Requiem For Athens

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Requiem For Athens Page 7

by David Alkek


  It had long been the tradition of Greek men to marry in their late twenties or early thirties to teenage females. Marriage was for having families and maintaining society. This tradition, as well as sexual morality in general had been declining for many years.

  More and more men imitated the actions of Meletus and Phidias, living unmarried with women. Some merely lived together without the rituals of marriage; others like Phidias kept a hetaira; while some married men had concubines.

  It was even the subject of a popular play by Aristophanes. He had one of his characters say, “Is not a concubine more desirable than a wife? The one has on her side the law that compels you to retain her, no matter how displeasing she may be; the other knows that she must hold a man by behaving well, or else look for another.”

  So Phidias had no moral qualms about living with Thais. It was not only accepted, but fashionable among the upper classes. Besides, he enjoyed the relationship. She satisfied him emotionally, sexually, and intellectually. He was completely immersed. He didn't care that it may not morally correct; he was enjoying it.

  Chapter 8

  One day Phidias participated in a discussion Plato was having with Aristotle and some students. “Knowledge is possible only through Ideas, said Plato.

  “What do you mean by ideas,” said Phidias, although he was familiar with Plato’s thoughts.

  “I speak of Ideas with a capital because they do not rely on the senses but are real. They remain unchanged, even though the senses may be deceived or even die.”

  “How are they unchanging, Master?” a student asked.

  “In mathematics, every triangle you draw is imperfect and can be erased, but the idea of triangle and the form and laws of all triangles is perfect and everlasting. This is true of all geometry.

  “Likewise the classes of things are more real than the individuals that comprise them. Man enables us to think of all men, table of all tables, light of every light that may ever shine. Individual men and tables may be destroyed, but the idea man and table survive.”

  “What about abstract ideas such as virtue or beauty?” asked Aristotle.

  “Abstractions are also real in this sense. Individual acts of virtue are forgotten, but virtue itself has a permanent reality. The same is true for qualities such as beauty, largeness, the color red, and so forth.”

  “I don’t see how this can pertain to science,” argued Aristotle. “After all what we observe in nature has its own reality.”

  Plato replied, “The world of science is not composed of individual things, but of Ideas. History is the story of man, not of men. Biology is not the science of individual organisms, but of life. Philosophy itself is the science of ideas.”

  Aristotle was not convinced by Plato's reasoning. After the discussion, the participants dispersed and Aristotle sought out Phidias. "I really don't agree with Plato," he said of his master. "I don't think ideas or abstractions have a reality of their own. I think they're just handy names that we can use. History is made by men, for who else acts it out. The science of biology is developed by studying individual organisms. There is no such thing as 'man' in a large sense. It is only a category we use to group all men together. The only thing that exists is real men, men who are born, age, and die."

  "I see what you mean, my friend, but I also understand Plato's arguments," said Phidias.

  "I truly admire Plato and his philosophy," Aristotle returned. “I do like to argue with him and may do so tomorrow, but it’s meant to be as philosopher to philosopher. I love him as a father.”

  “I also love him,” said Phidias, “but I admire you, too.”

  Phidias held Plato on his highest pedestal. He admired this brilliant philosopher, who had sat at the feet of Socrates. He had read everything that the master had written and absorbed all his teachings. However, he listened with growing appreciation of Aristotle's arguments against some of Plato's thoughts.

  He was learning to be critical himself of some of the master’s ideas, and was agreeing more and more with Aristotle.

  The political situation in Athens had been in turmoil for some years, with the upper, middle, and lower classes almost coming to open battle. Arguments and sometimes brawls warmed the streets, but the real fire was fanned in the Assembly. By this time, the poorer classes had maintained a majority in the Assembly, and the educated and well-to-do, despairing of winning a vote, stayed away.

  As the weaknesses of democracy became overwhelming, Plato could not help criticize it. "The average intelligence of the Assembly is fallen so, that it is easily swayed by demagogues," he said to one of his friends with obvious disgust. Phidias was also present and was sympathetic to Plato’s feelings.

  His friend replied, "I recently went to one of Aristophanes' plays. He really poked fun at them, showing that the unethical politicians who rule the Assembly are leaders of bumbling idiots. Phocion, who opposes Demosthenes, despises the Assembly. I was present when he gave a speech there. He is known for his honesty, you know. Afterward, they applauded him. He turned to me and said, 'Have I unconsciously said something bad?' I laughed."

