Boethius and Sophia: Early Awakenings of the Archetypal Feminine in

Philosophy

Historical and Biographical Background

Boethius was born during an age of transition: the Ancient World was dying and the
Medieval World had not yet begun. Gregory of Tours, who chronicles this era, writes of
the decline of culture, literature, and philosophy in the lands of Gaul. He laments:

“Woe to our times, because the study of letters is dying out among us and no man is
capable of preserving in writing the doings of the present.” (1) During this time it was in
the East that philosophy and theology continued to develop into formative doctrine.
Edmund Reiss explains:

“Not only was the great literary and philosophical heritage of classical Greece fast
becoming lost to the Latin West, but the Roman Church was increasingly at a lack in
understanding and participating in the theological debates that proliferated during the 5th
and 6th centuries.” (2)

The transformation of the social order, as barbarians took over the old Mediterranean
culture and social structure, caused great changes to the Roman world. Under the reign of
the Arian Ostrogoth king Theodoric, Italy did experience a period of peace and
prosperity, but the military and political power now lay in the hands of the king and his
Goth followers. Fortunately, Theodoric became a patron of the classical arts and under
his rule, Boethius enjoyed access to educational institutions and libraries.

Perhaps the principle importance of Boethius derives from the fact that he was the last of
the Latin-speaking scholars of the ancient world to be well acquainted with Greek.
Although the works of Jerome and Augustine abound in the echoes of Cicero, Virgil, and
Plato, much classic philosophey and literature began to disappear in the West during the
Merovingian Monarchy (the dynasty of the Frankish kings). After the demise of
Boethius, the West was lacking in anyone with first-hand knowledge of Greek
philosophy until Aristotle’s works were rediscovered in the 12 th century, largely from
Arabic sources.

Boethius was born into a family that had held many high offices of state during the 4th
and 5th centuries. He won the favor of King Theodoric and eventually became the head
of civil service. In 520, he was granted the honorary title, Master of the Offices, which
would probably be equivalent to a prime minister today. Four years later, he was dead,
having been suspected of treachery by Theodoric and executed after a lengthy prison
term. He was celebrated as a martyr after his torture and execution. It was in prison that
he composed his most famous text, the Consolation of Philosophy, written without access
to a library, which nonetheless abounds in reminiscences of classical texts in which his
mind had been soaked since he was a child. It is generally believed that Boethius studied
in Athens or Alexandria in his youth. Let us briefly examine his works.
In his early adult life, Boethius set out to translate into Latin all of the writings of Plato
and Aristotle, a task he was never able to complete due to his short life. Like Gregory of
Tours, fearing the collapse of the Western Empire, he declared his fear “that many things
which are now known soon will not be.” (3) Boethius, it seems, had a salvage operation
to perform: preserving a brilliant past for a dying civilization. He composed many
treatises of his own on astronomy, music, geometry and arithmetic, collectively known as
the quadrivium, or “the quadruple road to wisdom.” (4) Shortly before his imprisonment
he finished his famous dissertation on the Trinity which Thomas Aquinas wrote a
commentary on many centuries later.

Using an Aristotelian approach which would become common to the Latin Scholastic
Fathers, Boethius addressed the ecclesiastical doctrine of the Trinity and the nature of
Christ in at least four treatises. Within the classic terminology of Aristotelian categories,
Boethius described the unity of God in terms of substance, and the three Divine Persons
in terms of relation, much like Gregory of Nyssa. Etienne Gilson has noted that:

“It is Boethius’ ‘De duabus naturis’, that is to say, in a treatise on the two natures in
Christ, that there occurs that definition of the person that inspired the whole Middle
Ages…It was in order to know whether [he] had the right to apply it to God that…St.
Thomas [Aquinas] examined and explored the definition of Boethius.” (5)

In all of his works, whether, philosophical, scientific or theological, Boethius draws

from Platonic, Aristotlelian, and Neoplatonic sources. His primary influence for his work
on the Trinity was Augustine, and therefore this work is highly Platonic. Like Plato,
Boethius writes with the mind of a poet, yet he is balanced by the rational conscience of
Aristotle. In his discussions of Porphyry (the principle disciple of Plotinus) Boethius
launched the great medieval debate of the nominalists and the realists on the subject of
universals. Plato had held that universals—the archetypes—had to be real, albeit they
were incorporeal. Aristotle proclaimed that universals were mental concepts
(nominalism). Boethius attempted to reconcile the opposing positions by suggesting that
immaterial universals nonetheless subsist in matter.

Before the beginning of Theodoric’s reign, the communion between East and West had
been broken and it remained so for 35 years. Relations between the two churches had
been cool since the Emperor Zeno had issued the document known as Henotikon in 482.
Since Theodoric was an Arian, he took no interest in the theological distinctions that
separated Rome and the Byzantine world. The Henotikon was devoted to reconciling the
dogmatic differences which had evolved since the Council of Chaldedon in 451, and in
essence meant, “act of union”. This union, however, was actually forced, as Zeno
promulagated it without the approval of Rome. The Henotikon avoided any statement
concerning whether Christ had one or two natures, since Zeno was attempting to please
both Chalcedonians and non-Chalcedonians. In the end, the document failed to satisfy
either group. During the schism, the Pope condemned the Byzantine Patriarch Acacius
and had no interest in Byzantine political support. During this period Rome adhered
loyally to its new Gothic over-lords. However, those who were still interested in the unity
of the churches, which no doubt included Boethius, “deplored this dissension”. (6)
Boethius, determined nonetheless to serve Theodoric loyally, inevitably recognized the
Arian Gothic regime as a bitter necessity in view of the general political and social
decline. Finally, after the healing of the schism, a new alliance between Rome and
Constantinople developed. This must have appeared threatening to Theodoric, who grew
increasingly concerned over the welfare of his fellow Arians in the East under the
Emperor Justin. When Catholics again saw the Byzantine emperor as their overlord, the
Goths began to be regarded as a hostile enemy of occupation, and heretics besides. In the
late ancient world, doctrinal disputes were often inseparable from politics, and no doubt
Boethius found himself in a disconcerting and ambivalent situation, as Edmund Reiss
explains:

“Regardless of how effective Boethius may have been as transmitter of ancient learning
or as clarifier of Christian doctrine, it was as Theodoric’s Master of the Offices where he
could actively work to effect a meaningful unification of East and West, that he was able
to restore the prestige of Rome and achieve harmony within the Church…[However]
anything he did to link Rome to the Empire would necessarily have been construed as
being against the interests of the Goths…[and] of Theodoric, in particular.” (7)

