Augustine's Confessions beckons us to venture into the depths of his life, witnessing the transformative path that led to his conversion. Within the initial nine books, he intertwines the tale of his existence with a philosophical exploration. Amidst his contemplations on time, Augustine unravels its paradoxical nature—a realm where the past dissolves, becoming nonexistent, and the future lingers, elusively waiting to be grasped. Time, like Aristotle's notion of motion, gravitates toward a state of non-being. Yet, in contrast, God transcends this temporality, dwelling in eternal realms where the past and future blend into an ever-present "now."
The dichotomy between the temporal and the eternal finds its most striking manifestation in the present moment, which, were it not for its inevitable transition into the past, would transcend the confines of time, attaining a state of timeless eternity. God, the timeless source of all existence, embodies the very essence of perpetual being. In the midst of this paradoxical division of time—past, present, and future—language itself assumes an enigmatic character. Augustine delves into the measurement of time, unraveling its elusive essence. Slippery and evasive, time eludes our grasp as the past retreats into the depths of memory, and the future hovers unfulfilled. We are left to grapple solely with the present, which, in its fleeting nature, defies notions of durability. Centuries dissolve into millennia, months into mere moments. Memory safeguards the past, while anticipation breathes life into the unrealized possibilities of the future.
Augustine draws a connection between time and motion, recognizing the pitfalls of measuring time with time itself—a path that would only entangle us in an endless loop of circularity. Aurelius, in his philosophical ruminations, contemplates the paradoxical expansion of the nonexistent future and the gradual fading of the vanished past. It is through the spirit that we measure time, preserving the past, attentively observing the fleeting present, and anticipating the mysteries yet to unfold. In his departure from the notion of time solely derived from celestial motion, Augustine acknowledges the divine creation of time, woven into the very fabric of all existence, birthed alongside creation itself.

What can I say about The Confessions that has not already been said? Not much. So I will just mention my slightly unusual reason for reading it.

I recently read the only Latin novel to survive in it's entirety from antiquty, The Golden Ass, translated by P. G. Walsh. In the introduction, Walsh made this statement, "On two occasions Augustine associates him (Apuleius) specifically with the town; it must have been during his brief studies there that he first gained acquaintance with Apuleius' philosophical works and with The Golden Ass, which was to play so large a part in shaping The Confessions." Really? The reference for this statement was a book by Nancy J. Shumate, Phoenix, which I could not find anywhere. So I was curious how the risque Latin novel influenced the saintly Augustine.

The most obvious point of similarity is the conversion experiences of Apuleius and Augustine, Apuleius to the Isis cult and Augustine to the God of Christianity. If Augustine really was influenced by The Golden Ass, then what he did in The Confessions was set his conversion experience up as a point of comparison, of course believing that of the two, his was true. Apuleius's conversion did, indeed, leave much to be desired, since he was much the same as he was at the beginning of his journey. Curiosity was his point of weakness and after his conversion it continued to be. Augustine was transformed from the inside out in his experience with his God.

The best example of this was the issue of celibacy. Lucius's celibacy was a requirement, Augustine's was an offering. Augustine overcame his desire for sex by means of a spiritual ephinany. Lucius's own vice, curiosity, was the means of overcoming his desires. So one wonders, did Lucius truly experience a metamorphosis?

Other, seemingly blatant, references to The Golden Ass:

"Free curiosity has greater power to stimulate learning than rigorous coercion. Nevertheless, the free ranging flux of curiosity is channeled by discipline under Your Law.”

"My studies which were deemed respectable had the objective of leading me to distinction as an advocate in lawcourts, where one's reputation is high in proportion to one's success in deceiving people."

"They do not slay in sacrifice to you what they have made themselves to be. They do not kill their own pride like high- flying birds, their curiosity like 'fishes of the sea', and their sexual indulgence like the 'beasts of the field', so that you, God, who are a devouring fire, may consume their mortal concerns and recreate them for immortality."

".. and you put before me the attractions of Rome to draw me there, using people who love a life of death, committing insane actions in this world, promising vain rewards in the next."

The last third of the book was a fascinating journey through Augustine's thoughts. His chapter on memory was very reminiscent of Plato's treatment of recollection. It was a bit different in that he believed ideas existed before, but not in his memory.

