is ...

Other times, it can be inferred from the table of contents (e.g., in economic texts one can immediately see that price, value, labour, output, productivity, etc., are key terms).

With regards to determining their meaning, the general rule is you have to discover the meaning of a word you do not understand by using the meanings of all the other words in the context that you do understand (107).

Sadly, we must come to acknowledge that (in general) There is no rule of thumb for doing this. The process is something like the trial-and-error method of putting a jigsaw puzzle together (108).

The Author's Intent

The author's propositions are nothing but expressions of personal opinion unless they are supported by reasons (115).

We want to know not merely what the author's propositions are, but also why the author thinks we ought to be persuaded to accept them.

So, we have some additional rules:

RULE 5. Find the important words and come to terms.

RULE 6. Mark the most important sentences in a book and discover the propositions they contain.

RULE 7. Locate or construct the basic arguments in the book by finding them in the connection of sentences.

How do we find the key sentences? The heart of the author's communication lies in the major affirmations and denials the author is making, and the reasons the author gives for so doing.

Perhaps you are beginning to see how essential a part of reading it is to be perplexed and know it. Wonder is the beginning of wisdom in learning from books as well as from nature. If you never ask yourself any questions about the meaning of a passage, you cannot expect the book to give you any insight you do not already possess (123).

Adler goes on to give another indicator:

This suggests one further clue to the location of the principal propositions. They must belong to the main argument of the book. They must be either premises or conclusions. Hence, if you can detect those sentences that seem to form a sequence, a sequence in which there is a beginning and an end, you probably have put your finger on the sentences that are important. (123)

Adler urges us to read and re-read the sentences which puzzle us rather than interest us.

How do we construct the basic arguments of the text? Adler remarks:

The translation of one English sentence into another, however, is not merely verbal. The new sentence you have formed is not a verbal replica of the original. If accurate, it is faithful to the thought alone. That is why making such translations is the best test you can apply to yourself, if you want to be sure you have digested the proposition, not merely swallowed the words. If you fail the test, you have uncovered a failure of understanding. If you say that you know what the author means, but can only repeat the author's sentence to show that you do, then you would not be able to recognize the author's proposition if it were presented to you in other words. (126)

So rewrite the argument in your own words.

Another good test is to exemplify the proposition:

There is one other test of whether you understand the proposition in a sentence you have read. Can you point to some experience you have had that the proposition describes or to which the proposition is in any way relevant? Can you exemplify the general truth that has been enunciated by referring to a particular instance of it? To imagine a possible case is often as good as citing an actual one. If you cannot do anything at all to exemplify or illustrate the proposition, either imaginatively or by reference to actual experiences, you should suspect that you do not know what is being said. (127)

If we fail to obtain a translation, then as a fall-back we should attempt an example.

We will, in fact, note that many sentences do not contain an argument at all. So let us reformulate rule 7:

RULE 7'. Find if you can the paragraphs in a book that state its important arguments; but if the arguments are not thus expressed, your task is to construct them, by taking a sentence from this paragraph, and one from that, until you have gathered together the sequence of sentences that state the propositions that compose the argument.

A good book should summarize its arguments as it goes along, though.

If the book contains arguments at all, then you must know what they are, and be able to summarize them.

Several tips:

(1) arguments consist of sentences. If you can spot the conclusion, the arguments must be nearby...and if you have the arguments, where is it heading?

(2) discriminate between the kind of argument that points to one or more particular facts as evidence for some generalization and the kind that offers a series of general statements to prove some further generalizations (132). In other words, is the argument inductive or deductive (respectively)?

(3) observe what things the author says we must assume, which of the author's statements can be proved or otherwise evidenced, and what need not be proved because it is self-evident. In other words, what is the logical status of each statement: assumption, provable, or axiom?

So, knowing the terms, propositions, and arguments leads us to the next rule of reading:

RULE 8. Find out what the author's solutions are.

So, we really want to know What is being said in detail, and how? To answer that, we use rules 5 through 8. Recall that these rules are:

RULE 5. Come to terms with the author by interpreting his key words.

RULE 6. Grasp the author's leading propositions by dealing with his most important sentences.

RULE 7. Know the author's arguments, by finding them in, or constructing them out of, sequences of sentences.

RULE 8. Determine which of his problems the author has solved, and which the author has not; and of the latter, decide which the author knew he had failed to solve.

Answering the Question: "So what?"

We should remember that as intellectuals, when we criticize we don't do it...in the conventional "You're an idiot"-sense of the word "criticize". In other words: no ad-hominems.

Concentrate on the core points the pieces make - words/phrases, references, examples, quotes, statistics -- and ask yourself if these can be criticized because they are vague, ambiguous, unhelpful, misguided, etc.

Discuss what is "missing" from a given text: Think about missing links in terms of what articles give and what they gloss over (i.e., never make clear, never substantiate, etc. etc. etc.).

Don't come out and say stuff, you slowly give parcel stuff out. Be careful with the words you use.

Criticism is working through the piece, showing differences with other pieces, discuss weaknesses and strengths.

Intellectuals are not interested in the person or their background, it's what they say and to be fair even if you loathe them.

We are very cautious. Instead think about 1 sentence statements, get involved with "This «statement said» is wrong/weird/exaggerated."

A huge red flag comes from statements like "All Americans know..."

Think about what we are given within what we are given. That is, given the piece, use only the piece...don't wander off and obtain statistics. Sometimes that is good, especially in the sciences.

Also, if they just say something without citation — e.g., make a claim without evidence, that is valid criticism.

We can summarize these points are the following rules:

RULE 9. Do not begin criticism until you have completed your outline and your interpretation of the book. (Do not say you agree, disagree, or suspend judgment, until you can say "I understand.")

RULE 10. Do not disagree disputatiously or contentiously.

RULE 11. Demonstrate that you recognize the difference between knowledge and mere personal opinion by presenting good reasons for any critical judgment you make.

Moreover, where we may critique an author may be specified in the last batch of rules:

RULE 12. Show wherein the author is uninformed.

To support the claim "the author is uninformed", you must:

  1. be able to state the knowledge that the author lacks and
  2. show how
    1. it is relevant, and how
    2. it makes a difference to the author's conclusions.

RULE 13. Show wherein the author is misinformed.

The author is making assertions contrary to fact, i.e. proposing as true or more probable what is in fact false or less probable. The writer is claiming to have knowledge which the writing does not possess. This kind of defect should be pointed out only if it is relevant to the author's conclusions. And to support the remark you must be able to argue the truth or greater probability of a position contrary to the author's.

RULE 14. Show wherein the author is illogical.

The reader must be able to show (respectfully) how the author's argument lacks cogency. We are concerned with this defect only to the extent that the major conclusions are affected by it.

RULE 15. Show wherein the author's analysis or account is incomplete.

It is not enough to say that a book is incomplete. Anyone can say that of any book. There is no point in making this remark, unless the reader can define the inadequacy precisely, either by his own efforts as a "knower" or through the help of other books.

There is nothing wrong with controversy, but (as Adler remarks) Good controversy should not be a quarrel about assumptions (155).

Of course, these rules need to be modified for various genres of writing.

Genres of Writing

Literature and Poetry

We do not look for "truth" in literature or poetry. We look for its effects on us.