During the tumultuous 6th century, as the ancient world was dying, Boethius must have
been overwhelmed by the excess of evil in the world, of which he no doubt felt he was a
primary victim. He found himself accused of treason and awaiting execution, not long
after achieving the most prestigious honor that anyone of his generation was able to
accomplish. In the Consolation, Boethius says that forged letters and perjured testimony
were used against him, including the claim that he was seeking the assistance of spirits,
i.e., practicing magic. In reality, this may have been an allusion to the astrological
metaphors used in some of his Platonic dialogues. We do not know the exact accusations
against him. Von Campenhausen believes that Boethius was simply accused of wishing
to protect the Senate, then very unstable, on his own. (8)

After the fall of Boethius a dreadful sequence of events followed which fell as a dark
shadow on the last years of the Gothic reign. The relationship between the Goths and the
Romans continued to deteriorate. Theodoric’s last years were marked by growing
suspicion and distrust, as the fragile union of Romans and Goths he had forged with such
care unraveled before him. After King Theodoric’s death the thirty years ‘struggle for
Rome’ ensued; Roman culture and traditions began to slip away entirely. “Henceforth,
there was no ancient aristocracy, no Roman state, no consuls, and no philosophy; the
Dark Ages were beginning.” (9)

It has been suggested that if Theodoric had followed the example of the King of the
Franks before him—King Clovis—whose sister Theodoric had married, he may have
successfully converted the Goths from Arianism to Catholicism or Orthodoxy and not
only would Italy probably have been spared the forthcoming horrors of war with the
Empire and the later conquest by the Lombards, but the program of Boethius to restore
classical culture may well have been successful. (10)
After Boethius died, his fellow senator, Cassiodorus documented his life and his works.
A foremost Boethian scholar, John Marenbon, tells us that in the Cassiodorean edition of
Boethius’ work, the personification of the Wisdom -woman is depicted with “the traits of
the biblical Wisdom, herself often identified with Christ.” (11) For several centuries,
Sophia (which I will here refer to as Philosophia, or ‘Lady Philosophy’), was viewed as a
figure upholding the Christian interpretation of the world. However, in the 10th century,
the monk Bovo pointed out that there were elements in the Consolation ‘contrary to
Catholic faith’ (12) and that Boethius may, in fact have been more influenced by the
pagan philosophers than the Christian faith he explicitly defended in his other works.

As the centuries progressed, and the Consolation was printed and re-interpreted many
times over, the general consensus began to shift, then, from perceiving it as a Christian
text to a Platonic one. However, although it was most often thought to reflect the creed of
Plato or Plotinus, it is nowhere glaringly incongruous with basic Christian values. We
will examine the problem of why a Christian writer would abandon his roots in a salvific
faith and to return to the cool reason of pagan philosophy later in this lecture.

In the Consolation, Boethius uses very little of his Aristotelain logic and relies on
Platonic dialogues, which through the archetypal image of Philosophia, restores to him
the recollection that the highest Good (the Platonic notion of God) is what ultimately
controls an unjust universe. The figure of Wisdom-Sophia invites him to withdraw into
the impregnable citadel of his soul and thus to find a harmony working within the secret
order of the world. Let us examine the five books of the Consolation and see how this
happens.

The Consolation of Lady Philosophy

The Consolation of Philosophy consists of verse passages (poetry) alternating with

passages of prose. Like the Confessions of Augustine, the movement in the Consolation
is from passion to reason, and from the personal to the universal. It became a great work
of art, in other words, because the autobiographical elements of the narrative essentially
act as a springboard for the timeless tale of a soul lost in the confusion of a world which
has abandoned it. Philosophia, or Lady Wisdom, with whom the prisoner dialogues
throughout the treatise, acts as a kind of soul-doctor, implying that unhappiness is cured
by dispelling ignorance and illusion. The dialogue reveals the Stoic influence on
Boethius, for Lady Wisdom implies that despite the external conditions wherein one
find’s oneself, no real evil can be inflicted upon the soul: the only main evil was to fail to
do the right thing. Therefore happiness must consist in attaining virtue which is
completely one’s own and does not derive from anyone else’s power. The conversation
between Boethius and Lady Philosophy proceeds from the initial lament over the
prisoner’s immediate situation to the larger issues of alienation, mutability, value and
world order.

Initially we envision Boethius sitting alone in his cell, musing over his adversities.
Imprisoned and despairing, he suddenly receives a theophany, or vision of his former
teacher, Philosophia, who initially appears as a very imposing figure:“a woman of
majestic countenance whose flashing eyes seemed wise beyond the ordinary wisdom of
men.” (13) When she raised herself to her full height, “she penetrated heaven itself,
beyond the vision of human eyes.” On her dress is woven the image of a ladder or stair,
which contain, at the bottom, the Greek letter pi, and at the top, the Greek letter theta.
She appears carrying a septre and books and she begins to chide him for his miserable
state of mind: “You have forgotten yourself a little, but you will quickly be yourself
again, when you recognize me.” He suffers from lethargic depression and she has come
to heal him. She tells him, “I am not so much disturbed by this prison as by your
attitude,” and she proposes that he end his exile and return again to the mind’s native land
through self-knowledge, which will reveal to him again the purpose of things and the
lawful ordering of the world.

Boethius continues to protest, however, giving an account of his public career and the
incidents leading to his present misery. He complains that the conduct of humans and
mutable fortune appear to stand outside the lawful pattern of divine love: “we wallow
here in the stormy sea of fortune.” She reminds him that her greatest disciples (such as
Socrates) suffered at the hands of the wicked; but the wise are able to rise serenely above
good and bad fortune. She ends her discourse by explaining that he is confused because
1, “you have forgotten who you are,”
2, “you are ignorant of the purpose of things,” and
3. “you have forgotten how the world is governed.” In subsequent chapters of this
discourse, she will attempt to explain why this is so, and the remedy for his illness.

With Book Two, the nature of Fortune has morphed into a goddess, who turns her
unpredictable Wheel of Fate, which wreaks such havoc in men’s lives. C. S. Lewis
comments that here “we embark on that great apologia for Fortuna which impressed her
figure so firmly on the imagination of succeeding ages.” (14) Lady Philosophy explains
that it is Fortuna’s nature to be changeable for, “she neither hears nor cares about the
tears of those in misery.” Everyone enters the world naked and is nourished by her in
many ways, and when the time comes, she again withdraws her favors. No one who has
ever known Fortune can ever trust her again, for she is capricious and her only certain
characteristic is her mutability.

