Saul Bellow, the great bombastic cynic, once wrote that “a fool can throw a stone in a pond that a hundred wisemen can not get out.” For millennia, a long succession of fools seeking to challenge the merits of a liberal education have thrown stones of pragmatism and banality into the pond of discourse that a whole host of literary and philosophical minds have not managed to fish out. How to shape the best members of society from the slime and spontaneous genius of childhood has long been a point of conflict within civilizations from the foot of Mount Olympus to a Latin classroom in twenty-first century America. From the epigrams of Martial at the turn of the first millenium to the free-flowing verse of A.E. Stallings at the beginning of the second, poetry has offered a medium through which the wiseman might defend the never-ending quest for an explanation of the human condition—for that’s what a liberal education truly means. By examining the intricate pattern of humanity’s search for meaning, poetry allows the wiseman to remove the stone of the fool.
Martial, the great Roman poet of the first century C.E., is best remembered for his searing epigrams commenting on different elements of Roman society. In his “Epigram 5 56” or “To Lupus,” Martial sarcastically addresses a father debating what kind of education is best for his son. “Avoid, I advise you, all the grammarians and rhetoricians,” Martial writes, “let him have nothing to do with the books of Cicero or Virgil; let him leave Tutilius to his fame.” Martial is ridiculing the prevalent belief that young men should not spend time learning the higher rhetorical and philosophical arts and instead spend their time on more virile pursuits. Emphasizing the great volumes by Cicero and Virgil, as well as the fame of the rhetorician Tutilius, Martial points out the great irony that parents should not want their children to experience the famed and wise masters of Latin rhetoric. No, Martial sarcastically seems to say, do not let your children experience the wisdom and fame of a liberal education. Let them stay ignorant! Such a succinct summary of the logic of those who deride a liberal education sharply points out the irony and stupidity of such beliefs.
“If he makes verses, give him no encouragement to be a poet,” he continues, “if he wishes to study lucrative arts, make him learn to play on the guitar or flute. If he seems to be of a dull disposition, make him an auctioneer or an architect.” In these last few lines of the short epigram, Martial applies the same stunted logic of the deriders of liberal education. He applies them to other facets of a young man’s life, seeking to show how idiotic they seem in other situations where factors like money are concerned. Martial points out that telling a son who wishes to master Roman rhetoric to avoid a liberal education is as silly and half-witted as telling a son who wishes “to study lucrative arts” to learn to play “the guitar or flute.” An education, Martial searingly demonstrates, must push a young person towards higher wisdom and serve the interests and demeanor of the child in question.
Thousands of years later, A.E. Stallings, a classicist and contemporary poet, touched upon a similar theme in a vastly different way in her poem “Dead Language Lesson.” Portraying the beauty and innocence of young people experiencing language and classical arts for the first time, Stallings shows the immense relevance of such pursuits to young people and how the themes of classical literature manifest themselves clearly in the lives of young people. “They lift their half-closed eyes out of the/ grammar,” she writes, “What is the object of love? you,/ Singular. The subject? I./ Aeneas has nothing to say for himself./ Even the boys admit that he/ Didn’t intend to come back, the girls/ Already know the tale by heart.” Stallings’ language suggests the ever-present intricacies of Latin grammar, at the same time commenting on the nature and importance of love. In doing so, she shows how related modern themes of love are to Classical literature and myth. She demonstrates how relevant classical themes still are for today, although some of the students described don’t seem to understand this. She alludes to Aeneas’ abandonment of Dido at Carthage in Virgil’s Aeneid, discussing how the children each react to this gesture. “The boys admit” that Aeneas lied to Dido about returning, and “the girls” have already experienced the sexist abandonment of Dido portrayed in Virgil’s Aeneid. In these lines, Stallings points out the relevance of even the most emotionally-charged and dramatic moments in classical literature, showing how easily young people relate to the characters though they still remain oblivious to how their responses show the relevance of classics and a liberal education.
Stallings continues, “I confiscate a note in which/ The author writes, ‘Who do you love?,’/ An agony past all correction./ I think, as they wait for the bell,/ Blessed are the young for whom/ All languages are dead: the girl/ Who twines her golden hair, like Circe,/ Turning glib boys into swine.” In the first three lines of this section, Stallings not only makes a very witty comment on the grammar mistake of a confiscated note, but she shows the relevance of both Latin grammar and classical literature today. The same questions, “[Whom] do you love?,” which plague classical myths are prevalent today. She then comments on the naiveté of her students who do not recognize the classical parallels of their antics and musings, not realizing that language and rhetoric is far from dead. In fact, it is ever present in their daily lives. She compares a popular and beautiful girl to the sorceress Circe who seduced Odysseus and turned his men into pigs. This modern-day Circe turns the boys into metaphorical “swine” with her charm and good looks. With her intricate imagery and constant allusions, Stallings shows the relevance of classics and language today. She puts herself in the wiseman’s position, trying to show the power of classical language to students whose lives she sees so clearly paralleled by classical myth. A liberal education, she argues, is not just the path to higher wisdom, but an explanation and examination of our day-to-day lives.
In terms of style, Stallings and Martial seem to go in opposite directions. While Martial’s language is sparse and witty, Stallings' language is populated with skillful imagery, metaphor, and classical allusion. Martial uses sarcasm to illuminate the absurdity of the fool who throws the stone and dares the wiseman to return it. Stallings uses pedantic classical allusions and direct depictions of Latin students to show the irony and contradiction of the ignorance of the fool. Martial uses realism to depict absurdity, and Stallings uses allusion to depict reality, but both Martial and Stallings’ language is compact and to-the-point. Together, Martial and Stallings prove that philosophy and rhetoric are much more than an escape from practicality. A liberal education, they corroborate, is the path towards wisdom and an understanding of our own lives. It is an innately human endeavor. By utilizing the wit and imagery of poetry, Martial and Stallings bring back the stone of the fool and show the absurdity of his assault on the palace of human knowledge and the sacred institutions of liberal education.