  Plato also laughed, "That's like Phocion all right. Even our colleague, Isocrates, criticizes the Assembly. He said that it makes so many bad decisions, that it just as well should be paid by Athens' enemies."

  The next day, Plato talked about government to his students. Phidias wanted to hear what he had to say. “The democrats turn out to be as bad as the plutocrats,” he said. “They use the power of their numbers to tax the middle and upper classes and to vote doles to the masses and offices and salaries to their leaders. They pander to the multitudes until liberty becomes anarchy. Our moral standards are debased to vulgarity and there is no respect for age, position or wealth. As the rampant pursuit of wealth will destroy an oligarchy, so the excess of libertarianism will destroy a democracy.”

  “But, Master,” a student said, “isn’t it better for the common people to have a say in government, and that they not be dominated by the wealthy few?”

  “Yes to an extent, Phaedrus. However, when liberty becomes license, then dictatorship is near. The rich, afraid that the masses that control the government will bleed them dry, will conspire to overthrow it. If successful, they will set up a strongman and strangle the masses, or as is more likely, some ambitious demagogue promises everything to the masses, surrounds himself with a personal coterie and armed men, kills his enemies, then his friends and establishes a dictatorship.”

  “What kind of government would you have, Master?” Phaedrus replied.

  “You know my thoughts about a best possible state in which philosophers rule. I know this may never be, although we can hope that at least intelligent and philosophical leaders will arise. In a conflict of extremes, of plutocrats against the masses, the philosopher who preaches moderation is shouted down. He is like a man fallen among wild beasts. If he is wise he will retire and wait until the storm passes.” His students continued the discussion in class, and later in the streets.

  As if by prediction, the next day, armed thugs hired by the wealthiest families roamed through Athens, beating and killing the poor and unlettered. Finally, their blood lust satiated, they melted into the hills.

  Two days later the Assembly met and posted armed guards around itself.

  The leader of the Assembly, Antiphanes, spoke. “My fellow citizens, you have seen the treachery of the rich, who want to despoil you of your liberty by force. We will not be intimidated.” He continued to name the atrocities and victims of the slaughter. Working the crowd up to hysteria he made a proposal.

  “Because the wealthy are a threat to our liberty. I propose the following laws.

  First, that all of them will be taxed at fifty percent of their wealth. Any who cannot or will not pay will have their property confiscated by the state.” There was wild cheering and agreement. “Please quiet down, my fellow citizens. I have a more important proposal. We need a permanent committee, a body of nomothetai, lawmakers, who have em
ergency powers to deal with lawbreakers and to punish them. This is so that we do not have to call the entire Assembly to do so, which involves taking you from your jobs.” Again there was enthusiastic applause.

  One of Antiphanes friends, as planned, stood up and raised his voice. “I say we vote on the proposals put forth by our speaker, Antiphanes. In addition I propose that he be the chairman of the committee of nomothetai.”

  There was overwhelming cheering and as in one voice, the Assembly voted to give its power to a small committee, headed by a convincing and skillful speaker.

  Pouring out of the meeting, gangs of men broke into several houses of the rich. Fortunately most were at their country estates. The mobs stole what they could and shattered what they couldn’t. Feces were smeared over murals, garbage thrown into fountains, and statues thrown over and mutilated. The hapless slaves were beaten or killed. One of the owner’s daughters was in the house watching over the slaves. She was brutally raped and murdered. Carrying torches they were preparing to march out and set fire to the estates, when Antiphanes stopped and addressed them.

  “Do not kill the rich or destroy their property, citizens. We need them to pay the taxes. Do not fear, we will make them pay for their treachery – and pay, and pay.” The leaders of the rabble nodded in agreement, threw down their torches and bade everyone to return to their homes.

  Disturbed by the excesses of the mob, and the influence of demagogues, Plato began to write a book in which he revised his ideas of the best state. He titled it Laws and described a city placed inland away from foreign trade and influence. It was to be administered by a council, which would enforce the laws of how much property a man could possess, not too much and not too little. A man must marry between the ages of thirty and thirty-five, and drinking in public amusements was to be regulated. Women would have equal educational and political opportunity with men. All education was to be regulated by a minister of education, the state's highest official. The state would decide which gods were to be worshiped, and in what manner. Any citizen who questioned the state religion would be imprisoned, and, if he persisted, was to be executed. This was more like Sparta than Athens. It was a far cry from his youth, when his hero Socrates doubted the existence of the Olympian gods and was tried for it.

