Ancient Philosophy, Mystery, and Magic: Empedocles and Pythagorean Tradition by Peter Kingsley. Oxford University Press, 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, 1995; 422 pp., $75.00 cloth; $24.95 paper

Reviewed by David Fideler

Our understanding of the Presocratic philosophers has been characterized by a tradition of misunderstanding. In the wake of European rationalism, eminent scholars have supposed that the whole trajectory of Western philosophy should be seen as a progressive march from primitive, mythological consciousness (mythos) to the clear light of scientific reason (logos). Even the earliest Greek philosophers have routinely been seen as struggling precursors of the Enlightenment ideal.

Some scholars, such as E. R. Dodds, have rightly questioned this notion. Dodds, for example, pointed out the connection between Orphism, Pythagoreanism, and shamanism in his classic work The Greeks and the Irrational (1951). But the one individual who has made this field his own in recent years is the British scholar Peter Kingsley, who now lives in Canada. Several years ago, fate transported me to a lecture of his at Kathleen Raine's Temenos Academy in London. Drawing upon recent archeological discoveries, he lucidly explained how Parmenides's famous poem, revealed to him by a goddess, had ties with the South Italian mystery traditions and dream incubation.

Kingsley's new book, Ancient Philosophy, Mystery, and Magic, continues his exploration of this fertile terrain, with emphasis on Empedocles and the Pythagorean tradition. And in this work, Kingsley has brought a vast amount of scholarship to bear on the subject ­ an amount that can seem, at times, almost overwhelming.

As an aside, if you enjoy splitting hairs, then perhaps you should consider becoming a classical scholar. Unlike the study of insects or quantum physics, where new things are being discovered constantly, all of the important Greek and Latin texts have already been translated, analyzed, and commented upon. Specialization is therefore a key to professional advancement, as is a thorough command of ancient languages, a vast secondary literature in German and French, and a host of assorted philological minutiae ­ no wonder, then, that the Germans have set the standard. But because the field has already been so thoroughly mined, classical scholarship today produces little that is of general interest, and tends to get mired down in debating technicalities that threaten to extinguish the attention of even the most hardy souls.

Fortunately for us, Kingsley's work, while firmly rooted in the academic tradition, is unique in the way that it teases out new insights from texts that have been studied for decades, but misunderstood. Kingsley's scholarship is wide-ranging and impeccable, but is more than just a scientific enterprise of classifying this and that. He is able to draw new conclusions about the relationships between Greek philosophy and ancient mystery traditions that have long been staring us in the face, but have escaped recognition because scholars have been looking in another direction.

In addition to discussing the relationship between early philosophy, the mystery religions, and magic in general, Kingsley focuses on the ties between the Pythagorean tradition, Empedocles, Plato, Orphism, and the volcanic terrain of Sicily and South Italy. Later excursions also draw in such topics as Hemeticism, the Greek magical papyri, and alchemy.

Empedocles, it will be remembered, was the first Greek philosopher to describe the four elements ­ Earth, Water, Air (aither), and Fire. Fragments of his two poems, On Nature and The Purifications, remain, and he is said to have been connected with the Pythagorean school, which was also based in South Italy. While there are definite shamanistic and magical elements present in Empedocles's poems, some scholars have tried to rationalize this material away because Empedocles was, after all, a philosopher, and you obviously can't be a philosopher and a magician at the same time. Kingsley believes that this type of either/or thinking is based on a false dichotomy which obscures our vision of the historical realities. Rather, he assumes that the surviving texts reflect the philosopher's genuine beliefs: "Empedocles claims he is immortal, that he has transcended the human condition, and is able through his mystical or occult powers to free men and women from their mortal sufferings."

Because the book touches upon a vast amount of material, it is hard to summarize in a short review. But one central thread revolves around the volcanic activity, craters, and hot springs of South Italy. According to legend, Empedocles threw himself into the volcanic crater of Mount Etna, trying to fool everyone into thinking that he was a god by causing his body to disappear. But the volcano gave away the vanishing act, by vomiting up his sandal of bronze. Such a tale might seem innocent on the surface, but bronze sandals are a rare commodity, and Kingsley documents how they were associated with the goddess Hecate and initiations into the mysteries of the Underworld. Empedocles identified Hades with the element of Fire, and the volcanoes and craters of South Italy were sites of initiatic and religious mysteries. Kingsley details how the mythic tale of Empedocles's descent into the crater is associated with ancient ideas of divinization and apotheosis. By making an initiatory descent into the volcano, Empedocles was able to ascend to the gods in heaven via a column of fire.

Kingsley also shows how the volcanic activity of South Italy figured in the earlier Pythagorean tradition about the "Central Fire" of the universe. Similarly, Plato is known to have visited Archytas and other Pythagorean philosophers in South Italy, and Kingsley demonstrates convincingly how the famous description of seething volcanic geography in Plato's Phaedo myth is rooted in the Pythagoreanism of Italy.

Ancient Philosophy, Mystery, and Magic provides a storehouse of new insights and expands our understanding of the complex background of Greek philosophical thought. Without doubt, its central arguments are compelling and backed up with a intimidatingly vast scholarly apparatus. But Kingsley's careful attention to minute detail and his highly analytical approach makes the book difficult going ­ as he himself admits in the concluding line, "No one said it would be easy." That said, I found myself feeling that many of the finer details, while opening interesting pathways, were extraneous to the overall trajectory of the text. If the author had taken greater pains to integrate the various sub-arguments into a more coherent central narrative ­ or even included some type of concluding summary ­ it would have contributed to the strength of the book. Nonetheless, this is without question an important volume that will stimulate thought and discussion for many years to come.