Also literature typically consists of a number of "episodes", which can be thought of as a short story. These are composed together to form a "macroscale" story.

For example, Mark Twain's Adventures of Tom Sawyer has each chapter be a short story, but they are related to each other and weave several "macroscale" stories (e.g. Tom and Becky's relationship, Tom and Huck witnessing the murder, which leads them to become "pirates" along with another child, etc. etc. etc.).

First observe: the elements of fiction are its episodes and incidents, its characters, and their thoughts, speeches, feelings, and actions.

Second: we said terms are connected with propositions; analogously, the elements of fiction are connected by the total scene or background against which they stand out in relief.

Adler remarks:

You will recall that the first three questions are: first, What is the book about as a whole?; second, What is being said in detail, and how?; and third, Is the book true, in whole or part? The application of these three questions to imaginative literature was covered in the last chapter. The first question is answered when you are able to describe the unity of the plot of a story, play, or poem-"plot" being construed broadly to include the action or movement of a lyric poem as well as of a story. The second question is answered when you are able to discern the role that the various characters play, and recount, in your own words, the key incidents and events in which they are involved. And the third question is answered when you are able to give a reasoned judgment about the poetical truth of the work. Is it a likely story? Does the work satisfy your heart and your mind? Do you appreciate the beauty of the work? In each case, can you say why? (emphasis added, 215--16)

Plays

When reading plays, Adler suggests imagining we have the play going on inside our "inner theater" (cf. "inner monologue").

The only complete way to read a play is to see it performed, just as the only complete way to read music is to hear it performed.

Lyrical Poetry

I combine the first two rules of reading lyrical poetry together: to read it through without stopping, whether you think you understand it or not, and simultaneously read it out loud.

What questions can we ask of lyrical poetry? Usually they are rhetorical, though they may also be syntactical.

Why do certain words pop out of the poem and stare you in the face? Is it because the rhythm marks them? Or the rhyme? Or are the words repeated? Do several stanzas seem to be about the same ideas; if so, do these ideas form any kind of sequence? Anything of this sort that you can discover will help your understanding (230).

To be understood, the poem must be read aloud. But also, after some period of time we should return to it. Reading lyrical poetry is a lifetime job.

History

One might want to refer to Theodore Roosevelt's "History as Literature".

Actually, a lot of history may be viewed as a novel. One could legitimately read Herodotus as a sequence of episodes which describe the interaction between the Greeks and the Persians.

Actually, I have been wondering how to take notes on history in a way that is effective. I feel that recording the events as episodes is a legitimate way to do it.

History discusses events, persons, or institutions. There are two types of propositions:

(1) those statements regarding events, persons, or institutions;

(2) how the story is told, i.e., who is the hero, where the author places the climax, how the author develops the aftermath.

NB: when taking notes on history, we could be inspired by Jaegwon Kim's theory of structured events. An event is an ordered triple (x, P, t) where:
x is/are Object(s), i.e., what persons or institutions or locations or...;
P is a property; and
t is a date or temporal ordering.
Example: (Lincoln is assassinated, 1865). Index cards become cute and handy.

Adler gives two rules for reading history: The first is: if you can, read more than one history of an event or period that interests you. The second is: read a history not only to learn what really happened at a particular time and place in the past, but also to learn the way men act in all times and places, especially now (241).

What questions may be asked while reading history? We may note that

...the historian tells a story, and that story, of course, occurred in time. Its general outlines are thus determined, and we do not have to search for them. But there is more than one way to tell a story, and we must know how the historian has chosen to tell his. Does he divide his work into chapters that correspond to years or decades or generations? Or does he divide it according to other rubrics of his own choosing? Does he discuss, in one chapter, the economic history of his period, and cover its wars and religious movements and literary productions in others? Which of these is most important to him? If we discover that, if we can say which aspect of the story he is telling seems to him most fundamental, we can understand him better. (242)

When asking "What of it?" Adler quips History, which tells us of the actions of men of the past, often does lead us to make changes, to try to better our lot (243).

I know this sounds like fiction, but once upon a time politicians were extraordinarily well read in history...but modern politicians are barely literate.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Epsilon Calculus

So, this is a post consisting of notes for myself on Hilbert's ε-calculus...specifically with regards to Bourbaki's use of it.

What is ε Calculus?

We work with first order languages. So, we have predicates, terms, etc.

Let A be a predicate. Then we interpret εx A as "some x that satisfies A".

We could look at it as returning a term t which satisfies A, or if no such term exists it just returns any term for which A is false.

This seems like a pain to program up, since "return any term which satisfies such-and-such, non-deterministically" is...weird!

How did Bourbaki use it?

Well, formally, Bourbaki used a slightly different notation, and the Internet Encylopedia of Philosophy notes [utm.edu] that "Bourbaki's epsilon calculus with identity (Bourbaki, 1954, Book 1) is axiomatic, with Modus Ponens as the only primitive inference or derivation rule."

This reminds me of the simple propositional calculus Mendelson introduces in chapter 1 of Introduction to Mathematical Logic (fourth ed.). If you are unfamiliar with it, wikipedia [wikipedia.org] has a review of the system. It has one rule of inference (modus ponens) and 3 axioms.

Effectively, the ε operator acts as a choice operator, which means that the set theory framework set up by Bourbaki automatically has the axiom of choice induced by this ε operator.

Moreover, this is a global choice operator, so Bourbaki's axioms are equivalent to something like Zermelo set theory + Axiom of Global Choice.

Aside: Bourbaki Set Theory

I want to discuss in some detail the axioms of Bourbaki's set theory...because it is not ever discussed anywhere.

There is (II §1.4, pg 67 of Theory of Sets) the first axiom, "the axiom of extent":

A1. (∀ x)(∀ y)((x⊂y and y⊂x) implies (x=y)).

This is the axiom of extensionality we all know and love that defines set equality as "two sets are equal if and only if they have the same elements".

The next axiom is what we would call the axiom of pairing, and Bourbaki calls it the "the axiom of the set of two elements" (Theory of Sets §1.5, pg 69):

A2. (∀ x)(∀ y) Collz(z=x or z=y)

"This axiom says that if x and y are objects, then there is a set whose only elements are x and y" (Theory of Sets II §1.5, pg 69).

In modern set theory, this is the axiom of pairing which says for all x and y there exists a z such that z={x,y}. This is a little bit sloppy, but that's the content of the axiom.

Next, we have the axiom of the ordered pair (Theory of Sets II §2.1, pg 72):

(∀ x)(∀ x')(∀ y) (∀ y') (((x,y) = (x',y')) implies (x=x' and y=y'))

Nothing controversial here, just the definition of an ordered pair.

There are two axioms left. There is the axiom of the set of subsets (Theory of Sets II §5.1, pg 101):

(∀ X) CollY (Y⊂X)

This amounts to specifying that the power set of any set X exists.

Now the last axiom for Bourbaki's set theory is the axiom of infinity (Theory of Sets III §6.1, pg 183):

A5. There exists an infinite set.

That's it! That's everything! As homework exercise, prove it's formally equivalent to Zermelo's axioms...

Now, what about the axiom of choice? Well, actually, Bourbaki has it covered:

Theorem 1 (Zermelo). Every set E may be well-ordered.

