Stoic Noir

A day in the life of Detective Eric Titus, Private Eye

Photo by 𝓴𝓘𝓡𝓚 𝕝𝔸𝕀 on Unsplash

**I recommend reading while listening to this music.**

A dimly lit office at night. Furniture is simple and sparse. Outside the open window, rain pours, car horns honk, sirens blare. It’s a rough part of a rough city.

At the desk, an older man sits smoking under the halo of a bright lamp. He’s reading something, although we can’t see exactly what. He squints, stops reading, and then rubs his forehead, as if weary.

A knock at the door.

Detective (to himself, glancing at watch): At this time of night? Who would come out here this late? (Shrugs, gets up slowly and walks over to door.)

Through the door, we see a silhouette: The profile of a slender woman wearing a wide-brimmed hat.

Detective (opens door): Yes?

Woman: Mr. Titus? May I come in?

Detective: Suit yourself. (Gestures toward empty chair sitting across from desk.)

Woman: Thank you, Mr. Titus. (Sweeps in the doorway, giving the detective a coy smile. She is wearing a stylish dress and bright red lipstick.) I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. (Sits down elegantly in empty chair.)

(Detective wearily closes door and goes back around desk, sitting down and looking expectantly at the woman.)

Woman: I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here this late. (Takes cigarette case out of handbag and daintily removes a cigarette.) I—oh, do you have a light?

(Detective grudgingly removes lighter from pocket and holds it for the woman.)

Woman: Thank you. My name is Helen Kidd. I won’t beat around the bush. I’m here about my missing lamp. (Takes a drag from cigarette, and blows smoke out the side of her mouth, staring intently at the detective.)

Detective (lighting a new cigarette for himself, trying to be polite): What lamp would that be, Miss Kidd?

Woman: My prize possession. My gorgeous Tiffany lamp. (Pauses dramatically.) It’s been stolen.

Detective: Stolen, Miss Kidd? From your house?

Woman: Yes. That is, no, not exactly. From my garden. That lamp has illuminated many beautiful evenings on my back terrace, evenings which I will not be able to repeat without it. It casts the most beautiful glow. You wouldn’t believe how beautiful. (Slowly blows smoke, staring at detective.) Last night I heard a noise on my terrace and I rushed down, only to find the lamp had been stolen.

Detective: That’s why you’re here? You want me to find a lamp. (Shakes head.) I beg your pardon, Miss Kidd, but I really don’t see how this is important enough for you to come all this way to see me. I’m sorry you’ve taken the trouble. I can’t help you with this case. (Stands up to indicate the meeting is over.)

Woman (annoyed but still smiling): And I beg your pardon, Mr. Titus, but I simply can’t take no for an answer. That lamp is the only item of value I own. It’s very important to me. (Leans back in her seat, blowing smoke defiantly.)

Detective: So what of it? Just replace it tomorrow with a less valuable lamp. That way if your lamp gets stolen again, you won’t be upset. You can only lose what you have. If you don’t own a Tiffany lamp, you’ll never lose one again.

Woman: I’m afraid I don’t follow you, detective.

Detective (sighs): You can’t have a pain in your horns, can you, because you don’t have any horns. You can’t lose your ermine shawl because you don’t have one. Why are you annoyed then? Our losses and pains only affect things that are in our possession.

Woman: Well yes, but—

Detective: Why are you upset? Because you attach value to the thing this thief has stolen. Well, stop attaching such value to your things, and you won’t be angry when they are stolen. If you give these things up and count them as nothing, how could you still be angry? As long as you attach value to these things, you should be angry with yourself, not the thief.

Woman (confused): I’ve never heard that before.

Detective: Think of it this way. You have a fine lamp and your neighbor doesn’t. Your neighbor doesn’t know where human good truly lies, supposing it lies in possessions like fine clothes or a Tiffany lamp. This is exactly what you think too. Won’t your neighbor come along and try to take your lamp? If you display a cake to gluttons and then keep it all for yourself, aren’t you just tempting them to steal it from you? Just don’t provoke them in the first place.

Woman (sarcastically): Tell me this, then, detective. If human good doesn’t lie in possessions, then where does it lie? A great detective like yourself must surely be able to find out.

Detective: I do try my best, Miss Kidd. (Begins to pace.) What does it mean to live a good life? It consists in learning to apply our natural preconceptions to particular cases in accord with nature. And in drawing the distinction that some things lie within our power while others do not. Within our power lie moral choice and all actions that depend on that choice, whereas our body and every part of it are not within our power, and likewise our possessions, parents, brothers and sisters, children, country, and everyone with whom we associate. (Turns to look at her.) Where, then, are we to place our good? To what kind of reality are we to apply that name? To what lies within our power.

Woman (archly): I would say, Mr. Titus, that what lies within your power and within my power are two completely different things.

Detective: You may be more right than you realize, Miss Kidd, but not quite in the way you think.

Woman: I don’t understand.

Detective: Some things are within our power, while others are not. Within our power are opinion, motivation, desire, aversion, and, in a word, whatever is of our own doing. Not within our power are our body, our property, reputation, career, and, in a word, whatever is not of our own doing. The things that are within our power are by nature free, and immune to hindrance and obstruction, while those that are not, within our power are weak, slavish, subject to hindrance, and not our own.

Woman: What do you mean, weak, slavish and not our own? I really have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Titus.

Detective (speaking quickly): Remember that if you regard that which is by nature slavish as being free, and that which is not your own as being your own, you'll have cause to lament, you'll have a troubled mind, and you'll find fault with both gods and human beings. But if you regard only that which is your own as being your own, and that which isn't your own as not being your own, as is indeed the case, no one will ever be able to coerce you, no one will hinder you, you'll find fault with no one, you'll accuse no one, you'll do nothing whatever against your will, you'll have no enemy, and no one will ever harm you because no harm can affect you…

Woman (standing up): I can see I’m wasting my time here, detective.

Detective (ignoring her and continuing to pace): Practice, then, from the very beginning to say to every disagreeable impression, “You're an impression and not at all what you appear to be.” Then examine it and test it by these rules that you possess, and first and foremost by this one, whether the impression relates to those things that are within our power, or those that aren't within our power; and if it relates to anything that isn't within our power, be ready to reply, “That's nothing to me.”

Miss Kidd rolls her eyes and walks over to the office door, opens it, and slams it behind her. Detective continues talking until she’s out of earshot.

Detective: No one else has any power over the things that really matter to us, so what is left for us to worry about?

Sits down and leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on his desk.

Detective: Ahh. (Yawns, smiles to himself.) Works every time.

Scene fades to black while jazz music plays.

Postscript: Who says Stoicism can’t be fun? But seriously, dialogue in the second half is based on Epictetus’ Discourses (transl. Robin Hard), 1.18, 11-16; 1.22, 9-11; 1.25, 2; and Handbook 1.