Biathanatos

by John Donne

Reproduced from the First Edition, with a bibliographical note by J. William Hebel.

Genres: Philosophy, Poetry, Nonfiction

218 pages, Library Binding

First published January 1, 1608

About the author

John Donne was an English poet, preacher and a major representative of the metaphysical poets of the period. His works are notable for their realistic and sensual style and include sonnets, love poetry, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially as compared to that of his contemporaries.

Despite his great education and poetic talents, he lived in poverty for several years, relying heavily on wealthy friends. In 1615 he became an Anglican priest and, in 1621, was appointed the Dean of St Paul's Cathedral in London.

Reviews

[kaelan · Rating 3 out of 5]

John Donne's BIAΘANATOΣ is a strange text. On the surface, it purports to defend "that paradox or thesis that self-homicide is not so naturally sin that it may never be otherwise." Yet the apparent seriousness of the work—evinced by such factors as its length, its citational (over-)scrupulousness, etc.—is offset by Donne's frequent forays into satire, (dark) humour and sophistry. Did Donne intend for it to be read in earnest? Is it an elaborate spoof on the scholastic treatise? Such questions have occupied the few critics brave enough to tackle this work, with little consensus generated between them. Evelyn Simpson, for instance, dismissed it as "an exercise in casuistry on the subject of suicide," while John Carey believed it "constituted a giant suicide note, always ready for use."

The truth of the matter, I suspect, is somehow related to the complex nature of the paradox itself. As a genre, the paradox has its roots in Classical oratory traditions, but experienced a spike of popularity in the late Renaissance. Unlike the logical paradox, in which a proposition is inconsistent with itself, the rhetorical paradox involved the vindication of a superficially contradictory or improbable thesis—e.g., Cicero's monumental Paradoxa Stoicorum contained titles such as "That only the wise man is free and that every foolish man is a slave" and "That the wise man alone is rich."

Donne's own correspondences shed some light on the form and function of the paradox, at least insofar as the poet was concerned. A. E. Malloch (probably the preeminent Biathanatos scholar) glosses one especially telling letter as follows:

The office of the paradoxes themselves is not to deceive, but by a show of deceit to force the reader to uncover the truth. The true nature of the paradox is revealed when the reader overturns it, just as the true nature of the swaggerer appears only when he is resisted. And further, the paradoxes do not really have natures at all; they are nothings. They exist only within the antithetical action of the reader, and if he allows them (i.e., allows them an existence), he is making another paradox, viz., That Nothing Is.

Content-wise, Biathatanos is a rhetorical hodgepodge of legal theory, scriptural maxims and Biblical/historical precedent, which makes it quite the slog to get through. But for all that, it's also an active, living book, one that exists in the dialectical exchange between reader and (material) text. The result is somewhat paradoxical: Donne's vindication of suicide is both tedious and fascinating.

[Nancy French · Rating 3 out of 5]

Biathanatos is a long and very very difficult.

In it Donne argues suicide is “not so naturally sin, that it may never be otherwise.” He does concede that most cases of suicide - despair, self-protection, suffering -- are sinful, but some suicide is justified... for example, he calls submission or acquiescence to martyrdom suicide.

He even claims Jesus Christ voluntarily died on the cross, which he claims was suicidal.

I read this because of its controversial topic, but fans of Donne's other work will find this a slog. It's almost like he wrote it in an intentionally obtuse way in order to dissuade the casual reader who might be tempted to misinterpret his work.

Regardless, fascinating that this exists.

[Robert · Rating 5 out of 5]

On a particularly jovial day, read Donne's Biathanatos alongside Blanchot's The Space of Literature.

[Jim · Rating 1 out of 5]

The extensive introduction was informative, but Donne's actual text was unreadable. Every time he wanted to make a point he switched to Latin.

[A]

I'm dusting this off the (unlisted) "to read" shelf because today it was reported that Chester Bennington killed himself. A month ago i heard "one step closer" by linkin park at the gym and it stayed in my head. I'm not sure how I feel about the music overall but I will say that those choruses are penetrating and the lyricism really hits on all my angsty pained chords.

Since that meme (almost like a pre-meme meme) of the kid with his head in his hands, with the caption "I'm going to go listen to Linkin Park", it's been easy for me to make fun of the music, judging its angst/pain as immaturity, etc. So when I heard it again, I was able to scream "EVERYTHING YOU SAY TO MAYYYYYYYY" at my friends in good jest, even watching the music video and thinking "man r these guys just cashing in on teenaged angst?", but now it's like well this guy was abused and molested as a kid and had a career w drugs and alcohol, fuck I should consider it more seriously.