The proof (pp. 153--54) uses, yep you guessed it, the ε choice operator. Basically, take the power set, then throw away the element E in the power set. For each element in this collection of proper subsets, choose an element using ε-calculus.

This induces an ordering of elements because the power set is a complete lattice (with respect to the ordering given by inclusion). Thus we obtain an ordering on the set, and it follows any (nonempty?) set can be well-ordered.

This is equivalent to the axiom of choice. If we allow the scheme of ε extensionality:

∀x ((A(x) if and only if B(x)) implies (εx A = εx B))

What happens? As a consequence to this, we get the Axiom of Global Choice [wikipedia.org].

In Automated Theorem Proving

Martin Giese , Wolfgang Ahrendt's "Hilbert's epsilon-Terms in Automated Theorem Proving" (eprint [citeseerx.ist.psu.edu]) discusses the role the epsilon calculus has had in automated theorem proving.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Resources on Homer

It has accordingly been an excellent custom that reading should commence with Homer…

Quintilian, Institutios I.8.5.

Table of Contents

The Iliad

Ablemedia.com

There is an excellent study guide provided by ablemedia.com. The author notes:

The war had been occasioned by an offense given twenty years earlier to Menelaos, the Greek king of Sparta, by the Trojan Prince, Paris (also called Alexandros). Paris, aided by the goddess Aphrodite, whom he had judged the winner of a beauty contest over the goddesses Athene and Hera, had stolen Menelaos's wife, Helen. In order to recover Helen, Menelaos's brother, Agamemnon, the powerful king of Mykenai, had gathered together a large force that included many prominent Greek warriors, themselves either princes or kings. The greatest of these was the hero, Achilleus, the central character of the Iliad. The main story of the poem consists of the experiences of Achilleus within a rather limited period of time (fifty-four days) in the tenth year of the war.
Source: Reading the Iliad.

The author goes on to suggest that:

The reason for the constant repetitions in the Iliad is that Homer composed in an oral style, which involved the improvisation of poetry without the aid of writing. In order to facilitate the adaptation of his words to the requirements of the dactylic hexameter, the traditional meter of Greek epic poetry, the oral poet used stock phrases called formulas, which aided him in filling out various metrical portions of the line. A character or object in the Iliad generally has a number of epithets of varying metrical size used in conjunction with it. The reason for this is that sometimes a longer epithet is needed to suit the meter, while on other occasions a shorter one is needed. For example, in lines 58, 84, 364, 489 of book 1 a metrically longer epithet is required to describe Achilleus; therefore he is referred to as Achilleus "of the swift feet". But in lines 7 and 292 of the same book a metrically shorter epithet is needed; therefore he is called "brilliant".

The term formula can also be used in reference to other elements larger than the name plus epithet. A whole line can be formulaic, such as the line which is regularly employed at the end of a meal:

After they had put away their desire for eating and drinking

Also formulaic are whole passages which are repeated in almost exactly the same language with a closely corresponding sequence of events, as is evident in the description of a sacrifice and a meal in 1.458-469 and 2.421-432. Messages tend to be repeated or stories retold in almost exactly the same language.

These repetitions are essential to the oral style of composition. They not only aided the poet in composing, but also helped the audience, who did not have the benefit of a text, to remember the details of the story. But if these repeated formulas had been just practical necessities, the Iliad would not have succeeded as poetry. In addition to their practical purpose, these formulas with their emphasis on particulars create an indelibly vivid impression of the characters and the Homeric world in general. Who can forget "swift-footed Achilleus", "fair-cheeked Briseis," "Zeus who gathers the clouds" or "the glancing-eyed Achaians", "the infinite water"? Some formulas have an inherent poetic beauty: "Dawn with her rosy fingers", "Hera of the white arms", "the shadowy mountains and the echoing sea", etc. The formulaic line which is often used to describe the death of a hero has a power that survives its many repetitions:

He fell thunderously and his armor clattered upon him.

You will no doubt find your own favorites in the poem.

Be patient with this oral style of composition; you will soon become used to it. Also, don't be put off by the great variety of characters and actions. The Iliad is something like a very large painting which contains crowds of people and many insignificant events but focuses on a central action. These details are not important individually, but do create an impression of largeness and provide an imposing background for the main focus of the painting. Confronted for the first time with a poem with a large cast of characters and the seemingly countless details of the narrative, you might find yourself somewhat confused. But if you read carefully and are willing to reread, you will find that the main story of the Iliad is fairly simple and involves a relatively small number of major characters.

Source: Reading the Iliad.

The author gives a series of great study questions, as well as tips for "character analysis".

iliadtranslation.com

There is a great resource page at iliadtranslation.com. It has plot summaries, maps, discussion of characters, themes, etc.

The Odyssey

I don't think as many resources are needed for Homer's Odyssey (compared to the Iliad), so here are just a few references.

Robin Mitchell-Boyask's Study Guide is an excellent resource.

The blog A Common Reader has a great collection of online resources for the Odyssey.

eNotes provides a number of resources that are varying degrees in usefulness. They are all neatly gather together online for the curious reader that wants to begin with the Odyssey.

Aristotle's Poetics: Notes on Homer's Iliad and Odyssey

(NB: This website was provided by Leeds, but taken down due to various reasons…at any rate, I got it from the Wayback Machine.)

CLAS3152: FURTHER GREEK LITERATURE II: Aristotle's Poetics


Notes on Homer's Iliad and Odyssey

1. What does Aristotle say?

Aristotle makes the following references to Homer:

(i) ch. 2 (48a11-12): object: Homer imitates men 'better than we are';
(ii) ch. 3 (48a21-22): mode: narrative, but with impersonation of the characters;
(iii) ch. 4 (48b34-49a2): Homer's excellence he uniquely achieves pre-eminence in both the serious and comic traditions of poetry, and his quasi-dramatic style points the way to tragedy and comedy in the strict sense;
(iv) ch. 8 (51a22-30): Homer's excellence: unity of plot (contrasted with defective plots based on a single person);
(v) ch. 15 (54b1-2): an inappropriate use of divine intervention in the Iliad;
(vi) ch. 15 (54b14-15): Homer's portrayal of Achilles;
(vii) ch. 16 (54b25-30): the use of the scar in the recognition of Odysseus by the nurse (combined with reversal) and the swineherds ;
(viii) ch. 16 (55a2-4): the recognition of Odysseus in Alcinous' palace;
(ix) ch. 18 (55b15-23): episodes in epic and the plot of the Odyssey;
(x) ch. 23 (59a30-b7): excellence in plot-construction (contrasted with defective plots constructed like a work of historiography and with plots that are well-formed but have 'many parts');
(xi) ch. 24 (59b12-16): the Iliad and Odyssey compared;
(xii) ch. 24 (59b12-16): the excellence of Homer's quasi-dramatic style;
(xiii) ch. 24 (60a18-26): a Homeric model for the handling of irrationalities: false inference.
(xiv) ch. 24 (60a34-b5): Homer's ability to conceal irrationalities by other good qualities.

Some general comments on epic:

(i) ch. 5 (49b9-20): a general introduction;
(ii) ch. 18 (49b9-20): tragedy and epic: the difference in scale;
(iii) ch. 24 (59b16-60a2): differences between tragedy and epic;
(iv) ch. 24 (60a11-18): astonishment in epic;
(v) ch. 26 (62a18-b11): epic length may result in dilution and loss of unity.

