Plato
Page 15
This dialogue is finally laid to rest with Socrates’ dismissal of evil as a possible element of friendship and, instead, focusing on desire as the cause of friendship. But a desire for what (if not bad desiring good as in disease desiring medicine)? Socrates asserts that you can only desire what you do not already have (remember a truly good person would not desire another truly good person because he already has goodness) and, therefore, he concludes that, ‘the object of passionate love, friendship and desire is, in fact, it seems, what is akin.’ (221e).
Now, in the hope that the reader has been following this argument, you may seem a little puzzled here, for isn’t ‘akin’ the same as ‘alike’, and hasn’t Socrates ruled that out as a possibility? Socrates is fully aware of this and is about to enter into further dialogue in an attempt to determine how ‘akin’ differs from ‘alike’, when Lysis and Menexenus are dragged away by their tutors and Socrates is left alone lamenting that he had found new young friends, yet was unable to determine what friendship actually was. For the reader, too, we are left alone, not knowing what friendship is either, although with the possibility that ‘kinship’ is a kind of natural attraction between two people, but what this actually entails is left afloat. What we are left with is that friendship is based upon desire, but we do not know why we desire it. It remains a mystery!
Despite the complexity of the arguments on this dialogue, and the unsatisfactory nature of the elenchus here, Lysis still has much to offer a careful and considerate reader, and for different reasons. At one level, perhaps the more ‘literary’ one, it does feel that you are unveiling a slice of life here, peering through the keyhole of a moment frozen in time with characters who display such human characteristics of youthfulness, uncertainty, bashfulness, love, friendship, desire, identity problems and old age. At the ‘philosophical’ level, questions concerning the extent we can truly know such abstract notions as ‘friendship’, ‘love’ and so on, divorced from the particular time and place, is a key problem that preoccupies so much of the Socratic corpus. Also, of course, the question of what is friendship and the reason why and how we form friendships and fall in love are both psychological and philosophical concerns.
What is perhaps most intriguing about this dialogue is the ending which, in some ways, has a sadness to it, for Socrates seems himself to desire friendship, yet surely a good and wise man such as he would not, by his own definition, be in need of the friendship of others, for what can they offer him? Perhaps this is one reason why Socrates always denied he was wise at all, and that it is only through companionship with others that one can gain wisdom; that is, others can give you what you do not have yourself. Remember, also, that this is a clear example of an aporetic dialogue (see Chapter 3): Socrates concludes in a state of uncertainty and it is deliberately left to the reader to take the dialogue further. Like a good teacher, the question is left open for the student to explore, rather than simply give the ‘answer’.
Phaedrus
Brief reference was made to Plato’s dialogue Phaedrus in Chapter 5 when talking about the soul. Phaedrus does not cover such a variety of topics as Republic does, and so is often ignored in terms of school and university curriculums, but this is a great shame as it stands out for other reasons. This dialogue is stylistically one of Plato’s finest works and can be appreciated exclusively as a work of great literary worth. Its main themes are on love and the nature and limitations of rhetoric. It is interesting that these two themes have been combined in the one work, and it provides a link with Gorgias (see Chapter 10), which is concerned with rhetoric, and with Symposium (see Chapter 9), which is concerned with love.
This dialogue contains three philosophical speeches on love, which still makes the work very topical, for human nature’s attitude towards love does not differ today from the time of the Ancient Greeks, and so this work speaks to us across these ages perhaps more effectively than, say, politics or epistemology.
There are only two characters in this dialogue, Socrates and Phaedrus. The dialogue is set at around 418–416 BC, which would put Socrates in his fifties, and Phaedrus in his twenties. Phaedrus is an enthusiast for rhetoric and so is concerned here with words or, more particularly, what is said in a particular speech. While they take a private stroll along the side of the river Ilisus (which, at the time of Plato, ran outside the defensive walls of Athens) the young and handsome Phaedrus was impressed by a speech of seduction by someone of similar age called Lysias (not to be confused with Lysis!). Phaedrus recounts the speech to Socrates. The latter notes that Phaedrus, who has spent the morning in the company of Lysias, has that very speech hidden in embarrassment under his cloak and he asks him to read it out loud to him.
THE FIRST SPEECH
This first of the three speeches of the dialogue, then, is arguing for a somewhat cynical view of pederasty that is divorced entirely from love, for love – or Eros – is a disruptive force that causes the older man in the relationship to behave in an irrational manner, whereas a relationship based on sex that is divorced from love is much more productive and beneficial to both parties in that it provides sexual pleasure for the older man and a better education for the younger. By saying that love is a form of madness, Lysias is arguing that relationships between non-lovers (involving sex entirely divorced from love) is better because it is independent of emotions.
