Plato, Socrates, and the Thirty

Plato says in the Seventh Letter: ‘The existing constitution being generally condemned, a revolution (metabolh/) took place, and fifty one men came to the front as rulers of the revolutionary government (prou/sthsan a1rxontej) namely eleven in the city and ten in the Piraeus … while thirty were appointed rulers with full powers over public affairs as a whole (a1rxontej kate/sthsan au0tokra/torej). Some of these were relatives and acquaintances of mine, and they at once invited me to share in their doings, as something to which I had a claim. The effect on me was not surprising in the case of a young man. I considered that they would, of course, so manage the State as to bring men out of bad way of life into a good one. So I watched them very closely to see what they would do.’ (324c2-d6, tr. J. Harward)

Harward’s ‘So I watched them very closely’, in the last sentence, stands for w#ste au0toi=j sfo/dra prosei=xon to\n nou=n, which Bury translates, more accurately, ‘and consequently I gave my mind to them very diligently’. I believe that in those days Plato wrote the Charmides. It was a short time, and the Charmides is a short dialogue.

The occasion that compelled Plato to write the Charmides can be found, in my view, in Xenophon’s Memorabilia:

‘When the Thirty were putting to death many citizens of the highest respectability and were encouraging many in crime, Socrates had remarked: “It seems strange enough to me that a herdsman who lets his cattle decrease and go to the bad should not admit that he is a poor cowherd; but stranger still that a statesman when he causes the citizens to decrease and go to the bad, should feel no shame nor think himself a poor statesman (kako\j ei]nai prosta/thj th=j po/lewj).” This remark was reported to Critias [the leader of the Thirty] and Charicles, who sent for Socrates, showed him the law – which made it illegal to teach ‘the art of words’ (lo/gwn te/xnhn), i.e. the rhetoric – and forbade him to hold conversation with the young. “Well then,” said Socrates, “that there may be no question raised about my obedience, please fix the age limit below which a man is to be accounted young.” “So long,” replied Charicles, “as he is not permitted to sit in the Council, because as yet he lacks wisdom. You shall not converse with anyone who is under thirty.” (I.ii.32-35)

This meant that Socrates was forbidden to have any discussion with Plato. So Plato brought Socrates into a lively discussion with young Critias and a very young Charmides; the Charmides must dramatically precede the incident that caused a rupture between Socrates and Critias. Xenophon writes: ‘When Socrates found that Critias loved Euthydemus and wanted to lead him astray, he tried to restrain him by saying that it was mean and unbecoming in a gentleman to sue like a beggar to the object of his affection, whose good opinion he coveted, stooping to ask a favour that it was wrong to grant. As Critias paid no heed whatever to this protest, Socrates, it is said, exclaimed in the presence of Euthydemus and many others, “Critias seems to have the feelings of a pig: he can no more keep away from Euthydemus than pigs can help rubbing themselves against stones.” Now Critias bore a grudge against Socrates for this and when he was one of the Thirty and was drafting laws with Charicles, he bore it in mind. He inserted a clause which made it illegal “to teach the art of words”. It was a calculated insult to Socrates.’ (I.ii.29-31)

In the Charmides Critias figures as Charmides’ guardian (e0pitro/poj), and in that function he orders Charmides to become an assiduous follower of Socrates: ‘and never desert him at all’ (mh\ a0polei/ph| tou/tou mh/te me/ga mh/te smikro/n, 176b7-8). Socrates protested: ‘Are you going to use violence (Bia/sh| a1ra), without even giving me a preliminary hearing (kai\ ou0d’ a0na/krisin moi dw&seij;)?’ Charmides replied: ‘I will be forcing you (W(j biasome/nou), since Critias here orders me to (e0peidh/per o3de ge e0pita/ttei). With this in mind (pro\j tau=ta), you consider (su\ au] bouleu/ou) what you will do (o3ti poih/seij).’ To this, Socrates replied: ‘But the time for consideration has passed (A)ll ou0demi/a lei/petai boulh/); when you are determined on anything (soi\ ga\r e0pixeirou=nti pra/ttein o9tiou=n), and in the mood of violence (kai\ biazome/nw|), no man will be able to resist you (ou0dei\j oi[o/j t’ e1stai e0nantiou/sqai a0nqrw&pwn).

Charmides: ‘Don’t then (Mh\ toi/nun), don’t you resist me either (mh/de su\ e0nanti/ou).’

Socrates replied ‘I will not resist you’ (Ou0 toi/nun e0nantiw&somai), thus ending the dialogue. (176c7-d5)

Plato must have finished and circulated the Charmides among friends before the incident that he describes in the Seventh Letter: ‘And indeed I saw how these men [i.e. the Thirty] within a short time caused men to look back on the former government as a golden age: and above all how they treated my aged friend Socrates, whom I would hardly scruple to call the most just of men then living, when they tried to send him, along with others, after one of the citizens, to fetch him by force that he might be put to death – their object being that Socrates, whether he wished or no, might be made to share in their political actions; he, however, did not obey them (o9 d’ ou0k e0pei/qeto) and risked the uttermost penalties rather than be a partaker in their unholy deeds.’ (324d6-325a3)

Socrates said about this incident in his Defence speech at his trial: ‘And after the oligarchy was established, the Thirty sent for me with four others to come to the rotunda, and ordered us to bring Leon the Salaminian from Salamis to be put to death. They gave many such orders to others also, because they wished to implicate as many in their crimes as they could. Then I, however, showed again, not in word but by action (ou0 lo/gw| a0ll’ e1rgw|), that I did not care a whit for death, if that be not too rude an expression, but that I did care with all my might not to do anything unjust or unholy. For that government, with all its power, did not frighten me into doing anything unjust, but when we came out of the rotunda, the other four went to Salamis and arrested Leon, but I simply went home.’ (Pl. Apology, 32c4-d7)

Plato’s date of birth on Wikipedia

The article on Plato on Wikipedia is extensive, and grave are the mistakes concerning him. In this article I shall consider mistakes concerning the date of Plato’s birth. In the section on ‘Birth and family’ the Wikipedia article says:

‘In his Seventh Letter, Plato notes that his coming of age coincided with the taking of power by the Thirty, remarking, "But a youth under the age of twenty made himself a laughingstock if he attempted to enter the political arena." Thus, Nails dates Plato's birth to 424/423.’

