Full of
admiration for Aeschylus ascending to Athens to save the city, the Chorus of the
Frogs sang: ‘Right it is and
befitting (Charien oun), not (mê), by Socrates sitting, idle talk to
pursue (Sôkratei parakathêmenon lalein)
… fine-drawn quibbles to seek, fine-set phrases to speak (to d’epi semnoisi logoisi kai skariphêsmoisi lêrôn diatribên argon
poieisthai), is but the part of a fool (paraphronountos
andros).’ (1482-99, tr. B. B. Rogers)
Rogers
comments: ‘This perpetual talking which surrounded Socrates is in truth the adoleschia of which the comic poets
speak (Clouds 1480; Eupolis Fragm.
Inc. 10), and to which Plato makes such a pathetic reference in the fourteenth
chapter of the Phaedo.’ Both Rogers’ references,
to Aristophanes’ Clouds and to Plato’s
Phaedo, are worth considering, for Plato’s
presentation of adoleschia in the Phaedrus deserves to be viewed in their light.
The scene in
the Clouds to which Rogers refers is
the closing scene of the play. To explain it, I must say a few words about its
background. Strepsiades, a simple farmer who married a female from aristocratic
circles, got into debts because of the aristocratic leanings of his son
Pheidippides. He wanted to send his son to Socrates’ Thinkery (Phrontistêrion, 94) to learn rhetoric,
so that Pheidippides might defend him against his creditors at the courts. But Pheidippides
knows all about Socrates and Chairephon and those around them, and flatly
refuses to go to them: ‘I know, those miserable wretches’ (aiboi ponêroi g’, oida, 102). Strepsiades himself therefore goes to
Socrates to be taught by him, but after several attempts to teach him, Socrates
throws him out for his stupidity (789-90). Strepsiades therefore sends there his son, in spite of his unwillingness and objections. When
Pheidippides accomplished his course of learning, Strepsiades brought him home and prepared for him a
welcoming feast (1211-12).
After this, Strepsiades
runs out of his house to complain to his neighbours about the beating he
received from his son. He narrates: ‘I asked him to narrate me something from
Aeschylus (ekeleus’ auton tôn Aischulou
lexai ti moi), and he said immediately: “I consider Aeschylus to be the
first among the poets (egô gar Aischulon
nomizô prôton en poiêtais – [spoken with a heavy Socratic irony] – full
of bombast (psophou pleôn), full of
contradictions (axustaton), a ranter (stomphaka) using big and rugged words (krêmnopoion, 1366-7)”.’ However much he
was vexed at his son’s verdict on Aeschylus, Strepsiades asked him: ‘“But tell
me something of those new things (su d’
alla toutôn lexon ti tôn neôterôn), those that are full of wisdom (hatt’ esti ta sopha tauta),” and he
immediately sang (ho d’ euthus ê̢s’)
some speech from Euripides (Euripidou
rêsin tin’) about a brother sleeping (hôs
ekinei adelphos), o god keeping off ill and mischief (ôlexikake), with his half-sister (tên homomêtrian adelphên, 1369-1372).’ This was too much for
Strepsiades; he began to chastise his son with harsh words, and his son gave him
a beating.
In the closing
scene, Strepsiades prays to Hermes to forgive him ‘that I was chasing away gods
because of Socrates (hot’ exeballon tous
theous dia Sôkratê, 1477) … I was deranged by idle talk’ (emou paranoêsantos adoleschia̢, 1480).’ He asks Hermes
for advice whether he should prosecute Socrates and his acolytes [charging them
with impiety]: ‘You advise me correctly (orthôs
paraineis) not allowing me to stitch up lawsuits (ouk eôn dikorraphein), but to set on fire the house of those idle babblers as quickly as possible (all’ hôs tachist’ empimpranai tên oikian
tôn adoleschôn, 1483-4).
***
Let us now
see Plato’s ‘pathetic reference’ to adoleschia in the Phaedo.