The speech that Lysias utters is also an entreaty for Phaedrus to have sex with him for the very reason that he does not love him (or, perhaps, claims not to love him). What Lysias is essentially arguing for is that love is a desire that corrupts both the lover and the beloved because it is purely selfish. By equating love with desire it is perceived as wanting to possess the other and in which the appetites take over so much that one’s moral sense and self-control are subsumed by this passion. This argument might strike the reader as somewhat confused, for surely love, in the pure sense, is more spiritual than sexual desire, but it is for this reason that the young Phaedrus, naively impressed by this speech, is also confused and wants to know what love is. Also, Phaedrus’ confusion is not helped by the fact that it is not a particularly good speech, either in a literary sense or in a philosophical sense, for his terms have not been clearly defined and nor is it well-structured or logically progressive. Socrates, of course, is quick to point this out to Phaedrus:
‘…I didn’t think even Lysias himself thought the speech adequate; and in fact he seemed to me, Phaedrus, unless you say otherwise, to have said the same things two or three times over, as if he wasn’t altogether well off when it came to saying so many things about the same subject, or else perhaps because he didn’t care at all about this sort of thing; indeed he seemed to me to be behaving with a youthful swagger, showing off his ability to say the same things now in this way and now in that…’
Plato, Phaedrus, 235a
The above quote demonstrates not only Socrates’ criticism of the content, but also of the actual structure of the speech, hence the concern with logos (in this sense, ‘speech’, ‘discourse’, etc.). Now Socrates tells Phaedrus that he could provide him with a much better speech than the one given by Lysias.
THE SECOND SPEECH
In terms of form, Socrates’ second (and, indeed, his third) speech is set out as an example of expert logos-making by starting off with a definition of the subject of love; something that Lysias’ speech failed to do.
‘So let us, you and I, avoid having happen to us what we find fault with in others: since the discussion before you and me is whether one should rather enter into friendship with lover or with non-lover, let us establish an agreed definition of love, about what sort of thing it is and what power it possesses, and look to this as our point of reference while we make our enquiry as to whether it brings help or harm’.
Plato, Phaedrus, 237d
This speech certainly improves upon Lysias’ from the perspective of defining love, but also in terms of its overall logical structure. Despite this, Socrates does not seem to differ in his vi
ew of what love is from that of Lysias. He begins his speech by telling a story about a man who is in love with a boy, but he seems to largely agree with Lysias that love does indeed lead to such negative emotions as jealousy. However, in his third speech, Socrates wants to argue that this should not be a reason to have a relationship that is purely sexual, i.e. a relationship between non-lovers. On the contrary; love is important in this kind of relationship. Socrates says that if love is (or should be) nothing more than desire, according to Lysias’ view, then you should never fall in love.
THE THIRD SPEECH
Why the need for a third speech? Socrates is simply not satisfied with what he has said so far:
‘… the madness of love we said was best, and by expressing the experience of love through some kind of simile, which allowed us perhaps to grasp some truth, though maybe also it took us in a wrong direction, and mixing together a not wholly implausible speech, we sang a playful hymn in the form of a story…’
Plato, Phaedrus, 265b5-c1
In other words, Socrates believes there is more to be said, although he does not specify in what way his second speech ‘took us in a wrong direction’. However, there may well be another point being made here, and this is about rhetoric and its limitations. Socrates, remember, values the cut and thrust of conversation, and he is often critical of the written form which he says is too limited and ‘definite’. Whereas conversation is by its nature in a state of flux, progression and so on, a speech is formalized and a monologue does not allow for questioning. Socrates is a hesitant speech-maker and, in his second speech, insists on speaking with a hood over his head to hide his shame for engaging in such a form. Essentially, then, the philosopher should always be dissatisfied with speeches, no matter how ‘good’ they may seem. It is ‘good’ because it is structured and even poetic, but it is also very limited in terms of being able to ‘grasp’ the truth because it lacks the dialectical process.
‘… I think writing has this strange feature, which makes it truly like painting. The offspring of painting stand there as if alive, but if you ask them something, they preserve a quite solemn silence. Similarly with written words: you might think that they spoke as if they had some thought in their heads, but if you ever ask them about any of the things they say out of a desire to learn, they point to just one thing, the same each time.’
Plato, Phaedrus, 275d
After his second speech, Socrates is eager to finish there and return to the centre of Athens (where he can more comfortably engage in philosophical dialogue) but he is persuaded to stay and explain himself more fully. So Socrates gives another speech in which he sets out to avoid poetic distraction, simile and so on, and to do what a really good speech should do: tell the truth.
Could Socrates read?
In Ancient Athens very few could read and write and it has raised the possibility that Socrates himself was illiterate.
While the second speech is somewhat negative, Socrates now argues that such ‘madness’ of love is a good thing nonetheless. Not all madness is evil, but it is what takes place when the gods inspire humans. For example, prophecy or lyric poetry is often regarded as a kind of madness (how many prophets have been considered mad?), yet this comes from the gods. Remember, also, the cave analogy and how the prisoner returning to the bottom of the cave is regarded as mad by the other prisoners, even though he utters what is true! In this respect, given that the cave analogy is really a reference to Socrates, then Socrates is ‘mad’, for he is a poet in a sense, and a lover, not only of wisdom, but of his fellow Athenians; yet our ‘mad Socrates’ is nonetheless wiser for this madness and a paradigm for a kind of human being. Love is one kind of madness, but this is a good thing for it makes you a better person; it is good for your soul – as well as those who you love – for it also brings you closer to the gods and makes you god-like.
