The present book is the first monograph account of Themistius’ thought, written by one of the leading scholars in the field. As such, it is an essential read for anyone interested in a current, up to date, and synthetic account of a philosopher whose dramatic impact on the history of philosophy is only starting to be properly unpacked.
In the first chapter, Elisa Coda offers an informative survey of Themistius’ life, career, and method of philosophizing, citing the major places in his Orations which shed light on this topic, as well as the places in his paraphrases of Aristotle’s works in which Themistius explains his hermeneutical approach. Its main contribution is contextualizing this state of affairs within competing contemporary modes of philosophical exegesis, a discussion which has bearing on any attempt to situate Themistius within the philosophical landscape of his time.
In the second chapter, Coda discusses Themistius’ view on God, mainly relying on his paraphrase of Aristotle’s Metaphysics 12, which is traditionally taken to contain Aristotle’s “theology.” It is a useful overview that summarizes the main novelties of Themistius’ approach, with stress on his attempt to transform Aristotle’s distant and disinterested God into a cosmic ruler whose self-knowledge entails the knowledge of the existents. Like in other chapters, it argues for Themistius’ debt to Plotinus, a point to which I return below.
The third chapter discusses the cosmos and is devoted to the paraphrases of the Physics, On the Heavens, and again Metaphysics 12. This chapter is especially strong, since it convincingly synthesizes between views that Themistius holds across paraphrases. For example, Coda explores Themistius’ approach to the ensoulment of the celestial bodies alongside the question of celestial motion in the paraphrase of On the Heavens. On both issues, Aristotle seems to have contradicted himself in different parts of this work. Coda shows how Themistius smoothens the problem by explaining celestial motion as the expression of the well-being of the souls of the celestial bodies. Each individual expression of well-being is determined by the celestial body’s place in the hierarchical cosmic arrangement, in light of its relative ontological distance from God. This approach was hugely influential in Arabic philosophy (Coda elaborates on Avicenna, to whom several other figures can be added), and also harmonizes with Themistius’ positions in the paraphrase of Metaphysics 12. Another example of valuable synthesis is Coda’s productive reading of Themistius’ interpretation of the notion of matter in the paraphrase of the Physics in light of his conception of God in the paraphrase of Metaphysics 12.
Chapter four explores in detail Themistius’ paraphrase of On the Soul. After surveying the positions of Aristotle, Alexander, and Plotinus, Coda discusses Themistius’ arguments for the substantiality of the soul and the notion of common sense, which lead to a detailed analysis of his controversial theory of intellect, followed by a historical outline of its place in Averroes and Thomas Aquinas. Here, again, Themistius is presented as indebted to Plotinus.
The conclusion sums up the main arguments of the book. Regarding Themistius’ lasting impact, Coda limits the discussion to Avicenna. Expanding this to other philosophers would obviously require a study of at least equal length of the current monograph.
Three appendices contain a wealth of material concerning the presence of Themistius and his corpus in the medieval Arabic, Hebrew, and Latin traditions, including some perceptive philological insights, mainly in Arabic contexts. A scholar of ancient philosophy may wonder why so much space is allocated to medieval translations and accounts of a late antique figure, but this is essential in the case of Themistius, whose philosophical project cannot be captured adequately without appeal to his Arabic and Hebrew translations, which preserve several texts lost in their original Greek. This task requires a diverse scholarly toolset which combines philosophical analysis, knowledge of languages, and philological rigor. Coda is one of the few scholars who can navigate productively within this landscape. The result is an important contribution to the scholarship about Themistius that provides several opportunities for further study. It is a solid point of departure looking both forward and backwards for scholars who want to deepen their engagement with Themistius’ thought, as well as a treasure-trove of related discussions stretching from antiquity to the Arabic and Latin Middle Ages.
Two main methodological approaches run through the book, and they are both its main strength and its main weakness. On the one hand, they award it a coherent and compelling narrative. On the other hand, this narrative is not sufficiently substantiated to be credible.
The first approach is Coda’s insistence on the role of Plotinus in Themistius’ thought. Coda is not trying to opine about Themistius’ school affiliation, a scholarly dispute which seems (to this reviewer at least) to have run its course. Rather, she attempts to locate areas in Themistius’ thought which can be better understood with Plotinus in the background. Besides Aristotle and Plato, who are the authorities, Plotinus is presented alongside Alexander of Aphrodisias as a formative figure in Themistius’ philosophical oeuvre. In this hierarchy, Themistius is relegated to the bottom.