This is a misquotation of Plato’s Seventh Letter, and of Debra Nails. The Wikipedia article attributes the line "But a youth under the age of twenty made himself a laughingstock if he attempted to enter the political arena" to Plato in his Seventh Letter. But no such line can be found in Plato’s Seventh Letter. The article refers to Debra Nails’ The People of Plato, p. 246. The quoted line stands there, on p. 246, but Debra Nails refers for it to Xenophon’s Memorabilia 3.6.

In Memorabilia 3.6 Xenophon says: ‘Ariston’s son, Glaucon [a brother of Plato], was attempting to become an orator and striving for headship in the state, though he was less than twenty years old; and none of his friends and relatives could check him, though he would get himself dragged from the platform and made himself a laughing-stock. Only Socrates, who took an interest in him for the sake of Plato and Glaucon’s [i. e. the elder Glaucon] son Charmides [the uncle of Plato and Glaucon], managed to check him.’ (Translation E.C. Marchant)

As can be seen, Xenophon’s ‘though he was less than twenty years old’ refers to Plato’s brother Glaucon, not Plato.

Let me now turn to Debra Nails’ dating of Plato's birth. On pp.245-246 she quotes Plato’s Seventh Letter 324b-d: ‘When I was a young man [ne/oj] I had the same ambition as many others: I thought of entering public life as soon as I came of age. And certain happenings in public affairs favoured me, as follows.’

Here I must interrupt Nails’ ‘translation’, for the sentence I underlined misinterprets Plato’s kai/ moi tu/xai tine\j tw~n th=j po/lewj pragma/twn toiai/de pare/peson. R.G. Bury translates ‘But it so happened, I found, that the following changes occurred in the political situation.’ J. Harward translates: ‘And I found myself confronted with the following occurrences in the public affairs of my own city.’ – In Plato’s words there is no ‘being favoured’ by the changes that occurred in his country, changes which he goes on to describe, in Nails’ translation, as follows:

‘The constitution we then had, being anathema to many, was overthrown, and a new government was set up consisting of fifty-one men, two groups – one of eleven and another of ten – to police the market place and perform other necessary duties in the city and the Piraeus respectively, and above them thirty other officers with absolute powers. Some of these men happened to be relatives and acquaintances of mine, and they invited me to join them at once in what seemed to be a proper undertaking.’

Here I must interrupt Nails’ quotation again. The underlined phrase ‘translates’ Plato’s kai\ dh\ kai\ pareka/loun eu0qu\j w(j e0pi\ prosh/konta pra/gmata/ me. Bury translates: ‘and indeed they invited me at once to join their administration, thinking it would be congenial.’ Harward translates: ‘and they at once invited me to share in their doings, as something to which I had a claim.’ Bury’s ‘it would be congenial’ and Harward’s ‘as something to which I had a claim’ render Plato’s w(j e0pi\ prosh/konta pra/gmata/ me, which is missing in Nails’ ‘in what seemed to be a proper undertaking’.

The remaining sentence of Nails’ translation is the following: ‘My attitude toward them is not surprising, because I was young; I thought that they were going to lead the city out of the unjust life she had been living and establish her in the path of justice, so that I watched them eagerly to see what they would do.’ (Ltr. 7.324b-d)

Nails’ ‘‘My attitude toward them is not surprising, because I was young’ ‘translates’ Plato’s kai\ e0gw_ qaumasto\n ou0de\n e1paqon u9po\ neo/thtoj. Bury translates: ‘The feelings I then experienced, owing to my youth, were in no way surprising’. His translation is longwinded, but correct in substance – if we take ‘feelings’ in a broad sense, i.e. including thoughts. For it was what Plato thought the Thirty were going to do – ‘I thought (w)|h/qhn) that they were going to lead the city out of the unjust life and establish her in the path of justice’ – that he excused by his youth. The problem is with the Greek e1paqon, which Bury correctly translates ‘experienced’; in English (and in Czech) we ‘think’; we do not ‘experience thinking’. Harward found a brilliant solution; he translates: ‘The effect on me was not surprising (kai\ e0gw_ qaumasto\n ou0de\n e1paqon) in the case of a young man (u9po\ neo/thtoj).’

Then comes Nails’ interpretation: ‘Plato makes his coming of age congruent with the ascendance of the Thirty. In one sense, Plato could be regarded as “coming of age” at eighteen since that is when he would be presented to the demesmen of Collytus, undergo scrutiny, and be registered as a citizen … But a youth under the age of twenty made himself a laughingstock if he attempted to enter a political arena (Xen. Mem. 3.6). It thus appears that Plato is turning twenty as the Thirty take control of Athens; and that he does not immediately accept the invitation to join them is unexceptional, given his youth. Hence I date Plato’s birth 424/3.’

Nails’ ‘Plato makes his coming of age congruent with the ascendance of the Thirty’ is wrong. Had Plato’s ‘coming of age’ been ‘congruent with the ascendance of the Thirty’, his relatives and acquaintances could not possibly have invited him ‘to join them at once’, unless they wanted to make him a laughingstock.

