Sunday, December 27, 2020

Dramatic Anachronism in Plato’s Phaedrus

Socrates ended his first speech on love with the words: ‘As wolf loves lambs (hȏs lukoi arnas agapȏsin), so is lover’s attention to the boy (hȏs arnas philousin erastai).’ After describing the lover’s noxious attentions to the boy, Socrates was to narrate the benefits the non-lover would bestow on the boy if he gave his favours rather to him than to the lover. Instead, he said to Phaedrus ‘Not a word more shall you have from me (Ouket’ an to pera akousais emou legontos); let that be the end of my discourse (all’ ȇdȇ soi telos echetȏ ho logos, 241d1-3)’, and was leaving. Phaedrus begged him to stay and discuss all that was said. Socrates stopped, turned around and said: ‘You’ve a superhuman capacity when it comes to speeches (Theios g’ ei peri tous logous), Phaedrus (ȏ Phaidre); you’re simply amazing (kai atechnȏs thaumasios). Of the speeches which there have been during your lifetime, I think (oimai gar egȏ tȏn epi tou sou biou gegonotȏn logȏn) that no one has brought more into existence than you (mȇdena pleious ȇ se pepoiȇkenai gegenȇsthai), either by making them yourself (ȇtoi auton legonta) or by forcing others to make them, in one way or another (ȇ allous heni ge tȏi tropȏi prosanankazonta). Simmias the Theban is the one exception (Simmian Thȇbaion exairȏ logou); the rest you beat by a long way (tȏn de allȏn pampolu krateis). Just so, now (kai nun au), you seem to me to have become the cause of my making a speech (dokeis aitios moi gegenȇsthai logȏi tini rȇthȇnai).’ (242a7-b5, tr. C.J. Rowe).

The words concerning Simmias are anachronistic. At the time of the dramatic staging of the dialogue – the Peace of Nicias, which was made in 421 B.C. – Simmias was a little boy.

How do we know that the dialogue was staged in the time of peace? It takes place outside the city walls (exȏ teichous). Phaedrus tells Socrates that he decided to go for a walk (pros peripaton, 227a3) after the whole morning spent with Lysias and his speech (logos) concerning love (erȏtikos). Socrates exclaims: ‘I am so eager to hear about it (egȏ oun houtȏs epitetumȇka akousai), that even if your walk takes you to Megara (hȏst’ ean badizȏn poiȇi ton peripaton Megarade), up to the walls (kai prosbas tȏi teichei) and back again (palin apiȇis), I won’t leave you (ou mȇ sou apoleiphthȏ, 227d3-5).’ – Something, which was unthinkable at the time when Plato wrote the dialogue, in 405 B.C. For in 413 Sparta occupied Decelea in Attica, and since then even the annual solemn procession to Eleusis for the celebration of the Eleusinian Mysteries had to be abandoned and replaced by a journey by sea.

Implicated in profaning the Eleusinian mysteries, Phaedrus was in exile since 415. This is thus the latest possible dramatic date for the Phaedrus.

How do we know that Simmias must have been just a boy at the time when the Phaedrus was dramatically staged? Simmias and Cebes, another Theban, are Socrates’ main interlocutors in the Phaedo. In the Phaedo we find Socrates’ friends deeply unhappy about Socrates’ impending death. In contrast, Socrates himself appeared to be happy (eudaimȏn ephaineto, 58e3), convinced as he was that his death was to open a new and better life for him. Simmias and Cebes asked Socrates to prove that the human soul was immortal. Socrates did his best, yet they found his proofs unsatisfactory. Phaedo, himself a young man, reflected on the uneasy silence that followed the objections of ‘those two youngsters’ (tȏn neaniskȏn, 89a3), and on Socrates’ response:

‘What I especially admired was, first, the pleasure, kindliness, and approval with which he received the young men’s argument (alla egȏge malista ethaumasa autou prȏton men touto, hȏs hȇdeȏs kai eumenȏs kai agamenȏs tȏn neaniskȏn ton logon apedexato); next his acuteness in perceiving how their speeches had affected us (epeita hȇmȏn hȏs oxeȏs ȇistheto ho ‘peponthamen hupo tȏn logȏn); and finally his success in treating us (epeita hȏs eu hȇmas iasato), rallying us as if we were fleeing in defeat (kai hȏsper pepheugotas  kai hȇttȇmenous), and encouraging us to follow him in examining the argument together (anekalesato kai proutrepsen pros to parepesthai te kai suskopein ton logon, 89a1-7, tr. David Gallop).

The Phaedo thus makes it quite certain that Socrates’ reference to Simmias in the Phaedrus was an anachronism. What the anachronism refers to, in my view, is the time Plato finished the dialogue. Simmias could come to Athens only after the unconditional surrender of the Athenians to the Spartans and their allies, with which the Peloponnesian war ended in 404 B.C.

