I am dating
the Symposium in 364/3 B.C., after
the sailing season passed, in which Plato sent Dionysius the Second Letter.
When Plato
wrote his Second Letter declaration
concerning his dialogues as belonging ‘to Socrates become fair and young’, he apparently
thought that the time for his writing dialogues was over; summoned back to
Syracuse he would devote himself fully to the realization of his
politico-philosophical ideal, guiding Dionysius to the Good. The way he wanted
Dionysius to view his dialogues can best be seen in the light of the Meno passage to which he alluded in the Second Letter.
In Meno 100 a Socrates says: ‘To sum up our
enquiry – the result seems to be, if we are at all right in our view (ei de nun hêmeis en panti tô̢ logô̢
toutô̢ kalôs ezêtêsamen te kai elegomen), that virtue is neither
natural nor acquired (aretê an eiê oute
phusei oute didakton), but an instinct given by God to the virtuous (alla theiâ̢ moira̢ paragignomenê). Nor
is the instinct accompanied by reason (aneu
nou hois an paragignêtai), unless there may be supposed to be among
statesmen some one (ei mê tis eiê
toioutos tôn politikôn andrôn) who is capable of educating statesmen (hoios kai allon poiêsai politikon). And
if there be such a one (ei d’ eiê),
he may be said to be among the living (schedon
an ti houtos legoito toioutos en tois zôsin) what Homer says that Tiresias
was among the dead (hoion ephê Homêros
en tois tethneôsin ton Teiresian einai), “he alone has understanding (oios pepnutai); but the rest are
fleeting shades (toi de skiai aissousi)”;
and he and his virtue in like manner will be a reality among shadows (t’auton an kai enthade ho toioutos hôsper
para skias alêthes an pragma eiê pros aretên).’ (99e4-100a7, tr. B.
Jowett)
Displaying
Socrates’ desire to know the truth, the desire that always ended in the
admission of his philosophic ignorance, these dialogues depicted the historical
Socrates, yet transcended him by pointing to Plato as the man who alone has
understanding. The Second Letter
proclamation applies the least to the Republic,
in the second Book of which Plato’s brother Glaucon compels Socrates to
transcend his ignorance in search for the true nature of virtue. In the sixth
Book, although Socrates recoils from discussing the Idea of the Good, pleading
his ignorance (506c), Glaucon intercedes – ‘I must implore you not to turn away
just as you are reaching the goal’ (Mê
pros Dios hôsper epi telei ôn apostê̢s, 506d2-3) – and Socrates says:
‘Let us not at present ask what is the actual nature of the good (auto men ti pot’ esti t’agathon easômen to
nun einai), for to reach now what is in my thoughts would be an effort too
great for me (pleon gar moi phainetai ê
kata tên parousan hormên ephikesthai tou ge dokountos emoi ta nun,
506d8-e3)’. It is not Socrates, however fair and young, who says he has the Idea
of Good in his thought, it is Plato. And yet, the Second Letter itself with its reference to Dionysius’ mistrust of
him, his trying to find out what Plato’s business really is (Letter II, 312a), indicates that it was the
Republic with its emphasis on the
unity of true philosophy and true politics that prompted Plato to relativize
his adherence to the project of the Republic
by declaring that the dialogues which now bear his name ‘belong to a Socrates become
fair and young’.
Since the Second Letter did not achieve its
purpose – Dionysius did not summon Plato and Dion back to Athens after reading
it – Plato had to present to him the revised version of his intended Syracusan
mission in a manner open to the public eye and thus to the public scrutiny; he
wrote the Symposium.
***
As I have
pointed out in my previous posts on the Symposium,
Diotima’s discussion on Eros corresponds
to Plato’s Second Letter with its
attempt to turn Dionysius toward undertaking the arduous task of becoming a
philosopher. But what function perform the preceding speeches on Eros, those
given by Phaedrus, Pausanias, and Agathon, in this respect?
Phaedrus
says in his encomium: ‘I know not any greater blessing (ou gar egôg’ echô eipein hoti meizon estin agathon) to a young
man who is beginning life (euthus neô̢
onti) than a virtuous lover, or to the lover than a beloved youth (ê erastês chrêstos kai erastê̢ paidika).