Socrates on forms in Plato's Cratylus, and in Xenophon’s Memorabilia

The Cratylus is opened by Hermogenes, addressing Cratylus: ‘Suppose (Bou/lei ou]n) that we make Socrates a party to the argument (kai\ Swkra/tei tw~|de a0nakoinwsw&meqa to\n lo/gon)?’ Cratylus has no objection: ‘If you please’ (Ei1 soi dokei=, tr. B. Jowett) Cratylus maintains that there is a correctness of name (o0no/matoj o0rqo/thta ei]nai) for each thing (e9ka/stw| tw~n o1ntwn), which pertains to it by nature (fu/sei pefukui=an, 383a4-5). Hermogenes argues that there is no correctness of names apart from convention (sunqh/kh) and agreement (kai\ o9mologi/a): ‘Any name which one gives to something (o3 ti a1n ti/j tw| qh=tai o1noma), this is the right one (tou=to ei]nai to\ o0rqo/n); and if one changes that and gives another (kai\ a2n au0qi/j ge e3teron metaqh=tai), the new name is as correct as the old (ou0de\n h3tton to\ u3steron o0rqw~j e1xein tou= prote/rou), just as we often change those of our slaves (w#sper toi=j oi0ke/taij h9mei=j metatiqe/meqa, 384d1-5).' Socrates asks whether Hermogenes has the same view concerning things (po/teron kai\ ta\ o1nta ou3twj e1xein soi fai/netai). Hermogenes says that sometimes he intended to go that way, but shrank from it; he agrees with Socrates ‘that things have some kind of their own durable essence’ (o3ti au0ta\ au9tw~n ou0si/an e1xonta/ tina be/baio/n e0sti ta\ pra/gmata, 386e3-4). Within this framework Socrates introduces forms, forms invented, contemplated and looked at by artisans. 

Socrates: ‘To what does the carpenter look in making the shuttle (poi= ble/pwn o9 te/ktwn th\n kerki/da poiei=;)? Does he not look to the way in which the shuttle must, in the nature of things, operate (a]r’ ou0 pro\j toiou=to/n ti o4 e0pefu/kei kerki/zein;)?’

Hermogenes: ‘Certainly (Pa/nu ge).’

Socrates: ‘And suppose the shuttle to be broken in making (Ti/ de/; a1n katagh=| au0tw~| h9 kerki\j poiou=nti), will he make another (po/teron pa/lin poih/sei a1llhn), looking to the broken one (pro\j th\n kateagui=an ble/pwn)? or will he look to the form (h2 pro\j e0kei=no to\ ei]=doj) to which he looked (pro\j o3per) when he was making the broken one (kai\ h4n kate/acen e0poi/ei;)?’

Hermogenes: ‘To the latter (Pro\j e0kei=no), I should imagine (e1moige dokei=).’

S.: ‘Might not that be justly called the true shuttle (Ou0kou=n e0kei=no dikaio/tat’ a1n au0to\ o4 e1stin kerki\j kale/saimen;)?’

H.: ‘I think so (E1moige dokei=).’

S.: ‘And whatever shuttles are wanted, for the manufacture of garments, thin or thick, of flaxen, woollen, or other material (Ou0kou=n e0peida\n de/h| leptw~| i9mati/w| h2 paxei= h2 linw~| h2 e0rew~| h2 o9poiw|ou=n kerki/da poiei=n), all they must, indeed (pa/saj me\n dei=), have the form of the shuttle (to\ th=j kerki/doj e1xein ei]doj), which is naturally most suitable for each (oi3a d’ e9ka/stw| kalli/sth e0pefu/kei); this nature must be produced (tau/thn a0podido/nai th\n fu/sin) for each special work (ei0j to\ e1rgon e3kaston).

H.: ‘Yes (Nai/).’

S.: ‘And the same holds of other instruments (Kai\ peri\ tw~n a1llwn dh\ o0rga/nwn o9 au0to\j tro/poj): When a man has invented the instrument which is naturally adapted to each work (to\ fu/sei e9ka/stw| pefuko\j o1rganon e0ceuro/nta), he must express it in the material which he employs (dei= a0podou=nai ei0j e0kei=no e0c ou[ a2n poih=|), and not others which he may fancy (ou0x oi[on a2n au0to\j boulhqh=|), but which fits naturally (a0ll’ oi[on e0pefu/kei); for example, he ought to know how to put into iron the awls adapted by nature for their several uses (to\ fu/sei ga\r e9ka/stw|, w(j e1oike, tru/panon pefuko\j ei0j to\n si/dhron dei= e0pi/stasqai tiqe/nai).

H.: ‘Certainly (Pa/nu ge).’

S.: ‘And the shuttle by nature (Kai\ th\n fu/sei kerki/da), which is fitting for each task (e9ka/stw| pefukui=an), into wood (ei0j cu/lon).’

H.: ‘True (E1sti tau=ta).’

S.: ‘For to the several kinds of webs fits by nature (Fu/sei ga\r h]n e9ka/stw| ei1dei u9fa/smatoj), as it appears (w(j e1oiken), each shuttle (e9ka/sth kerki/j); and this is true of instruments in general (kai\ ta]lla ou3twj).

H.: ‘Yes (Nai/)’

***

It is at this point, when Socrates points to forms as inventions of the artisans, that the difference between his forms, and Plato’s Forms, comes to the fore. Plato’s Form is not invented, it is ‘the being that truly is’ (h9 ou0si/a o1ntwj ou]sa, Phaedrus 247c7; to\ o2n o1ntwj, 249c4), to which true knowledge relates (peri\ h4n to\ th=j a0lhqou=j e0pisth=mhj ge/noj, 247c8), knowledge to which coming into being does not attach (ou0x h[| ge/nesij pro/sestin, 247d7).

I emphasize this point, for one might think that the difference is given, in the first place, by the very fact that Socrates makes his artisans think about forms, whereas in Plato only philosophers can see the Forms and think about them. But this is not the case. Plato had to explain human speech, ‘which flows’ – through the air from man to man – ‘in a manifold of sound-perceptions (e0k pollw~n i0o\n ai0sqh/sewn), which are collected into one by reasoning (ei0j e4n logismw~| sunairou/menon), which is a recollection of those things (tou=to d’ e0stin a0na/mnhsij e0kei/nwn) which our soul beheld aforetime (a3 pot’ ei]den h9mw~n h9 yuxh/), when it rose up into what really is (a0naku/yasa ei0j to\ o2n o1ntwj).’ (Phaedrus 249b7-c4)

***

Plato says in his Second letter that ‘no treatise by Plato exists or will exist (ou0d’ e1sti su/ggramma Pla/twnoj ou0de\n ou0d e1stai), but those which now bear his name (ta\ de\ nu=n lego/mena) belong to a Socrates (Swkra/touj e0sti/) become fair and young (kalou= kai\ ne/ou gegono/toj, 314c).’ Socrates ‘become fair and young? The Phaedrus, immediately comes to one’s mind.