In addition, the discussion of problems and solutions (ch. 25) is mainly concerned with points from the Homeric poems. Aristotle discussed this kind of material more extensively in his Homeric Questions, of which only a few fragments survive; a selection of these fragments is available in the collection of supporting texts.

2. What do Aristotle's theories imply?

Homer's excellence

1. One thing that Aristotle admires in Homer is his use of direct speech (see especially ch. 24, 60a5-11). Epic is a narrative form, but by allowing his characters to speak for themselves Homer makes his epic narrative approximate to drama: he thus foreshadows the later development of drama which he regards as a superior form of poetry (ch.4, 48b34- 49a6). Why? The passage in praise of Homer's use of direct speech gives two pointers. First, the poet speaking in his own voice as narrator 'is not what makes him an imitator'. This may seem to contradict Aristotle's claim that all poetry - including epic - is by its very nature imitation; but it is in fact perfectly consistent to say that epic and tragedy are both forms of imitations, but that tragedy is more genuinely imitative. Secondly, Aristotle comments that all of Homer's characters 'have character'. Since speech is, for Aristotle, an important (perhaps, the most important) vehicle for the imitation of character (ch. 6, 50b8-12), Homer's use of direct speech opens up possibilities for the imitation of character absent in pure narrative. In particular, letting the characters speak for themselves makes it possible for the poet to make clear, not just what happened, but why it happened: what attitudes and dispositions motivated the person to act like that. (Thus, for example, at the beginning of the Iliad we do not just learn that Agamemnon refused Chryses' request for his daughter's freedom: because we hear Agamemnon's own words we see how that refusal is rooted in the kind of person he is.)

2. Aristotle also admires Homer's skill in plot construction - something which is of course central to his view of what is important in poetry (though Aristotle's enthusiasm for Homer's use of direct speech to convey character shows that his arguments for the primacy of plot do not imply that character is unimportant). There are two levels to this. First, Homer has avoided the mistake made by many other epic poets of giving his epic the structure of a biography (telling the story of a single hero: ch. 8, 51a16-30), or of a historical narrative (telling the story of everything that happened in a given period of time: ch. 23, 59a17- 30). A single person's life, or the history of a single period of time, will contain lots of unconnected events; so the plot in such epics will not consist of a series of events linked to each other in accordance with necessity or probability.

3. But necessary and probable connection is only a minimum requirement for a well-formed plot; so it is not saying very much that Homer satisfies this condition - and Aristotle recognises that there are other poets who pass this test. What makes Homer unique (ch. 23, 59a30-59b7) is the concentration of his plot on a very short sequence of events: most epic poets construct plots that are connected, but have many parts; Homer selects in a single section (the anger of Achilles and its consequences) out of a larger connected story (the story of the whole Trojan war) and makes his plot out of that. We will see below how Homer goes about this.

4. Aristotle goes on to comment on Homer's ability to handle all the elements of poetry (different kinds of plot, character, reasoning, diction) well. This passage (ch. 24, 59b7-16) includes a comparison of the two Homeric epics: the Iliad is simple and based on suffering, the Odyssey is complex and based on character. This formulation is (of course) simplistic, and leaves much unsaid; but it is obviously not intended as a full analysis of the two epics (the question to ask is not whether Aristotle has produced a satisfactory account of the two poems, but whether it is posible to do better in one short sentence). The characterisations of the two poems are worth looking at more closely.

Odyssey: 'complex and based on character'

5. 'Complex', in Aristotle's terminology (ch. 10, 52a12-21), means that the plot has recognition and/or reversal. In the case of the Odyssey, as Aristotle says, 'recognition pervades it': Telemachus identifies himself to Nestor (book 3) and is recognised by Helen in Sparta (book 4); Odysseus makes himself known to the Phaeacians (book 9), and to Telemachus (book 16); he is recognised by the old nurse Eurycleia (book 19); and he reveals his identity to the herdsmen (book 21), to the suitors (book 22), to his wife (book 23), and to his father (book 24).

6. We may note in passing that none of these recognitions are, according to Aristotle's classification, technically very sophisticated. The recognition of Odysseus among the Phaeacians is an example of a kind ranked relatively high ('by means of memory': see ch. 16, 54b37-55a4; Aristotle is referring to the way Demodocus' song about the sack of Troy moves Odysseus to tears, prompting Alcinous to enquire about his identity). But Eurycleia and the herdsmen recognise Odysseus by the scar - an example of the least artistic kind of recognition, using physical tokens; but Aristotle points out that in the case of the nurse the recognition is combined with a reversal, since Odysseus' cover is unexpectedly blown by his own choice to be bathed by the old woman (ch. 16, 54b20-30).

7. 'Based on character' cannot mean that characterisation is absent or unimportant in the Iliad - Aristotle's enthusiasm for the way that Homer gives all his characters character by letting them speak proves that. The most likely explanation lies in the discussion of the best kind of tragic plot the Odyssey is the example of the second best kind - that with a double outcome, in which the good characters end happily and the bad unhappily (ch. 13, 53a30-33). For in this kind of plot it is moral character that determines the outcome.

8. Just as saying that the Odyssey is based on character does not mean that there is no character in the Iliad, so too the contrast with the Iliad does not imply that there is no suffering in the Odyssey (one need only think of the fate of Odysseus' crew, to say nothing of the suitors). Aristotle is only claiming that character and suffering are key elements in their respective poems in a way that they are not in the other.

Iliad: 'simple and based on suffering'

9. 'Suffering' is a technical term for Aristotle: 'an action that involves destruction or pain' (ch. 11, 52b9-13), such as death, wounding and physical agony. There are many deaths and woundings in the Iliad. One of the striking features of Homer's technique is how even minor figures are brought into focus at their death in a way designed to create a sense of the significance and pathos of their death. This example - the first to come to hand - illustrates the point well (Iliad 5.152-8): Diomedes 'went in pursuit of Xanthos and Thoön, sons of Phainops, both children late-born and loved: but he was worn by cruel age, and could father no other sons to leave over his possessions. So then Diomedes killed them, and took the dear life from them both, leaving lamentation and cruel sorrow to their father, when he did not welcome them alive back from the battle: and distant relatives divided the inheritance'. And of course there are other deaths, more elaborately prepared and narrated, with a more central place in the plot - notably the deaths of Patroclus and Hector.

10. The deaths of Patroclus and Hector - like the death of Xanthos and Thoön and many others - have an impact on those left alive. Is their grief and distress included within Aristotle's concept of suffering? The focus of his examples on physical suffering might suggest not: and that might be thought be a major shortcoming. Alternatively, you could point out that Aristotle's examples end with an 'and so on' of undefined scope: can we get emotional suffering in through that opening? (It would be surprising if Aristotle did not see the importance of Achilles; grief and sense of guilt.) Another possibility is to see the physical suffering and its emotional impact as a unity: death is tragically significant (in part) because of the emotional impact on the survivors; the representation of their grief and distress is what gives tragic significance to the merely physical facts. In this sense, we might say that while Aristotle's term refers to physical suffering, it does not exclude the emotional suffering of the other characters, since that is bound with the physical suffering.

