This is one of the most life changing book I have read. I shall give a full review at a later date.

Rereading this book I am reminded once again how powerful it is and how modern it seems to be. Like all classics it bears rereading and yields new insights each time I read it. But it also is unchanging in ways that struck me when I first read it; for Augustine's Confessions is both an apologetic account of his intellectual search for understanding and wisdom, yet in pursuing that search finding a rootlessness due to an ultimate dissatisfaction with different philosophical positions that he explores. From the carnality of his youth to the moment in the Milanese Garden when his perspective changed forever you the story is an earnest and sincere exposition of his personal growth. You do not have to be a Catholic or even a believer to appreciate the impact of events in the life of the young Augustine. The certainty for which Augustine strives is not found in philosophy alone, but rather in faith, only Christian faith, is this certainty possible for him. Having recently read Cicero myself, I was impressed that Cicero's writing had an important impact on Augustine.

His relations with his mother, Monica, are among those that still have impact on the modern reader. The combination of his personal insights, relations with friends and teachers, and the unusual (for his time) psychological portrait make one realize that this is one of those "Great" books that remind you that true insight into the human condition transcends time and place.

Free download available at Project Gutenberg.

While I have read FROM Augustine widely, I have never read a complete work all the way through until now. It seemed appropriate to begin reading Augustine in full with this timeless classic. I greatly enjoyed it, and highly recommend it. I only give it 3 stars for the fact that after describing Augustine's "conversion" (arguably, that moment in the garden describes a different moment as he already believed in God and the truth of Christianity though he did not fully surrender to Christ until this moment), it seems to wander into an extensive, out of place meditation on the first chapters of Genesis.

Há muito que queria ler as Confissões de Agostinho de Hipona. Achava curioso que um «santo» tivesse exposto a sua vida numa altura em que os intelectuais e os religiosos se debatiam ainda com o legado platónico e aristotélico, por um lado, e por outro com a legitimação do cristianismo trinitário (ou catolicismo), resultante do primeiro concílio de Niceia (325), face às múltiplas «heresias» que vinham grassando por todo o espaço do Império Romano. Agostinho (n. 354-m. 430), refere-o aqui, aderiu à heresia maniqueísta até aos 28 anos, altura em que se dirige a Roma e depois a Milão. Aí, através das conversações com Ambrósio, bispo daquela cidade, abraçará o catolicismo e dedicar-se-á a combater as correntes doutrinárias que em Niceia haviam sido consideradas heréticas. Muito do que escreverá ao longo da sua vida, de carácter teológico-filosófico-psicológico, é movido pela vontade de arrasar os sofismas dos arianos, maniqueus, donatistas e pelagianos, mas também contra os académicos (dualistas) e neo-platónicos.

Formado em retórica durante a juventude em Tagaste, cidade onde nasce, e em Cartago depois, será mais tarde professor em Roma. Toda essa informação nos é dada nos primeiros 8 livros deste livro (composto por 13 no total), juntamente com uma proclamação dos dogmas da Trindade. Agostinho expõe os seus pecados da carne, o seu concubinato até aos anos de Milão, as travessuras de criança, a sua relação com a escola (onde pelos vistos não gostava de estar) e com a família. É, se quisermos, um santo a mostrar-se homem. Santo ou não (prefiro chamar-lhe só Agostinho), é um dos grandes génios da humanidade a contar-nos a sua vida e a lamentar os seus erros. Vai, por isso, muito para além dos faits divers: o conhecimento da Bíblia e dos autores gregos e latinos atravessa todo o livro, assim como as disputas teológicas da época, o que nem sempre é fácil de acompanhar. É, no entanto, um documento histórico impressionante e de grande valor, sobretudo para o conhecimento dos sécs. IV-V.

Agostinho nasce entre a promulgação do Édito de Milão (313), que terminava com as perseguições aos hereges (cristãos e judeus) e outorgava uma liberdade de culto, e o Édito de Tessalónica (380), que estabelecia o cristianismo como culto oficial do Imperador e do Império. (Os restantes cultos, de acordo com aquele édito, eram doravante julgados «dementes e loucos sobre os quais pesará a infâmia da heresia» [reliquos vero dementes vesanosque iudicantes haeretici dogmatis infamiam sustinere], curiosamente). Assiste, em 395, à morte do imperador Teodósio I e à consequente divisão do Império Romano entre Ocidente (cuja queda acontece em 476, embora Carlos Magno volte a reivindicar o título imperial no ano de 800, sob a designação de Sacro Império Romano-Germânico, e que perduraria até 1806) e Oriente (que subsistirá com a designação de Império Bizantino até 1453). Não viveu o suficiente para assistir à presúria de Roma pelos povos germânicos, mas os seus 75 anos de vida serviram-lhe para sintetizar muito do pensamento anterior e projectar o pensamento medieval. Não é pouca coisa.

