[Stoicism] - Dịch Seneca (108): Về: Mục đích của một người khi tiếp cận việc học tập nghiên cứu sẽ mang tính quyết định

Lời tựa:
                      
Như đã giới thiệu trong series, Seneca thực sự là nguồn cảm hứng Stoicism của mình. Đọc Seneca không chỉ là về triết học mà còn là một trải nghiệm nghệ thuật, khi những bài học, triết lý quan trọng được phản ánh qua những hình ảnh quen thuộc, bình dị và đời thường, thể hiện cái tinh tế trong quan sát của một thiên tài với sự từng trải của cuộc đời.
                                          
Với hy vọng giới thiệu Stoicism đến với các bạn trẻ Việt Nam, xin gửi tới các bạn bản dịch những bức thư quan trọng nhất trong cuốn "Moral Letters to Lucilius", tác phẩm đã làm nên tên tuổi của Seneca và là một trong bộ ba cuốn sách nền tảng của Stoicism.    
                                                        
Do không phải anh dịch thuật, nên bản dịch này hoàn toàn tập trung vào việc truyền tải thông điệp và hy vọng có thể giúp bạn cảm thấy dễ dàng hơn trong việc tiếp cận với bản tiếng Anh, để có thể thấy cái hay cái đẹp trong việc sử dụng ngôn từ của Seneca (dù thực ra bản tiếng Anh cũng chỉ là một bản dịch). Một anh bạn người Ý của mình đã chia sẻ Seneca được đưa vào chương trình giảng dạy tại Ý như một bậc thầy về việc sử dụng ngôn từ. Vì vậy, xin cam đoan tất cả những gì khiến bạn cảm thấy trúc trắc từ bản dịch là bởi khả năng hạn chế của mình, và rất mong nhận được đóng góp của các cao nhân để bản dịch được hoàn thiện hơn. 

Lưu ý: vì một số lý do như nội dung không còn quá sát và cần thiết với thời hiện tại, mình sẽ không dịch 4 bức số 58, 85, 92, và 95 nhé. Nếu bạn nào muốn tìm hiểu thêm thì bản tiếng Anh có sẵn trên Wiki, hay có thể nhắn cho mình mình sẽ gửi bản pdf sách.

Bức thư số 108

Để ý, và bạn sẽ thấy thực ra hầu hết người nghe chỉ coi triết như một hình thái tiêu khiển giết thời gian khác mà thôi. 

Nghèo nàn thì túng thiếu một vài món, nhưng tham lam thì túng thiếu mọi thứ

Người tham lam thì không thể mang lại lợi ích gì cho người khác, nhưng lại làm hại nhiều nhất chính bản thân anh ta (trích Publilius Syrus)

Ông ta cần rất ít, vì ham muốn rất ít (hoặc nếu theo lối dịch thơ: Kiểm soát ham muốn, tự giác đủ đầy)

Ai có thể chỉ muốn đủ, thì sẽ có thứ anh ta muốn

Mục đích của một người khi tiếp cận việc học tập nghiên cứu sẽ mang tính quyết định. 

Thời gian bay đi, và không thể lấy lại

Khoảng thời gian đẹp nhất đời ta, những con người với kiếp sống hữu hạn,

bay qua một cách chóng vánh, và rồi thay cho nó là bệnh tật

tuổi già và những đau đớn hay chịu đựng khác,

cho đến khi cái chết tàn nhẫn đến với ta

Khoảng thời gian đẹp nhất đời ta, những con người với kiếp sống hữu hạn,

bay qua rất nhanh

và thay vào vị trí của nó là bệnh tật

và tuổi già buồn bã

khi những căn bệnh đến, làm ta tái nhợt và làm buồn nản tuổi già

người mà không dân chúng hay kẻ thù nào

có thể trả đủ cho sự giúp đỡ của ông ta

Trên cả vị thần quản sấm sét ở cửa thiên đường

Nếu điều ấy là đúng đắn cho ai mong muốn “vươn tới trời cao”