11. Aristotle says that the Iliad is simple, i.e. that there is no recognition or reversal. It could be been objected that the death of Patroclus does involve reversal: Achilles' actions lead, contrary to his expectation, to the very thing he least wanted - the death of his dearest comrade. Is this analysis right? Achilles' actions do achieve what he aimed at – the restoration of his position within the Greek army. Note too that, immediately before Patroclus set out for the battle, Achilles specifically warned him not to follow up his success too far (Iliad 16.87-96, cf. 16.685-7: 'if he had kept to the instruction of the son of Peleus he would have escaped the vile doom of black death'; 18.13f.). So the death of Patroclus is not exactly an unexpected outcome of Achilles' actions: on the contrary, he foresaw and tried to prevent the danger to Patroclus. It is true that Patroclus' death is a consequence of Achilles' withdrawal from the fighting (had it not been for that, the situation in which Patroclus exposed himself to such danger would not have arisen); but that is bound to be the case if the plot consists of a series of connected events. A reversal must be more than just a by-product of someone's actions, however unwelcome. So it is could be argued that Aristotle was right on this point. (On the other hand, Aristotle suggests that the recognition of Odysseus by his nurse does involve a reversal: see 54b29-30. This 'reversal' seems to be no more than unexpected and undesired side-effect of Odysseus' reluctance to be washed by one of the younger servants.)

Homer and the best kind of tragic plot

12. The fact that the Iliad has a simple plot means that it is does not fully match up to the ideal tragic plot of ch. 13, since Aristotle starts his analysis from the observation that the best tragedy will have a complex rather than a simple plot (52b30-32). In this respect, the complex plot of the Odyssey must be technically superior to that of the Iliad. On the other hand, we have already seen that the double outcome of the Odyssey makes it an instance of the second best kind of tragic plot; so the Iliad might be superior in this respect - if it corresponds to the other requirements of the best kind of tragic plot. According to Aristotle's analysis in ch. 13 (52b34-53a22), the best kind of tragic involves a change from good fortune to bad fortune on the part of someone who is neither outstandingly virtuous nor wicked, who falls into misfortune not because of wickedness but because of an error (hamartia). Can this pattern be applied to the Iliad?

13. We have already seen that Patroclus' death is the result of his failure to heed Achilles' warning. This would certainly seem to qualify as an error.

14. The series of decisions which brings Hector to the fatal confrontation with Achilles is also worth considering closely. In book 6, Andromache asks him to stay with her on the city wall (6.431f.); he refuses, as he must - it is his duty to fight. In book 14 Polydamas advises against an assault on the Greek camp; Hector overrules him. In book 18 Polydamas (knowing that Achilles will rejoin the fighting the next day) argues that the Trojans should withdraw inside the city and defend the walls; Hector again overrules him. In the next day's fighting the Trojans suffer a heavy defeat. They retreat inside the city; Hector is the last man left outside the walls; his parents, on top of the walls, beg him to come inside; but conscious that the disaster was due to his own misjudgement, he feels obliged to stay outside and face Achilles. He too, then, falls into misfortune as a result of an error - the rejection of Polydamas' advice in book 18. (Polydamas plays the role, common in Greek literature, of the adviser whose warnings are ignored.)

15. Hector is fighting on the wrong side; but that is not his fault (he has little sympathy for Paris' misdeeds) - he is simply doing his duty in defending his people. He is pious (consider how he goes back to the city in book 6 to arrange sacrifices to appease the gods); he is a good soldier; he resolutely refuses the chance to shirk his duty while in the city; and yet seeing him with his wife and baby shows him as a good husband and father as well. So he seems to be a virtuous man; does that mean that Hector is too virtuous to be a tragic figure by Aristotle's standards? Yet his refusal to listen to Polydamas' advice is not just an intellectual error (a miscalculation of the tactical situation); it expresses a shortcoming in his moral character - over- confidence and recklessness. This does not mean that he is a bad man; but he is not entirely blameless either. So this case supports the view that Aristotle's concept of error can include moral errors that fall short of depravity as well as intellectual errors.

16. A question that might be considered in passing is what bearing it has on our view of Hector that he is Trojan. In fifth-century tragedy the Trojans are often presented sympathetically (likewise Aeschylus' Persians is able to see the war from the perspective of the enemy who had sacked Athens not many years before, as a tragedy for them as well). Most would see Homer as equally able to treat both sides sympathetically (after all, in book 24 Priam and Achilles can in some measure transcend the fact that they are enemies). In the centuries after Aristotle, commentators on Homer often took the view that Homer was pro-Greek, and presented the Trojans (including Hector) in a bad light; but there is nothing in the Poetics or the fragments of the Homeric Questions to suggest that Aristotle took a similar view.

17. Of course, we must not forget Achilles: he too undergoes a change to bad fortune (cf. 19.321f.: 'There could be no worse suffering more me, not even if I heard of the death of my father...') as an indirect consequence of his quarrel with Agamemnon, which in retrospect he regards as folly. It is obvious enough that Achilles is not morally perfect; but Aristotle, at least, seems to regard him as a good man - Homer's portrayal of Achilles is his example of how one can incorporate shortcomings in an idealised portrait (ch. 15, 54b8-15: but note that the text of the reference to Homer and Achilles is confused, and we cannot be certain what Aristotle said at this point).

18. It seems, then, that the pattern which Aristotle prescribes for the best kind of tragic plot recurs several times in the Iliad. It is interesting that ch. 13, although it is not overtly concerned with epic, gives an account of the two Homeric poems - the Iliad as the best kind of tragic plot, the Odyssey as the second best kind.

19. The analysis of tragic plots in ch. 14 has less relevance to Homer. One point to note is that the deaths of Patroclus and Hector are examples of violence inflicted by enemy on enemy, 'there is nothing pitiable either in the action itself or in its imminence, except in respect of the actual suffering in itself' (ch. 14, 53b17-18). Does the example of the Iliad call this judgement into question?

Plot and poem

20. The plot of the Iliad develops briskly in book 1: the quarrel occurs, Achilles withdraws and ensures, through his mother's intervention with Zeus, that the Greeks will do badly in his absence; accordingly Zeus sends a dream to Agamemnon at the beginning of book 2 to trick him into giving battle; the consequential next step in the development of the plot is a Greek defeat. What in fact happens? Agamemnon puts the army to the test, with results that are almost disastrous; but in the end (thanks to divine intervention) nothing comes of this. Then we have the Catalogue of Ships and the corresponding Trojan Catalogue. Then Paris challenges Menelaus to a duel; this could lead to the settlement of the war; but in the end (thanks to divine intervention) nothing comes of this either - Paris is rescued and the truce broken. Then we have a proper battle (ending with another duel, between Hector and Ajax: but nothing is at stake in this duel, and it is curtailed without a result). Contrary to what we might have expected, the Greeks are extremely successful in this day's fighting - so much so that the Trojans send envoys offering to settle the dispute; but these overtures are rejected, so nothing comes of this either. It is not until book 8 that we get the Greek defeat which the plot demands. Similarly in later parts of the narrative. The nocturnal raid on the Trojan camp in book 10 does not advance the plot. In the next day's fighting the Trojan advance is reversed by the intervention of Poseidon, aided by Hera's seduction of Zeus; but since Zeus eventually notices what is happening and orders Poseidon out of the battle, nothing comes of this short-lived Greek success.

