Plato says in the Seventh Letter
that in his youth, as many other men, he wished to embark on a political career
(epi ta koina tȇs poleȏs ienai) as soon as he became his own master
(ei thatton emautou genoimȇn kurios). He could enter into public life when he became twenty, and from what
he says it becomes clear that his desire to do politics was the strongest in the
two or four last years of democracy – ‘two’ if he was born in 427 B.C. (Diog.
Laert. III.2), four if he was born in 429 B.C. (Diog. Laert. III.3).
***
Democracy was overturned by
oligarchic revolution in 404 B.C., after the defeat of Athens in the
Peloponnesian war. When the oligarchs took power, Plato’s friends and relatives
among their leading men invited him at once to join the administration as
something to which he ‘had a claim’ (hȏs epi prosȇkonta pragmata). But he waited, ‘watching them very closely what they would do’ (autois
sphodra proseichon ton noun, ti praxoien). And when he saw that they began
to commit evil, ‘I was indignant (eduscherana te)’, he says, ‘and
withdrew myself (kai emauton epanȇgagon) from the evil practices then going
on (apo tȏn tote kakȏn)’. When in the end of 404/beginning
of 403 the democrats defeated the oligarchs ‘then once more (palin de)’,
he says, ‘though less urgently (braduteron men), I was impelled
with a desire to take part in public and political affairs’ (heilken de me
homȏs hȇ peri to prattein ta koina kai politika epithumia). (S.L. 324b8-325b1)
***
Plato’s desire to do politics was no
secret, and a lot was expected of him. And if he was inflamed with a desire to
do politics without attempting to actually do so, this was presumably owing to
his attachment to Socrates. This transpires in Aristophanes’ Frogs, where
the chorus expresses delight at Aeschylus’ return from the underworld: ‘It is
pleasant (charien oun) not to sit around Socrates, babbling (mȇ Sȏkratei
parakathȇmenon lalein), having thrown away art (apobalonta mousikȇn) and abandoned what is the greatest,
the art of tragedy (ta te megista paraliponta tȇs tragȏidikȇs technȇs, 1491-5).’
***
The story of Plato throwing his
tragedies into fire after listening to Socrates’ discussion on philosophy must
have been widely known (cf. Diog. Laert. III.5, Arist. Met. 987b1-8),
for only on that basis could Aristophanes refer to it in his culminating choric
song in the Frogs.
***
The chorus continued: ‘To seek august
quibbles and speak chippings of nonsense, in which nothing is done
(to d’ epi semnoisi logoisi kai skariphȇsmoisi lȇrȏn diatribȇn argon poieisthai), befits an insane man (parapohronountos
andros, 1496-9)’.
***
Those who expected that Plato would
not leave Aristophanes’ gibes unanswered weren’t disappointed. In the Phaedrus
he found a way of responding to them both in Socrates’ and in his own name. In
his own name as the writer, in Socrates’ name by making Socrates the narrator
and the main actor in the dialogue; Phaedrus plays a minor, though essential,
role as Socrates’ interlocutor. In the dialogue Plato gives Socrates a strong
voice within the framework of Socrates' philosophic ignorance, which allows Plato to
present his own thoughts in the dialogue – in the Palinode, in the discussion
of rhetoric – as the source of inspiration that overpowers Socrates. After listening
to Lysias’ speech, which Phaedrus read to him, Socrates says: ‘There is
something welling up within my breast, which makes me feel that I could find
something different, and something better, to say (plȇres pȏs to stȇthos echȏn aisthanomai
para tauta an echein eipein
hetera mȇ cheirȏ). I am of course well aware it can’t be anything originating in my own
mind (hoti men oun para ge emautou ouden autȏn enenoȇka, eu oida) for I know my own ignorance (suneidȏs emautȏi amathian, 235c5-8).’