In Xenophon’s view, Plato did not make Socrates ‘fair and young’; he misrepresented him, projecting himself to the pages of the Phaedrus through his Socrates. It was with the Phaedrus in his mind that Xenophon wrote Socrates’ three discussions with artisans, in which he presented Socrates as he knew him.

Xenophon begins with Socrates ‘entering the house of Parrasius the painter (ei0selqw\n pro\j Parra/sion to\n zwgra/fon) and having a discussion with him’ (kai\ dialego/menoj au0tw~|).

Socrates: ‘Is painting a representation of things seen, Parrasius (A]ra, w} Parra/sie, grafikh/ e0stin ei0kasi/a tw~n o9rwme/nwn;)? Anyhow, bodies (sw&mata) high (ta\ gou=n u9yhla/) and low (kai\ ta\ koi=la), in light (kai\ ta\ fwteina/) and in shadow (kai\ ta\ skoteina/), and hard (kai\ ta\ sklhra/) and soft (kai\ ta\ malaka/), and rough (kai\ ta\ traxe/a) and smooth (kai\ ta\ lei=a), and young (kai\ ta\ ne/a) and old (kai\ ta\ palaia/), you painters with your colours represent and reproduce (dia\ tw~n xrwma/twn a0peika/zontej e0kmimei=sqe).’

Parrasius: ‘True (Alhqh= le/geij).’

S.: ‘And further (Kai\ mh/n), when you copy form of beauty (ta/ ge kala\ ei1dh a0fomoiou=ntej), since it is not easy (e0peidh\ ou0 r9a|/dion) to come across a man (e9ni\ a0nqrw&pw| perituxei=n) whose shape is perfect (a1mempta pa/nta e1xonti) you bring together the most beautiful details of several (e0k pollw=n suna/gontej ta\ e0c e9ka/stou ka/llista), and thus make the whole bodies look beautiful (ou3twj o3la ta\ sw&mata kala\ poiei=te fai/nesqai).’

P.: ‘Yes, we do!’ (Poiou=men ga/r, ou3tw).

***

This passage is again reminiscent of the Phaedrus, but not of its first part – with Socrates’ first speech that vies with Lysias’ eroticus in deploring homosexual love-making (w(j lu/koi a1rnaj a0gapw~sin, w(j pai=da filou/sin e0ra/stai, ‘As wolf to lamb, so lover to his lad’, 241d1, tr. Hackforth), and with Socrates’ second speech, the Palinode, in which Plato’s Forms and the Platonic love come to prominence – but of its second part, namely the method (ei]doj, 265c9) of ‘collections’ (sunagwgai/, 266b4): ‘perceiving and bringing into one form items that are scattered in many places (ei0j mi/an te i0de/an sunorw~nta a1gein ta\ pollaxh=| diesparme/na, 265d3-4).

The correlative method of ‘divisions’ (diaire/seij, 266b4): – ‘being able to cut it up again, form by form’ (to\ pa/lin kat’ ei1dh du/nasqai diate/mnein, 265e1) – comes to the fore in Socrates’ following discussion with the painter in Xenophon’s Memorabilia.

***

S.: ‘Well now (Ti/ ga/r;), do you reproduce the character of the soul (a0pomimei=sqe th=j yuxh=j ei]doj) that is in the highest degree captivating (to\ piqanw&taton), and delightful (kai\ h3diston), and friendly (kai\ filikw&taton), fascinating (kai\ poqeino/taton), and lovable (kai\ e0rasmiw&taton)? Or is it impossible to imitate that (h2 ou0de\ mimhto/n e0sti tou=to;)?

P.: Oh no, Socrates; for how could one imitate (Pw~j ga\r a2n mimhto\n ei1h, w} Sw&kratej) that which has neither shape (o4 mh/te summetri/an e1xei) nor colour (mh/te xrw~ma) nor any of the qualities you mentioned just now (mh/te w{n su\ ei]paj a1rti mhde\n e1xei), and is not even visible (mhde\ o3lwj o9rato/n e0stin;)?’

S.: ‘Do human beings commonly express (A]r’ ou]n gi/gnetai e0n a0nqrw&pw|) the feelings of sympathy and aversion by their looks (to/ te filofro/nwj kai\ to\ e0xqrw~j ble/pein pro/j tinaj;)?

P.: ‘I think so’ (E!moige dokei=).

S.: ‘Then cannot thus much (Ou0kou=n tou=to/ ge) be imitated in the eyes (mimhto\n e0n toi=j o1mmasi;)?’

P.: ‘Undoubtedly’ (Kai\ ma/la).

S.: ‘Do you think that the joys and sorrows of their friends (E0pi\ de\ toi=j tw~n fi/lwn a0gaqoi=j kai\ toi=j kakoi=j) produce the same expression on men’s faces (o9moi/wj soi dokou=sin e1xein ta\ pro/swpa), whether they really care or not (oi3 te fronti/zontej kai\ oi9 mh/;)?

P.: ‘Oh no (Ma\ Di’), of course not (ou0 dh=ta): they look radiant at their joys (e0pi\ me\n ga\r toi=j a0gaqoi=j faidroi/), downcast at their sorrows (e0pi\ de\ toi=j kakoi=j skuqrwpoi\ gi/gnontai).’

S.: ‘Then is it possible to represent these looks too (Ou0kou=n kai\ tau=ta dunato\n a0peika/zein;)?’

P.: ‘Undoubtedly’ (Kai\ ma/la).

S.: ‘Moreover (Alla\ mh/n), nobility (kai\ to\ megaloprepe/j te) and dignity (kai\ e0leuqe/rion), self-abasement (kai\ to\ tapeino/n te) and servility (kai\ a0neleu/qeron), prudence (kai\ to\ swfroniko/n te) and understanding (kai\ fro/nimon), insolence (kai\ to\ u9bristiko/n te) and vulgarity (kai\ a0peiro/kalon), are reflected in the face and in the attitudes of the body whether still or in motion (kai\ dia\ tou= prosw&pou kai\ dia\ tw~n sxhma/twn kai\  e9stw&twn kai\ kinoume/nwn a0nqrw&pwn diafai/nei).’

