In the Parmenides Plato endows some of the most
telling arguments against the Forms with the authority of Parmenides. Without
offering any counterarguments Parmenides avers that only to ‘a man of considerable
natural gifts’ (andros panu men euphuous,
135a7), ‘willing to follow a man who is showing him the Forms in course of a
prolonged study, starting from afar’ (etheloi
de panu polla kai porrȏthen pragmateuomenou tou endeiknumenou hepesthai,
133b9-c1), it can be shown that the arguments against the Forms are false (echoi tis endeixasthai hoti pseudetai,
133b6-7). These words on their own point to the Republic, but Plato makes it double sure that the reader gets the
point; the Parmenides opens with the
words: ‘When we arrived at Athens, we met Adeimantus and Glaucon in the Agora’;
these two bothers of Plato are Socrates’ main interlocutors in the Republic.
I have
argued that Plato wrote the Parmenides
after returning from Sicily in 366 B.C., following his unsuccessful, yet
open-ended attempt to transform the Syracusan tyrant Dionysius the Younger into
a philosopher-ruler; Plato agreed to return to Syracuse in order to resume his
instruction of Dionysius, prepared to devote the rest of his life to the task
of educating him. The Parmenides, hand
in hand with the Republic, was to
protect his disciples from the attacks against the Forms, such as Parmenides
proffers in the dialogue, after his departure.
Presumably, Plato’s
departure from Sicily was to be short; Dionysius wanted to end the war in which
he had been engaged and call Plato back as soon as he made his own power more
secure (Seventh Letter 338a). But as
the time passed by and Plato’s stay in Athens proved to be longer than expected,
Plato had time to do more. The road to the Forms outlined in the Republic begins too far from the beginning
of the dialogue, in the fifth book. And so Plato wrote the Symposium – in which he outlines a life-long ascent to the Form of
Beauty in a compressed way in Socrates’ speech on love – linking it to the Parmenides by the figure of Glaucon.
The Symposium is not designed to replace the
arduous study leading to the Forms in the Republic,
but to supplement it. In the preamble to the Symposium we learn that Apollodorus had narrated to Glaucon the
speeches on love that he is going to narrate in the dialogue, and that he told
him on that occasion: ‘There was a time when I was running about the world,
fancying myself to be well employed, but I was really a most wretched being, no
better than you are now. I thought that I ought to do anything rather than be a
philosopher.’ (173a1-3, tr. Jowett) This remark points to Glaucon’s response to
Socrates’ pronouncement in Republic V
that ‘until philosophers are kings in their cities, or the kings and princes of
this world have the spirit and power of philosophy, cities will never have rest
from their evils’ (473c11-d6, tr. Jowett): ‘Socrates, what do you mean? I would
have you consider that the word which you have uttered is one at which numerous
persons, and very respectable persons too, in a figure pulling off their coats
all in a moment and seizing any weapon that comes to hand, will run at you
might and main before you know where you are, intending to do heaven knows
what; and if you don’t prepare an answer and make good your escape, you will be
“pared by their fine wits, and no mistake.’ – Socrates: ‘You got me into the
scrape.’ – Glaucon: ‘And I was quite right; however, I will do what I can to
protect you; but I can only give you goodwill and encouragement (parakeleuesthai, Jowett’s ‘good advice’
is out of place), and, perhaps, I may be able to fit answers to your questions
better than another – that is all. And now, having such an auxiliary, you must
do your best to show the unbelievers that you are right.’ (173e6-174b2, tr.
Jowett)
Socrates
begins by defining philosophers as ‘lovers of the vision of truth’ (tous tȇs alȇtheias philotheamonas). –
Glaucon: ‘I should like to know what you mean (alla pȏs auto legeis)?’ – Socrates: ‘To another I might have a
difficulty in explaining (Oudamȏs raidiȏs
pros ge allon); but I am sure that you will admit a proposition which I am
about to make (se de oimai homologȇsein
moi to toionde).’ – Glaucon: ‘What is the proposition’ (To poion)?’ – Socrates: ‘That since
beauty is the opposition of ugliness (Epeidȇ
estin enantion kalon aischrȏi), they are two (duo autȏi einai)?’ – Glaucon: ‘Certainly’ (Pȏs d’ou). – Socrates: ‘And inasmuch they are two, each of them is
one’ (Oukoun epeidȇ duo, kai hen
hekateron). – Glaucon: ‘True again’ (Kai
touto). – Socrates: ‘And of just (Kai
peri dȇ dikaiou) and unjust (kai
adikou), good (kai agathou) and
evil (kai kakou), and of every other
form (kai pantȏn tȏn eidȏn peri), the
same remark holds (ho autos logos):
taken singly, each of them is one (auto
men hen hekaston einai); but from the various combinations of them with
actions and bodies and with one another (tȇi
de tȏn praxeȏn kai sȏmatȏn kai allȇlȏn koinȏniai), they are seen in all
sorts of lights and appear many (pantachou
phantazomena polla phainesthai hekaston)?’ – Glaucon: ‘Very true’ (Orthȏs legeis). (475e4-476a8, tr.
Jowett)
And so
Socrates takes Glaucon, Adeimantus, and the rest of the audience on the road
that culminates in the sixth book of the Republic
with a glimpse of the Form of the Good (505a-b).
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