That Simmias and Cebes became Socrates’ followers we learn from Xenophon. In the first book of the Memorabilia he says that Simmias and Cebes ‘consorted with Socrates (ekeinȏi sunȇsan) that they might become gentlemen (hina kaloi te k’agathoi genomenoi), and be able to do their duty by house and household, and relatives and friends, and city and citizens (kai oikȏi kai oiketais kai oikeiois kai philois kai polei kai politais dunainto kalȏs chrȇsthai (I.ii.48). In the third book Socrates asks Theodotȇ: ‘What is the reason (dia ti), do you suppose (oiei) that Apollodorus and Antisthenes (Apollodȏron te kai Antisthenȇn) never leave me (oudepote mou apoleipesthai;)? And why (dia ti de kai) do Cebes and Simmias (Kebȇta kai Simmian) come to me from Thebes (Thȇbȇthen paragignesthai)?’ (III.xi.17, translation from the Memorabilia E.C. Marchant).

On its own, Socrates’ anachronistic reference to Simmias in the Phaedrus, viewed as a pointer to the time when Plato accomplished the dialogue, leaves open the possibility that the dialogue could have been written any time from the moment the Peloponnesian war ended to the time when Socrates was indited of corrupting the youth of Athens and of introducing new deities. Yet I believe that he finished the dialogue shortly after the end of the war, which means that Simmias came to Athens as soon as it became possible, avid as he was to hear all that Socrates could tell him, and to hear all that those around Socrates could tell him about Socrates.

What makes me sure that Plato finished the Phaedrus shortly after the end of the Peloponnesian war is the Charmides, his second dialogue. Socrates’ main interlocutor in the Charmides is Critias, one of the Thirty, who were nominally appointed to draft new constitution kata ta patria, i.e. in accordance with the ancient patriarchal rule, but at once ceased full power. At the end of the dialogue Socrates bewails his inability to make a proper investigation; throughout the dialogue he did his best to discover what sȏphrosunȇ (‘self-control’, ‘self-knowledge’, ‘each person doing their own thing’) is, and failed. But Charmides waves Socrates’ ignorance aside – ‘I don’t really believe you at all’ – and expresses his wish to be instructed in sȏphrosunȇ by Socrates. Critias not only approved of his wish, he ordered Charmides to let himself be educated by Socrates. Charmides replies: ‘I’d be behaving terribly (deina gar an poioiȇn) if I didn’t obey you (ei mȇ peithoimȇn soi), my guardian (tȏi epitropȏi) and didn’t do (kai mȇ poioiȇn) what you tell me (ha keleueis).’ – Critias: ‘I’m telling you (Alla mȇn keleuȏ egȏge).’ – Charmides: ‘Well then, I’ll do it (Poiȇsȏ toinun), starting today (apo tautȇsi tȇs hȇmeras arxamenos)’ (176b9-c3).

The whole dialogue is narrated by Socrates, and the last couple of lines, which are of crucial importance for its dating, are best given as Socrates narrated them to his noble friend (ȏ hetaire ‘my friend’ 154b8, ȏ gennada ‘my noble friend’ 155d3):

‘What are you two plotting to do?’ I asked (Houtoi, ȇn d’ egȏ, ti bouleuesthon poiein;).

‘Nothing (Ouden),’ said Charmides (ephȇ ho Charmidȇs). ‘We’ve done our plotting (alla bebouleumetha).’

‘Are you going to resort to the use of force (Biasȇi ara), without even giving me a preliminary hearing in court?’ I asked (ȇn d’ egȏ, kai oud’ anakrisin moi dȏseis;)’.

‘I certainly am (Hȏs biasomenou),’ he replied (ephȇ), since Critias here orders me to (epeidȇper hode ge epitattei) – which is why you should plot what you’ll do (pros tauta su au bouleuou hoti poiȇseis).’

‘But there’s no time left for plotting,’ I said (All’ oudemia, ephȇn egȏ, leipetai boulȇ). ‘Once you’re intent on doing something (soi gar epicheirounti prattein hotioun) and are resorting to the use of force (kai biazomenȏi), no man alive will be able to resist you (oudeis hoios t’ estai enantiousthai antrȏpȏn).’

‘Well then (Mȇ toinun),’ he said (ȇ d’ hos), ‘don’t resist me either (mȇde su enantiou).’

‘I won’t,’ I said (Ou toinun, ȇn d’ egȏ, enantiȏsomai). (Translation Donald Watt).

As we know from Plato’s Apology, the Thirty summoned Socrates and four others to their office and ordered them to imprison a man and bring him to Athens for execution. Socrates disobeyed, as he said at his trial:

‘When the oligarchy came into power (epeidȇ oligarchia egeneto), the Thirty Commissioners summoned me and four others to the Round Chamber (hoi triakonta metapempsamenoi me pempton auton eis tȇn tholon) and ordered us to go and fetch Leon of Salamis for execution (prosetaxan agagein ek Salaminos Leonta ton Salaminion hina apothanoi) … Powerful as it was, that government did not terrify me into doing a wrong action (eme gar ekeinȇ hȇ archȇ ouk exeplȇxen, houtȏs ischura ousa, hȏste adikon ti ergasasthai); when we came out of the Round Chamber (all’ epeidȇ ek tȇs tholou exȇlthomen) the other four went off to Salamis (hoi men tessares ȏichonto eis Salamina) and arrested Leon (kai ȇgagon Leonta), and I went home (egȏ de ȏichomȇn apiȏn oikade).’ (32c4-d7, tr. Hugh Tredennick)

I cannot see how Plato could have written the closing lines of the Charmides after this incident.