P.: ‘True (Alhqh=\ le/geij)

S.: ‘Then these, too, can be imitated, can they not (Ou0kou=n kai\ tau=ta mimhta/;)?’

P.: ‘Undoubtedly’ (Kai\ ma/la).

S.: ‘Now which do you think (Po/teron ou=n nomi/zeij) the more pleasing sight (h3dion o9ra=n), one whose features and bearing reflect a beautiful and good and lovable character (tou\j a0nqrw&pouj di’ w{n ta\ kala/ te kai\ a0gaqa\ kai\ a0gaphta\ h1qh fai/netai), or one who is the embodiment of what is ugly and depraved and hateful (h2 di’ w{n ta\ ai0sxra/ te kai\ ponhra\ kai\ mishta/;)?’

P.: No doubt there is a great difference (Polu\ nh\ Di/’ diafe/rei), Socrates (w} Sw&kratej).’

(III. x. 1-5)

***

In my view, when Xenophon wrote Socrates’ discussion with the painter, he had the Phaedran Palinode in front of his mind. For it is in the Palinode that Plato’s Socrates most emphatically becomes Plato himself:

‘Of that place beyond the heavens (to\n de\ u9peroura/nion to/pon) none of our earthly poets has yet sung, and none shall sing worthily (ou1te tij u3mnhse/ pw tw~n th~|de poihth\j ou1te pote\ u9mnh/sei kat’ a0ci/an). But this is the manner of it (e1xei de w{de), for assuredly we must be bold to speak what is true (tolmhte/on ga\r ou]n to/ ge a0lhqe\j ei0pei=n), above all when  our discourse is upon truth (a1llwj te kai\ peri\ a0lhqei/aj le/gonta). It is there that true Being dwells, without colour or shape, that cannot be touched; reason alone, the soul’s pilot, can behold it, and all true knowledge is knowledge thereof (h9 ga\r a0xrw&mato/j te kai\ a0sxhma/tistoj kai\ a0nafh\j ou0si/a o1ntwj ou]sa, yuxh=j kubernh/th| mo/nw| qeath\ nw~|, peri\ h4n to\ th=j a0lhqou=j e0pisth/mhj ge/noj, tou=ton e1xei to\n to/pon).’ (Phaedr. 247c3-d1)

Plato’s Forms – which are without colour or shape, and cannot be touched – sustain, nourish what’s best in the soul: ‘Now the reason wherefore the souls are fain and eager to behold the Plain of Truth, and discover it, lies herein (ou] d’ e3nex’ h9 pollh\ spoudh\ to\ a0lhqei/aj i0dei=n pedi/on ou[ e0stin): to wit, that the pasturage that is proper to their noblest part comes from that Meadow (h3 te dh\ prosh/kousa yuxh=j tw~| a0ri/stw| nomh\ e0k tou= e0kei= leimw&noj tugxa/nei ou]sa).’ (248b5-c1, tr. R. Hackforth)

***

On another occasion Socrates visited Cleiton the sculptor (Pro\j de\ Klei/twna to\n a0ndriantopoio\n ei0selqw&n pote), and while conversing with him said (kai\ dialego/menoj au0tw~|): “Cleiton, that your statues of runners, wrestlers, boxers and fighters are beautiful (O3ti me/n, w} Klei/twn, kaloi\ ou4j poei=j dromei=j te kai\ palaista\j kai\ pu/ktaj kai\ pagkratiasta/j) I see and know (o9rw~ te kai\ oi]da). But how do you produce in them that illusion of life which is their most alluring charm to the beholder (o4 de\ ma/lista yuxagwgei= dia\ th=j o1yewj tou\j a0nqrw&pouj, to\ zw&tikon fai/nesqai, pw~j tou=to e0nerga/zh| toi=j a0ndria=si;)?”

As Cleiton was puzzled (E0pei\ de\ a0porw~n o9 Klei/twn) and did not reply at once (ou0 taxu\ a0pekri/nato), “Is it (A]r’),” he added (e1fh), “by faithfully representing the forms of living beings (toi=j tw~n zw&ntwn ei1desin a0peika/zwn to\ e1rgon) that you make your statues look as if they lived (zwtikwte/rouj poiei=j fai/nesqai tou\j a0ndria/ntaj;)?”

Cleiton: ‘Undoubtedly’ (Kai\ ma/la).

Socrates: ‘Then is it not by accurately representing the different parts of the body as they are affected by the pose – the flesh wrinkled or tense, the limbs compressed or outstretched, the muscles taut or loose (Ou0kou=n ta/ te u9po\ tw~n sxhma/twn kataspw&mena kai\ ta0naspw&mena e0n toi=j sw&masi kai\ ta\ sumpiezo/mena kai\ ta\ dielko/mena kai\ ta\ e0nteino/mena kai\ ta\ a0nie/mena a0peika/zwn) – that you make them look more like real members and more convincing (o9moio/tera/ te toi=j a0lhqinoi=j kai\ piqanw&tera poiei=j fai/nesqai;)?”

C.: ‘Yes, certainly’ (Pa/nu me\n ou=n).

S.: ‘Does not the exact imitation of the feelings that affect bodies in action (Ta\ de\ kai\ ta\ pa/qh tw~n piou/ntwn ti swma/twn a0pomimei=sqai) also produce a sense of satisfaction (ou0 poiei= tina te/ryin) in the spectator (toi=j qewme/noij;)?’

C.: ‘Oh yes, presumably’ (Ei0ko\j gou=n).

S.: ‘Then must not the threatening look in the eyes of fighters be accurately represented (Ou0kou=n kai\ tw~n me\n maxome/nwn a0peilhtika\ ta\ o1mmata a0peikaste/on), and the triumphant expression on the face of conquerors be imitated (tw~n de\ nenikhko/twn eu0frainome/nwn h9 o1yij mimhte/a;)?’

