A review by ralowe
The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius

2.0

my incessant secular humanism strikes again, how else can we explain my curiosity for this text at the onset of the european dark ages? this drive is embedded within the phenomenology of all quintessential utterance itself. the relentlessly narratival drive to seek among the affairs of rational beings a merit-based dispensation of reward and its other arrives through the vessel of boethius in ill favor with the fates, languishing in a dungeon. a prison abolitionist sensibility pays attention to the historical fact that such a hallmark of hegemony originated from within a cell. boethius did a bid in a pavian church for the king of the ostrogoths, perhaps at san pietro in ciel d'oro where he was ultimately laid to rest, entombed near st augustine. maybe it was here that boethius imagined this dialogue with the embodiment of reason, the lady philosophy. the carceral call-and-response that is being in relation, that is the drive to utter with the desire of always being heard by someone somewhere. wanting one's utterance to matter, to have a purpose within the matrix system of everything that is or can be. boethius asks a question older than himself: why are things so fucked up if there is really someone steering the ship? the deathless entanglement of fantasy and analysis that leaves the disconsolate. i can't blame this text, but i'm going to blame it anyway.