Recently I started re-reading Meditations, initially on my e-reader via an EPUB from Standard Ebooks. While it is, as usual from Standard Ebooks, well presented, I still found myself feeling that it was in some way lacking compared to a couple of dead-tree copies that I knew I had lying around but hadn’t bothered to dig out.

Spurred on by this, I went rummaging through my shelves (it’s not hoarding if it’s books…) to see if I could find exactly why I was dissatisfied. Both paper copies turned out to be quite different from each other and the e-book, which in turn is what led me down this rabbit-hole of translations.

Meditations was, of course, originally written in Greek, and has been translated into English many times over the years. Each translation has its own character, depending on the era in which it was written, and the style and goals of the translator. This means that if you just search “Meditations” on Amazon and grab the first one that pops up, you might end up with a version that is not suited to your tastes or needs— and it often takes a bit of searching to even find who the translator was for a particular edition.

Before getting too deep into the text, I decided to take a short diversion and evaluate some translations, so that I could enjoy spending my time with one that suited me. Perhaps this review will help someone else avoid falling down the same rabbit hole. As a caveat, I should note that I don’t read classical Greek, so I am not qualified to comment on different versions from a technical perspective; I’m choosing based on what I find readable and amenable to study.

What am I looking for in a translation?

It is important to start by recognising that there can never be one “best” translation of a whole work. Translation is an art rather than an exact science; the challenge is to walk a fine and shifting line between remaining as faithful as possible to the structure of the original on the one hand, and on the other producing a text that is readable, flows well, and is easy to comprehend in the target language. Which side of this line one errs on depends on the aims of the translation; a version intended for close study, especially linguistic study, will prefer to stay as near as possible to the source, even at the cost of some occasionally awkward phrasing in the resultant text. Other translators will permit themselves more latitude in phrasing in order to produce a text that reads more naturally and is more accessible to contemporary readers who are reading a book for its core message. Of course, “natural-sounding” changes over time; older translations start to sound somewhat stilted to modern ears.

My purpose in reading the book is not linguistic study, but rather to dig into Marcus Aurelius’ philosophical message and musings. While I certainly can read any of the translations, since I am not a scholar of the classics I’d prefer a version that reads naturally and comes as little as possible between me and the source material; like I’ve filched the emperor’s journal from his nightstand and am leafing through it. Having sampled the various translations to which I have access, there are a few features that contribute to my enjoyment and ease of reading:

Reasonably modern prose. This is to a large extent a matter of taste, and is certainly a very difficult line for a translator to walk. To give an example of the effect, both Long and Haines use archaic English pronouns when the author is addressing himself in the second person: “Say to thyself”, “Be thou”, etc. The other translations all use “you”, “yourself”. Sadly I can’t read the original to tell whether the Greek it was written in would have conveyed the same archaic sense to a contemporary reader, but my feeling is that it’s unlikely; it was after all a man’s thoughts “to himself.” To me the use of unnecessarily archaic language in a reasonably modern translation is jarring; it takes away from the initimacy at the heart of the book, almost as if the translators were trying to imbue the work with a sense of the gravitas of Biblical pronouncements.
A related issue is “censoring” the translation to make it in some way either academically acceptable or publishable according to the mores of the time. An example here comes from the end of book 5, chapter 12, which quotes a popular saying about wealth from Antonius’ time. Haines translates the quote as “for his very wealth of goods he has no place to ease himself in.” Long and Staniforth both use some variant of the same; “has not a place to ease himself in”, “no room left to ease himself.” Hays, by contrast, gives us “the one whose abundance leaves their owner with ‘… no place to shit.’”, and Hammond is even more to the point: “He is so rich, he has no room to shit.” It doesn't take too much imagination to see which of these is closest to something that is actually likely to have been a popular saying. Haines even includes a footnote commenting on the coarsness of the expression. Well, if it is coarse in the original then render it coarsely; to do otherwise is to misrepresent the original author, obscuring his voice and introducing needless ambiguity into the work just in order to maintain what you consider to be academic decency.
Layout. The Standard Ebooks edition (I’m not going to pick on the Long translation for this, since printed versions may do a better job) formats the text simply as a continuous flow of text, as though it were a normal book. The thing is, it’s not a normal book intended to be read from beginning to end in a structured manner. It’s much closer to a journal; each short “chapter” being a single entry or standalone thought. The chapters are too short to be worth starting a new page for every one; some are only a single sentence; but they do need to be typeset so that they are obvious rather than just disappearing into a flow of prose. Ranking the different versions I have:
- Hammond (Penguin Classics): Excellent
- Staniforth (Penguin Great Ideas) / Hays (Modern Library): Marked, blank line between chapters
- Haines (Loeb): Marked, no blank line
- Long (Standard Ebooks): Nothing
Notes and additional context. The book often makes reference to names or works that would have been immediately familar to the author or to an educated contemporary; not so the average reader today! Not being a specialist in the classics, I find a lot of value in notes that illuminate these references and put particular chapters or sections into historical context; this is a different form of “translation” required to make the original accessible to a reader separated from the world of the author by two millennia.