C.: ‘Most certainly’ (Sfo/dra ge).

S.: ‘It follows, then, that the sculptor must (Dei= a1ra to\n a0ndriantopoio\n) represent in his figures the activities of the soul (ta\ th=j yuxh=j e1rga tw~| ei1dei proseika/zein).’

(III. x. 6-8)

***

Socrates’ thought that the artists must represent in their works the activities of the soul dominates his discussion with the painter Parrasias and the sculptor Cleiton. The soul is equally dominant in the Palinode, Socrates’ second speech in the Phaedrus. But the soul in the Phaedran Palinode is turned towards the Forms that have no colour, no shape, that cannot be touched, which no poet has ever celebrated, and which cannot be celebrated worthily by any poet, whereas in Socrates’ discussion with the painter it is the expressions of human face – red or pale, face that can be touched and caressed – through which the soul manifests itself.

The painter Parrasias, when Socrates asks him, whether he can imitate the character ‘of the soul’ (th=j yuxh~j), exclaims: ‘how could one imitate that which has neither shape, nor colour, and is not even visible?’ (Xenophon’s Memorabilia III. X. 3) But Socrates points to him that human beings express their feelings of sympathy and aversion in their looks, which the painter can imitate in his paintings. Men’s joys and sorrows are expressed in men’s faces, which can be imitated by painters. Men’s nobility and dignity, men’s self-abasement and servility, men’s prudence and understanding, men’s insolence and vulgarity, ‘are reflected in the face and in the attitude of the body, whether still or in motion’, which can be imitated by painters.

Socrates’ discussion with the painter culminates in the passage in which he points to the pleasing sight offered by the painting of men through which ‘beautiful and good characters’ (ta\ kala/ te kai/ a0gaqa\ h1qh) can be perceived. How important this notion of kaloka0gaqi/a was for Socrates is well documented by Aristophanes in his Clouds. Strepsiades wants to send his son to the Thinkery (frontisth/rion) of wise souls (yuxw~n sofw~n). His son asks ‘Who are they?’ (ei0si\n de\ ti/nej;). Strepsiades replies: ‘I do not exactly know their name (ou0k oi]d’ a0kribw~j t’ou1noma), they are thinkers beautiful and good’ (merimnosofistai\ kaloi/ te k’a0gaqoi/). Strepsiades’ son Pheidippides, who from his mother inherited aristocratic tastes and leanings, immediately knows: ‘You mean those braggers, the pale, barefoot (tou\j a0lazo/naj tou\j w)xriw~ntaj tou\j a0nupodh/touj le/geij), and among them the miserable Socrates and Chaerephon (w{n o9 kakodai/mwn Swkra/thj kai\ Xairefw~n).’ (94-104) Strepsiades (the Twister, strefein ‘to twist’) wants to send his son Pheidippides – Pheidippides' name combines the feido/j pheidos ‘thrift’ of the father with the aristocratic love of horses (i3ppoj hippos ‘horse’) on which the mother insisted; Strepsiades tells us that they had quite an argument about the name (63-80) – to the Thinkery of wise man so that he learns the art of clever speaking and thus gets Strepsiades out of his debts, into which Pheidippides got him with his extravagance. But when he finally gets Pheidippides into Socrates’ Thinkery, Pheidippides becomes enamoured with Socrates, and does not want to know anything about his father’s debts.

The comedy ends with Strepsiades burning the Thinkery of men who outraged the gods by their observations of the Moon: ti/ ga\r maqo/ntej tou\j qeou\j u9bri/zete ‘why on earth do you outrage the gods’, kai\ th=j selh/nhj e0skopei=sqe th\n e3dran, ‘and make observations on the seat of the Moon?’ (1506-7) In his Defence speech Socrates referred to Aristophanes’ comedy with gusto (Plato, Apology of Socrates, 19b-c),

***

Socrates does not bring in the word ‘soul’ (yuxh/) in his discussion with the sculptor Cleiton; it is only in the comment with which he ends the discussion with Cleiton that he makes it clear that all his discussion with him – and with the painter – was about the soul. He begins with the ‘illusion of life’ (to\ zwtiko/n), which Cleiton gives to his sculptures, and which makes them so attractive.

Socrates’ view that the soul is the source of life comes to the fore in the Phaedo, where Socrates discusses it with his friends in prison, on the day at the end of which he drinks the hemlock, having been sentenced to death. In the Cratylus the soul (h9 yuxh/) is pointed at as ‘the cause of life to the body’ (tw~| sw&mati ai1tio/n e0sti tou= zh=n au0tw~|, 399d11-12|). But Socrates’ view of the soul is most prominently expressed in Theatetus 185c-186b, which is dramatically situated as a preamble to the Euthyphro – as we learn at the very end of the dialogue: ‘Well, now I must go to the King’s Porch (nu=n me\n ou]n a0panthte/on moi ei0j th\n tou= basile/wj stoa/n) to face the charge Meletus has brought against me (e0pi\ th\n Melh/tou grafh\n h3n me ge/graptai ). But let’s meet here again, Theodorus, in the morning (e3wqen de\, w} Qeo/dwre, deu=ro pa/lin a0pantw~men).’

***

On visiting Pistias the armourer (Pro\j de\ Pisti/an to\n qwrakopoio\n ei0selqw&n), who showed him some well-made breastplates (e0pidei/cantoj au0tou= tw~| Swkra/tei qw&rakaj eu] ei0rgasme/nouj), Socrates exclaimed:

‘Upon my word (Nh\ th=n H3ran), Pistias, it’s a beautiful invention (kalo/n ge, w} Pisti/a, to\ eu3rhma), for the breastplate covers the parts that need protection (to\ ta\ me\n deo/mena ske/phj tou= a0nqrw&pou skepa/zein to\n qw&raka) without impending the use of the hands (tai=j de\ xersi\ mh\ kwlu/ein xrh=sqai). But tell me (a0ta\r le/con moi), Pistias (w} Pisti/a), why do you charge more for your breastplates than any other maker, though they are no stronger and cost no more to make (dia\ ti/ ou1t’ i0sxurote/rouj ou1te poluteleste/rouj tw~n a1llwn poiw~n tou\j qw&rakaj plei/onoj pwlei=j;)?’