Thì cánh cửa vĩ đại của thiên đường sẽ rộng mở với ta

From Seneca to Lucilius
Greetings
1 Your inquiry is on a matter there is no point knowing about except
just to know; and still, with no other point than that, you are in a
hurry to fi nd out and aren’t willing to wait for the books I’m now
putting together covering the entire domain of ethics.* I’ll get to it
right away, but fi rst I’ll write about how you ought to hold off on
your desire for learning—a burning desire, I see—so that it doesn’t
become counterproductive. 2 You ought not to take up every subject
you encounter, nor should you delve greedily into every topic in its
entirety: pieces of it will give you a sense of the whole. We should
adjust the burden to our strength, not taking on more than we can
handle. Don’t drink as much as you want, but as much as you can
hold. Just keep the right attitude, though, and the time will come
when you can hold as much as you want. Th e more the mind takes
in, the larger it becomes.
3 I remember how Attalus used to teach us when we were constantly
in attendance at his lectures, being the fi rst to come and last
to leave, and asking him to expound on various topics even when he
was out walking—for he did not just receive pupils; he went out and
found them. “Teacher and learner should have the same purpose,” he
used to say, “the one to enable progress, the other to make progress.”*
4 One who studies with a philosopher should have some benefi t to
take home with him every day, either better health or a mind more
open to healing. But he will, for the power of philosophy is so great
that it aids not only students but even casual bystanders. People who
are out in the sun get a tan, even if they didn’t go out for that purpose;
people who sit around for a while in a perfume-shop carry the aroma
of the place away with them; and those who have been around a
philosopher necessarily take away something benefi cial, even if they
don’t make any eff ort. Observe: I say “even if they don’t make any
eff ort,” not “even if they resist.”
5 “What do you mean? Don’t we know people who have studied
with a philosopher for many years and have not gained even a tinge of color?” Of course I do, and very persistent people too, but I would
describe them as hangers-on rather than as students of philosophy.
6 Some people come not to learn but only to listen. It is like when
we are enticed into the theater to delight our ears with speech or
song or story. You can see that the majority of this audience regards
a philosophical lecture as a mere diversion. Th ey are not seeking to
lay aside any of their faults or to adopt any rule of life by which to
regulate their habits, but only to fi nd enjoyment in the pleasures of
the ear. Some even come with notebooks, not to record the content
but to take down phrases that they can then repeat, with no more
benefi t to others than they have derived themselves. 7 Some are
stirred by fi ne-sounding speeches and take on the emotion of the
speakers. Th eir expressions are eager; their spirits are aroused; they
are as excited as Phrygian eunuchs,° half-men raving on command
at the sound of the fl ute.* What sweeps them away is the beauty
of the subject matter, not the sound of empty words. Whenever
someone speaks fi ercely against the fear of death, or boldly against
the vagaries of fortune, they are ready to act immediately on what
they have heard. Th ey are very responsive; they are just what they
are told to be—if the mood stays with them, if their fi ne resolve
is not assailed by the people, that great discourager of honorable
conduct. Few are able to take home with them the intention they
have formed.
8 It is easy to rouse a listener and make him desire what is right,
for nature has given everyone the foundations and seeds of the virtues.*
We are all born for such things; and when someone provides a
stimulus, the good awakens in our minds as if from sleep. Have you
not observed how applause echoes in the theater when certain lines
are spoken which we, the public, recognize and affi rm as true?
9 Penury is deprived of much, but avarice of all.
Th e greedy man is good to none, but worst to his own self.*
Th e vilest criminal applauds these lines, rejoicing to hear an attack
on his own vices. Just imagine the eff ect when the lines are spoken
by a philosopher, when healthful precepts are imbued with poetic
rhythms to drive them deeper into the minds of the uneducated.
10 For, as Cleanthes used to say, 