De facto, os pensamentos de Agostinho influenciaram muito do que se escreveu ao longo da Idade Média. Desde a adopção do estilo de vida monástico do bispo de Hipona, preconizada pelos cónegos regrantes de Santo Agostinho (que se fixam em Santa Cruz de Coimbra por outorga de Afonso Henriques, por exemplo, de onde emanariam uma forte influência espiritual e cultural, produzindo várias hagiografias, anais e crónicas entre o séc. XII e XV, mas também posteriormente) e outros ramos da chamada família agostiniana regrante, à influência intelectual. Nesse domínio são exemplos a Autobiografia de Guibert de Nogent, confessional ao estilo agostiniano, os Contra de Tomás de Aquino ou o De planctu eclesiae de Álvaro Pais (um ilustre desconhecido que em boa verdade devíamos conhecer, ou ouvir falar, tanto quanto Aquino ou Agostinho). Na realidade a influência de Agostinho ainda não cessou de se exercer. O que escreve aqui sobre o tempo, sobre a memória ou sobre a verdade pode ainda hoje servir para iniciar uma profunda e séria reflexão. Noutros casos, entrega-se a dogmas de que ainda hoje a Igreja se alimenta. São por isso as confissões e o pensar de um homem de fé. Essencialmente, um homem.

Gonna be a contrarian here. There are certain great Christian writers and thinkers whose works are to a certain extent separable from their faiths. That is, you don't have to buy their basic religiosity to appreciate them, and perhaps even appreciate them immensely. Giambattista Vico and Thomas Browne come immediately to mind. But others-- including Augustine-- are so theocentric that unless you buy into their world, you're not going to get much out of it.

Simply put, my irreligion made Augustine's thelogical deliberations all seem like dross. My problematic relationship with Platonist doctrine puts me at odds with his philosophical meanderings-- albeit with some notable exceptions-- and a dislike of his style as a perpetual beseeching of God makes the biographical parts unpalatable.

Historically important for sure, but not my scene.

I taught pieces of this for decades, in both sophomore "World/Western Lit" pt 1 and around the High Holidays, subbing for my rabbi friend (and Philosophy Ph.D). Augustine was converted by Ambrose in Mediolanum/ Milan, where my daughter has lived two decades, and where now the oldest church is named Ambrosiana. Before appointed bishop, he had been the governor-"prefect" of Liguria, as had his father of Gaul.
Augustine had gone to hear the First Bishop of Milan's rhetoric, since Aug had studied rhetoric in Rome--I think with a Gk teacher, probably a rich slave. Augustine had brought his lover and child from Hippo, No Africa; when he finally decides, converted, to marry, he keeps his child, sends the mother back to Africa, and waits a couple years for his fiancee to achieve majority.
What is wrong with this picture? Nothing, for an Evangelical. Confessions, indeed.
This was long before seven Popes lived in France, Avignon, in the 1300s. Milan was the capital of the Western Roman empire 286-ca 400, when the Pope had to move to Ravenna.

I saw reflections of myself in Augustine's Confessions, and I was encouraged by it.

Confessions ~ Saint Augustine
In the opinion of some highly respected friends, Augustine’s Confessions is the greatest book ever written, though it is difficult to see how the book could have come to be without the Bible standing before it. Nor could Augustine have been the same A1, the protagonist of the biography, or A2, the author of The Confessions whom we have come to know, without Cicero’s Hortensius or Vergil’s Aeneid, books that were influential in his life, books which in turn, could not have been written without The Annals of Quintus Ennius or The Iliad and The Odyssey of Homer. Everything in the tradition is connected, and in the tradition the story of man is always a quest to get back home.