Pace Rogers, I find it apposite. Let us see it in context. Socrates’ friends assembled in prison to
spend with Socrates his last hours, and Socrates appeared a happy man to them (eudaimôn anêr ephaineto, 58e3). So
much so that Simmias reproached him for taking so lightly his leaving them and
the gods, who, as he himself admits, are good rulers (63a). Socrates defends
himself: ‘It is reasonable for me not to take it hard or be resentful at
leaving you and my masters here (eikotôs
humas te apoleipôn kai tous enthade despotas ou chalepôs pherô oud’
aganaktô), since I believe that there [in Hades, in after-life] also (hêgoumenos k’akei), no less than here (ouden hêtton ê enthade), I shall find
good masters (despotais te agathois
enteuxesthai) and companions (kai
hetairois, 69d8-e2).’ Since Socrates in his defence spoke much about the good
life of the soul liberated from the body with all its evils, Kebes says to him:
‘What you say about the soul is the subject of much disbelief (ta de peri psuchês pollên apistian
parechei tois anthrôpois): men fear that when it’s been separated from the
body (mê, epeidan apallagê̢ tou
sômatos), it may no longer exist anywhere (oudamou eti ê̢, 70a1-2) … True (epei), if it did exist somewhere, gathered together alone by itself
(eiper eiê pou autê kath’ hautên
sunêthroismenê), and separated from all the evils (kai apêllagmenê toutôn tôn kakôn) you were recounting just now
(hôn su nundê diêlthes), there’d
be plenty of hope (pollê an eiê elpis,
70a6-8) … but on just this point (alla
touto dê), perhaps (isôs), one
needs no little reassuring (ouk oligês
paramuthias deitai) and convincing (kai
pisteôs), that when the man has died, his soul exists (hôs esti te psuchê apothanontos tou
anthrôpou), and that it possesses some power (kai tina dunamin echei) and wisdom (kai phronêsin, 70b1-4).’ – Socrates: ‘That’s true (Alêthê legeis), but then what are we
to do (alla ti dê poiômen;)? Would
you like us to converse on these very questions (ê peri autôn toutôn boulei diamuthologômen), and see whether
this is likely to be the case or not (eite
eikos houtôs echein eite mê;)?’ – Cebes: ‘For my part anyway (Egô g’oun) I’d gladly hear (hêdeôs an akousaimi) whatever opinion
you have about them (hêntina doxan
echeis peri autôn).’ – Socrates: ‘Well, I really don’t think anyone
listening now, even if he were a comic poet, would say that I’m talking idly (Oukoun g’ an oimai eipein tina nun akousanta, oud’ ei kômô̢dopoios
eiê, hôs adoleschô), and arguing
about things that don’t concern me (kai
ou peri prosêkontôn tous logous poioumai). If you agree, then (ei oun dokei), we should look into the
matter (chrê diaskopeisthai).’
(70b5-c3, translation D. Gallop, with one alteration. He translates diamuthologômen (in line 70b6) ‘to
speculate’, I translate it ‘to converse’; I do so following his
note 15: ‘diamuthologein … need mean
no more than “converse”, as at Apology
39e5.’)
Bent on defending Socrates against Aristophanes’ derogation of him, Plato in the Phaedrus presents adoleschia very differently, giving it a prominent place in his
outline of the philosophic rhetoric.
Socrates: ‘I
am inclined to think (Kinduneuei), my
good friend (ô ariste), that it was
not surprising (eikotôs) that
Pericles became the most finished exponent of rhetoric (ho Periklês pantôn teleôtatos eis tên rêtortikên genesthai).’