For the principle which ought to be the guide of men (ho gar chrê anthrôpois hêgeisthai pantos tou biou) who would
nobly live (tois mellousi kalôs
biôsesthai) – that principle, I say, neither kindred, nor honour, nor
wealth, nor any other influence is able to implant so well as love (touto oute sungeneia hoia te empoiein houtô
kalôs oute timai oute ploutos out’ allo ouden hôs erôs). Of what I am
speaking (legô de dê ti touto;)? Of
the sense of honour and dishonour (tên
epi men tois aischrois aischunên, epi de tois kalois philotimian) without
which neither states nor individuals ever do any good or great work (ou gar estin aneu toutôn oute polin oute
idiôtên megala kai kala erga ergazesthai). And I say that a lover (phêmi toinun egô andra hostis era̢)
who is detected in doing any dishonourable act (ei ti aischron poiôn katadêlos gignoito), or submitting through
cowardice when any dishonour is done to him by another (ê paschôn hupo tou di’ anandrian mê amunomenos), will be more pained
at being detected by his beloved than at being seen by his father, or by his
companion, or by anyone else (out’ an
hupo patros ophthenta houtôs algêsai oute hupo hetairôn oute hup’ allou
oudenos hôs hupo paidikôn). The beloved too, when he is found in any
disgraceful situation, has the same feeling about his lover (t’auton de touto kai ton erômenon horômen,
hoti diapherontôs tous erastas aischunetai, hotan ophthê̢ en aischrô̢ tini
ôn). And if there were only some way of contriving (ei oun mêchanê tis genoito) that a state or an army should be
made up of lovers and their loves (hôste
polin genesthai ê stratopedon erastôn te kai paidikôn), they would be
the very best governors of their own city (ouk
estin hopôs an ameinon oikêseian tên heautôn), abstaining from all
dishonour (ê apechomenoi pantôn tôn
aischrôn), and emulating one another in honour (kai philotimoumenoi pros allêlous); and it is scarcely an
exaggeration to say that when fighting at each other’s side, although a mere
handful, they would overcome the world (kai
machomenoi d’an met’ allêlôn hoi toioutoi nikô̢en an oligoi ontes hôs epos
eipein pantas anthrôpous).’ (178c3-179a2, translations from the Symposium are Jowett’s)
Phaedrus
includes heterosexual love in his encomium on Eros: ‘Love will make men dare to
die for their beloved – love alone (Kai
mên huperapothnê̢skein ge monoi ethelousin hoi erôntes); and women as
well as men (ou monon hoti andres, alla
kai gunaikes). Of this, Alcestis, the daughter of Pellas (Toutou de kai hê Pêliou thugatêr
Alkêstis), is a monument to all Hellas (hikanên marturian parechetai huper toutou tou logou eis tous Hellênas);
for she was willing to lay down her life on behalf of her husband, when no one
else would (ethelêsasa monê huper tou
hautês Andros apothanein).’ (179b4-8)
This ‘indiscriminate’ praise of Eros provides the occasion
for Pausanias’ criticism. Pausanias points out that there are two gods of Love
(duo Erôte), as there are two
goddesses of Love, the older one, the daughter of Uranus (Ouranou thugatêr), the heavenly (Ourania) Aphrodite, and the younger one, the common (Pandêmos) Aphrodite, the daughter of
Zeus and Dione (Dios kai Diônês)
(180d5-e1): ‘The Love who is the offspring of the common Aphrodite (Ho men oun tês Pandêmou Aphroditês) is
essentially common (hôs alêthôs
pandêmos esti), and has no discrimination (kai ergazetai hoti an tuchê̢), being such as moves the meaner sort
of men (kai houtos estin hon hoi phauloi
tôn anthrôpôn erôsin). They are apt to love women as well as youths (erôsi de hoi toioutoi prôton men ouch
hêtton gunaikôn ê paidôn), and the body rather than soul – the most
foolish beings they can find are the objects of this love (epeita hôn an erôsi tôn sômatôn mallon ê tôn psuchôn, epeita
hôn an dunôntai anoêtotatôn) which desires only to gain an end (pros to diapraxasthai monon blepontes),
but never thinks of accomplishing the end nobly (amelountes de tou kalôs ê mê).’
***
At this point I must digress. Passing on to the description
of the Eros associated with the heavenly Aphrodite, Jowett translates: ‘But the
offspring of the heavenly Aphrodite is derived from a mother in whose birth the
female has no part, – she is from the male only; this is that love which is of
youths, and the goddess being older, there is nothing of wantonness in her.’
What is ‘a mother in whose birth the female has no part’? Plato says simply:
‘But the Eros of the Heavenly one (ho de
tês Ouranias), who, firstly (prôton
men), is not participating in the female (ou metechousês thêleos) but only in male (all’ arrenos monon) – and this is the love of youths (kai estin houtos ho tôn paidôn erôs)
– then, secondly (epeita), being
older (presbuteras), she has no wantonness
in her (hubreôs amoirou, 181c2-4).’
If we wish to know how the Heavenly Aphrodite became ‘the
motherless daughter of Uranus’ (hê
amêtôr Ouranou thugatêr, 180d7), we must go to Hesiod’s Theogony. Uranus kept the children,
which he had with Gaia, hidden (apokruptaske)
in the depth of the Earth (Gaiês en
keuthmôni) (157-8). So Gaia made a great sickle (teuxe mega drepanon, 161-2) and told her children, if they wanted
to obey her, they might repay their father’s outrage. They all were frightened
(pantas helen deos) and not one of
them dared to speak (oude tis autôn
phthenxato, 167-8)), only Kronos, the youngest (hoplotatos) and most formidable (deinotatos, 137) of them, promised his mother to do the deed
(170-173), for the father conceived unseemly deeds first (proteros gar aeikea mêsato erga, 173). The great Uranus (megas Ouranos) having brought the Night
(Nukt’ epagôn), spread himself all
around Gaia in his loving desire of her (amphi
de Gaiê̢ himeirôn philotêtos epescheto kai r’ etanusthê pantê̢). The
son, from the hiding place (ho d’ ek
lochoio païs), with his left hand reached up (ôrexato cheiri skaiê̢), with the right he grasped the enormous
sickle (dexiterê̢ de pelôrion ellaben
harpên), briskly cut off the testicles of his father (philou d’ apo mêdea patros essumenôs êmêse) and threw them to
fly behind him (palin d’ erripse
pheresthai opisô, 178-182). As he threw the testicles from the land upon
the stormy ocean (kabbal’ ap’ êpeiroio
poluklustô̢ epi pontô̢), they were carried by the ocean’s waters for a
long time (hôs pheret’ am’ pelagos
poulun chronon), from around the divine flesh and skin white foam arose (amphi de leukos aphros ap’ athanatou chroos ôrnuto); in it a girl was reared (tô̢ d’ eni kourê ethrephthê, 189-192):
Aphrodite was born (192-206).
***
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