Among all the life lost in tragic ways, suicide always seems a special case. In regards to recent debates on the right to die, I don't know. Without getting into doctors and legalities, I feel like you can't deny someone's right to self-determination, which therefore includes suicide, but that doesn't make it any less tragic. Am I just trying to protect myself, a little neurotypical lib, when I think that "shouldn't we do everything to help people believe in life?" No doubt that seriously depressed, suicidal people are sick of hearing "it gets better!!!! pls don't!!" Also though, a resentful shouts out to all the (several) people in my life right now who casually say "KMS" over messenger, who, although I don't doubt their sincerity, I feel like are just a biiiiiit immature and I hope, I think, will grow out of it with some support and determination.

So it seems a bit intellectually fetishitstic to want to respond to tragedy by reading an old ethical "TREATISE" on it, but, aside from hearing the life story of everyone currently seriously questioning offing themselves (no doubt I would rush to wherever they are, demand that they explain their whole story to me, so I can understand and then decide if it's OK with me whether or not they do it, re-purposing their story into something "redemptive" and publishable for a young unpublished white male author), what else am I goona do?

Plus, John Donne is that guy for me; he summed up my ethical being in one line (Ask not, for it tolls for thee). Maybe this time I will make it thru the 20 (!) page introduction without falling asleep.

Long ass goodreads reviews (written without having read a single word) count as writing, right?

[Paolo D'Amelio · Rating 5 out of 5]

Il Biathanatos è sicuramente un'opera che mi sento di consigliare... Avverto però che la veste dell'opera è tecnica e va ad inscriversi nell'ambito delle controversie teologiche (di cui Donne era esperto)... Eppure la grandezza di questo scritto sta nello scavalcare gli steccati di genere e nell'essere una grande riflessione su cosa sia la legge e quale sia lo spazio lasciato alla libertà umana... Mi sembra che Donne abbia voluto individuare le aporie della legislazione (civile e canonica) per rivendicare all'uomo il diritto alla disperazione, alla buona morte perché a noi (e non a Dio) spetta determinare le circostanze che possono rendere giusto anche il suicidio... Inoltre la morte fa parte della nostra natura, della nostra finitezza; paradossalmente, a mio avviso, riacquistando la responsabilità della propria morte, l'Uomo trova la sua pienezza, la sua centralità... C'è anche un velato recupero del paganesimo ovvero del concetto di sacrificio supremo con cui si magnifica la gloria di Dio ma questo non stupisce: io studio e mi occupo da poco di XVII secolo però se ho trovato un'atteggiamento che accomuna i diversi autori che ho letto del periodo (Donne, Browne ma anche il nostro Basile) è quello di camminare sulla sottile linea che divide i contrari come fossero acrobati : qui Donne con acutezza disquisce di una morte che si fa vita, di un Dio che per perseguire il bene fa il male... Insomma, trattasi di un'opera immensa, benché incompiuta, e nella quale ci si potrebbe perdere viste le così tante vie di riflessione che da essa si dipartono; forse parlandone mi sono perso anch'io... Comunque so che la lettura mi ha così fatto riflettere sui "massimi sistemi", sull'alfa e sull'omega, sul corpo e sull'anima che la mia copia adesso è tutta scritta ai margini: poche opere mi hanno stimolato tanto!

[Wynne Belk · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was quite a difficult book to read. It required a comprehension of Latin and a mind perfectly adept at following long, sinuous arguments and run-on sentences. But apart from these taxing and wearisome exertions, it was an insightful text that made me aware of how complicated the dispute has always been over the right to take one's own life.

On a personal note, the text cleared up for me some common Christian misinterpretations of Canon Law on the subject, such as whether we may communicate with the souls of those who have taken their lives. There has been a taboo against praying for excommunicants, but no official law which places suicides among the excommunicated -- apparently.

Donne's justification of suicide as a mark of fortitude or to preserve chastity follows in a long line of Christian apologists and Stoic philosophers. But then he also justifies suicide as a form of worship (many martyrs in this case were suicides by jumping onto their own pyres out of their intense desire to be united to God). Donne also wishes to make clear that desiring death, exemplified by St. Paul and many of the prophets, is not an altogether sinful or irrational wish in forlorn circumstances, nor are all types of despair sinful.

Some scholars think this merely an exercise in hairsplitting for Donne; others think it a flirt with moral relativism; and still others an effort to sublimate his own desire for death in miserable circumstances. It was significant nonetheless to write such a treatise in a time still governed by rigid taboos around the subject.