Boethius acknowledges that she is right and laments that the worst sorrow of the soul is
remembrance of lost joys. Philosophia reminds him that a person’s life is a temporary
pilgrimage and to pin one’s happiness on good fortune is the height of folly; for true
happiness is always found within. “Even if the gifts of Fortune were not momentary and
uncertain, there is nothing about them that can ever really be made your own.” In the
final analysis, Lady Philosophy argues that misfortune is actually more beneficial than
good fortune, for good fortune enslaves, but bad fortune frees from bondage by revealing
the fragile nature of earthly things. C. S. Lewis sees the Boethian legacy apparent here:

“His work here…in full harmony with the book of Job…is one of the most vigorous
defenses ever written against the view, common to vulgar pagans and vulgar Christians
alike…[which interpret] variations of human prosperity as divine rewards or
punishment.” (15)
In the next chapter, Book Three, Philosophia explains some of the greatest traps which
deceive us and lure us toward a fickle happiness: riches, honor, power, fame, bodily
pleasure. “Fix your gaze on the extent, the stability, the swift motion of the heavens, and
stop admiring these base things,” she says. Her argument then explicitly points to the
only whole and perfect good: God. In the Consolation’s most famous poem, she invokes
the perfect Creator of the universe in song:

“O God, Maker of heaven and earth, who governs the world with eternal reason, you
place all things in motion…you order the perfect parts in a perfect whole…you release
the world-soul throughout the harmonious parts of the universe as your surrogate,
threefold in its operations, to give motion to all things…Burn off the fogs and clouds of
earth and shine through in Thy splendor. For Thou art the serenity, the tranquil peace of
virtuous men. The sight of Thee is beginning and end; one guide, leader, path and goal.”
(pp.53-54, Green)

After having thus reminded the prisoner of what true happiness is, she offers a simple
deduction: “Since men become happy by acquiring happiness, and since happiness is
divinity itself, it follows that men become happy by acquiring divinity.” Although
couched in the verse of the classical Platonic metaphor of the lost soul returning to its
homeland, are there not also echoes in this assertion of that famous declaration of
Athanatius: “Christ became man so that man may become god?” (16) It is here, in the
middle of Boethius’ great work that Lady Philosophy herself glorifies God, redefines the
prisoner’s exile as a spiritual rather than a physical deprivation, and restores to Boethius
the memory of the unimportance of worldly fortune when compared with a heavenly
destiny. Book Three ends with the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. Philosophia’s aim is
thus to caution Boethius not to look back to the mutable world of Fortune.

Book Four begins with Boethius acknowledging the truth of Philosophia’s doctrine, but
then asks why there is evil in a world governed by an omnipotent God. Philosophia
replies that all is justice. The good are rewarded, just as the wicked are punished by the
mere fact of who and what they are. In addition, the wickedness of others can never
deprive the righteous of their glory. The wicked try to attain the good by ineffectual
means because they are blinded. Ultimately evil, since it is a negation of true being, will
suffer from a lack of existence itself. “Therefore, if you fix your attention on Providence
as the governor of all things, you will find that the evil which is thought to abound in the
world is really nonexistent.” Then Lady Philosophy compares the relationship of
Providence to individual souls with spheres which orbit around a central point. By
following the wheel or sphere back to its center, the prisoner will no longer be tossed
about on its periphery, but will enjoy once again the freedom that increases when he finds
himself at the stable center which is Providence. Here alone, and not in the tumultuous
moving spheres, subjected to Fate, will he again find happiness.

The concluding book of the Consolation addresses the difficult problem of Divine
Providence and free will. Von Campenhauser calls this “the great theological theme of
his century.” (17) For, if God sees all things and therefore knows my actions in advance,
how am I free to exert my own will? Lady Philosophy explains that reasoning about
divine foreknowledge and human freedom is a specifically human process, which
advances through distinct steps from premises to conclusions. It’s perspective is
necessarily partial and temporal. But pure Intelligence, which belongs to God alone,
coincides with an eternally simple vision. God’s being and therefore, God’s eternity is
“the whole, perfect, and simultaneous possession of endless life.” Therefore “God sees as
present those future things which result from free will.” By fusing the theme of
perspective with that of time and eternity, Philosophia dissolves Boethius’ dilemma about
divine prescience and free will. The freedom of the human will remains inviolate and
continuously imposes upon us the obligation to ever strive for virtue.

In the final analysis, then, the point is not about the innocence of Boethius but about the
justice of God and the unknown ways of God, finally affirming that everything which
occurs in God’s creation is for the best. In the Consolation, Boethius has given us an
exercise in interior existential psychotherapy, focusing on the human being’s search for
meaning in a world of suffering. Indeed, Boethius suggests that meaning comes with
insight, which Lady Philosophy provides. Boethius’ illness is marked by the psychic split
between the various perspectives personified as the prisoner and Philosophia. The healing
of this split consists in the unification of these initially opposed viewpoints, the reflective
symbol of which is the unity of Divine Intelligence, which is the telos that emerges in
Book Five.

Boethius’s Influence and the Understanding of the World-Soul in the Medieval Era

Translations of the Consolation appeared in the ninth century by King Alfred, and
continued to appear in literature throughout Europe, including the poet Jean de Meun in
the 13th century; Chaucer, in the 14th century, Queen Elizabeth’s translation in the 16 th
century, and various translations in the Byzantine world. Dante was so influenced by
Boethius that he placed him in Paradise, next to Augustine and Aquinas. (18) It has been
noted that in the twelfth-century, the influence of Boethius reached its peak. His works
became central to nearly every syllabus and he was a hallmark of the medieval schools.
In addition, Consolation was one of the few books available for both lay persons and
scholars.

One of the most influential commentaries on Boethius was written by William of

Conches in the 12th century. He also wrote a commentary on Plato’s Timaeus, espousing
the classic Platonic doctrine that Nous (Intelligence) was above all the faculties of the
soul, and alone that which enables it to perceive the incorporeal. Plato’s doctrine of pre-
existence emphasizes the forgetfulness of the soul of her former home. The cosmology of
the Neoplatonic world-view during this era posited a triple process of cognition. The
lowest was based on sense perception; the second was illumination in the individual soul
of forms or ideas in the World-Soul; and thirdly, through the intuition, which had as its
object, Nous, or Divine Mind. Above all these lay the Love and Knowledge of the One.

