Yes, There's A Place For The Classics In Modern Society

I love the word “classics”—it's a tinkling chime that paints the ancient Achaeans anew. Whenever said, the noun stirs up grand adjectives: archaic, extraordinary, timeless. For something to be considered “classical,” it must be as accomplished as the Greeks and the Romans. Yet, should the academic discipline be merely a collection of glorious, monolithic narratives, where men seek virtue by taunting monsters and honoring the divine?

Since the dawn of enlightenment, scholars have pored over the hearts of the ancient Greeks, fascinated by the origins of so many aspects of modern, Western culture. The gripping narratives and innovative ideas of Ancient Greek have left an indelible mark on our society. The gripping story of the Iliad, the pioneering theory of democracy molded by the Athenians, and the stirring Olympics valued by all Achaens, scatter relics of Hellenism through time. The rich legacy of Classical civilization, found in small portions across many areas of society, provides a timeless yet essential lens to understand the character and promise of human civilization. 

This rich legacy stems from Greece’s appreciation of wisdom for its own sake. The “theory of knowledge” originated from Ancient Greece, where the emphasis was placed on objective reasoning instead of categorizing thoughts as “right” or “wrong” without proper explanation. Many Greek scholars believed that knowledge across disciplines—medicine, philosophy, morals, religion, logic, or art—was interconnected, resulting in the liberal arts educational system, which focused on true perception of knowledge instead of a selective, practical pursuit of it. Alexander the Great epitomized such learning. Under the guidance of his tutor Aristotle, Alexander developed a profound interest in metaphysics, poetry, and the arts of medicine, an undeniable polymath long before the term “Renaissance man” was coined. He carried Aristotle’s recension of The Iliad throughout his vast conquest and regularly sent back reports on local plants. 

Learning Ancient Greek presents both challenges and profound connections to the past. The approach to knowledge that is encouraged by many ancient Greek scholars, like its language, is rife with risks for new learners. When I first started learning Ancient Greek, I spent most of my time checking my grammar as I assembled the long-lost language like puzzle pieces. Classical Greek was written in capital letters only, with no space in between. Readers are responsible for adding pauses within the sentences based on context. The inscription “ΕΧΕΤΩΔΕΤΑΕΜΑΠΑΝΤΑΛΕΩΝ” is commonly understood as “all my possessions shall be passed down to Leon,” but it can also be translated as “my possessions shall be granted to Pantaleon.” These nuanced ambiguities enhance the allure of this ancient language, allowing us to appreciate the mysteries contained within its dusty alphabets. I enjoy studying ancient Greek, as it devises a subtle connection between me and the Hellenes; new and old scholars of classics alike still enjoy the classically Greek virtue of intellectual exploration thousands of years later. 

The ancient Greek concept of knowledge transcends mere intellectualism, encompassing deeper existential insights. Not only does the ancient Greek culture accentuate intellectual knowledge, but it also promotes a more thorough understanding of our existence as mortals. The Greek word for knowledge γνῶσις embodies not only intellectual understanding but also insight into humanity’s true nature. The gaudy universe of mighty gods and formidable monsters reflects awareness of mortality. Consider Prometheus: When the first humans sprung from his hands, they were mere clay figures. Athena breathed life into each figure, giving humanity her divine qualities of wisdom, instinct, craft, and sense. The two gods represent the separation between body and soul, from which stems the great philosophical theory of dualism. Our flimsy clay body is only made firm with the addition of wisdom. To boot, the well-known fire that Prometheus stole from Olympus after it was deprived by Zeus, who was afraid that humans would surpass the power of the gods one day with their growing self-awareness, was not only a flame, but it was also the embodiment of intelligence and civilization itself. For the ancient Greeks, fire dispelled the prehistoric gloom and gave us a great wisdom-fueled age. Once more, the Greeks answered: “What makes us human?”

Greek mythology also serves as a powerful reflection on human resilience and fate. Laocoön, a Trojan priest, warned his citizens to beware the Trojan Horse. Athena and Apollo, who supported the Greeks, sent serpents to kill him. This tragic story transforms the abstract notion of fate to tangible serpents punishing mortals. Mortals bravely challenging their fate with feats of bravery make Greek mythology fascinating. Greek mythology eulogizes the tenacity of humanity through heroic failure, and hence is profound. Instead of treating life like mere marshes to trudge through, Greek literature spurs us to cherish our frail existence as mortals and to carve our glories and braid stories. Whatever their pointless ostensible purpose, these brave deeds were their own rewards.

We treasure the classics for their recurring wisdom weaved into glorious historical narratives. When the Greeks compared themselves to their prehistoric ancestors, they believed in their own growing wisdom and upcoming enlightenment. Each time we return to Greek literature, perhaps we steal the illuminating fire from Olympus again. Learning more about the ancient Greeks with an open perspective of its triumphs and failures offers us a glimpse into the foundations of the modern world and the promise of human civilization’s incessant evolution.