21. It seems, then, that in the Iliad there is a relatively small core of events which are essential to the progress of the plot, and round this is built a much larger mass of events that are not essential to the development of the plot. Here we come back to Aristotle's analysis of the unique excellence of Homer's plot construction: having selected a single section out of a larger connected story, he uses other material as 'episodes' to give the poem variety (Aristotle cites the Catalogue of Ships as an example: ch. 23, 59a35-37). Note that, in distinguishing the episodes from the core of the plot, Aristotle is not dismissing them as irrelevant or unimportant; the fact that they add to the poem's variety means that they make a positive contribution to the quality of the poem (Aristotle regards its greater variety as a point in which epic has an advantage over tragedy: ch. 24, 59b26-31). It is obvious from the summary above how much richer and more interesting the poem is as a result of those parts of the narrative which do not advance the core plot. We have criticised Aristotle often enough for his concentration on the plot in abstraction from the poem; but here we see that he was also aware of the poem as something which is more than the vehicle of a plot, and as something whose quality does not depend on the plot alone. (On the other hand, we might want to say that much of the material that is not essential to the plot is thematically important: this is something to which Aristotle pays little or no attention in the Poetics: is that a serious flaw? Does it mean that he is oblivious of something that is essential to literature?)

22. Compare the discussion of the Odyssey in ch. 17 (55b15-23). Here too we find the distinction between the limited core of plot and the expansive episodes.

Epic and tragedy

23. We have seen how the discussion of tragic plots in ch. 13 can be applied to the Iliad and Odyssey. Aristotle seems to think that, broadly speaking, epic and tragedy aim at the same kind of effect, so it is not surprising that the analysis of tragic plots is relevant to epic as well. But there are differences, as well as similarities, between epic and tragedy.

24. The differences include the different medium - narrative vs drama; we have already seen that Homer comes closer to drama than most epic in this respect. There is also epic's greater scope for variety, mentioned above, and the greater for astonishment and irrationalities that comes from the fact that events are not enacted before the audience's eyes (ch. 24, 60a11- 17).

25. Perhaps the most important difference is in length.

(a) Epic works on a larger scale than tragedy (ch. 5, 49b12-14). This is true even of the Iliad, despite its highly concentrated plot: we have seen how a typical tragic plot-pattern recurs several times. Aristotle comments that the plot of any epic, including the Iliad, contains a multiplicity of stories suitable for tragedy (ch. 18, 56a10-19); the greater length of the epic text gives scope for developing this multiplicity of stories on an appropriate scale. On the other hand, when he is emphasising the concentration of the plot of the Iliad, he suggests that unlike other epics it would yield only one or two tragedies (ch. 23, 59b2-7).

(b) In ch. 24 (59b18-22) he suggests that the optimum length for epic would be 'shorter than those of the ancient epics', matching 'the number of tragedies presented at one sitting'. If this refers to the length of the tragic text, it is a veiled criticism of Homer: the Iliad has more than 15,000 lines, the Odyssey more than 12,000 lines, and the recommended length would be 4-5,000 lines. (Most of the other early Greek epics we know of were much shorter than the Iliad and Odyssey, and thus closer to what Aristotle recommends.) An alternative view might be that he is referring to the scale of the epic plot, not of the epic text; this would mean that the ideal is not a certain number of lines of verse, but a plot that can be decomposed into not more than three tragic plots - so that the Iliad (yielding one or two plots) is better than non-Homeric epics like the Cypria and Little Iliad, just as Aristotle has said in ch. 23. (But why, if that is what he means, does Aristotle not name Homer as exemplifying his ideal?) Or perhaps there is a stronger sense of contrast with the following sentence: one way of ensuring that the whole plot can be taken in at once is to keep the epic text shorter than those of Homer, but epic also has resources unique to itself that make it possible to achieve expansiveness without going beyond what can be kept in memory. (This has the advantage of being consistent with the enthusiasm shown in the previous chapter for the way Homer expands a plot that concentrates on a concise series of events.)

(c) There is other evidence of ambivalence in Aristotle's views on this matter. In ch. 7 (51a9-11) he said that, within the upper limit imposed by the requirement that it should be possible to hold the whole plot in memory at once, the larger the plot the better. Yet in ch. 26, when he is arguing for the superiority of tragedy over epic, he claims that tragedy has an advantage in being shorter, more concentrated and more unified. Is this consistent? (Some of the things Aristotle says in ch. 26 seem more like debating points than serious arguments; and he does not mention the feature of tragedy which seems to be the basis of its superiority to epic in ch. 4 - its dramatic medium. But we cannot simply say that this chapter is an independent fragment tacked onto the end of the Poetics: since there was probably a second book, this is the middle, not the end, of the work as a whole.)

(d) At the very least, we can say this: the greater expansiveness of epic, though it has the potential advantage of making the poem more impressive and grandiose, involves risks: if you increase the number of events so as to fill up the narrative text available, you risk making the plot too complex for the audience to keep in memory at once; if you keep the number of events moderate, you risk boring the audience by spending too much time on each event. Homer's solution - a plot that concentrates on a very small number of events, plus a lot of very varied 'episodes' to expand the text - is the best possible solution for an epic poet.

Irrationalities

26. At first it seems that Aristotle has a very strict theory of plot: only events that have a necessary or probable connection meet the minimum requirements for an acceptable plot. But later in the Poetics it emerges that he is more flexible than that implies. Tragedy, for example, can get away with irrationalities if they are outside the play (54b6-8, 60a27-30). Epic has more scope: because the events it narrates are not seen on stage, it is easier to conceal irrationalities - for example, the pursuit of Hector (60a11-17). Realistically, the lone Trojan outside the walls with the whole Greek army running round and round with one man in pursuit makes no sense. But because we do not see this happening, we do not find it obtrusively absurd; and Homer gains many advantages by doing it this way (and not, e.g., simply ensuring that Hector and Achilles meet each other in the course of the battle): for example, Hector is isolated (achieving pathos), the one-on-one confrontation is emphasised (achieving intensity), and Hector's death is the end of the battle (we don't have to get the rest of the Trojan army out of the way). In ch. 25, on how to handle 'problems' in poetry, the general principle is: something that is mistaken or irrational is acceptable if it makes part of the poem more effective (60b23-26).

27. So if a poet can get some advantage from departing from necessity and probability, and if he can conceal the resulting irrationality from his audience, he has Aristotle's support. Homer, in particular, can get away with things that other epic poets could not get away with: for example, Odysseus' arrival in Ithaca (60a34-b5). It is absurd that the Phaeacians do not wake him up, but simply dump him on the shore; and it is absurd that he does not wake up when this is done. But this gains many advantages (the pathos of Odysseus' initial uncertainty and anxiety, the encounter with Athene, the recognition of home), and is made unobtrusive because Homer's unique abilities as narrator distract us.