Anna Crabb identifies the central Platonic theme of Boethius’ Consolation:

“It is not just the material world in general, but actual imprisonment and exile, perhaps
even physical chains and certainly physical death toward which he must learn
indifference in order to return to his former…state.” (19)

She notes that the stairs depicted upon Philosophia’s robe link the pi and the theta in a
motif of ascent; as the vicissitudes of politics and the sensible world are left behind,
attention turns toward contemplation of the pursuit of knowledge and enlightenment. (20)

William of Conches was perhaps the first commentator to note that the pi and theta on
Philosophia’s robe represent the realms of practice and theory—that is, knowledge which
is grounded in both the material world and its experiences (practice) and the spiritual
world and its metaphysical truth (theta). The ascent begins on the practical physical plane
and moves upward to ‘theoria’, the liminal realm of spirit. Pi and theta are the first letters
of the Greek words “Practical” and “Theoretical”, the two divisions of Philosophy. In the
Greek numeral system, theta has a value of 9. It was believed to have been used in
classical Athens as an abbreviation for the Greek “thanatos” or death; potsherds have
been found with the letter theta inscribed on them. It is believed they were used by the
ancient Athenians to vote for the death penalty. There is thus a double meaning of the
letter’s appearance on the top of Lady Philosophy’s dress, indicating that the soul must
pass through its portal to attain enlightenment (Divine Wisdom) in its home in the
afterlife.

In a Neoplatonic cosmology, a fragmentation of the primal unity and stability implies a

fall into alienation, much as in gnosticism. However, to late medieval Christian thinkers,
the visible universe was seen as a manifestation of God, who, consistent with Biblical
doctrine, made all things good. William of Conches wrote that “in the creation of things,
divine Power, Wisdom, and Goodness are beheld.” (21) These attributes, which are
fundamental to Platonic cosmological thought, are perceived by William and diverse
other philosophers of this era as well, as an expression of the Trinity.

For William, the archetypal world was identified with the Word (Logos): “the divine
wisdom which is called the archetypal world…immutable, eternal, pure, in which are
contained intelligible living creatures.” (22)

However, it is the World-Soul which is seen as the principle of harmony and movement
in life, the force which ensures the link between the intelligible and the sensible. For
William, this divine principle was the Holy Spirit, whose task it was to ensure the
“movement of life, and harmony of the all, uniting ‘individual’ and ‘divided’ nature—
spirit and bodies—the same and the different…while remaining unique in itself.”(23) It
has been postulated by Tullio Gregory that the debate about the World-Soul in various
forms dominated the whole of 12th century philosophy.

William, who was a pupil of Bernard of Chartres, went on to teach Platonism and
Christian theology in the schools of Paris. In his interpretation of Boethius, William
taught that like Augustine before him, when understood correctly, Platonic doctrine is in
accordance with basic Christian truth. William also alluded to the parallels with Lady
Philosophy and Biblical Wisdom. William’s treatises were peppered with Greek gods,
but he used pagan mythology, like Boethius, as allegory: “the fictional garment…was
supposed to clothe profound moral doctrine.” (24) However, sometime around 1122, he
was warned by William of St. Thierry that his apparent identification of the Holy Spirit
with the World-Soul would lead to heresy.

It is probably that William’s speculations about the World-Soul, as well as his other
Platonic interpretations regarding cosmology and the natural sciences, were motivated by
a desire to discover the unifying principle that held the world together. Dorothy Elford
explains:

“The particular attraction of the world-soul as a cosmological principle was that,

stemming as it does directly from God, it could guarantee the relationship not only
between different levels of existence but also between the world and its source.” (25)
William, indeed much of the school of Chartres, found great inspiration in the concept of
the World-soul, which joined the concrete world to the world of Ideas. The regular
motion of the world, evident in the sublime movement of the celestial spheres, revealed a
rational design. The world, as a vast living thing, was possessed of self-movement, and
this seemed to imply it has a soul. (26)

This is important for our discussion because this mediating role—i.e., the understanding
of the world-soul in numerous medieval Christian thinkers—is one which repeatedly
accrues to the function of Sophia in the continued evolution of sophiological thought.
Indeed, in the philosophical poetry of the later 12th century, Nature becomes, like
Boethius’ Philosophia, a goddess, a manifestation of Wisdom. But in the medieval
Christian world, this would inevitably turn out to be problematic.

Peter Abelard and Hugh of St. Victor also wrote about the relationship between the
World-Soul and the Holy Spirit. In Hugh of St. Victor’s homily on Ecclesiastes, he talks
about the World-soul as a fiery spirit:

“we may—not inappropriately—take this ‘spirit’ to be the fiery force which, proceeding
from the sun itself, infuses itself in all things, and permeating them all invisibly, animates
and moves them.” (27) Abelard identified the World-soul as a ‘beautiful figure of
involucrum’, the allegorical veil for divine truth, in this case meaning the third person of
the Holy Trinity. The Council of Sens condemned the thesis of Abelard that the Holy
Spirit is the World-soul, and William of St. Thierry, following his suppression of
Abelard’s work, then openly pursued his attack on William of Conches. He characterized
William as dangerously promoting a new theological understanding of the Trinity, and
rejecting the literary story of the creation of Eve from Adam’s rib as well.

It appeared that the concept of the Platonic World-Soul was too pantheistic to be
integrated into Christian metaphysics. Pantheism was a heresy, which numerous other
writers from the Paris schoool were also accused of promoting, (28) and even extended to
a ban on the teaching the works of Aristotle, which were eventually condemned as well:
“Neither the books of Aristotle, on natural philosophy nor the commentaries shall be read
at Paris publicly or secretely and we forbid this under penalty of excommunication…”
(ibid,) In any case, William, who did not want to become embroiled in dogmatic
theological controversies, abandoned his study of theology and turned his attention to the
study of nature. His major work, “Philosophy of the World,” written in 1125, is
remarkable for its conception of nature as an instrument of divine operation, whose order
guarantees the constancy of things: “The work of nature is to bring forth like things from
like through seeds or offshoots, for nature is an energy inherent in things and making like
from like.” (29) When he withdrew his attention from theological matters, William
asserted his independence of patristic authority, by proclaiming that it was not necessary
to invoke the omnipotence of God as an explanation of natural phenomenon. Rather, God
empowers nature to produce effects and therefore one should seek the cause of those
effects in nature. For example, although God could perfectly well make it something else,
an acorn invariably develops into an oak tree. These speculations are found in William of
Consches’ Dragmaticon (30)

Marie-Dominique Chenu has observed that “the Christian contemplating the world is torn
by a double attraction: to attain God through the world, the order of which reveals its
creator, or to renounce the world, from which God is radically distinct.” (31) In an era
initiated by Boethius and enormously influenced by him, the tension was resolved in
favor of the first option. Scholars who followed Boethius (William of Conches, Hugh of
St. Victor, Alan of Lille) proposed the view of a homogeneous, non-hierarchal cosmos,
where nature itself acquired a spiritual significance. Matter was no longer the opposing
principle which it had so readily appeared to be for the earlier Christian interpretation of
the Timaeus. There was dignity and divinity in nature, for what God had created “was
good.” Chenu notes that “many…nourished by the Consolation of Philosophy…used this
supreme intelligible Reality to explain the sense-perceptible world and not merely to
mount toward Being that is self-existent and divorced from the world.” (32) To affirm the
unity of spirit and matter depended ultimately on the ability of the human spirit to know
both, i.e., to apprehend in nature a knowledge of the universal, which participated in
divinity. For Hugh of St. Victor, contemplation requires the use of the intellect, and is not
confined to mystical experience. Contemplation on the sensible world brings “an easy
and clearsighted penetration of the soul into that which is seen.” (33)