Just as the sound of our breath is amplifi ed when driven through
a trumpet with its narrow windings, fl ared at the end, so our
thoughts are amplifi ed by the stringent requirements of verse.*
Th e same points are attended to less carefully and make less of an
impact when expressed in plain speech. When meter with its specifi
ed pattern of long and short syllables is added to an excellent idea,
that same sentiment is hurled, as it were, by a stronger arm. 11 Much
is said about not caring for money; long speeches advise people that
riches are found in the mind, not in the bank account, and that the
wealthy person is the one who adjusts to his poverty and makes
himself rich with little. But our minds are struck much more when
we hear verses like these:
Th at mortal man needs least whose wants are least.
He who can want what is enough, has what he wants.*
12 When we hear such things we feel compelled to admit that they
are true, for even people who are never satisfi ed with what they have
admire them and cheer for them and cry aloud how they hate money.
When you see this reaction, press your advantage: load everything
onto them, and leave behind all those subtleties, those syllogisms and
sophisms and other clever but pointless tricks. Speak against avarice;
speak against self-indulgence; and when you see that you are making
progress and having an eff ect on your audience, press harder still: you
will be amazed how benefi cial such a speech can be when it is intent
on the cure and entirely devoted to the good of its audience. It is easy
to turn the hearts of young people toward the love of what is honorable
and right. When people can still be taught—that is, when they
are only lightly corrupted—truth lays its hand upon them if only it
fi nds a suitable advocate.*
13 In my own case, when I used to hear Attalus at the climax of
a speech against faults, against errors, against everything bad in life,
I often felt pity for the human race and thought that Attalus was an
exalted being, above the pinnacle of human aff airs. He said himself
that he was a king; but I thought he was more than that, for here
was a man who could censure kings. 14 And when he started recommending
poverty, arguing that any possessions in excess of our basic needs are only a burden to weigh us down, I often wanted to walk out
of the lecture a poor man. When he began to castigate our pleasures,
praising a chaste body, an abstemious diet, and a pure mind—pure
not only of illicit pleasures but even of unnecessary ones—then I
wanted to put a check on my gluttonous belly.
15 Some of the resolutions I made at that time are still with me,
Lucilius. For I went at it all with great enthusiasm; and even after I
resumed a more urbane manner of living, I kept a few of those good
habits. All my life since then, I have refrained from eating oysters
and mushrooms. Th ese are not food; they are only tidbits meant to
entice those who are full to eat some more (which is what the glutton
wants, to stuff himself beyond capacity), for they go down easily, and
come back up easily too. 16 All my life since then, I have abstained
from perfumed oil: the best smell for the body is no smell at all.
Since then I have kept my stomach free of wine, and all my life I
have avoided the baths. Boiling one’s body and then draining it by
sweating seems to me both pointless and decadent. Other practices I
had given up have since returned; but though I have ceased to abstain
from them, I observe very strict limits. Such restrictions are near
to abstinence and in fact may even be more diffi cult, because some
habits are easier to break than to reduce.
17 Since I have started telling you how much more eagerly I went
after philosophy as a young man than I hurry after it now that I am
old, I won’t be embarrassed to admit how smitten I was with love for
Pythagoras. Sotion explained to me why Pythagoras abstained from
animal foods, and why Sextius later did the same.* Th eir reasons were
diff erent, but impressive in both cases. 18 Sextius held that a person
could get enough to eat without resorting to butchery; and that
when bloodshed is adapted to the purposes of pleasure, one develops
a habit of cruelty.* He also used to say that one should pare away
the resources of self-indulgence, and he off ered reasoning to show
that variety in food is alien to our bodies and detrimental to health.
19 Pythagoras, for his part, spoke of a relationship among all things
and of an interchange of minds passing from one form to another. If
you believe him, no soul ever dies, or even ceases its activity except
for the brief instant when it transfers to another body. Eventually,
we will fi nd out how many ages must pass, how many times it must
travel from one lodging to the next before it returns into a human being. In the meantime, Pythagoras instilled in humankind a fear
of wrongdoing—more specifi cally, of parricide. For if some spirit
