I Know Nothing

 

Susannah York as Margaret More in A Man For All Seasons

In the 1966 film version of Robert Bolt's play A Man For All Seasons, King Henry VIII pays a visit to the home of his Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas More.  When the More family comes out to great his highness, there is an amusing exchange in which More's daughter Margaret upstages the king with fluent Latin, but it is their opening exchange that speaks to me most.

King Henry:  Why Margaret; they told me you were a scholar.

Margaret:  Among women I pass for one, your grace.

Margaret More sells herself quite short here, for she was one of the most learned people of her day, composing works in Latin and translating both from Latin to English and from Greek to Latin.  I think often of her humble response to the king, for it is easy for my high school students to think that I know a lot of things.  Then again, they are in their teens and I most certainly am not, and so to those who think I am a scholar, I would borrow More's words and reply that among teenaged students I pass for one.  In fact, it would be closer to the truth if I were to quote another legendary film character and admit, "I know nothing."

Why Stars Fall and Birds Do Not

Varinia (Jean Simmons) and Spartacus (Kirk Douglas) in Spartacus

In the classic 1960 film Spartacus, the former slave gladiator, played by Kirk Douglas, has a quiet moment with his wife, played by Jean Simmons.

Varinia:  What are you thinking about?

Spartacus:  I'm free. And what do I know? I don't even know how to read.

Varinia:  You know things that can't be taught.

Spartacus:  I know nothing.  Nothing!  And I want to know.  I want to-I want to know.

Varinia:  Know what?

Spartacus:  Everything. Why a star falls and a bird doesn't.  Where the sun goes at night.  Why the moon changes shape.  I want to know where the wind comes from.

There are, of course, things about which I am conversant at the drop of a hat.  We all have those areas about which we can speak readily and intelligently.  For me those tend to fall along the lines of the Latin language, Roman history, certain authors, and particular strands of philosophy and theology.  I can also entertain friends with quick knowledge of film lines and song lyrics, in both cases mostly from the 1960s through the early 1990s.  And although my knowledge in those areas can be at times rather broad and deep, a brief consideration will reveal just how circumscribed my expertise really is.  I would be embarrassed to admit what I know about cars, plumbing, electricity, chemistry, physics, astronomy, botany, biology, economics, marketing, computer science, art, opera, musical instruments, musical composition, cooking, sewing, meteorology, psychology, medicine, blacksmithing, the stock market, and farming.  And, when you get right down to it, even in my chosen field of Classics and preferred areas of knowledge, there are now and certainly were in ages past many who knew more.  I am no Theodor Mommsen, of whom Mark Twain once remarked upon observing him at a celebratory function, "Here he was, carrying the Roman world and all the Caesars in his hospitable skull, and doing it as easily as that other luminous vault, and the skull of the universe, carries the Milky Way and the constellations."

Theodor Mommsen, 1817-1903

Tantalizing Ignorance

Ignorance can be daunting or it can be tantalizing, and for those who enjoy learning, it is the latter.  As Kirk Douglas's Spartacus said, I want to know, and this is why I love to read in subjects outside my expertise and enjoy talking with people who can help me learn.  It is thrilling to ask questions of friends at lunch or over coffee or at dinner and to follow the delightfully labyrinthine path of discovery.  There is a time in our life, to be sure, when we care more about appearing foolish and do not want anyone to realize what we do not know, and this leads us not only to avoid asking questions but even to put on airs and pretend to knowledge we do not possess.  Hopefully most of us move beyond that stage as we mature and come to see that it is more important, in the words of Cicero and Sallust, esse quam videri, to be rather than to seem.

It is complimentary when students think their teachers know something, and the kind comments I have received from students mean the world to me.  Yet one day they will find that there was much more their Latin teacher did not know than that he did, and hopefully their own ignorance about the world will be more tantalizing than daunting, drawing them on along the never ending journey of learning.