To know nature is to understand the self; and a study of nature would lead to a view of
natural law as a standard for the regulation of the social and moral order. The symbolic
emphasis of the pi and theta on Lady Philosophy’s robe, in representing both the realms
of practice and theory, remind the prisoner (and through him, us) that the stairs of
spiritual ascent begin here, that is, with knowledge grounded in physical experience. In
the balanced synergy of Boethius’ Aristotelian and Platonic perspectives, we glimpse his
remarkable ability to combine the realms of spirit and matter; and because Boethius had
bestowed to the natural sciences their state of autonomy, William of Conches and others
in succeeding generations could conclude that the world was a holistic and organic
ensemble, created in and through Beauty.

Boethius’ Philosophy: Christian or Pagan?

It has often been noted that what is missing in the Consolation is any explicit reference to
the Bible. The manner in which Lady Philosophy herself is commended by Boethius is in
presenting her arguments: she sticks to philosophy and does not employ revelation. In
his exile and his contemplation of death, Boethius makes no mention of the Incarnation
or the doctrine of grace—that which most Christians would find most meaningful. The
Boethian doctrine of redemption appears to be the “ascent of the unaided individual by
means of philosophical introspection and meditation.” (34) The opinion of both
Chadwick and von Campenhausen is that Consolation was composed by a Christian and
a Platonist, but it is not a Christian work.

Scholars have argued about whether Boethius’ last work is Platonic or Christian for
centuries. The single reference to the World-soul, right at the center of the work, during
the prayer in Book 3, caused, as we have seen, great confusion to many of the later
medieval commentators on the text. This reference aside, the most evident Platonic
theme in the Consolation appears to be the general interpretation that imperfections of the
world are allowed for the purpose of facilitating the return of the soul to its origin. (35) In
a Neoplatonic cosmology, a fragmentation of the primal unity and stability implies a fall
into alienation. Any system of thought based on emanation theory tends to produce
continuously inferior beings as part of the outflow from the point of origin., e.g.,the Deity
of Plotinus was absolutely transcendent and ineffable; it is from a hierarchy of powers,
such as Nous, World-Soul, Nature, etc. that multiplicity of finite things emanates.

However, for the early Fathers, if by ‘origin’ is meant a return to a pre-existent primal
unity with the One, it is inconsistent with Christian revelation. This is, in fact, the
principle heresy of Origen. Life is an evolutionary process of movement into the life of
God made possible through the Incarnation. Christian life now, and in eternity (as in
Gregory Nyssa), moves forward into a fuller maturity, because every antithesis to life has
been overcome by Christ. There is nothing of this in the Consolation. Yet, Boethius,
although resting upon Plato and Aristotle, adapts their principles to a universe governed
by a personal, caring God. It was precisely in an era which we often refer to as the ‘ages
of faith’ that the appeal of Boethius’ work was most strongly felt.

In his earlier treatises on the Trinity and on the Nestorian problem, Boethius had already
engaged in doctrinal disputes. Perhaps his statement of faith in several earlier works
stood in no need of repetition. Indeed, at the end of his treatise on the Trinity, he says it is
simply an apologetic in defense of an article “which stands by itself on the firm
foundation of faith.” (36)

Victor Watts believes there is little in the Consolation that is contrary to Christianity. He
points out that although much of his thought conforms to Neoplatonism, Boethius
however, “talks not of a supreme essence but of God: and he does not fill the gap
between God and his world by any elaborate series of ‘graded abstractions’. Boethius’
God is a personal God, a God to whom one can and should pray.” (37) In addition,
although Boethius mentions Plato and Aristotle in the Consolation, he never specifically
names any of the Neoplatonic philosophers who lived after Christ. Henry Chadwick
agrees that the “mythological jungle of pagan gnosticism” which characterizes the later
books of Proclus is discarded by Boethius.

Chadwick feels, however, that Boethius was very careful in how he constructed the
Consolation, for “this cycle of original being, emergence to otherness, and then reversion
to identity is latent in the structure of the Consolation itself. Hence it is no accident
that…he can state an exclusively Neoplatonic doctrine of redemption, which is
nevertheless capable of being read in a Christian sense with the minimum of force to the
text…Boethius is unlikely to have achieved this by chance or without careful thought.”
(38)

Robert McMahon feels that since Boethius was a Christian, he simply used those aspects
of Platonism consistent in Christian teaching; and there is little of Plato in the
Consolation that is not already found in Augustine. McMahon points out that “return to
the Origin may have a Neoplatonist ring to it, but for Augustine, it was [also] a
profoundly biblical and ecclesial reality. Within the ‘Confessions’ he treated
Neoplatonism as an incomplete Christianity” made complete only in the Bible. (39)

Etienne Gilson has made it clear that the Christian tradition’s influence on Boethius was a
most compelling factor in the way he develops his philosophy in the Consolation. What
Gilson calls Christian philosophy is: “every philosophy which, although keeping the two
orders formally distinct, nevertheless considers the Christian revelation as an
indispensable auxiliary to reason.” (40)

For Gilson, the elegance of Christianity lies in the fact that it is both a richly developed
epistomology, as well as an efficacious way of salvation. Today, we generally do not
think of philosophy as having a direct connection to salvation, because we consider
philosophy as belonging more to the sphere of science; however, for Boethius and the
medieval world which followed him, even Platonic and Aristotelian philosophy,
“although essentially science, was not merely a science but a [way of] life.” (41) The
Greek Stoics even adopted a distinctive type of dress similar to a priest or monk.
Furthermore, Gilson stresses that in a Christian universe nothing ever happens save in the
name of a rational order, that is, nothing happens by chance. Lady Philosophy explains
we can define chance as:

“an unexpected event brought about by a concurrence of causes which had other
purposes in view. These causes come together because of that order which proceeds
from inevitable connection of things, the order which flows from the source which is
Providence and which disposes all things, each in its proper time and place.”