Homer’s Odyssey is the story of an exile attempting to return home. Vergil’s Aeneid is the story of an exile seeking the fated place upon which to establish a new home (and this journey too emerges as a return, for the Trojans are originally Ausonians). There are beautiful parallels between the journeys of Aeneas and Augustine: both of them stop in Carthage on their way to Rome. Augustine’s Confessions, like the parable of the prodigal son, is also the story of a journey home, a journey that can only end in the Kingdom of Heaven; this he reveals in the first paragraph of his address to God: Tu excitas, ut laudare te delectet, quia fecisti nos ad te et inquietum est cor nostrum, donec requiescat in te.“You move us to delight in praising you, because you made us for yourself, and our heart is restless, until it rests in you” (I. i (1).

Whereas Odysseus and Aeneas make their journies on the physical and horizontal earthly plane, Augustine’s (and every man’s) homeward journey is the vertical ascent of the soul in its return to God. In his Nichomachean Ethics Aristotle had already discovered that all men desire to be happy, and Cicero in his Hortensius had connected happiness to the love and pursuit of wisdom: Philosophy. “Seek Wisdom” is also the message of the Biblical Book of Proverbs. God is that wisdom that offers permanent, enduring, eternal happiness, not merely some temporal passing image of the thing (of which a drunken beggar on the streets of Milan offers one illustration, for that beggar will thirst again), but the water welling up to eternal life that quenches thirst forever (Jn. 4:13-15). Our heart is restless, until it rests in you.

Indeed, all men are restless; all are pursuing happiness. Some spend their lives in the pursuit of things that they believe will make them happy: sex, opium, wine, fame, money, professional ambitions, political power. Augustine discovers that his weight is his love, that wherever he is carried, his love is carrying him (XIII.ix (1). The proper home of man is ultimately where the Father dwells in the Heaven of Heaven, but to arrive there one must be lifted up by placing one’s love in the Father. Otherwise, our love for earthly things––even beautiful earthly things––pulls us downwards and away and we are lost in a sea of woes; the only thing that will heal man’s restlessness is a return to the father. This is the human condition: God is often referred to as the Great Physician, man is the patient, sin is the sickness. Augustine reflects that we must have some memory of happiness, some idea of what the thing is, for otherwise, without any recollection of it, we would not even know to be looking for it. Where has this memory come from, if it is not some genetic memory of Eden lost?

The Confessions are revealed across thirteen books, all of which are biographical, but of which the last four show us Augustine, already a converted Christian, in contemplation of deep wonders, relying on God and scripture to help him understand memory, time and eternity, formless matter, and an interpretation of the account of creation in Genesis, that is as beautiful as it is deep. He discusses the Trinity as well, and says that the unity of the Trinity is obvious to anyone through introspection, and this invites comparison of man with God through the tripartite organization of the Platonic soul. Earlier in the book there are sections delving into the problem of evil in the world, the possible coexistence of absolute and relative ethics, friendship. True friendship, is only possible between those who share the holy spirit.

Throughout all twelve books there are beautiful passages. Augustine is a professional rhetorician––though he abandons this carreer eventually. He is also the most intelligent man in the Roman Empire of his day, and he likely knows this––in his Confessions he gives an account of time and eternity in AD 400 that physicists today continue to agree with––and yet he is completely incapable of overcoming his own lust, but he continues to pursue wisdom, and eventually discovers its Source, receives the necessary grace finally to let go of his passions, reaches out instead to accept Lady Chastity in a vision, and is healed forever.

This is the seventh time that I have read this book; I always finish it at a time of year when I am so busy with other things, that I have never had time for an adequate review. The same is now the case, and I can do no justice to the beauty, depth, and richness of The Confessions (perhaps it is not even possible for me) but I shall briefly collect here and point out some of the beautiful passages in the book that I have found moving:

n  On his mothern
But I shall not pass over whatever my soul may bring to birth concerning your servant [Monica], who brought me to birth both in her body so that I was born into the light of time, and in her heart so that I was born into the light of eternity (IX. viii (17).