Summaries

What follows is my own brief summary of the versions I could find copies of with some degree of ease, presented in chronological order of their original date of publication.

For each version I have included the first parts of book 2 chapters 1 and 2, to give a sense of how the translation reads in a longer piece of text and to enable direct comparison. Also quoted are the first two chapters of book 1; these should help identify a translation if all you have to go on is an excerpt of the start of the book.

George Long

The oldest vaguely modern translation, this was originally published in 1862. Due to it being comfortably out of any form of copyright, this is the version used by Standard Ebooks that triggered this review.

Samples

Book 2 Chapter 1:

Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busybody, the ungrateful, arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these things happen to them by reason of their ignorance of what is good and evil. But I who have seen the nature of the good that it is beautiful, and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who does wrong, that it is akin to me, not only of the same blood or seed, but that it participates in the same intelligence and the same portion of the divinity, I can neither be injured by any of them, for no one can fix on me what is ugly, nor can I be angry with my kinsman, nor hate him.

Book 2 Chapter 2:

Whatever this is that I am, it is a little flesh and breath, and the ruling part. Throw away thy books; no longer distract thyself: it is not allowed; but as if thou wast now dying, despise the flesh; it is blood and bones and a network, a contexture of nerves, veins, and arteries. See the breath also, what kind of a thing it is, air, and not always the same, but every moment sent out and again sucked in.

Book 1:

1: From my grandfather Verus I learned good morals and the government of my temper.

2: From the reputation and remembrance of my father, modesty and a manly character.

Additional material

Some brief endnotes, linked from the text, provide some context and discuss difficulties in the translation.

Haines

First published in 1916; part of the Loeb Classical Library. The book is entitled simply “Marcus Aurelius.” Similar to the Long translation, the language here is rather stilted; more so than I would expect for something written only in 1916, as though the author were trying to flavour the work (see discussion above in the first section of What I’m looking for.) This can occasionally yield some very quotable phrases, but in general I find it a distraction.

Samples

Book 2 Chapter 1:

Say to thyself at daybreak: I shall come across the busy-body, the thankless, the overbearing, the treacherous, the envious, the unneighbourly. All this has befallen them because they know not good from evil. But I, in that I have comprehended the nature of the Good that it is beautiful, and the nature of Evil that it is ugly, and the nature of the wrong-doer himself that it is akin to me, not as partaker of the same blood and seed but of intelligence and a morsel of the Divine, can neither be injured by any of them —for no one can involve me in what is debasing—nor can I be wroth with my kinsman and hate him.

Book 2 Chapter 2:

This that I am, whatever it be, is mere flesh and a little breath and the ruling Reason. Away with thy books! Be no longer drawn aside by them: it is not allowed. But as one already dying disdain the flesh: it is naught but gore and bones and a network compact of nerves and veins and arteries. Look at the breath too, what sort of thing it is; air; and not even that always the same, but every minute belched forth and again gulped down.

Book 1:

1: From my Grandfather Verus, a kindly disposition and sweetness of temper.

2: From what I heard of my Father and memory of him, modesty and manliness.

Additional material

Like the rest of the Loeb Classical Library, the major feature of this book is that it also contains the original text that was used as the basis for the translation; the Greek on one page, the corresponding English on the facing page.

In addition to the core text, this volume also contains:

A brief introduction.
An introduction to Stoicism.
Translations of a selection of speeches and sayings of Marcus Aurelius.
A discussion on Marcus’ attitude to Christians.
Indices of concepts and names
A glossary of Greek terms

Maxwell Staniforth

First published in 1964. My version is a paperback from the Penguin “Great Ideas” series. The Folio Society’s edition of Meditations uses the same translation, but it’s sadly no longer in print.