Concerning the gibe of having thrown away
art (apobalonta mousikȇn), the Phaedrus with its exquisite Palinode (Socrates’ second
speech on love) provides the best answer. In addition, Plato answers it with a
myth of the cicadas, who after their death ‘announce to Calliope, the eldest,
and to Ourania who comes after, those who spend their time in philosophy and
honour the art that belongs to them (tȇi presbutatȇi Kalliopȇi kai tȇi met’ autȇn Ouraniai tous en philosophiai diagontas te kai timȏntas tȇn ekeinȏn mousikȇn angellousin). For they, most of all the Muses (hai dȇ malista tȏn Mousȏn), have as their sphere both the
heavens and discourse both divine and human (peri te ouranon kai logous
ousai theious te kai anthrȏpinous), and whose song is the most beautiful (hiasin kallistȇn phȏnȇn).’ (259b6-d7) Presenting philosophy
as the most beautiful art (mousikȇ), Plato was in full agreement with Socrates, for we learn from the Phaedo
that Socrates believed ‘philosophy to be the greatest of the arts’ (philosophias
men ousȇs megistȇs mousikȇs), and that he was practising it (emou de touto prattontos,
61a3-4).
The discussion that Socrates and Phaedrus undertook in the midday heat is devoted to Plato’s view that without philosophy, seen as the knowledge of truth, there can be no
rhetoric worthy of being called technȇ, (‘art’,
Hackforth, ’science’ Rowe). – Socrates tells Phaedrus at 261a4-5 ‘that unless
he engages in philosophy sufficiently well (hȏs ean mȇ hikanȏs philosophȇsȇi),
he will never be a sufficiently good speaker either (oude hikanos pote
legein estai) about anything (peri oudenos, tr. C.J. Rowe)’. – And
since in democracy rhetoric, used in public assemblies, and politics, were one
and the same thing, without philosophy there was no politics worthy of being
called technȇ.
The Phaedrus can be seen as Plato’s answer to the expectations concerning his entry into
the political arena. I am saying ‘the Phaedrus’, and not just its second
part devoted to Plato’s revision of rhetoric, for Plato entered the political
arena with the opening lines of the dialogue. Socrates opened it with the
words: ‘My dear Phaedrus (Ō phile Phaidre), where is it you’re going (poi
dȇ), and where have you come from (kai pothen;)? – When Plato wrote
the Phaedrus, in 405 B.C., Phaedrus was in exile. Presenting him in the
dialogue as Socrates’ dear friend, Plato made it clear that he viewed the
return of the emigrants as a political imperative.
Phaedrus replied: ‘From Lysias, son of
Cephalus, Socrates; and I’m going for a walk outside the wall … I’m doing what
your friend and mine, Acumenus, advises, and taking my walks along the country
roads; he says that walking here is more refreshing than in the colonnades.’ In
405 B.C., the citizens of Athens could only dream of refreshing themselves by
walking along the country roads. It became impossible ever since Sparta
occupied Decelea in Attica as its permanent base in 413 B.C. Making peace with
Sparta was the most pressing political task of the day.
Let’s see these political aspects of the Phaedrus
through the prism of the song of the chorus in Aristophanes’ comedy, the Frogs.
The jibes
directed against Socrates and his disciple – the disciple in whose name the
chorus sings ‘It is pleasant (charien oun) not to sit around Socrates,
babbling (mȇ Sȏkratei parakathȇmenon lalein)’ – form the antistrophe of the
choric song, which cannot be fully understood without the strophe, in which
Aeschylus is praised, 1482-1490:
‘Blest the
man who possesses a
Makarios
g’ anȇr echȏn
Keen
intelligent mind
xunesin ȇkribȏmenȇn
This we may
learn by many an example
para de
polloisin mathein
He, having proved to be well disposed
hode gar eu phronein dokȇsas
Returns to his home
palin apeisin oikad’ au
For the good of the citizens
ep’ agathȏi men tois politais
For the good of his
ep’ agathȏi de tois heautou
Relatives and friends
xungenesi te kai philoisi
Because of his keen intelligent mind.