n  On his first encounter with holy scripturen
I therefore decided to give attention to the holy scriptures and to find out what they were like. And this is what met me: something neither open to the proud nor laid bare to mere children; a text lowly to the beginner but, on further reading, of mountainous difficulty and enveloped in mysteries. I was not in any state to be able to enter into that, or to bow my head to climb its steps. What I am now saying did not then enter my mind when I gave my attention to the scripture. It seemed to me unworthy in comparison with the dignity of Cicero. My inflated conceit shunned the Bible’s restraint, and my gaze never penetrated to its inwardness. Yet the Bible was composed in such a way that as beginners mature, its meaning grows with them. I disdained to be a little beginner. Puffed up with pride, I considered myself a mature adult (III. v. (9).

n  Of his hope of return to the Father and of the beauty of Heavenn
O house full of light and beauty! ‘I have loved your beauty and the place of the habitation of the glory of my Lord’ (Ps. 25: 7-9), who built you and owns you. During my wandering may my longing be for you! I ask him who made you that he will also make me his property in you, since he also made me. ‘I have gone astray like a sheep that is lost’ (Ps. 118: 176). But on the shoulders of my shepherd, who built you, I hope to be carried back to you (Luke 15: 4 f.) (XII. xv (21).

n  Of memoryn
I come to the fields and vast palaces of memory (X. viii (12). . . Memory’s huge cavern, with its mysterious, secret, and indescribable nooks and crannies (X. viii (13). . . The vast hall of my memory (X. viii (14).

This power of memory is great, very great, my God. It is a vast and infinite profundity. Who has plumbed its bottom? This power is that of my mind and is a natural endowment, but I myself cannot grasp the totality of what I am. Is the mind, then, too restricted to compass itself, so that we have to ask what is that element of itself which it fails to grasp? Surely that cannot be external to itself; it must be within the mind. How then can it fail to grasp it? This question moves me to great astonishment. Amazement grips me. People are moved to wonder by mountain peaks, by vast waves of the sea, by broad waterfalls on rivers, by the all-embracing extent of the ocean, by the revolutions of the stars. But in themselves they are uninterested. They experience no surprise that when I was speaking of all these things, I was not seeing them with my eyes (X. ix (15).

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Of memory Augustine elsewhere discovers that it is full of the images of things, and not the true objects themselves, but there are other things in memory which turn out to be the true things themselves, of which in the external world we contemplate the mere images through our sense-perception, e.g. a mathematical form. Is God as well like this within our memory? Augustine has his visions, by looking within, and making the climb upwards into the citadel of his mind, from where with his mind’s eye he looks upward to encounter the light that is life and wisdom, the light that has created him. (These things invite comparison with the analogy of the cave in Plato’s Republic.

And here is one final extended passage from the eleventh book where Augustine speaks to God in prayer, before embarking upon an exploration of time and eternity. There is no incompatibility between faith and science:

(3)tLord my God, ‘hear my prayer’ (Ps. 60: 2), may your mercy attend to my longing which burns not for my personal advantage but desires to be of use in love to the brethren. You see in my heart that this is the case. Let me offer you in sacrifice the service of my thinking and my tongue, and grant that which I am to offer, ‘for I am poor and needy’ (Ps. 65: 15; 85: 1). You are ‘rich to all who call upon you’ (Rom. 10: 12). You have no cares but take care of us. Circumcise my lips (cf. Exod. 6: 12), inwardly and outwardly, from all rashness and falsehood. May your scriptures be my pure delight, so that I am not deceived in them and do not lead others astray in interpreting them. ‘Lord, listen and have mercy’ (Ps. 26: 7; 85: 3), Lord my God, light of the blind and strength of the weak––and constantly also light of those who can see and strength of the mighty. Listen to my soul and hear it crying from the depth. For if your ears are not present also in the depth, where shall we go? To whom shall we cry? ‘The day is yours and the night is yours’ (Ps. 73: 16). At your nod the moments fly by. From them grant us space for our meditations on the secret recesses of your law, and do not close the gate to us as we knock. It is not for nothing that by your will so many pages of scripture are opaque and obscure. These forests are not without deer which recover their strength in them and restore themselves by walking and feeding, by resting and ruminating (Ps. 28: 9). O Lord, bring me to perfection (Ps. 16: 5) and reveal to me the meaning of these pages. See, your voice is my joy, your voice is better than a wealth of pleasures (Ps. 118: 22). Grant what I love; for I love it, and that love was your gift. Do not desert your gifts, and do not despise your plant as it thirsts. Let me confess to you what I find in your books. ‘Let me hear the voice of praise’ (Ps. 25:7) and drink you, and let me consider ‘wonderful things out of your law’ (Ps. 118:18)––from the beginning in which you made heaven and earth until the perpetual reign with you in your heavenly city (Rev. 5: 10; 21: 2).