Pistias: ‘Because (O3ti) the proportions of mine are better, Socrates (w} Sw&kratej, eu0ruqmote/rouj poiw~).’

Socrates: ‘And how do you show their proportions when you ask a higher price – by weight or measure (To\n de\ r9uqmo/n, po/tera me/trw| h1 staqmw~| a0podeiknu/wn plei/onoj tima|=;)? For I presume you don’t make them all of the same weight or the same size (ou0 ga\r dh\ i1souj ge pa/ntaj ou0de\ o9moi/ouj oi]mai/ se poiei=n), that is, if you make them to fit (ei1 ge a9rmo/ttontaj poiei=j)?’

P.: ‘Fit? Why, of course! A breastplate is of no use without that!’ (A0lla\ nh\ Di/’, poiw~: ou0de\n ga\r o1felo/j e0sti qw&rakoj a1neu tou/tou.)

S.: ‘Then are not some human bodies well, others ill proportioned? (Ou0kou=n, sw&mata/ ge a0nqrw&pwn ta\ me\n eu1ruqma e0sti, ta\ de\ a1rruqma;)

P.: ‘Certainly’ (Pa/nu me\n ou]n).

S.: ‘Then if a breastplate is to fit an ill-proportioned body, how do you make it well-proportioned (Pw~j ou]n tw~| a0rru/qmw| sw&mati a9rmo/ttonta to\n qw&raka eu1ruqmon poiei=j;)?’

P.: ‘By making it fit; for if it is a good fit it is well proportioned.’ (W#sper kai\ a9rmo/ttonta: o9 a9rmo/ttwn ga/r e0stin eu1ruqmoj.)

S.: Apparently you mean well-proportioned not absolutely (Dokei=j moi to\ eu1ruqmon ou0 kaq’ e9auto\ le/gein), but in relation to the wearer (a0lla\ pro\j to\n xrw/menon), as you might call a shield (w#sper a2n ei0 fai/hj a0spi/da) well-proportioned for the man whom it fits (w{| a2n a9rmo/tth|, tou/tw| eu1ruqmon ei]nai), or a military cape (kai\ xlamu/da) – and this seems to apply to everything according to you (kai\ ta]lla w(sau/twj e1oiken e1xein tw~| sw~| lo/gw|). And perhaps there is another important advantage in a good fit (i1swj de\ kai\ a1llo ti ou0 mikro\n a0gaqo\n tw~| a9rmo/ttein pro/sesti).

P.: ‘Tell it me (Di/dacon), if you know, Socrates (w} Sw&kratej, ei1 ti e1xeij).’

S.: ‘The good fit is less heavy to wear than the misfit (H[tton tw~| ba/rei pie/zousin oi9 a9rmo/ttontej tw~n a0narmo/stwn), though both are of the same weight (to\n au0to\n staqmo\n e1xontej). For the misfit (oi9 me\n ga\r a0na/rmostoi), hanging entirely from the shoulders (h1 o3loi e0k tw~n w!mwn krema/menoi), or pressing on some other part of the body (h1 kai\ a1llo ti tou= sw&matoj sfo/dra pie/zontej), proves uncomfortable and irksome (du/sforoi kai\ xalepoi\ gi/gnontai); but the good fit (oi9 de\ a9rmo/ttontej), with its weight distributed (dieilhmme/noi to\ ba/roj) over the collar-bone (to\ me\n u9po\ tw~n kleidw~n) and shoulder-blades (kai\ e0pwmi/dwn), the shoulders (to\ d’ u9po\ tw~n w!mwn), chest (to\ de\ u9po\ tou= sth/qouj), back (to\ de\ u9po\ tou= nw&tou) and belly (to\ de\ u9po\ tou= gastro/j), may almost be called an accessory rather than an encumbrance (o0li/gou dei=n ou0 forh/mati, a0lla\ prosqh/mati e0oi/kasin).’

P.: ‘The advantage you speak of is the very one which I think makes my work worth a big price (Ei1rhkaj au0to/ di’ o3per e1gwge ta\ e0ma\ e1rga plei/stou a1cia nomi/zw ei]nai). Some (e1nioi), however (me/ntoi), prefer to buy the ornamented and the gold-plated breastplates (tou\j poiki/louj kai\ tou\j e0pixru/souj qw&rakaj ma~llon w)nou=ntai).’

S.: ‘Still (A0lla\ mh/n), if the consequence is (ei1 ge di/a tau=ta) that they buy misfits (mh\ a9rmo/ttontaj w)nou=ntai), it seems to me they buy ornamented and gold-plated trash (kako\n e1moige dokou=si poiki/lon te kai\ e0pi/xruson w)nei=sqai). However (a0ta/r), as the body is not rigid (tou= sw&matoj mh\ me/nontoj), but now bent (a0lla\ to/te me\n kurtoume/nou), now straight (to/te de\ o0rqoume/nou), how can tight breastplates (pw~j a2n a0kribei=j qw&rakej) fit (a9rmo/ttoien;)?’

P.: ‘They can’t’ (Ou0damw~j).

S.: ‘You mean (le/geij) that the good fits (a9rmo/ttein) are not the tight ones (ou0 tou\j a0kribei=j), but those that don’t chafe (a0lla\ tou\j mh\ lupou=ntaj) the wearer (e0n th=| xrei/a|)?’

P.: ‘That is your own meaning (Au0to\j tou=to le/geij), Socrates (w} Sw&kratej), and you have hit the right nail on the head (kai\ pa/nu o0rqw~j a0pode/xh|).’

(III. x. 9-15, translation E.C. Marchant)

***

On reading the discussion of Socrates with the armourer, one can’t help thinking of Socrates in Plato’s Laches, where Laches, a foremost Athenian commander, speaks of the disastrous rout at Delium: ‘Socrates accompanied me in the retreat from Delium (e0n th=| a0po\ Dhli/ou fugh=| met’ e0mou= sunanexw&rei), and I assure you (ka0gw& soi le/gw) that if the rest had chosen to be like him (o3ti ei0 oi9 a1lloi h1qelon toiou=toi ei]nai), our city would be holding up her head (o0rqh\ a2n h9mw~n h9 po/lij h]n) and would not then have had such a terrible fall (kai\ ou0k a2n e1pese to/te toiou=ton ptw~ma, 181b1-4, tr. W.R.M. Lamb).’