dia to
sunetos einai
Within the
comedy, the meaning is clear. It is only because Aeschylus has proved himself
to be a man with keen intelligent mind, well disposed towards his
citizens, he is now returning home for the good of his fellow citizens; because
he has keen intelligent mind. But the purpose of Aristophanes’ Frogs
transcends the framework of comedy. Aeschylus does not return to write
tragedies. He returns home to make and ensure peace with Sparta. This becomes
clear from the choric song with which the comedy ends, 1528-1533:
First, as
the poet triumphant is passing away to the light,
Grant him
success on his journey, ye powers that are ruling below.
prȏta men euodian agathȇn apionti poiȇtȇi
es phaos
ornumenȏi dote, daimones hoi kata gaias,
Grant that
he find for the city good counsels to guide her aright;
tȇi te polei megalȏn agathȏn agathas epinoias.
So we at
last shall be freed from the anguish, the fear, and the woe,
Freed from
the onset of war. Let Cleophon and his band
Battle, if
battle they must, far away in their own fatherland.
pangchu
gar ek megalȏn acheȏn pausaimeth’ an houtȏs
argaleȏn en hoplois sunodȏn. Kleophȏn de machesthȏ
k’allos
ho boulomenos toutȏn patriois en arourais.
This closing
chorus is translated by B.B. Rogers. In translating the previous chorus’ song I
could use just snippets from Roger’s translation; in my view, he misunderstood
it. In the accompanying remark he says: ‘During the absence of Pluto and his
guests, the Chorus sing an airy little strophe and antistrophe, each consisting
of nine trochaic lines; the strophe in praise of Aeschylus, the antistrophe in
deprecation of Euripides.’
On reading
Rogers’ remark, one might expect the Chorus to praise Aeschylus as a good
writer of tragedies in the strophe, in contrast to Euripides deprecated as a
bad tragedian in the antistrophe. In his translation he did his best to present
the chorus' praise of Aeschylus in this way. Chorus’ line hode gar eu
phronein dokȇsas, which means ‘He, having proved to be well disposed’ Rogers
translates ‘He, the bard of renown’. In this line the Chorus does not praise
Aeschylus as ‘the bard of renown’, but glorifies him as a man well disposed to his
city. This is why, in the next line, ‘He returns home
again’ (palin apeisin oikad’ au).
Translating this line ‘Now to earth reascends’
Rogers missed the point. Even in the Underworld Aeschylus thought of Athens as
his home.
Next, the
Chorus explains: Aeschylus is returning home ‘For the good of the citizens’ (ep’
agathȏi men tois politais). Rogers translates: ‘Goes, a joy to his town’. But
Aeschylus is not returning to Athens to bring joy; the advise, which he is
giving the Athenians, is to bring them hardship and pain, for only through
hardship and pain directed for the good of the city could Athens be saved.
Let me
elaborate. At 1435-6 Dionysus asks the two contestants: ‘But once again. Let
each in turn declare (all’ eti mian gnȏmȇn hekateros eipaton) What plan for saving the city you’ve got (peri tȇs poleȏs hȇntin’ echeton sȏtȇrian).’
Euripides
advises (1446-1450): ‘If we mistrust those citizens of ours Whom now we trust,
and those employ whom now We don’t employ, the city will be saved (ei tȏn politȏn hoisi nun pisteuomen, toutois apistȇsaimen, hois d’ ou chrȏmetha, toutoisi chrȇsaimestha, sȏtheiȇmen an). If on our present tack we fail, we surely Shall find salvation in the
opposite course (ei nun ge dustuchoumen en toutoisi, pȏs t’ananti’ an prattontes ou sȏzoimeth’ an;).’ Euripides has a point, but he is not giving any thought
to how his advice could be achieved, enamoured as he is with his jingling
phrases: pisteuomen/ apistȇsaimen, ou chrȏmetha/ chrȇsaimestha, sȏtheiȇmen an/ ou sȏzoimeth’ an.
