The idea of the self or how a person constructs subjectivity was one of the major interests of the French philosopher Michel Foucault (1926-1984). In The Hermeneutics of the Subject: Lectures at the College de France, 1981-1982, Foucault returns to the idea of the self and how it has been constructed in Western thought.

Foucault's approach to history and philosophy is to take an idea and trace it's genealogy through time. What was the original idea? What did it mean in the ancient world and how was it practiced? Is it still in use today, and if so, are there remnants of its original source or have history, modernity, and postmodernity divorced it from its source?

In this book, Foucault examines the idea of the care of the self: How were the ideas of knowing oneself and taking care of oneself understood and practiced in the Greco-Roman world? It is with ideas like this that Foucault's historical method shows its strength. While the concept of the self is still alive and well, how people currently relate to the self, describe the self, and work to improve the self diverges from the practices of Greece and Rome.

Today, if someone tells you to "take care of yourself," the reference behind the phrase is usually to a set of practices that involves getting enough rest, exercising more, eating better, and deciding whether or not to start yoga, therapy, or meditating.

The ideas of knowing oneself and taking care of oneself had a different resonance in the ancient world. Foucault argues that the famous dictum of the oracle at Delphi, know thyself, was not intended to be therapeutic but was a "sort of thorn which must be stuck in men's flesh, driven into their existence, and which is a principle of restlessness and movement, of continuous concern throughout life."

Using the example of Socrates and the writings of philosophers, such as Plato, the Stoics and the Epicureans, Foucault illustrates how knowing oneself, for the ancients, was a never-ending project. A key to this process was the idea of parrhesia or truth-telling, a series of techniques—with moral and philosophical underpinnings--designed to improve the whole person.

For example, one could have a relationship with a master or a teacher or join a school, such as that run by the philosopher Epictetus, and receive instruction on how to care for oneself in an environment designed to challenge rather than soothe. Meditation could be used, not to cleanse the mind, but to help a person anticipate and plan reactions to events. Exercise could contain a host of moral lessons, such as working up an appetite through physical exertion, but then only eating a meal that would be available to the poor to better understand the hunger suffered by the poor.

The great strength of much of Foucault's work can be found in his analysis of the care of the self. By focusing on the ancient world, he shows how the idea of caring for the self has survived throughout the centuries, and by contrast with the intense detail he provides with examples from ancient Greece and Rome, how much has changed in our approach to the self. One of the great distinctions between knowing oneself in the ancient world and knowing oneself in contemporary society is how that knowledge will be applied.

For the ancients, the idea of self-care did not stop once individual goals had been achieved. The purpose of these truth-telling techniques was to make oneself into a person who could take that moral and ethical knowledge into the community and participate in the social and political arena. Learning how to care for one's self enables a person to care for others and to care for society.

This book was not written by Foucault, but is an edited transcription of a series of lectures. As a result, in places it suffers from some of the structural problems of lectures-topics are not always developed, themes are dropped, and there is some repetition of information. But, it is also like any other work of Foucault-at times a delight to read, at times aggravating, but always thought-provoking.