Gilson acknowledges the debt to the Platonists in Boethius and the overwhelming
importance of the philosophical element in everything he wrote, including his theological
tractates; however, this is “precisely the reason why he is rightly considered as one of the
founders of scholasticism.” (42) Edward Grant’s opinion is that Gilson relys on the
‘handmaiden’ approach, which goes back to Clement of Alexandria, where “philosophy
is the handmaid of theology” (43) In the final analysis, I find myself agreeing with Joel
Relihan: ‘We cannot say that it is not Christian because it is not a catechism.” (44)
Boethius is much too complex a writer; and, as Relihan points out, if it in any way
resembles the genre of Wisdom literature “which gains its religious dimensions by its
placement in the religious context of the canons of Scripture, Consolation co-ops secular
traditions for religious purposes.” (ibid)

If this is so, in what way is the Wisdom tradition evident in this, the last work of an
exiled prisoner?

Lady Philosophy and the Wisdom Literature

Are there themes in the Wisdom literature that emerge in the Consolation? Certainly, it is
a hallmark of the Wisdom Literature that our everyday experiences in life become a path
to our understanding of God. Chadwick believes the Consolation is an essay in natural
theology apart from revelation (45) And surely the Wisdom tradition sees the splendor of
creation as a motive for praising God. (Wis 13; Sir 42: 14-43; Ps. 8; Job 38) Emergent
themes in the Wisdom texts are the beauty and order of the universe, a call for the people
of God to discern God’s purpose in the world, and a declaration that those who co-
operate with God by following God’s wisdom are in conformity with the order of
creation and those who choose the path of folly will end in ruin, for rejecting the way of
Wisdom leads to a return of the primeval chaos. The book of Job belongs to the Wisdom
tradition and a detailed comparison with Job and Boethius has been made by Ann Astell
(46) Astell sees the development of providential themes in the Consolation through Lady
Philosophy’s insistence of the human inability to envision the world from a divine
viewpoint. She believes that Lady Philosophy’s “final exortation to humble prayer”
encouraged medieval readers to supply what Boethius, revered as a Christian martyr, had
omitted by not referring in a more overt manner to the Job story. When Aquinas, on the
other hand, wrote his commentary on Job, he explicitly linked it to the Consolation.
Boethius however, does appear to paraphrase Job 1:21 in Consolation, Book 2, Prose 2,
when Lady Philosophy says that “nature brought you forth from your mother’s
womb…naked and devoid of everything.”

We noticed earlier that C.S Lewis also sees a clear Job theme in the Consolation. Job’s
story, like the prisoner of Boethius, is an account of an innocent human being who
initially questions the meaning of his suffering and who must earn a hard-won wisdom as
he comes to understand that the mutable world must always succumb to the majesty and
mystery of a God beyond comprehension. The stories do not explain why God chose to
design the world in the way that it is; rather the heroic pilgrim is only made aware of the
incommensurability of human and divine knowing. The conclusion of the Consolation is
the theodicity of the Job story. Both must admit to the inadequacies of the categories of
thought and accept the transcendence of God. As Astell comments, “’wisdom’ loses its
pragmatic, prudential associations and becomes instead the Pauline foolishness that
rejoices in the cross.” (1 Cor. 1: 18-23) (47) Joel Reilan stresses that there are other
allusions (48) to the Wisdom Literature besides the comparison with the Job story, one
that comes from the Wisdom of Solomon, which indeed personifies Lady Wisdom a
number of times.

And so we must ask, Who is the Wisdom Woman in the Consolation? Is the lady a
literary device, a philosophical abstraction, or a personification of the goddess: in
essence, a revelation? Kathyrn Lunch has noted that the visionary nature of the poetry of
Boethius has not been given the clarification it demands or deserves, (49), which may be
a problem that characterizes the analysis of the Wisdom tradition since the genesis of
exegetical commentaries. For now, we must simply wonder: why does the prisoner
awaiting execution turn to Lady Philosophy? Why a goddess? For it is Philosophia who
acts as the minister and healer of the soul, not Christ; it is she who bends over the
suffering disciple to soothe and strengthen him. Reilan clearly identifies a key factor
which emerges here: “it shows that the ability to know who one is, is strictly in the
province of anima, not ratio…” (50) For it is the anima which opens the soul to dreams
and visions, not reason. Lynch stresses that “for Philosophy’s disciple…insight occurs as
a matter of sight, revelation, or showing (italics mine); spiritual healing became a
precisely embodied event…For Boethius…a personal need—a need that went beyond
any previous writer’s to bring both human psychological reality and earthly experience in
accord with grace—played a great part in the vision experience.” (51).

Visionary experiences are—like pilgrimages—liminal or marginal in nature, experiences

“betwixt and between” what is familiar. Liminality, from the Latin, ‘limen’ means a
threshold and is always a quality of consciousness that implies that which is numinous in
archetypal psychology. In this interpretation, the prisoner’s initial epiphany is archetypal
in nature, having its precedent in literature of an earlier Hellenistic era (with which
Boethius would have been very familiar)—such as the vision of Isis in the
Metamorphoses of 2nd century Platonist Apuleius, or the vision (the “showing”) which
accompanied the Eleusinian Mysteries. The description of Philosophia at the beginning of
the text is painted in visionary language, e.g., her dreamlike changes in size and
appearance, her burning eyes or her combination of youth with great age. Marenbon feels
that her numinous appearance fits into a “tradition of divine manifestations” which
stretch as far back as Homer. (52)

Yet, as the goddess-like image of Lady Philosophy develops in the story, she is revealed,
not as a figure inspiring the awe one normally associates with a classic epiphany event in
religious literature (compare the ‘epopteia’, or visual culmination of the Eleusinian
Mysteries, with the classic visions of the medieval mystics), but rather as a psychopomp.
Frederick Brenk has rightly noted, that during the era of Middle Platonism, a vision, even
a direct intellectual vision of God was problematic. For “in the philosophical eschatology
of Plato, God [the demiurge] or gods are the guides or mystagogues, or fellow
visionaries, but not worthy as the object of visions itself.” (53) Rather, when Plato
speaks of a vision, it is directed toward the transcendent Idea of the Good or Beautiful,
ie., the initial Form. Later, in Plutarch, a human being’s intellect (Nous) is also one’s
daimon or guardian spirit, to which we must attend, if we are at all to benefit from our
sojourn on the earth. In Plutarch’s Isis and Osiris, we begin to see an identification of the
Good with the Supreme God, the vision of which is the soul’s goal and purpose. The
significant contribution of Plutarch, as Brenk notes, is not only that herein lies the telos,
i.e., the vision of God, but “the object of love [is] itself capable of returning love.” (54)
God’s creation is enough for God; however, the mystery of our world is that God creates
creatures out of love.