Bibliography

28. Some relevant discussions:

  • J.C. Hogan, 'Aristotle's criticism of Homer in the Poetics', Classical Philology 68 (1973), 95-108
  • N.J. Richardson, 'Aristotle's reading of Homer and its background', in Homer's Ancient Readers ed. R. Lamberton & J.J. Keaney (Princeton 1992), 30-40
  • T.A. Stroud & E. Robertson, 'Aristotle's Poetics and the plot of the Iliad', Classical World 89 (1996), 179-196

This page is [was] maintained by Malcolm Heath, and was last updated on 4 May 2001.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Herodotus' Histories (Books I and II)

Introduction

These are my notes summarising Herodotus' Histories. There are lines which are in bold, which summarise what happen over some great period of chapters.

Each book is organised as a grocery list of "chapters", I summarise each chapter of each book.

Note that I am using the George Rawlinson translation, and it appears to use Greek mythological names even when referring e.g. to the Egyptian pantheon.

Book I

1–5. A crime blot of kidnappings.

1. Phoenicians kidnapped Io of Argos.

2. Later, some Greeks took Europé, princess of the Phoenicians.

3. Alexander (son of Priam) took Helen the Greek by force as a wife.

4. Persians consider the Greeks at fault. Thus concludes the Persian version of the story.

5. Phoenicians claim that Io left of her own free will.

6. Croesus (son of Algattes) was lord of all nations west of the Halys river.

7–25. Lydian History.

7. How Croesus came to power; the lineage of Lydian kings.

8. Camydales, long ago, was king and wanted his bodyguard Gyges to see his wife naked.

9. Gyges tried to decline, but was forced into the wife's chambers.

10. Gyges escapes from Caundales' chambers.

11. The Queen tells Gyges to kill Caundales and take the thrown, or kill himself; Gyges chooses the former.

12. Gyges slays Caundales.

13. Gyges takes the thrown if blessed by the oracle.

14. Gyges sent gifts to Delphi. While king made an inroad from Miletus to Smyrna…but that's it. Ardys succeeds Gyges.

15. Ardys took Priêné; Alyattes succeeds Ardys.

16. Alyatte conquered Smyrna and did things of note.

17. Laid siege to Miletus.

18. Alyattes accidentally burns down a temple of Minerva.

19. Alyattes ill, asks oracle what to do; oracle's reply is first rebuild the temple of Minerva.

23–24. Arion's story.

25. Alyattes dies.

26–56. Croesus of Lydia.

26. Croesus (Alyattes' son) takes the throne; declares war on Ephesus first, then the rest of the Ionians.

27. Croesus becomes master of Greek cities in Asia [i.e. Asia minor], forms a league of amity with Ionians of the Isles.

28. The tribes held in subjection.

29. Solon the Athenian travels abroad.

30. Croesus receives Solon; discusses Tellus as happiest man.

31. Solon suggests Cleobis and Bito coming second as happiest.

32. Croesus asks Solon where Croesus ranks.

33. Croesus perceives Solon as "an arrogant fool"; Solon leaves indifferent.

34. Croesus dreams one of his sons will die by an iron weapon; marries his son off.

35. Adrastus (son of Midas) comes and lives with Croesus.

36. A boar lays waste to the corn fields; villagers ask for Croesus' son's aid; Croesus refuses (because of his dream).

37. People ask if Croesus' son is a coward.

38. Croesus explains the dream he had.

39. The son asks to go.

40. Croesus assents, lets his son go hunt the boar.

41. Croesus asks Adrastus to joint the hunt.

42. Adrastus reluctantly agrees.

43. Adrastus accidentally kills Croesus' son.

44. Croesus finds out, furious at Adrastus.

45. Adrastus begs forgiveness, Croesus moved by pity.

46. Croesus learns of Cyrus (leader of the Persians) and asks oracles' guidance.

47. Only Delphi Oracle's reply extant, in form of hexameter verse.

48. Croesus believes only Delphi's oracle is true, and performs sacrifices.

49. Croesus believes he understands the prophecy.

50. Croesus orders everyone to perform sacrifices "to propitiate the Delphic gods".

51. Croesus sends many gifts to Delphi.

52. Many gifts still exist (in Herodotus' day).

53. Croesus asks the oracle if he should go to war with the Persians; Oracle says he'll destroy a mighty empire.

54. Delphians let Croesus consult the oracle free of charge.

55. Croesus asks the oracle if his kingdom would be of long duration.

56. Croesus interprets the reply well, contemplates league with Athens or Sparta.

57–64. History of Athens.

57. Pelasgi history.

58. Pelasgi are barbarians, cf. the "Hellenic races".

59. How Pisastrus came to power in Athens.

60. Pisastrus driven out, comes back to pwoer in Athens.

61. Pisastrus family exiled.

62. Pisastrus family returns near Marathon.

64. Pisastrus returns to power for a third time.

65–68. History of Sparta.

69. Croesus sends gifts to Sparta.

70. Lacedamonians sent Croesus a bronze vase in return, but Croesus never received it; there are two accounts of it: (1) Lacedaemonians claim Samians took it; (2) Samians claim Lacedaemonians came too late when Croesus was taken prisoner, so Lacedaemonians sold it.

71. Croesus led his forces into Cappadocia expecting to defeat Cyrus. Lyndian wise man Sandanis pleaded Croesus not to attack Cappadocia.

72. Cappadocians (known to Greeks as Syrians), geography of their kingdom.

73. Croesus wanted (1) the land of Cappadocia, (2) revenge for the wrongs of Astyages (this was "the chief reason"). Astyages (son of Cyaxeres, King of Medes) was dethroned by Cyrus, and is also Cyrus' brother in Law.

74–76. The history of Astyages becoming Croesus' brother-in-Law and source of problems with Cyrus.

76. Croesus pillages Pteria; Cyrus levies an army, fights Croesus.

77. Croesus blames not having enough men for his problems; Cyrus doesn't attack again, but asks for help from Babylon, Egypt. Croesus asks for help from his Allies, to meet at Sardis. Croesus disbands his mercenaries, permitting them to return home; Cyrus attacks, takes Croesus prisoner.

78. Croesus asks Telmussian seers their opinions of the numerous snakes.

79. Cyrus doesn't disband his forces, moves towards Sardis.

80. The armies fought in the plains before Sardis; Cyrus arranged camels, footmen, cavalry, and ordered Croesus to be taken alive "even if he offers resistance"; horses fear camels, causing Croesus' cavalry to retreat.

81. Sardis besieged, Croesus sends for help.

82. Spartans fought for Thyrea against the Argives and won.

83. Spartans went to aid of Croesus until they found out he was taken prisoner.

84. Cyrus discovered how messangers returned and left Sardis, took advantage of it, and sent his army in thus capturing Sardis.

95–130. Medes history, rise of Deioces, Phraortes, Cyaxares, and Astyages.

96–101. Deoices collected the Medes into a nation and ruled over them alone.

102. Phraortes (son and successor of Deioces) declared war on the Assyrians, died in the expedition.

103. Cyaxeres (son of Phraortes) organized Medes' army into companies, etc. Won a battle against Assyrains when horde of Scythians entered Median territory.

104. Scythians defeated Medians and took over their empire.

106–125. Background of Cyrus' birth, upbringing, etc.

106. Cyaxeres regained control by inviting Scythians to party, killing them after they passed out drunk.

107–108. Cyaxeres has vision, marries his daughter Mandane to the Persian Cambyses.

126–130. Cyrus overthrowing Cyaxeres by using the Persians, becomes ruler of the Persians.

131–140. Culture of the Persians.

141–176. Persian conquest of the Ionians.