At this point Socrates provides us with his wonderful chariot analogy (see Chapter 5) to argue that it is through love that we can enter the soul-world and perceive a memory of perfect beauty that we saw in an earlier life, before the soul became trapped in the physical world. This is a very different view of love from that presented by Lysias; no longer purely physical pleasure, but a spiritually uplifting experience for both the lover and the beloved that allows both to partake in the divine and to perfect the soul. If anything, physical pleasure gets in the way of the perfection of the soul if it is regarded as merely physical, independent of love. Pure love, which combines the physical and the spiritual, provides a bridge between heaven and earth.
‘… the madness of the man who, on seeing beauty here on earth, and being reminded of true beauty, becomes winged and, fluttering with eagerness to fly upwards like a bird, and taking no heed of the things below, causes him to be regarded as mad: the outcome is that this in fact reveals itself as the best of all kinds of divine possession and from the best sources for the man who is subject to it and shares in it, and that is when he partakes in this madness that the man who loves the beautiful is called a lover.’
Plato, Phaedrus, 249d4-e1
Socrates then comes back to what makes a good speech. Socrates states that his speech tells the truth, which is best for the individual and, for that matter, for society as a whole. The best kind of speech, therefore, should behave like a conversation by containing dialectic with opposites that juxtapose and mesh together in synthesis. The speech essentially becomes lyrical poetry, becomes a work of art in itself like a Bach concerto.
Key terms
Erastes: Greek for ‘lover’. The more proactive, dominant and older partner in the relationship.
Eromenos: Greek for ‘beloved’. The younger, subordinate and passive partner in the relationship.
Pederasty: A term to describe a relationship between an adult male and a pubescent or adolescent male, from the Greek paiderastia (‘love of boys’).
Dig deeper
Davidson, J. (2008), The Greeks and Greek Love: A Radical Reappraisal of Homosexuality in Ancient Greece. London: Phoenix.
Dover, K. J. (1989), Greek Homosexuality. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press.
Lear, A. & Cantarella, E. (2009), Images of Ancient Greek Pederasty: Boys Were Their Gods. Oxford: Routledge.
Waterfield, R. (trans.) (2005), Plato: Meno and Other Dialogues. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Waterfield, R. (trans.) (2002), Plato: Phaedrus. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Fact check
1 Which one of the following is Greek for ‘lover’?
a Pais
b Eromenos
c Paiderastia
d Erastes
2 Which one of the following is Greek for ‘beloved’?
a Erastes
b Eromenos
c Paiderastia
d Pais
3 In the dialogue Lysis, who is in love with the character of the title?
a Ctesippus
b Hippothales
c Socrates
d Menexenus
4 Where does Socrates meet Lysis?
a The gymnasium
b The palaestra
c The agora
d The symposium
5 In the dialogue Lysis, Socrates states there are three categories of things: good things, bad things and things that are neither good nor bad. What analogy does Socrates use to demonstrate this?
a Medicine
b Carpentry
c Politics
d Baking
6 In the dialogue Phaedrus, what is the name of the person who writes a speech declaring his love for the character of the title?
a Lysis
b Ctesippus
c Socrates
d Lysias
7 How many speeches are presented in Phaedrus?
a Three
b Four
c Five
d Six
8 What, according to Socrates, should a really good speech do?
a Deceive
b Confuse
c Tell the truth
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d Raise the spirits
9 What is pederasty?
a Same-sex love
b Love between humans and gods
c Love between free men and slaves
d Love between husband and wife
10 What is the Myth of Ganymede?
a When Ganymede is lost in a labyrinth
b When Ganymede has an invisible ring
c When Ganymede is abducted by Zeus
d When Ganymede is given a riddle to solve
9
In praise of love: Symposium
In the last chapter we looked at the topic of love and friendship through two of Plato’s dialogues: Lysis and Phaedrus. The main theme of Symposium, which is usually considered one of Plato’s middle-period dialogues, is also love, and it takes place at a banquet in honour of Agathon, who is a young and extremely handsome tragedian poet and has just won first prize at a religious festival for one of his compositions. The date of this event was early 416 BC. Socrates, who seems to have made more of an effort than usual to make himself presentable, is, of course, present for this drinking party.
The setting
The Symposium
A symposium should not be compared to, say, going for a drink down the pub, or even a dinner party at home or in a restaurant. The Greeks liked to converse with the good-looking and the great-minded, but, behind the closed doors of the symposia, this was not done in a very informal or relaxed manner. The male, and only male, guests reclined on benches (although the younger, yet to prove their full worth, had to sit up straight). They would dress up, wearing wreaths. There was food and wine, as well as entertainment which could include music and dancing. Slaves would prepare food such as pastries, fried fish, and lentil soup.