related to them happened to be dwelling in a given body, they might,
without realizing it, assault the soul of their parent with the knife or
with their teeth. 20 After Sotion had explained all this, fi lling it out
with his own arguments, he added,
Do you not believe that souls are allotted to one body after another,
and that what we call death is really transmigration? Do
you not believe that in these cattle, these wild animals or sea
creatures, there lives a mind that was once that of a human? Do
you not believe that things in this world do not perish, but only
change their location—that not only do the heavenly bodies revolve
in defi nite orbits, but animate creatures also cycle through
the ages, their minds coming round to where they started? Great
men have believed these things. 21 Th erefore refrain from judgment,
if you will, but be open-minded about it. If these things
are true, then abstaining from animal foods means not harming
anyone; if they are false, it is a matter of economy. How much of
a loss is it for you to refrain from savagery?° I am only depriving
you of the food of lions and of vultures.
22 Inspired by these words, I began to abstain from animal foods, and
a year later the habit was both easy and pleasant for me. I thought
my mind was livelier, and even today I suspect it might have been.
Would you like to know why I gave it up? Th e time when I was a
young man was in the early years of Tiberius’s principate. Religions
of foreign origin were then being eliminated, and abstinence from
animal foods was considered proof of adherence. So at the request
of my father (who did not fear opprobrium but had a hatred of philosophy),
I returned to my former habits; he had no trouble, really, in
persuading me to dine in better style. 23 Attalus used to recommend
a mattress that would not yield to the body. I use such a mattress even
in my old age, the kind that does not hold an imprint.
My purpose in telling you all this has been to show how excited
brand-new recruits can become about every form of good behavior
when they have someone to exhort and encourage them. But there
is also some wrongdoing, both on the part of instructors, when they
teach us how to argue a point and not how to live, and on the part of students, when their purpose in attending is not to improve their
minds but to develop their rhetorical talent. Hence what used to be
philosophy has now become mere philology.
24 It matters a great deal what one’s purpose is in approaching
any fi eld of study. When the prospective literary scholar examines his
copy of Virgil, and reads that exceptional line,
time fl ies on irretrievable,*
his thought is not “We must take care—if we do not make haste,
we will be left behind—the fl eeting moment hurries on, and hurries
us—heedlessly are we swept along—we are always procrastinating—
opportunity hurtles by and still we make delays.” No, he reads it just
so that he can observe that every time Virgil speaks about the rapid
movement of time, he uses the word “fl ies” ( fugit), as follows:
Th e best times of our lives, poor mortal creatures,
fl y fi rst away, and in their place come illness
and sad old age and suff ering and pain,
until hard pitiless death takes us away.*
25 Th e person who looks to philosophy takes these same lines and
applies them as he ought. “Th e reason Virgil never says that time
‘passes,’ but always that it ‘fl ies,’ is that fl ying is the quickest kind of
movement, and his point is that the best people are the fi rst to be
taken away. Why not quicken our own steps to match the pace of
that swiftest of all runners? Our better days are hastening on; worse
days will follow. 26 Our life is like a storage jar: the purest of its
contents are decanted fi rst; all the sediment and turbid matter sink
to the bottom. Are we going to let the best of our lives be siphoned
off for others, and keep only the dregs for ourselves? Keep these lines
always in mind; let them be to you as an oracular response:
Th e best times of our lives, poor mortal creatures,
fl y fi rst away.
27 Why the best? Because what remains is uncertain. Why the best?
Because when we are young, we are able to learn, since our minds
are still fl exible and can be turned toward better things; because this
is the time of life that is suited to strenuous eff ort, to exercising the
mind with study and the body with work. What remains is slower, wearier, nearer to the end. Let us therefore forget all our diversions
and aim for this one thing with all our mind, lest we come too late
to understand the rapidity of fl eeting time, which we cannot detain.
Let us be pleased with each new day as the best that life will give
us, and so add it to our store. Life is fl ying away; we must catch it.”
28 Th e one who reads with the eye of a literary scholar does not
consider why the best times of our lives come fi rst—that in their
place comes illness, that old age looms over us even while we are still