Samples

Book 2 Chapter 1:

Begin each day by telling yourself: Today I shall be meeting with interference, ingratitude, insolence, disloyalty, ill-will, and selfishness—all of them due to the offenders’ ignorance of what is good or evil. But for my part I have long perceived the nature of good and its nobility, the nature of evil and its meanness, and also the nature of the culprit himself, who is my brother (not in the physical sense, but as a fellow-creature similarly endowed with reason and a share of the divine); therefore none of those things can injure me, for nobody can implicate me in what is degrading. Neither can I be angry with my brother or fall foul of him.

Book 2 Chapter 2:

A little flesh, a little breath, and a Reason to rule all—that is myself. (Forget your books; no more hankering for them; they were no part of your equipment.) As one already on the threshold of death, think nothing of the first—of its viscid blood, its bones, its web of nerves and veins and arteries. The breath, too; what is that? A whiff of wind; and not even the same wind, but every moment puffed out and drawn in anew.

Book 1:

1: Courtesy and serenity of temper I first learnt to known from my grandfather Verus.

2: Manliness without ostentation I learnt from what I have heard and remember of my father.

Additional material

Essentially nothing. This book starts and ends with the core material, although it does include some helpful footnotes contextualising references.

Gregory Hays

First published in 2003.

My edition is “published” by Modern Library, although published may be too kind a term. The printed book as a physical artefact does neither the original work nor the translation any favours. It has—not too put too fine a point on it—been shat onto cheap bleached paper by someone who has disregarded all the typographical knowledge that has been carefully accumulated since the days of Gutenberg. This is a shame, because the translation itself is modern and readable. It is significantly let down by its packaging.

Samples

Book 2 Chapter 1:

When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly. They are like this because they can’t tell good from evil. But I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own – not of the same blood or birth, but the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine. And so none of them can hurt me. No one can implicate me in ugliness. Nor can I feel angry at my relative, or hate him.

Book 2 Chapter 2:

Whatever this is that I am, it is flesh and a little spirit and an intelligence. Throw away your books; stop letting yourself be distracted. This is not allowed. Instead, as if you were dying right now, despise your flesh. A mess of blood, pieces of bone, a woven tangle of nerves, veins, arteries. Consider what the spirit is: air, and never the same air, but vomited out and gulped in again every instant.

Book 1:

1: My grandfather Verus Character and self-control.

2: My father (from my own memories and his reputation) Integrity and manliness.

Additional material

In addition to the core text, this volume also contains:

An introduction by the author.
A chronology.
Brief notes.
An “index of persons”.

Martin Hammond

First published in 2006; my version is the Penguin Classics Hardback.

Samples

Book 2 Chapter 1:

Say to yourself first thing in the morning: today I shall meet people who are meddling, ungrateful, aggressive, treacherous, malicious, unsocial. All this has afflicted them through their ignorance of true good and evil. But I have seen that the nature of good is what is right, and the nature of evil what is wrong; and I have reflected that the nature of the offender himself is akin to my own—not a kinship of blood or seed, but a sharing in the same mind, the same fragment of divinity. Therefore I cannot be harmed by any of them, as none will infect me with their wrong. Nor can I be angry with my kinsman or hate him.

Book 2 Chapter 2:

Whatever it is, this being of mine is made up of flesh, breath, and directing mind. Now the flesh you should disdain—blood, bones, a mere fabric and network of nerves, veins, and arteries. Consider too what breath is: wind—and not even a constant, but all the time being disgorged and sucked in again. […] Quit your books—no more hankering: this is not your gift. No, think like this, as if you were on the point of death: …

Book 1:

1: From my grandfather Verus: decency and a mild temper.

2: From what they say and I remember of my natural father: integrity and manliness.

Additional material

A chronology.
An extensive introduction, with its own notes and links to further reading.
Extremely extensive notes on almost every chapter, including cross-references by theme and some discussion. The notes occupy as many pages as the original text.
An index of names.
An index of quotations.
A general index.

Conclusion

For me, the Hammond translation stands head and shoulders above the rest.

There is some argument to made for having other versions to refer to if you’re having difficulty with the sense of a particular chapter; alternative phrasing might offer insight, and for that I’d also keep Haines and Staniforth to hand. If I could read—or wished to study—the original Greek, Haines would be an obvious choice. But if I could only have one version, the clear, readable text, the typesetting, and the extremely extensive notes make Hammond unquestionably the first choice.