I still don't know what I think about his allegorical exegesis of Genesis.

And now for my confessions:

I slept through the first chapter when Augsutine "recalls" his infancy.

I slept through the numerous panegyrics on Monica. She is a wonderful picture of every longsuffering, prayerful mother that has ever existed. However, even after mentioning her brief bout with alcoholism, I felt very removed from her. I think his portrayal of her was still too saintly to make her relatable.

Overall, the most inspiring aspect of this book is Augustine's humility and love for his God. This will probably be a book that I read and reread through the years.

Sidenote: Chadwick's footnotes were helpful, but I noticed that every time Augustine used language even remotely similar to Plotinus or some other middle Platonist he would point this out. It gave me the impression (perhaps incorrectly) that Chadwick did not think Augustine had an original idea in his head. Not having read Plotinus, this is just an observation/question, not an argument.

"You stir man to take pleasure in praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."

Three years after my first review, I am thrilled to report that I was able to read this book more slowly and carefully with a small group of friends this year and fall in love with so much more of it than I did the first time. The conversion story is still amazing, but even the more philosophical tangents and latter books make more sense than they did before. What a remarkable thinker, writer, and Christian Augustine was. The more I read, the more it became clear how influential he has been on teaching that has shaped my life, both in theology and aesthetics. It has been a true joy to spend time with him almost every day this year. He very much has become a friend—so much so that he’s going to be in my reading life for at least the next couple years. :D

Original review, 6/15/2020
I can envision scenarios in which this book garners a higher rating from me, but only with a more dedicated, meticulous reading. Unfortunately, I can't give Confessions such a reading right now and maybe not ever, so 3 stars it is. It would take a lot of rereading for me to adjust to Augustine's circular writing style and think through several of the philosophical ideas he raises. So in that regard, I must certainly affirm, "It's not you, it's me."

Nevertheless, the biographical portion was worth the struggle. Augustine's life is a striking demonstration of the heart's yearning for joy in God. He tried to live off broken cisterns for years, never satisfied and always seeking. Over time, God drew Augustine in until at last he could drink from the fountain of living waters. I've known of Augustine's journey to faith for years, so it was good to finally read his story in his own words.

I have probably been formed by Augustinian thinking so much throughout my life that when I finally read Augustine, I thought, "I've heard all that before." So a rating of 4 stars isn't fair to Augustine, I know. The chiastic structure of books 1-9 is pretty cool, as are the parallels between Confessions and Virgil's Aeneid.

The BU reading group read this in the Spring 2014 semester, but I couldn't attend because of class.

Random notes:
Books 1-9 have a chiastic structure (see Finding a Common Thread).
Book 10 has its own chiastic structure?
Paul Ricoeur's book on time (Time and Narrative) connects Book 11 with Aristotle's Poetics (narration as a way to avoid subjectivity). Cf. Stephen Hawking's Brief History of Time.
Augustine intended for people to read his confessions: 1-9 is for anyone, 10 is for baptized believers, 11-13 is for parishioners and other bishops.
Platonism can't give you the Trinity, creation ex nihilo, or the incarnation.
Augustine's allegorical/moral interpretation of Gen. 1 in Book 13 strikes modern readers as arbitrary, but it seemed obvious to Augustine.
Re: Augustine's argument for the plurality of interpretations (cf. On Christian Teaching): the modern notion of only one true answer comes from the advent of science and math (Descartes)—the plurality of interpretations doesn't underwrite the project that gets us penicillin. Cf. WCF 1.9.
Smith makes some good comments here and here. His book On the Road with Augustine came out in 2019.

“I have become a question to myself” - declares Saint Augustine here. There is a lot of soul-searching, love, and passion in this book – as Augustine changes from an orator, a Manichaeist, and an inveterate lover of women - into one of the founding fathers of Christianity. Decisive to him are his Christian, devoted, loving, and praying mother, the encounter with Neoplatonism, and his passion for God. But then there is his integrity, honesty, sharp mind, and the relentless quest to pose and answer basic philosophical questions about the nature of man, time, matter and forms, language, truth, memory, interpretation, numbers, and so on.