intent on our youth. Instead, he says that Virgil always uses the words
“illness” and “old age” together. So he does, and with good reason! For
old age is an illness that has no cure. 29 “Moreover,” he says, “Virgil
employs a fi xed epithet for old age: he calls it ‘sad’:
and in their place come illness
and sad old age . . .
Elsewhere he says,
where wan diseases dwell and grim old age.”*
Each person fi nds in the same material refl ections suited to his own
pursuits. And no wonder: in one and the same meadow the ox looks
for grass, the dog for a hare, and the stork for a lizard. 30 When
three people, one an antiquarian, one a literary scholar, and one a
philosopher, pick up Cicero’s treatise On the Republic, each directs
his attention to something diff erent. Th e philosopher is amazed that
so many points could have been made against justice.* Th e antiquarian,
reading the same passage, takes note of the fact that there were
two Roman kings, one of whom had no father and the other no
mother. For there are no clear reports about Servius’s mother, and
Ancus is not said to have had a father but only to have been the
grandson of Numa.* 31 He remarks also that the offi cial whom we
call a “dictator” was in ancient times called “master of the populace.”
Th at information can be found today in the augurs’ record book, and
there is further evidence in the fact that the dictator’s appointee is
called “master of horse.” He points out, furthermore, that Romulus
died during an eclipse of the sun, and that there was such a thing
as the appeal to the people even during the monarchy. Th is is also
in the pontifi cal record, and Fenestella and a few others° share this
view.* 32 When the literary scholar expounds these same scrolls, the fi rst thing he puts into his commentary is the fact that Cicero uses
the word reapse for re ipsa (“in reality”), and likewise sepse for se ipse
(“himself ”). Th en he moves on to changes in linguistic usage over
time. For instance, Cicero writes, “Since his interruption has called
us back from the very lime line,” that is, the fi nish line. What we now
call the chalk line (creta) at the races, the old writers called a lime line
(calx). 33 Th en he collects various lines of Ennius, especially the ones
about Scipio Africanus,
whom neither citizen nor foe
could ever repay the price of his assistance.*
From these lines, he concludes that in the old writers the word “assistance”
(ops) meant not just “aid” but also “endeavor.” For Ennius’s
point is that no one, neither citizen nor foe, could ever repay Scipio
the price of his endeavor. 34 Next, he congratulates himself for fi nding
out the source of Virgil’s line,
Above whom heaven’s massive portal thunders.*
He says that Ennius stole the line from Homer, and Virgil took it
from Ennius; for Cicero, in the same work On the Republic, quotes
this couplet of Ennius:
If it be right for anyone to mount the skies,
for me alone does heaven’s great portal open.
35 But I don’t mean to turn into an antiquarian or literary scholar
on my own account. My business is elsewhere. I am only advising
that when we read and listen to the philosophers, we should direct
our attention toward our goal, which is happiness. We should not be
trying to track down archaic words, neologisms, peculiar metaphors,
and fi gures of speech, but to seek out benefi cial precepts and courageous
and inspiring utterances that will soon fi nd application in our
lives. Let us learn them so thoroughly that words turn into actions.
36 But of all those who have done humankind a bad turn, the
worst are those who teach philosophy for money, as if it were some
tradesman’s craft, and then live their lives in a manner very diff erent
from their precepts. For, being prime examples of the very faults they
criticize in others, they provide a fi ne demonstration of how useless
their teaching is. 37 Such instruction cannot do me any good, any more than a helmsman who is prone to seasickness during a storm.
When the waves are coming fast and a hand is needed to grip the
tiller, to wrestle with the sea itself, to take down the sail in a high
wind, what is the use of a helmsman who is panicking and throwing
up? And life is beset by worse storms than any ship. I don’t need
someone to talk at me; I need someone to steer!
38 Everything they say, all their fi ne speeches before crowds of
listeners, are taken over from someone else. Th e words are those of
Plato, or of Zeno, or of Chrysippus or Posidonius or one of the many
other great names in philosophy. How can they prove that those ideas
are their own? I’ll tell you: they must practice what they preach.
39 Since I have fi nished saying what I wanted to convey to you, I
shall now comply with your request. I’ll put your inquiry into a fresh
letter so that you won’t be fatigued when taking up a thorny subject
that needs a thoughtful and attentive hearing.

Farewell.

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