Aeschylus
advises (1463-5): 'When they shall count the enemy’s soil their own, And theirs
the enemy’s: when they know that ships Are their true wealth, their so called
wealth delusion (tȇn gȇn hotan nomisȏsi tȇn tȏn polemiȏn einai spheteran, tȇn de spheteran tȏn polemiȏn, poron de tas naus, aporian de ton poron)'.
Rogers
comments: ‘It is, as the Scholiast observes, the counsel which was given by
Pericles at the commencement of the war (Thuc. i. 140-144) … They are to
consider their fleet to be their real wealth; and mere money stores, not
expended on their fleet, to be unworthy of the name of wealth.’
But back to
the chorus song; it is followed by Pluto’s farewell speech to Aeschylus:
‘Farewell
then, Aeschylus, great and wise (age dȇ chairȏn, Aishyle, chȏrei), Go, save our state by maxims rare Of thy noble
thought; and the fools chastise, For many a fool dwells there (kai sȏdze polin tȇn hȇmeteran gnȏmais agathais, kai paideuson tous anoȇtousˑ polloi d’ eisin).’ (1500-15003, tr. Rogers). Rogers notes on
line 1501: ‘In this last solemn scene – for a solemn scene it is, although it
occurs in comedy – Pluto, as Dr Merry observes, is paying a compliment to
Athens, by identifying himself with her citizens.’
Pluto, the Lord of the Underworld,
continues: ‘And this to Cleophon give, my friend (kai dos touti
Kleophȏnti pherȏn), And this to the revenue-raising crew (kai touti
toisi poristais), Nicomachus, Myrmex (Murmȇki th’ homou kai
Nikomachȏ).’ As Rogers notes, with approval, the Scholiast conjectured that
Pluto gives Aeschylus three halters, for the three to hang themselves. That
they are to end their lives, with whatever Pluto gave Aeschylus, is clear from
what Pluto says next:
‘And bid them that without delay, To
my realm of the dead they hasten away (kai phraz’ autois tacheȏs hȇkein hȏs
eme deuri kai mȇ mellein). For if they loiter above, I swear I’ll come
myself and arrest them there. And branded and fettered the slaves shall go With
the vilest rascal in all the town, Adeimantus, son of Leucolophus, down,
Down, down to the darkness below (k’an mȇ tacheȏs hȇkȏsin, egȏ nȇ ton Apollȏ
stixas autous kai sumpodisas met’ Adeimantou tou Leukolophou kata gȇs tacheȏs
apopempsȏ).
Rogers notes: ‘What induced the poet
to include Adeimantus in his list of reprobates, we cannot tell: but that he
had good reason for doing so may be inferred from the fact that this Adeimantus
is the Athenian commander who was credited with having, a few months later, on
the fatal day of Aegospotami, betrayed to Lysander the entire Athenian fleet.’
As can be seen, Pluto is sending
Aeschylus to Athens not as a bard who is to write tragedies, but as a man who
is to save Athens with his good advice. He thus reinforces the political
aspects of the chorus’ praise of Aeschylus.
Let me now turn to chorus’ song that
Rogers views as ‘the antistrophe in depreciation of Euripides’. There is no
mentioning of Euripides in the antistrophe; the basis for his interpretation he
presumably found in lines 1494-5: ta te megista paraliponta tȇs tragȏidikȇs technȇs, which he translates: ‘Stripping tragedy-art of All
things noble and true’. Presumably, he viewed this line as a recapitulation of Aeschylus’
criticism of Euripides. So let us see how is Euripides presented within the
framework of the contest, and then consider, whether ta te megista
paraliponta tȇs tragȏidikȇs technȇs
can be seen as the chorus’ criticism of him.
Euripides presents
himself and his tragedies as follows:
‘From the
very opening lines no idleness was shown
apo tȏn prȏtȏn epȏn
ouden parȇk’ an argon;
The mistress
talked with all her might, the servant talked as much
The master
talked, the maiden talked, the beldame talked.’ – Aeschylus: ‘For such
An outrage
was not death your due?’ – Eur. ‘No, by Apollo, no:
That was my
democratic way. – Dionysos: ‘Ah, let that topic go.