141. Ionians and Æolians sent ambassadors to Cyrus at Sardis to become his lieges; Cyrus refuses on the grounds they didn't help Cyrus when help was needed. The Ionians begin fortifying their towns.

142. The climate, language, cities of Ionia.

143. Cyrus allied with Milesians; Phoenicians (as seafaring peoples) are fearless of non-seafaring Persians; Athens the only Ionic state "of mark".

144. Dorians exclusiveness with their temples; there are 5 other cities involved in this too.

145. The 12 cities of the Achaens.

146. The 12 divisions of Achaea.

147. Lycians or "bloog of Glaucus, son of Hippolochus, or…the blood of Codrus, son of Melanthus" are the kings of Ionians.

149. The cities of the Æolians; the Ionians "deprived" Æolians of Smyrna

150. Colophon cast out rebels plotting sedition; Smyrna welcomed them, and the rebels took over during a festival to Bacchus; Smyrnians were expelled to parts of Æolia, Ionians took Smyrnia.

152. Æolians and Ionians had Pythermus the Phocæn speak to Spartans for assistance, non was given; Lacrines (of Sparta) sent to Cyrus to deny "molestation" of any Greek city.

153. Cyrus reproached the Spartan, intending it for all Greeks. Cyrus inteded on war with Babylon, the Bactrians, the Sacæ, Egypt and left Pactyas (a Sardis native) to collect Croesus' treasure.

154. Pactyas induced his country to revolt, using Croesus' treasure to hire mercenaries.

155. Cyrus (upon being informed of revolt) asks Croesus if he should just ensalve all Lydians and sell them; Croesus says the fauly lies with Pactyas, so Pactyas alone should receive all punishment.

156. Cyrus orders Mazares (the Mede-ian) to sell all accomplices of Pactyas into slavery; Cyrus went off on his way.

157. Mazares (the Median general) marched to Sardis; Pactya et al. fled to Cymé; Mazares sent word to ask for Pactyas alone, changed Sardis manner of living. Cymæans ask oracle of Branchidæ for advice.

158. Oracle said give Lydians to Persians; Aristodicus (son of Heraclides) believes messanger is lying, demands another be sent asking the same question, Aristodicus went along too.

159. The oracle gave the same answer; God even told Aristodicus to cut the crap out and don't ask the same question anymore!

160. Pactyas was transported around, eventually given to Mazares.

161. Mazares sought to punish the cities aiding Pactyas, but suddenly contracted illness and dies..

162. Harpagus (another Mede) sent to replace Mazares; took cities "by means of mounds", first attacks Phocæ

163. Phocæans favored by Tartessus' king Arganthônius, who helped build the wall of Phocæ.

164. Harpagus laid siege to the town; Phocæans fled by boats ot Chios; Harpagus captured a vacant town.

165. Phocæans couldn't purchase Chios; more than half returned to Phocæ and were killed by Harpagus' garrison, the rest went to an old Phocæan colony Alalia on Cyrnus (Corsica).

166. Phocæans went to Alalia (on Cyrnus), Carthaginians and Tyrrhenians formed a league sent 60 ships against Alali; Phocæans won a Cadmeian victory (i.e. where victor hurts more than profits), lost 40 ships (of 60).

167. Fate of Phocæan prisoners; some Phocæans settled in Rheggium (southern Italy).

168. Teians (of Teos) fled to Thrace.

169. All other Ionians resisted Harpagus, ended up in servitude.

170. Bias of Priêné (a wise man) suggested Ionians set up a pan-Ionian state on Sardinia; Thales of Miletus (a Phenician) suggested setting up one centered in Teos.

171. Harpagus attacks the Carians, the Caunians, and the Lycians; the history of the Carians.

172. The history of the Caunians.

173. The Lycian's history.

174. The Carians surrender to Harpagus without fighting; Caundians attempted to make their country an island, but stopped due to the Oracle of Delphi; Caundians surrender to Harpagus without a blow.

176. Lycians fought, outnumbered, retreated with the city walls, and had everyone and their treasures moved into the citadel, then burned the citadel down (with everyone and everything inside).

177. Cyrus meanwhile is conquering everything in his path, focusing on Assyria.

178–187. Babylon and its History.

178. Babylon is the most renown and strongest city in Assyria.

179. The moat and walls of Babylon.

180. The Euphrates river divides Babylon in two.

181. There is an outer wall, an inner wall, and at the center of both halves a fortress.

185–187. More on the history of Babylon.

★188–192.★ The Battle of Babylon.

193–194. The canal system and agriculture of Assyria.

195. The dress of the Babylonians.

196–200. The Babylonian customs.

201. Cyrus' desire to conquer the Massagetæ.

202–203. Geography of Massagetæ and surrounding lands.

204. Reason for Cyrus' desire for conquest.

205. Queen Tomyris rules Massagetæ after her husband's death; Cyrus tries courting her and fails.

206. Tomyris calls on Cyrus to quit his militaristic bridge-building.

207. Croesus urges Cyrus not to continue conquering, no one wins forever, but pushforward anyways.

208. Cyrus takes Croesus' advice, invades Massagetæ.

209. Cyrus has dream his son Darius is plotting against him.

210. Hystaspes sent back to keep an eye on Darius.

211. Cyrus leaves reserves; Spargapises (son of Tomyris) leads 1/3 of Massagetæ army, captures Cyrus' reserves, then gets drunk; Cyrus returns, capturing or killing all of Spargapises' forces.

212. Tomyris, pissed, demands her son be released.

213. Spargapises is released, and immediately kills himself.

214. Tomyris confronts and defeats Cyrus; Cyrus is killed in the battle.

215–216. Culture of the Mssagetæ.

Book II

1. Cambyses (Cyrus' son) takes the throne, considers Ionian and Æolian Greeks his subjects.

2. Egyptians believe Phrygians the oldest "race".

3. Heliopolitans reputed for knowledge of Egyptian history.

4. Egyptians use the solar calendar.

5–34. Geography of Egypt, its origin, dimensions, and boundaries.

19–34. The Nile River.

19. The Nile starts to rise at the summer solstice, and continues for 100 days, then it contracts and continues low until the next summer solstice (so it's low during Winter). But why?

20. One theory is the Etesian winds cause the river to rise.

21. A second theory: the Nile acts strangely because it flows from the ocean, and the oceans flows all around the world.

22. A Third theory: the inundation of the Nile is caused by the melting of snows.

35–98. Customs of Egypt.

85–89. The various processes of embalming.

99–182. The History of Egypt.

99–146. The History of Egypt according to the Egyptians.

99. Mên (a.k.a. Menes, the first king of Egypt) constructed the dyke which protects Memphis from the inundations of the Nile. He also built the temple of Vulcan which stands within the city, "a vast edificie, very worthy of mention".

100. From a list of 330 monarchs, 18 were Ethiopian kings, and one was an Egyptian queen (who bore the same name as the Babylonian princess named "Noticris").

101. The other kings were of little note, leaving nothing behind, except Mœris (aka, Amenemhat III). He built the northern gateway of the temple of Vulcan, had excavated and created an artificial lake, and the pyramids built by him in the lake.

102–110. Sesostris' reign as king.

125. Construction of the Pyramids.

147–182. The History of Egypt according to others.