The Phaedrus, Plato’s first dialogue, was in my view written and published in its totality before Plato conceived of writing the Charmides. What makes me think so? The second part of the Phaedrus is devoted to Plato’s outline of rhetoric, which was to derive its power from philosophy: Socrates maintains that unless Phaedrus ‘engages in philosophy sufficiently well’ (hikanȏs philosophȇsȇi) he will never be a sufficiently good speaker either about anything (oude hikanos pote legein estai peri oudenos, 261a4-5, tr. C.J. Rowe). Rhetoric was a powerful political tool in democracy, but there was no place for it in the oligarchy as Critias envisaged it. Xenophon says that when Critias became one of the Thirty and was drafting laws with Charicles, ‘he inserted a clause (en tois nomois egrapse) which made it illegal to teach the art of words’, i.e. to teach rhetoric (logȏn technȇn mȇ didaskein). Xenophon says that ‘it was a calculated insult to Socrates (epȇreazȏn ekeinȏi), whom he saw no other means of attacking (kai ouk echȏn hopȇi epilaboito), except by imputing to him the practice constantly attributed to philosophers by the many (alla to koinȇi tois philosophois hupo tȏn pollȏn epitimȏmenon epipherȏn autȏi, I.ii.31, tr. Marchant). Pace Xenophon, the Phaedrus gave Critias reason to believe that the law against rhetoric was going to hit Socrates. Xenophon says that Critias and Charicles ‘sent for Socrates (kalesante ton Sȏkratȇn), showed him the law (ton te nomon edeiknutȇn autȏi), and forbade him to hold conversation with the young (kai tois neois apeipetȇn mȇ dialegesthai, I.ii.33)’. Socrates asked them ‘to fix the age limit below which a man is to be accounted young’ (horisate moi mechri posȏn etȏn dei nomizein neous einai tous anthrȏpous). Charicles replied: ‘So long, as he is not permitted to sit in the Council (Hosouper chronou bouleuein ouk exestin), because as yet he lacks wisdom (hȏs oupȏ phronimois ousi). You shall not converse (mȇde su dialegou) with anyone who is under thirty (neȏterois triakonta etȏn, I.ii. 35, tr. Marchant).’

This meant that Socrates was forbidden from conversing with Plato, who was at that time approaching his mid-twenties. That the prohibition hurt both Socrates and Plato can be seen in the Lysis, which is in my view the first dialogue Plato wrote after the demise of the Thirty and the renewal of democracy. In the dialogue Socrates tells Lysis that it is not his youth that prevents him from doing many things he would like to do, but his lack of knowledge. Socrates asks: ‘Don’t you think that the Athenians will trust you with their affairs (Athȇnaious oiei soi ouk epitrepsein ta hautȏn), as soon as they realize (hotan aisthanȏntai) that you know enough (hoti hikanȏs phroneis;)?’ – Lysis replies: ‘I do (Egȏge).’ (Lysis 209d4-5).

***

I believe that Plato inserted his anachronic reference to Simmias into the prelude to Socrates’ second speech, his palinode, as a mark for himself. He did so in the spirit of the third part of the Phaedrus, in which he viewed writing as his preferred pastime: ‘laying up a store of reminders for himself (heautȏi hupomnȇmata thȇsaurizomenos), when he may reach the forgetful old age (eis to lȇthȇs gȇras ean hikȇtai, 276d3-4)’.

But when he in the Phaedo made the young Phaedo call Simmias and Cebes youngsters, he did so for readers removed in time and space from the days in which the dialogue was written and published. As he grew old, it became important for him that his readers were aware that the Phaedrus was his first dialogue. In the Laws, the work of his old age, which was published after his death, he wrote: ‘Truth is the beginning of every good thing, both to Gods and to men (alȇtheia dȇ pantȏn men agathȏn theois hȇgeitai, pantȏn de anthrȏpois); and he who would be blessed and happy, should be from the first a partaker of truth (hȇs ho genȇsesthai mellȏn makarios te kai eudaimȏn ex archȇs euthus metochos eiȇ), that he may live a true man as long as possible (hina hȏs pleiston chronon alȇthȇs diabioi), for then he can be trusted (pistos gar, 730c1-4, tr. B. Jowett).’ It was the Phaedran Palinode in which Plato presented his readers with the truth (tȇn alȇtheian, 249b6), the true being (to on ontȏs, 249c4), which consists of things to which the philosopher is always as close as possible (pros gar ekeinois aei estin kata dunamin), ‘those things his closeness to which gives a god his divinity’ (pros hoisper theos ȏn theios estin, 249c5-6, tr. C.J. Rowe).


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