(4) t‘Lord have mercy upon me and listen to my desire’ (Ps. 26: 7). For I do not think my longing is concerned with earthly things, with gold and silver and precious stones, or with fine clothes or honours and positions of power or fleshly pleasures or even with the body’s necessities in this life of our pilgrimage. They are all things added to us as we seek your kingdom and your righteousness (Matt. 6: 33). My God, look upon the object of my desire (cf. Ps. 9: 14). ‘The wicked have told me of delights, but they are not allowed by your law, Lord’ (Ps. 118: 85). See Father: look and see and give your approval. May it please you that in the sight of your mercy (Ps. 18: 15) I may find grace before you, so that to me as I knock (Matt. 7: 7) may be opened the hidden meaning of your words. I make my prayer through our Lord Jesus Christ your Son, ‘the man of your right hand, the Son of man whom you have strengthened’ (Ps. 79: 18) to be mediator between yourself and us. By him you sought us when we were not seeking you (Rom. 10: 20). But you sought us that we should seek you, your Word by whom you made all things including myself, your only Son by whom you have called to adoption the people who believe (Gal. 4: 5), myself among them. I make my prayer to you through him ‘who sits at your right hand and intercedes to you for us’ (Rom. 8: 34). ‘In him are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge’ (Col. 2: 3). For those treasures I search in your books. Moses wrote of him (John 5: 46). He himself said this; this is the declaration of the Truth. (XI.ii (3-4).

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So, what is real treasure? Are the Kingdoms of Latinus or of Croesus the more beautiful, or is it the Kingdom of Evander, or the Kingdom of the man who remains silent when Pontius Pilate asks, “What is truth?”

In Jerome’s Vulgate, the question is put thus: Quid est veritas? Jesus does not speak, but if we jumble all the letters about, we may anagrammatically construct, with perfect economy, the following response: Est vir qui adest––“It is the man standing here before you.”

If you are lost or struggling to find your way back home. He is the way, and Augustine will be a good friend and companion on the journey home. Read this book! :-)

On my second reading, now less fascinated by Augustine's story as it unfolds, I became more aware on its deeper meaning, the continuity of the book's composition, the frankness and frailty of its author. It doesn't surprise me that this time it was actually harder to read the whole thing so fast, as each chapter brought solid food for thought.

Augustine's is the story of a slow realization how one individual simply can't tame their will, their urges (however natural) and keep going without inevitably failing even though they decided firmly on their principles. To be human is always to be weak, in quite a special and non-degrading way. His faith then crystallizes into acceptance of this fact with full trust in God, whose infiniteness will make up for the human lacking.

This leads into wonderful philosophical passages on time, memory and history, which are for me the highllight of the whole book, along with a wonderful part on the death of his mother, saint Monica. This episode foreshadows the beautiful reflections in the last parts of the book, as it was a memorably visceral encounter with eternity for Augustine. I find it beautiful to see how evident it is that she was such an important inspiration of his philosophy, not only because she was a strong female character in times when it seemed it was at odds with people's general worldview, but also because such wisdom and acute philosophical insight as Augustine's was not possible without the experience of deep true love. No man's an island, we grow through our encounters.

So if you every visit my home and see Confessiones sitting on a prominent shelf in my library or anywhere near just within a reach, this is why.

I am going to take my time with this book. It'd be the first time I read this sort of thing just for the joy of it. I'm just a bit familiar with St. Augustine and while I know this can be a hard read due to my personal beliefs, it is always great to read what other people's take on religion, love, hate and the human meaning.

Basically inventing the psychological autobiography Augustine tells the story of his deeply troubled and ruckus life. But then he encounters God’s care and everything changes for him. His confession is that he still sins and disappoints himself, but he is now striving to serve the God who saved him from himself—his self destructive behavior.

The second half or so is on the nature of memory and time and why these reflections matter.

It is clear that he is a master of words and his poetic style combined with his straight forward vulnerability explain why this is not just a great work of Christian literature, but is considered among the most important and influential books ever pinned.

**
I should add that for a book written over 1600 years ago, I love how my students felt like it was deeply relatable and relevant to them today.