Your record
is not there, my friend, particularly good.’
all’ elegen hȇ te gunȇ te moi ch’ȏ doulos ouden hȇtton,
ch’ȏ despotȇs ch’ȇ Parthenos chȇ graus an. – Ais. Eita dȇta
ouk
apothanein se taut’ echrȇn tolmȏnta; - Eu: ma ton Apollȏˑ
dȇmokratikon gar
aut’ edrȏn. – Dionysos: touto
men eason, ȏ tan.
ou soi gar esti
peripatein kallista peri ge toutou.
(948-
Rogers notes: ‘Dionysus is of course
referring generally to the antidemocratical tendencies of the school to which
Euripides belonged … Euripides himself, as Hermann observes, had left
democratic Athens, and spent his last years at the Court of King Archelaus of
Macedon.
As can be seen, on what Euripides
prided himself was targeted by Aeschylus as the ground for his censure. And
even Dionysus found that Euripides’ self-praise deserved criticism. But
although both of them found Euripides worthy of criticism, neither accused him
of ‘having thrown away art’ (apobalonta mousikȇn, 1493).
Rogers leaves 'having thrown away art’ (apobalonta mousikȇn) untranslated;
thus, and only thus, can he view the following line – ta te megista paraliponta tȇs tragȏidikȇs technȇs
– as the basis for his
interpretation of the antistrophe as directed against Euripides. But this is
not the only defect in his translation of this line. The verb paraliponta
‘having abandoned’ is in the aorist, in agreement with the introductory
apobalonta ‘having thrown away’; it thus refers to the activities described
by these verbs as something that preceded ‘sitting by Socrates in empty talk’ (Sȏkratei parakathȇmenon lalein). Rogers’ translation of paraliponta
by the participle ‘stripping’ makes ta te megista paraliponta tȇs tragȏidikȇs technȇs into something that was going on within the framework
of ‘by Socrates sitting’ (Sȏkratei parakathȇmenon).
To make this
point clearer, let me bring in Rogers’ translation of the first half of the
antistrophe:
Right it is
and befitting,
Not, by
Socrates sitting,
Idle talk to
pursue,
charien
oun mȇ Sȏkratei
parakathȇmenon lalein,
Stripping
tragedy-art of
All things
noble and true.
apobalonta
mousikȇn [left untranslated],
ta te
megista paraliponta
tȇs tragȏidikȇs technȇs.
Trying to
see these lines as ‘deprecation of Euripides’, we must envisage that before
Aeschylus ‘reascended to earth’, Euripides, or his acolyte, was ‘by Socrates
sitting, stripping tragedy-art of all things noble and true’. Supposedly, from
now on he will write tragedies that won’t be stripped ‘of all things noble and
true’. But Aristophanes did not envisage any such possibility, for among the
young tragedians he saw no one of any promise (see l. 72, where Dionysus
complains that ‘there are no good tragedians any more hoi men gar ouket eisi,
and those that are, are bad hoi d’ ontes kakoi.’).
I see the
chorus’ song as part of Aristophanes’ patriotic exhortations with which the Frogs
end. Aeschylus’ Periclean advice can save Athens. Because of it, Aeschylus is
returning home. But if it is to work, Aeschylus must guide the city towards
peace. This can happen in the Frogs, not in real life, but the Frogs
is gesturing towards real life. Aristophanes hopes that a man can be found who will
save the city with his keen intelligent mind. That’s what the strophe is all
about; to awaken that man to the great expectations with which the Athenians
look forward to his entry into politics. Aristophanes points to where this man
is to be found; he is one of those who are sitting around Socrates. Who but
Plato from among them could it be?
Plato must
shake Socrates off, becoming fully aware of his powers and of his destiny. This
is what the song of the chorus, the strophe and antistrophe, is all about.