Unmissable! I've been reading this slowly for 6 months, trying to get every possible drop of juice out of it, and boy is it worth it.
I soared in the passages that waxed poetical about God's immutable aseity and then plumbed the depths of Augustine's beautiful vulnerability and psychological brilliance as he grieved the loss of an irreplaceable friend. But most important, it seems to me, is Augustine's very method of interpreting your life according to a profoundly theological hermeneutic: where you settle for nothing less discerning what the Living God, my sweetness and truth and my very Self, has been doing in scene after scene.
I won't refrain from admitting that there were parts I struggled with, especially the last 4 books. But mostly it was for my lack of knowledge. And the more you put into working out what exactly Augustine's doing there, the richer the rewards you reap. Take up and read!

4/2024: This very well may be my favorite book. Certainly it has impacted me more than any other besides the Bible. This time I finally got around to reading the whole thing, including the philosophical sections in the last quarter. Augustine has officially become my dearest "heart" writer, the one who most fundamentally informs the way I view myself and the world. Though I stuck with my beloved Chadwick this time around, I did some comparison with the newest translation by Thomas Williams (Hackett, 2019), which is in many ways more direct while investing some familiar phrases with a unique punch and sparkle, but it's just a bit too informal for my liking. I still like how Chadwick keeps the highly polished, rhetorical style without trying to make it too "raw", as Williams arguably does. Reading the Latin, it's clear that Augustine was really a prose-poet who aims to impress and delight with his language, and that quality needs to be wholly preserved in any worthwhile translation. Next time I read it, I'll probably try to do it all in the original language.

Original review: If you're looking for a conventional "autobiography" (that term is quite misleading when applied to this work) or theological treatise, Augustine’s style can be frustrating due to its willingness to jump around into random ruminations and seemingly irrelevant minutiae of his life. But if you have the patience and a taste for poetic wonder, you will uncover poignancy and relevance beyond all expectations. The Henry Chadwick translation is remarkable for its transformation of an achingly poetic and distinctly literary Latin (I think all Latin students have to translate the first section or two at some point in their studies; it's usually their first look at artistic Latin prose that abandons the tidy grammar of the formal exercises) into a gorgeous English with plenty of passages that perfectly distill Augustine’s rhetorical brilliance while remaining faithful to the text. This is much better than, say, the strange and borderline unreadable Garry Wills translation, which ironically approaches paraphrase while simultaneously using obscure and pretentious Latin derivatives in an attempt to sound "faithful".

signore e signori a distanza di 14 anni recensisco la mia numero uno, con questa opera scritta agli albori del cristianesimo in una città dell'algeria, Ippona, prima e più importante autobiografia che sia mai stata scritta da un essere umano, è ciò che ha dato il via ad un meraviglioso viaggio che ho intrapreso e che continuo. La lettura delle vite della più grande mente del primo millennio e forse anche del secondo e del terzo, ovvero Sant'Agostino vescovo di Ippona è stato il mio battesimo da lettore. la prima vita del piccolo Augusto molto libertina e lasciva con i primi passi nel tribunale di Cartagine ha lasciato il posto anni dopo, a Milano, allora capitale dell'impero, e con l'auito del vescovo di Milano Ambrogio ad una vita consacrata a Dio quale primo e vero portatore di Verità. quella vera, non quella finta che l'avvocato Agostino declamava nei tribunali per far vincere i propri clienti. A Milano successe un unicum nella storia dell'umanità e del cattolicesimo, fino ad allora non era mai successo e mai succederà che due dei 4 Padri della Chiesa d'Occidente si incontrassero e che uno battezzò l'altro. l'opera è una lunghissima preghiera a Dio ma anche una confessione in cui il Vescovo appunto confessa e chiede perdono a Dio della sua precedente vita e del fatto che abbia abbracciato vari e finti dei prima di approdare nelle braccia dell'unico e vero Dio.

vi prego mi rivolgo a chi ancora non ha letto quest'opera per i motivi che solo lui/lei sa magari perché la vede come un'opera noiosa e/o difficile (cosa che non è) o perchè è ateo/a. provate a leggere, iniziate la lettura, troverete parole che non si usano più espressioni che non si usano più. ma credetemi quest'opera è più attuale della Bibbia. Tolto il Nuovo Testamento, le confessioni di Sant'Agostino è il testo più importante del Cristianesimo

The first nine Books are brilliant, revolutionary, both as a confession and as theology. I wish Augustine had ended it there, and I wish someone could explain why he doesn’t end it there. But given I’m a slacker, I guess I don’t deserve an explanation. I’m sure it’s what I said before: “It probably all relates to the nature of humanity, the nature of God, the nature of His creation, and the nature of sin, all in the context of Augustine's early life and conversion. I just don't understand it...lol.” The last four books are way too philosophical for me, but I am assured that it ranks with the great philosophers.

