A Conversation of Conversations: Summary of Departmental Research Seminar, ‘Portrayals of ‘Intellectuals’ in the Ancient World: Otium and Civil Society, by Reviel Netz’
On Thursday 28th October, the Classics Department welcomed external speaker Reviel Netz of Stanford University, as part of the seminar series ‘Portrayals of ‘Intellectuals’ in the Ancient World’. The quotation marks are no mistake: this series attempts to dissect the identity and presentation of intellectuals and their ideas in ancient society. Specifically targeting what we mean by the term ‘intellectual’ and how it fits into antiquity, Netz’s talk also discussed the impact this had on the elite culture of early modern Europe and the debt this civil society owes to the ancient world.
Netz opened his lecture with guidance on how to locate a cultural prototype of the modern ‘intellectual’ figure, as it was created in 1898. This template, as outlined by Jürgen Habermas in his 1964 publication, can be found in the new institutions of the bourgeois’ public sphere: British coffee houses between 1680–1730, and the Parisian salons between regency and revolution. In these “societies of speech, constituted by conversation”, as Netz deemed them, polite conversation resonating with political and intellectual energy was central to the process of European enlightenment. Salons were perceived as the epitome of civil society, and offered a means for the aristocracy to exchange critical ideas and establish their intellectual identity by linking themselves with the great thinkers of the classical past. It is, however, particularly interesting to note that this developing culture of intellectual freedom was not exclusive to men. As Marguerite Buffet outlines in the Nouvelles observations sur la langue Françoise: “It seems that they [elite women] carry with them, like a new Tullia, all the treasures of speech… just as the same as the greatest Roman orators”. This immediate link, Netz suggested, to ancient politicians highlights the ‘live-action role-play’ emerging in early modern cultural life, where the key theme of discussion was passing judgement on contemporary cultural phenomena in comparison with classical models. This concept ties together with civil society, where culture is not a major form of commodity but instead a significant vehicle for one’s elite status.
The lecture then delved into attempting to answer two pivotal questions. The first, on
whether modern civil society actually owes anything to antiquity, arguably rests
on huge stakes: the significance of the classical legacy for the forging of enlightened Europe. Although talk in the coffee houses and salons was focused on the figures and events of the ancient world, Netz argues that the transpiring new society, the rise of the bourgeoisie, was independent of the actual subject matter discussed, and transcended the political fissures around which conversation bubbled. Instead, bonding of a new culture took advantage of what was available, a neutral literary kernel which would keep intellectual discussion and progressive thought alive. Netz posed an interim query: did it matter that classical culture was what was available or preferable to the elite of the time? Or would any discursive topic have had the same impact?
Following this, Netz invited the audience to question what a civil society of antiquity involved, and how it differed from that of early modern Europe. Classically, civil society (societas civilis) was one with the state; it required ‘good citizenship’, and due to the belief that humans were inherently rational suggested the resolution of conflict through public argument. The concept was introduced by Cicero, and could be observed in 6 of his letters to Atticus where he quotes the Iliad. Just as intellectuals in the coffee houses embodied the Renaissance attitude of becoming like-ancients, classical antiquity was about amalgamatingly positioning oneself against others, inserting oneself into ancient debates, and historical events — both real and mythological, reviving them all to extend into the contemporary present.
The concept of otium, and what it entails, is often difficult to define. Typically it is understood as leisure, although during his exile, Ovid encapsulated it negatively in the epistulae ex ponto: “how inactivity spoils an idle body, how water acquires a taint unless it is in motion… whatever skill I had in shaping song is failing, diminished by inactive sloth” (1.5.5–6). Otium was, however, extremely significant within Cicero’s conception of civil society, providing space and temporal freedom from the privacy of a rural villa that offered a counter-reality to the personal and civic instability of the republic. On the other hand, a key tenet of ‘Roman-ness’ was to do, not write, so while engaging in otium may have served to weave the bonds of amicitia with fellow elite members, it was also considered slightly contrary to typical Roman behaviour. Despite this, it was certainly a direct model for the cultural life of Enlightenment Europe, in engaging with a literary canon which was removed from the political reality of the state, and ‘live-action role-playing’ it in order to construct a discursive space. Netz compared otium and civil society as of “the same genus, but different species”, in that they both illustrate a political and cultural divide, but ancient civil society involved a double life, pursuing politics in public, and culture in private.
Netz concluded the talk with a final question: did antiquity actually have ‘intellectuals’? Cicero is best remembered for role-playing Demosthenes in a re-enactment of the Phillipics. In this way, Netz suggested that the speeches remain canonical just as Cicero remains canonical — because he fills a required slot in the Roman canon which mimics the Greek one. This performance provides a key example of how the blocking of anti-state ideology depended solely on what the people in society liked: usually ironic and obliquely subversive jokes, created in the realm of otium. One attendee, however, pointed out that the divide between antiquity and early modern Europe is larger than evident, and how ancient political leading men behaved, even in private, did not necessarily need to be subversive. Plutarch’s Table Talks provided an idealised image of suitable conversation for polite society, focusing on how one can get ahead, and contributing to the ancient culture of debate which is preserved by the canonised legacy.
It is the consistent and unrelenting antithesis to the reality of the state which is seen to dominate intellectual discussion in these places. In the quaint Roman countryside villas and the European coffee houses, culture can be removed from political power. The most important act may not be questioning the legitimacy of these ‘intellectuals’ throughout history, but rather considering how we might learn from the words they wielded to empower civil society in its journey back to independent thought.