Surely, then, the telos of the Consolation is to urge the prisoner to seek, not wisdom, but
the highest Good. “As an exhortatio to philosophy, the Consolation is really an exhortatio
to God.” (55) Edmund Reiss has seen in the Consolation not only comparisons to several
other Neoplatonic treatises, including those by Plutarch and Iamblichus, but also, a
culmination of all of Boethius’ earlier work. “While earlier studies may have led to an
understanding of logic, the study of philosophy leads, as the Soliloquies of Augustine, to
the revelation of the nature of divinity. “ (56) Brenk has theorized that we rarely see any
of the philosophers of the Middle Platonic era unambiguously referring to a vision of God
as the telos of the soul because of the gap between the First and Second God (ie., the
Demiurge) (57) And Boethius certainly knew Plotinus, who said, “For one should behold
the source of the illumination.” This is the “veritable telos of the soul”. (58)

Lady Philosophy seems to be reticent about explaining in detail the operation of the
world; she says, rather, “I shall limit my discussion of the divine judgment to a few things
which human reason can comprehend.” In book Four, she even says she is not a god (or
goddess, depending on the translation). (Book 4, Prose 6) If Philosophia is not a goddess
or a lesser kind of god, an inferior kind of wisdom, then what is the point of her
revelation?

In Gilson’s classic History of Christian Philosophy in the Middle Ages he notes the case
“where Boethius says of the Sovereign Good that it ‘reacheth from end to end mightily
and ordereth all things sweetly.’” (59) Here Gilson believes the quote is undeniably a
citation from Wisdom 8:1, which was frequently quoted by Augustine. (60) Reilan muses
that if Philosophia clearly demonstrates that God is the highest Good and governs all
things [sweetly!] then “we must infer” that Boethius was indeed influenced by the
Wisdom text. This then is where the prisoner “begins to see the possibility of the
seamless integration of philosophy and revelation.” (61)

Although the books of Proverbs and Qoheleth offer instruction on living life in
moderation and acceptance of old age, loss of health and possessions, and death, as part
of the process of cyclical cosmic change, the Wisdom of Solomon confidently proclaims
God’s vindication for the just, beyond the horizon of mortal life and cyclical nature. This
text—which the post-Reformation church accepts only as apocryphal—was written in a
Hellenistic atmosphere, and also seems to accept the Platonic notion of the immortality of
the soul. Here, the Spirit of God is a feminine vitalizing principle, almost like the World-
soul of the Platonists, which is immanent in the universe.

Boethius would most certainly have been aware that the apocryphal Wisdom of Solomon,
often simply called the Liber Sapientia (The Book of Wisdom) personified Divine
Wisdom as feminine, consistent with both the Greek and the Latin translations of the
word, (ie., “sophia” and “sapientia”) Perhaps here, as Relihan notes, Boethius has “given
us his own version of Wisdom.” (62) In other words, it is possible that Boethius saw
Sophia as an accepted personification within the Christian tradition; therefore he felt—in
a very subtle way to be sure—he could use her in his own epic drama. For Kathryn
Lynch, however, the tradition which Boethius would draw upon to speak in visionary
language was the tradition of Neoplatonic dream theory. In particular, the dream image
provides an appropriate structure for the medieval era “because of its liminal character,
its ability to combine the realms of spirit and matter into a single experiential
phenomenon.” (63)

We have examined many viewpoints of Boethius’ main work, circling around the central
theme of the personification of Sophia. In conclusion, we can say that Boethius
synthesized the Platonic and Aristotelian elements of his Greek culture, and in doing so,
made a valuable contribution to the evolving philosophy of the medieval era. This is
important for the study of modern sophiology for a couple of reasons. What is most
obvious is that Lady Philosophy’s principle task in sustaining the marriage of the divine
order and natural circumstance was to help convince her prisoner of the basic integrity of
the world, despite the fickleness of fate. She does this by gradually making him conscious
of the ways in which Divine Providence was revealed in and through the physical world.
As we have seen, as medieval commentaries of Boethius’ Consolation emerge, they
would display a belief in the interpenetration of spiritual and physical realms, which even
included the possibility of knowing spirit through matter, particularly evident in the work
of William of Conches. Nature, in the metaphysics of the schools of 12th century Chartres
was not merely an allegory but an active force which presided at the birth of things and
sustained their continued evolution. In light of the deep influence of Aristotle on the
Scholastic fathers, Gilson poses an intriguing question. “How came it” Gilson asks, “
that, having followed the Platonic tradition for so long, the Christian thinkers gradually
yielded to the growing influence of Aristotle, and….finally defined the soul as a form of
the body?” [rather than the other way around]. In other words, as Lynch also indicates,
there is a reversal from balancing Plato with Aristotle in Boethius.

The second reason Lady Philosophy is an important contribution to the development of

our theme is that she becomes the numinous Mediator, a role Sophia seems to play
wherever and whenever she appears. Gilson acknowledges that, although Boethius does
not seek support directly from Scripture in the Consolation, it is because it is Lady
Philosophy who is speaking. (64) If the wisdom she embodies must necessarily be pagan
for Boethius, it is because divine mediation in the form of a goddess is not an unnatural
association in pagan’ philosophy. It is, as we have seen, a genre of allegory—and one
which frequently includes an analysis of the World-soul—which is woven throughout
numerous Platonic medieval texts.

Marenbon following Klingner, says that although Lady Philosophy is imagined by

Boethius to have “come down from the pole on high” (65), she acts only as an
intermediary. For Friedrich Klingner (66), who concludes that the Consolation is a sacred
dialogue, Lady Philosophy is an angel, leading him step by step back toward the
remembrance of God. However, unlike the divine mediation which has been
appropriated to Mary in numerous Christian Fathers, or the feminine Holy (Mother)
Spirit in the very early Church, by the time of the Western medieval world, it was heresy
to associate the World-soul (anima mundi) with the Holy Spirit. The Latin “spiritus”, in
any event, is no longer associated with the Hebrew “ruach” or the Greek “pneuma”; is
now a masculine Spirit, rather than a feminine Breath of God. Lady Philosophy may be
the persona of the ‘anima mundi’ but she is certainly not Christ or the Holy Spirit,
although she appears to embody some aspects of divine Wisdom.

The true Christian philosopher (or philosopher-mystic, as this is where our future studies
lead us) it seems, would necessarily have to reject all pantheistic elements from his or her
vision of Wisdom, or else leave her in the realm of pagan allegory. This is precisely what
happens in Henry Suso’s vision of Sophia, where Divine Wisdom becomes, once again,
Christ. In this case, however, the figure who appears as Christ must undergo a gender
reversal, as we will see in the next lecture.