I do like Kerstin’s final questions. Let me take a crack at them.

What did you think of the book overall?
Brilliant, difficult, insightful, revolutionary, honest, unlike anything in its day. Finally I think holy. His voice of continuous prayer just exudes holiness.

What surprised you?
How the entire book was one long, continuous prayer to God. An actual confession.

What touched you?
His relationship with his mother. We all know how much she loved him through her constant prayer for his conversion, but he apparently had the same love for her, and in his times I’m not sure how common that was. That moment after his conversion and just before she dies where they sit in the garden and contemplate heaven is very striking. And of course his prayer for her soul at the end of chapter nine was most touching.

What made you laugh?
I don’t know if this is funny (probably not) but a heck of a lot of his friends kept dying from fever. If I ever read Confessions again I’m going to have to count how many.

What inspired you?
The continuous prayer. His prayerful voice just entered my ear and has stayed there. It’s a wonderful way to speak to God, an almost constant confession, with praise and blessings thrown in.

What. A. Read. An astonishingly vulnerable and powerful account of a saint’s search for God that I will unquestionably return to in the future.

I’ve been journeying through Confessions with Fr Gregory Pine and Fr Jacob-Bertrand Janczyk and their “Catholic Classics” podcast. Highly, highly recommended. They made a terrific observation in their commentary of the last episode at the conclusion of the book: that what appeared initially to be an affliction ultimately turned out to be a mercy. They were referring, of course, to arguably the most well-known quote from the book: “For You have made us for Yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You.” Augustine’s restlessness is what motivated his spiritual quest for truth, and despite the agony and turmoil of this quest, it is what ultimately lead Him to Christ. And because He ends with commentary on the creation account, he brings the book full circle—starting with chaos and restlessness and ending in the Sabbath rest waiting for all of us in God Himself.

Along the way, he opens up to us his struggles and shares with us his questions, several times in total despair and hopelessness that he will see his way through. And yet, because we journey through the struggles and questions alongside him, the answers he finds become logical and relatable answers for us, too! Through the sharing of his own journey, he proves an incredible guide to us in ours.

Maybe it’s the nature of reading someone else’s testimony of faith, but in such a similar way to when I read C. S. Lewis’s faith story, I found Augustine articulating struggles and questions I didn’t even know I had, about eternity, time, the nature of God, the true and real redemption of our past errors, sins, and failures, and the infinite and unchanging goodness of God and His unfathomable love for us, His children. What an encouragement through this Lenten season!

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.

En los últimos tiempos cuestiono la necesidad y/o utilidad de puntuar o evaluar las lecturas. ¿Qué puntúo al fin y al cabo? ¿La experiencia de la lectura del libro? ¿Su calidad literaria? ¿El cumplimiento o no, la satisfacción o no, de una serie de expectativas sobre él? ¿Cuándo antes, en la historia humana, se han puntuado libros? ¿No será que extendemos sin control esa moderna manía de evaluar todo? En cualquier caso, hay libros, como este, ante los que una parte de mí siente especial rubor o incomodidad si sucumbo a la tentación de otorgarle estrellas. Es decir, que no le veo ningún sentido.

Resulta fascinante adentrarse en la psicología y la experiencia existencial de un hombre del siglo IV de nuestra era, compartir junto a él sus tribulaciones espirituales. Estamos ante el testimonio de alguien que se abre a Dios y vuelca su experiencia interior una vez desmenuzada y analizada. A la luz divina, Agustín expone el espíritu, se descubre, toma conciencia de sí. Nos cuenta su progresivo acercamiento a Dios, dejando atrás la vida inconsciente y mundana, movido en todo momento por el deseo de acceder a la verdad.