Alexander’s presence in Themistius’ writings is not under scholarly dispute. Concerning Plotinus, Coda argues that he is the philosopher through which one should understand the place of “Neoplatonism” in Themistius’ thought. She aspires to bring textual evidence to support this. Coda states, with confidence, that Themistius is a “careful reader of Plotinus” (16), whose influence upon him was “decisive” (177, 178). This point requires further substantiation, especially given the central position it occupies in the book. She is not forthcoming about the fact that Themistius never mentions Plotinus’ name anywhere in his writings. Only in a footnote, towards the end of the book (153), does she acknowledge (but not respond to) an existing scholarly opinion according to which nothing in Themistius can be shown to be relying on Plotinus (or, conversely, that Plotinus is not necessary to explain any of Themistius’ philosophical moves). These are major hurdles, and to overcome them is insufficient to point to similarities. One must show that there are aspects of Themistius that cannot be explained without direct appeal to Plotinus. Though the burden of proofs lies on her shoulders, Coda does not discuss any of this. Instead, she considers the textual parallels to be conclusive. I am not convinced by these parallels. There is some similarity in terminology and wording, but these could just as well be explained in terms of Themistius’ competing approach concerning the correct way to adhere to Plato given Themistius’ harmonizing scheme. Since Coda quotes generously, the reader can make their own mind about this matter.
But even if Themistius did indeed use Plotinus as a source, this would still warrant clarification. Themistius did not subscribe to positions that are most central features of Plotinus’ philosophy, such as positing a transcendent One, ontological overflow, ineffability, and the otherworldly portrait of the sage. In fact, he was openly hostile to what he refers to dismissively as “the new song”—the Platonic philosophers of his time—advocating, instead, adherence to the “ancient song” of the Academy and the Lyceum. The hostility was mutual, to the point that Themistius was pushed to compose an entire oration in defense of taking up political functions instead of adopting an otherworldly life, per the ideology of his Platonist contemporaries. In his metaphysics, Themistius is diametrically opposite to Plotinus: he attempts to render God as close to the world as possible, and politicizes the cosmos with God as its nomos (which could be understood as an alternative form of “Platonizing”). Themistius’ God is neither transcendent nor unknowable. If anything, Themistius’s approach is borderline pantheistic. These features of Themistius’ philosophy are discussed and clearly analyzed by Coda, but she does not attempt to explain the tension between textual borrowings (if exist) and doctrinal rejection.
Coda’s insistence on Plotinus sometimes causes her to read too much of him into Themistius, occasionally at the expense of a precise exposition of his philosophical views. This happens, for example, in her Plotinian interpretation of Themistius’ discussion of the First Principle’s “oneness” in the final chapter of the paraphrase of Metaphysics 12, which, if true, would have Themistius contradict everything he wrote up to that point. Furthermore, I do not see why one should claim that “Themistius draws on the Plotinian doctrine of Nous to explain how God intelligizes” (43); there is no substantiation to the claim that God is “transcendent” (68–69; see my note above); and he does not advance a theory of ontological procession or emanation.
Concerning the discussion of spontaneous generation in the end of chapter 2 (69–80) and in Appendix 2, some corrections are also due. Themistius does not write that the “Soul that is in the Earth” puts forms in matter (116). Rather, this strange entity actualizes (or “inspires”) the logoi, which are latent forms that nature had already put in matter. Additionally, Coda’s remark that Themistius never criticizes Aristotle (76n114) is imprecise: he does just that in his paraphrase of Metaphysics 12.2, concerning Aristotle’s notion that plurality has only one principle. In this case, as well as in the case of spontaneous generation, Themistius’ critique of Aristotle does not undermine his adherence to Aristotle; it is constructive, sympathetic, and (as Coda herself notes) offers an occasion to harmonize Plato and Aristotle. (Concerning the relevant passage, Coda argues in Appendix 2 for an interpolation lifted from the Arabic Theology of Aristotle, which I believe is neither necessary nor philologically defensible, but again—readers can judge for themselves.)
The second approach is Coda’s claim that “Themistius is not presented here as a creative thinker” (18). Rather, he “testifies to a way of studying the Aristotelian philosophy which was widespread in the fourth century, and which he practiced in his school” (18). This is a bit strange, because Coda does a remarkable job in showing just how creative Themistius was. More concretely, there is no evidence to show that Themistius’ way of studying Aristotle’s philosophy was widespread. One could just as well argue that his way of studying was idiosyncratic or even reactionary. Nevertheless, this approach can explain why Coda’s description of Themistius sometimes amounts to deprecating value judgments. When discussing Themistius’s interpretation of Aristotle’s cryptic remarks on the intellect, Coda maintains that Themistius is “far from being innocent” (159); and his use of Aristotle’s text is “manipulative” (156) and “distorting” (159). Would we say the same about Plotinus’ reading of Plato or Alexander’s reading of Aristotle? A charitable reader would argue, instead, that Themistius’ exegesis is “original, “daring,” or “bold.” Philosophers have always made other philosophers’ ideas work for them, and Themistius is no exception. His paraphrases of Aristotle were not only vehicles of teaching or interpretation. They were also rhetorical devices that enabled him to develop his own philosophical views under the veil of adherence to authority and the blurring of lines between Aristotle’s voice and his own. In other words, Themistius knew exactly what he was doing.
As in his own lifetime, Themistius remains a polarizing figure, and us scholars will continue to argue about him. The disagreements mentioned here reflect this. But they by no means detract from the importance of Coda’s book. If anything, they reinforce it. Coda’s book opens many doors. Engaging with it—even critically—secures the prosperity of Themistius’ philosophical legacy.