End-Notes

1. Quoted in Let, Ferdinand. The End of the Ancient World and the Beginnings of the
Middle Ages. NY: Harper and Row, 1961. p. 371.
2. Reiss, Edmund. Boethius, Boston: Twayne Pub. 1982. p. 4.
3. quoted in Oxford History of the Classical World. Boardman, John, et al. NY: Oxford
University Press. 1986. p. 811.
4. quoted in Gilson, Etienne. History of Christian Philosophy in the Middle Ages. NY:
Random House. 1954, p 97.
5. Gilson, Etienne. The Spirit of Medieval Philosophy. Trans by A.H.C. Downes.
London: University of Notre dame Press. 1936, p. 204.
6. von Campenhausen, Hans. Men Who Shaped the Church. NY: Harper & Row. 1964
pp. 290-294.
7. Reiss, Edmund, Boethius. Twayne’s World Author Series. Boston: Twayne
Publishers: Duke University. 1982. pp.77- 78.
8. Men Who Shaped, p. 300.
9. ibid.,p. 299.
10. see Reiss, p. 78. Here he is paraphrasing Pierre Riche, Education and Culture in the
Barbarian west, Sixth through Eighth Centuries, Trans. J Contreni. Columbia: University
of south Carolina Press, 1976.
11. Marenbon, John. Boethius, Oxford University Press 2003. p. 174.
12. ibid.
13. The following quotations from Consolation are taken from: Green, Richard. The
Consolation of Philosophy: Boethius. Pearson Pub. 1962.
14. Lewis, C.S. Discarded Image, p. 81.
15. Discarded, p. 82.
16. I have not seen anyone else who has noticed the analysis comparing this text with the
Greek Christian theology of salvation except for Jaroslav Pelikan, see Mary Through the
Centuries, Yale University Press, 1998. p. 105.
17. Men Who Shaped, p. 311.
18. Marenbon, 2003, p. 180.
19. “Literary Design in the De Consolatione Philosophiae, Anna Crabb in Boethius, His
Life, Thought and Influence. Ed by Margaret Gibson. Oxford, England: Basil Blackwell ,
1981. p242 (pp237-274.
20. ibid, pp. 243-44.
21. quoted in, “Philosophy, cosmology and the Twelfth-century Renaissance” Winthrop
Wetherbee, in Peter Dronke ed, A History of Twelfth-Century Western Philosophy,
Cambridge University Press. 1988, p.25.
22. quoted in ibid, From “The Platonic Inheritance, Tullio Gregory, in Dronke, A History
of Twelfth-Century Western Philosophy. 1988, p. 61.
23. ibid, p. 68. See also Gregory, Tullio, Anima Mundi: La Filosofia Di Gu Glielmo Di
Conches E La Scuola Di Chartres) G. C. Sansoni 1955.
24. Aspects of Medieval French and English Tradition of the De Consolatione
Philosophiae, in Margaret Gibson, Boethius, ibid, p. 315.
25. Elford, Dorothy. “William of Conches.” In Dronke, 1988, p. 327.
26. see, Chenu, M D , Nature, Man and Society in the Twelfth Century. Edited and trans.
By Jerome Taylor and Lester Little. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1968, pages
18-24.
27. from Pergit spiritus, Hugh of St. Victor; quoted in Michael Lapidge “The Stoic
Inheritance” in Dronke, 1988, p. 109 pp 308-327.
28. Other prominent voices which were condemned at the Fourth Lateran Council in
1215 included Amaury of Bebe and David of Dinant, and John Scotus Eriugena. See
Haren, Michael. The Western Intellectual Tradition from Antiquity to the Thirteenth
Century. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. p. 147.
29. William of Conches Glossa in Timaeum, quoted in Chenu, Nature, pl 41.
30. see Tina Stiefel, The Intellectual Revolution in Twelfth-century Europe. NY: St.
Martin’s Press. 1985, esp. pp 79, 91-92.
31. Chenu, Marie-Dominique. Nature, Man and Society in Twelfth Century: Essays on
New Theological Perspectives in the Latin West. Ed and Trans: J Taylor & L.K. Little
(Chicago. 1968)
32. ibid, p. 97.
33 Hugh of St. Victor De Modo Dicendi et Meditandi, 8; quoted in Eco, Umberto. Art
and Beauty in the Middle Ages. Trans by Hugh Bredin. New Haven: Yale University
Press, 1986. p 10.
34.Victor Watts, trans. Boethius. Penguin Books 1999, p. xxxiii.
35. As Watts, explains: “…the ascent of the soul is not simply a process of education; it
is also one of remembering: and the Platonic basis of the Consolation is seen again in the
reference to this doctrine of anamnesis, or recollection…” Watts, trans. Boethius, p.
xxvi.
36. in deTrinitate, quoted in Reiss, Boethius, p. 61
37. p. xxxii
38. Chadwick, Henry. Boethius: The Consolations of Music, Logic, Theology and
Philosophy. Oxford; Clarendon Press, 1981, pp 221-222
39. p. 102 in, Understanding the Medieval Meditative Ascent: Augustine, Boethius,
Anselm, and Dante” Robert McMahon. Washington DC: Catholic University of America
Press. 2006
40. Gilson, The Spirit of Medieval Philosophy. Trans. A.H.C. Downes. London:
University of Notre Dame Press 1936.
p. 37.
41.ibid. p. 28.
42. History of Christian, p. 106.
43. Grant, Edward. God and Reason in the Middle Ages. Cambridge Univ. Press 2001,
p.32.
44. Relihan, Joel. The Prisoner's Philosophy. Life and Death in Boethius's Consolation.
Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007p.129.
45. Boethius, p. 251
46. Astell, Ann. Job, Boethius, and Epic Truth. Ithaca and London: Cornell University
Press. 1994.
47. Astell, p. 13
48. Relihan, p. 128
49. Lynch,Kathryn. The High Medieval Dream Vision: Poetry, Philosophy, and Literary
Form Stanford University Press. 1988
50 ibid p 110
51. ibid.p54.
52. Boethius, 2003, p 153
53. Brenk, S.J.Frederick. In, “Darkly Beyond the Glass: Middle Platonism and the Vision
of the Soul” In Platonism in Late Antiquity pp. 39-60, Ed by Stephen Gersh & Charles
Kannengresser. Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press. 1992
54. ibid, p. 54
55. Boethius, Edmund Reiss, Twayne Pub. Boston. 1982, p. 139
56. ibid, p 139
57. Darkly, p. 60.
58 quoted in Darkly, pp 59-60
59. Gilson,History of Christian Philosophy in the Middle Ages. Random House, 1955.
60.ibid p. 102.
61 p. 28
62. Prisoner’s Philosophy, p. 128
63. High Medieval, page 56
64. Historyp.102.
65. Boethius, Oxford Univ Press, 2003. p 154
66. Klingner, F. De Boethii, Consolatione Philosophiae. 2 Unveranderte Auflage. Zurich/
Dublin 1966