– Phaedrus: ‘Why so (Ti dê;)?’ –
Socrates: ‘All the great arts (Pasai
hosai megalai tôn technôn) need supplementing (prosdeontai) by a study of Nature: your artist must cultivate garrulity and high-flown speculation (adoleschias kai meteôrologias phuseôs peri); from
that source alone can come the mental elevation and thoroughly finished
execution of which you are thinking (to
gar hupsêlonoun touto kai pantê̢ telesiourgon eoiken enteuthen pothen
eisienai); and that is what Pericles acquired to supplement his inborn
capacity (ho kai Periklês pros tô̢
euphuês einai ektêsato). He came across the right sort of man, I fancy,
in Anaxagoras (prospesôn gar oimai
toioutô̢ onti Anaxagora̢), and by enriching himself with high speculation (meteôrologias emplêstheis) and coming
to recognise the nature of wisdom
and folly (kai epi phusin nou te kai anoias aphikomenos) – on
which topics of course Anaxagoras was always discoursing (hôn dê peri ton polun logon epoieito Anaxagoras) – he drew from
that source and applied to the art of rhetoric (enteuthen heilkusen epi tên tôn logôn technên) what was
suitable thereto (to prosphoron autê̢).’
(269e1-270a8, translation by R. Hackforth)
The Phaedo is a late dialogue (see my post
on ‘The dating of Plato’s Phaedo of
April 3, 2017), and the remark Socrates makes in it concerning adoleschia can be viewed as a correction
of the depiction of it in the Phaedrus.
It is hardly an accidental correction, for in the Phaedrus the notion of adoleschia
is linked to the picture of Anaxagoras, of whom Socrates speaks very
differently in the Phaedo. Speaking
of his philosophical beginnings, Socrates says in the latter: ‘One day I heard
someone reading from a book he said was by Anaxagoras (akousas men pote ek bibliou tinos, hôs ephê, Anaxagorou
anagignôskontos), according to which it is, in fact, Intelligence that orders and is the reason for everything (kai legontos hôs ara nous estin ho diakosmôn te kai pantôn aitios, 97b8-c2) … I
made all haste to get hold of the books and read them as quickly as I could (panu spoudê̢ labôn tas biblous hôs
tachista hoios t’ ê anegignôskon, 98b4-5) … as I went on with my reading
(proïôn kai anagignôskôn), I
beheld a man (horô andra) making no
use of his Intelligence at all (tô̢ men nô̢ ouden chrômenon), nor finding in it any reasons (oude tinas aitias epaitiômenon) for
the ordering of things (eis to diakosmein
ta pragmata), but imputing them to such things as air and aether and water
and many other absurdities (aeras de kai
aitheras kai hudata aitiômenon kai alla polla kai atopa, 98b8-c2).
In fact, when I see that Plato’s Anaxagoras in the Phaedrus ‘arrived at the nature of mind and the absence of mind (epi phusin nou te kai anoias
aphikomenos) … which
were the very subjects about which Anaxagoras used to talk so much (hôn dê peri ton polun logon epoieito
Anaxagoras, C. J. Rowe’s translation)’, and compare it with what Socrates says in the Phaedo – ‘as I went on with my reading (proïôn kai anagignôskôn), I beheld a
man (horô andra) making no use of mind at all (tô̢ men nô̢ ouden
chrômenon)’ – I suspect that when Plato wrote the Phaedrus he hadn’t yet read Anaxagoras’ books.
Let me end this post by noting that the exalted picture of
Pericles, which Plato presents in the Phaedrus,
chimes with Aristophanes’ oblique reference to him in the Frogs. For it is the advice that echoes the counsel of Pericles thanks
to which Aeschylus returns to Athens as its saviour: ‘When they shall count the
enemy’s soil their own (tên gên hotan
nomisôsi tên tôn polemiôn einai spheteran), and theirs the enemy’s (tên de spheteran tôn polemiôn): when
they know that ships are their true wealth (poron
de tas naus), their so called wealth delusion (aporian de ton poron).’ (1463-5, translation by Rogers). Rogers
notes: ‘It is, as the Scholiast observes, the counsel which was given by
Pericles at the commencement of the war (Thucydides i. 140-144). “What if the
enemy ravages Attica? So long as Athens is mistress of the sea, the whole world
will be open to her fleet.”’ – In the wake of the great naval victory of
Arginousae the thoughts of those who hoped that Athenian democracy could renew
itself and be saved turned to Pericles as a man worth emulating; in this spirit
Aristophanes alludes to him in the Frogs
and Plato speaks of him in the Phaedrus.
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