1885 novel set in the Rome of Marcus Aurelius. This reads like Pater is projecting himself into a kind of virtual reality so as to wander around the possibilities of the era that he personally finds most enticing. It’s an imagined being, not doing. Imagining the mellow solemnity of growing up in a villa in the countryside with the rituals of the Roman Gods, already apparently a little old-fashioned, as your formative cultural heritage. Imagining encounters with Marcus Aurelius and Apuleius and Lucian. Imagining picking and choosing between various philosophies and ways of being, most notably Epicureanism, Stoicism and Christianity, having the ability to take what Pater considers to be the most interesting elements of each of them.
It seemed just then as if the desire of the artist in him — that old longing– might be satisfied by the exact and literal transcript of what was then passing around him, in simple prose, arresting the desirable moment as it passed, and prolonging its life a little.
This description of Marius’s urge to “arrest the desirable moment” reminded me of Pater’s modus operandi in this novel; he has a list of desirable moments to fit into this premise and he freeze-frames them.
Marius, as the title tells you, is an Epicurean. I know nothing about Epicureanism beyond what this novel told me, so I don’t know whether Pater’s take on it truly is a little idiosyncratic. Marius’s philosophy seems to be that nothing exists beyond the present moment so that we should take care to live the present moment as vividly as possible. The idiosyncrasy comes in with Pater’s idea of vividness. It is made clear at the beginning that Marius has a special capacity to enjoy beauty and visual stimulus and that his life’s good shall come to him through these. It is also made clear that Marius is far too refined and restrained and full of rectitude to interpret his philosophy as a licence for debauchery. I might have expected a novel full of Proustian descriptions of the visual world, then, but that doesn’t really happen. For all this emphasis on beauty being important to Marius, the physical world seems to have little reality for him. Physical beauty is the cipher for a beautiful concept behind it, he decides during a spiritual experience in a natural setting:
It was easier to conceive of the material fabric of things as but an element in a world of thought — as a thought in a mind, than of mind as an element, or accident, or passing condition in a world of matter, because mind was really nearer to himself: it was an explanation of what was less known by what was known better. The purely material world that close, impassable prison-wall, seemed just then the unreal thing, to be actually dissolving away all around him: and he felt a quiet hope, a quiet joy dawning faintly, in the dawning of this doctrine upon him as a really credible opinion.
This has something to do with Platonism, I think, but I don’t know enough to tell why Marius is an Epicurean rather than a Platonist. This intangible nature of what Marius is striving for is emphasised as he sums up his life at the end:
Revelation, vision, the discovery of a vision, the seeing of a perfect humanity, in a perfect world—through all his alternations of mind, by some dominant instinct, determined by the original necessities of his own nature and character, he had always set that above the having, or even the doing, of anything. For, such vision, if received with due attitude on his part, was, in reality, the being something, and as such was surely a pleasant offering or sacrifice to whatever gods there might be, observant of him.
The novel seems like it presents itself as a plea for some ethical position but the more I think about it the odder it seems. This insistence of Pater’s on talking about the physical world being everything one moment and nothing the next moment is at the heart of it. I think he means that the physical world is the key to the invisible world but this seems too obvious to him to always make it apparent. Instead there is all this invisible world stuff, when you thought it said something else on the tin.
Thankfully I have read Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations because one of the main things this book is for is to quarrel respectfully with him. At one point Marius almost has a chat with him to point out where he is going wrong but Marcus Aurelius is busy with orphans and misses his chance. Part of this is Pater’s puzzled sorrow that someone who tried to be good could have lent himself to some of his period’s atrocities and part of it is a rejection of what he sees as Marcus Aurelius’s gloomy assumptions that life is a burden.
Marius encounters Christians, and after spending lots of time looking at their tombs comes to the conclusion that Christianity is all about joy. He doesn’t convert but is able to die happily knowing that Christianity exists. I was surprised by how unconvincing I found Marius’s reactions to Christianity — surprised since it seems clear that the representation of early Christianity is carefully crafted to suit Pater’s own vision. The fact that Pater had in fact lost his faith in Christianity may have something to do with the awkwardness I felt here, the effect of crudely visible lines in something that has nonetheless clearly been lovingly pieced together.
Ultimately I suppose the oddness of the book is due to the fact that this is Pater’s world, and happiness in it is defined by the tastes of one wistful intellectual. And that’s what this objectively dull book had that I quite liked: a wistful intellectual vision of happiness.