Alcibiades speaks about it in Plato’s Symposium: ‘It was worth seeing Socrates (a1cion h]n qea/sasqai Swkra/th) when the army retreated in flight from Delium (o3te a0po\ Dhli/ou fugh]| a0nexw&rei to\ strato/pedon). I happened to be there, having a horse (e1tuxon ga\r parageno/menoj i3ppon e1xwn), Socrates was in heavy armour (ou[toj de\ o3pla) … I could see him better than at Potidaea … firstly, how greatly he surpassed Laches in being cool and collected (prw~ton me\n o3son perih=n La/xhtoj tw~| e1mfrwn e]nai), and then, he seemed to me (e1peita e1moig’ e0do/kei), Aristophanes (w} A)risto/fanej), as you say (to\ so\n dh\ tou=to), ‘to be swaggering (brenqu/omenoj) and casting his eyes around (kai\ tw)fqalmw_ paraba/llwn, Clouds 362)’, calmly contemplating (h0re/ma paraskopw~n) both the friends (kai\ tou\j fili/ouj) and the enemies (kai\ tou\j polemi/ouj), and making very intelligible to anybody (dh=loj w@n panti/), even from a distance (kai\ pa/nu po/rrwqen), that whoever attacked him (o3ti ei1 tij a3yetai tou/tou tou= a0ndro/j), would be likely to meet with a stout resistance (ma/la e0rrwme/nwj a0munei=tai). And in this way (dio/) he and his friend safely escaped (kai\ a0sfalw~j a0ph/|ei kai\ ou[toj kai\ o9 e9tai=roj).’ (220d8-221b7)

But as such, Socrates’ discussion with the armourer seems to be unrelated to the previous two discussions, in which Socrates pointed his interlocutors to the forms, with which they operated, and thus raised their eyes to the soul – which they believed to be invisible and therefore inimitable, be it in painting or in sculpture – showing them that the depiction of its character was always their main objective.

Socrates: ‘But tell me, Pistias, why do you charge more for your breastplates than any other maker, though they are no stronger and cost no more to make’ Pistias: ‘Because the proportions of mine are better … Socrates: ‘You mean that the good fits are not the tight ones, but those that don’t chafe the wearer?’ Pistias: ‘That is your own meaning, Socrates, and you have hit the right nail on the head.’

Marchant gives us, in his translation, a brilliant picture of the armourer’s pre-eminence among armourers, and of Socrates’ expert appreciation of it. But his translation misses the role the forms play throughout the discussion; the interplay between rhythm and harmony, and their negations, dominates the whole discussion. The English language can, in this case, follow the Greek very closely – at the expense of sounding stilted. A small prise to pay, if we are interested in Socrates:

Socrates asks Pistias, why does he charge more for his breastplates than any other maker. Pistias answers: ‘Because I make them more eurhythmic. Socrates asks, how does Pistias show the customer that the rhythm is worth more money: ‘by measure or by weight?’ And then he adds: ‘For you don’t make them all of the same weight or the same size, if you want to make them harmonizing.’ Pistias replies: ‘A breastplate is of no use without that.’ Socrates: ‘Then are not some human bodies eurhythmic, others arrhythmic? … How then do you make eurhythmic a breastplate that harmonizes an arrhythmic body?’ Pistias: ‘The same way I make it harmonize, for the one that harmonizes is eurhythmic.’ Socrates: ‘Apparently you don’t mean eurhythmic in itself (kaq’ e9auto/), but in relation to the one who uses the implement (pro\j to\n xrw/menon) … to whomever an implement harmonizes, to him it is eurhythmic.

***

I emphasized the one who uses, for the notion of use plays a crucial role in the Cratylus, in the section on the art of naming, which follows the section with which I opened this post.

***

And perhaps there is another good (a0gaqo/n) in the harmonizing (tw~| a9rmo/ttein pro/sesti).’ Pistias is intrigued: ‘Teach, Socrates, if you have something.’ Socrates explains: ‘The harmonizing breastplates are less heavy to wear than the not-harmonizing (tw~n a0narmo/stwn), for the not-harmonizing hang entirely from the shoulders or press some other part of the body, but the harmonizing, with its weight well distributed over the collar-bone and shoulder-blades, the shoulders, chest, back and belly, may almost be called an accessory rather than an encumbrance.’ Pistias: ‘What you said is the very reason why I consider my work highly valuable. But some prefer to buy the ornamented and the gold-plated breastplates.’ Socrates: ‘But since they buy the not-harmonizing breastplates, they buy ornamented and gold-plated badness (kako/n). However, as the body is not rigid, but now bent, now straight, how can tight breastplates harmonize?’ Pistias: ‘They can’t’. Socrates: ‘You mean that those that harmonize are not the tight ones, but those that don’t chafe the wearer in their use (e0n th=| xrei/a|)?’ Pistias: ‘You say it yourself, Socrates, and you have hit the right nail on the head.’

I’ve emphasized a0gaqo/n (‘good’) and kako/n (‘badness’), for the Greeks used these terms in their everyday tasks, activities, and thoughts, and their ‘pregnant’ meaning and significance – ‘good’ and ‘evil’ – is more or less closely related to these. Even more alien to our way of thinking is the far greater use of the term kalo/n, used in its close correlation to a0gaqo/n. In Socrates’ and in Xenophon’s mind the notion of kaloka0gaqi/a – beautiful and good – was omnipresent. In their correlation, these terms come up at the very beginning of Socrates’ discussion with the armourer: ‘On visiting Pistias the armourer, who showed him some well-made breastplates (eu] ei0rgasme/nouj), Socrates exclaimed: ‘Upon my word, Pistias, it’s a beautiful (kalo/n) invention.’