  Despairing of the tendency of politics that was degrading into anarchy and despotism, Plato more and more withdrew from Athenian public life. He showed his distaste for the chaos of democracy. "I favor an aristocracy," he said. "The government should be in the hands of competent rulers, not demagogues or the masses."

  "But it is Athens' freedoms that have created its culture, Plato," his friend rejoined.

  "Yes, but it is the degradation of politics and morals that are its downfall. I think that the disciplined and strict morals of Sparta would be better. Look how stable their city is."

  "It is stifling,” Phidias argued. “All Sparta trains for is war. They don't produce philosophy or literature."

  "That may be true," said Plato. "What I yearn for is peace in my old age. I would abolish war, and, yes, poverty too. Perhaps I love justice, more than truth itself."

  Plato sighed, and his friends saw the sadness and resignation in his eyes. If Athens' most revered philosopher could not find much to say in praise of Greek freedom, then Greece was ripe for a king.

  Chapter 9

  Phidias stirred with the gray light of dawn spreading through the high-set window. He had fallen asleep with Thais in his arms, and looked over to where she lay, her blond hair forming a halo around her peaceful face. He became excited with the memory of last night's lovemaking and reached for her. As he enveloped his arms around her breasts and moved his pelvis against her backside, she hummed an awakening tone. "Go to sleep," she said.” Don't you ever tire?"

  "I never tire from making love to you," he whispered as he tweaked her nipples and rubbed his enlarging member between her buttocks. He could feel her stir in response, pushing her pelvis backward and putting her hands over his. He pulled her around to face him and kissed her at first teasingly, then as she reciprocated, passionately and more deeply. After playful intercourse, Phidias collapsed in quivering exhaustion on Thais. He murmured, “I thank the gods for sending you to me. Are you a goddess?” He smiled and kissed her gently.

  Thais stroked his back. She lightly laughed, “No, but you’re my Adonis.” They shared a laugh and kissed again.

  This morning exercise had caught Thais before she was fully awake and ended before she could reach her own climax. She had pretended it as she had been taught by experienced hetairai. She had enjoyed the lovemaking because it made Phidias feel good, but it left her unsatisfied.

  Phidias rolled to his back, still regaining his strength. After a few moments he kissed her and rose. "I would rather stay in bed with you all day, but I have to get ready for the Academy.” He stepped to the water pitcher, poured some into the basin, and splashed the cold water onto his face and chest and cleaned his still half-erected organ. After he grabbed his cloak and threw it around him, he reached over and kissed Thais, who had closed her eyes and turned to the side. "Goodbye, my love," he said.

  "May the gods bless you with a good day, Phidias," she smiled. She knew the slaves would take care of his breakfast and lunch. She had instructed them to do so, for he should not have to concern himself with those things of her house. She slumbered for a while but then awoke and lying abed, she reflected why she had chosen the life she had.

  * * *

  Thais remembered when she was 13, just after initiation into the periodic menstruations of womanhood. Her much older brother, Marthonis, had just taken a wife, who was only a few years older than Thais. As was the custom, the couple moved into Thais' father's house. Thais made friends with Elysia, her new sister-in-law.

  After a few months of wedded bliss, the fragrance of new romance faded from the bloom. Elysia was relegated to the menial chores of the other women of the household, while her husband went out to be with other men. One day Thais found Elysia crying in her bedroom.

  "What's wrong, my sister?" she asked.

  "Oh, Thais, I miss my family so much. When Marthonis brought me from my town, I was so happy to be with him, that I forgot my fear about a new home in a great city. Now he only talks with me when he wants something, especially sex. We hardly see each other. He is gone all day with your father, attending business or carousing with other men his age. I do what your mother tells me--- helping with the cooking, weaving, mending, and other chores. I feel like one of the slaves.”

  "I hear my father talk with Marthonis about politics or the latest play. Does he ever take you to the plays or talk to you about them?” asked Thais.

  “In my town we had no theater and I had no schooling, as you know. Whatever I learned of the gods or our Greek heritage, my mother taught me. No, Marthonis never talks to me of anything except the food or his clothes. When his friends come to the house, I am not allowed to see them, but must remain in my room. I feel that I am only a useful tool or a plaything for him. I feel so alone." She started to cry.

  "Oh, Elysia,” Thais soothed as she hugged her. "Don't cry. You have me and my mother. We are your friends."

  "I remember my grandmother told me, that it was not always this way," Elysia said. "She told me that her grandmother was very active in social life. She argued politics with the men in the market, attended lectures and symposia and even wrote poetry. She was respected by other women and even men. It was not unheard of at that time for women to walk freely about the town without a veil. But my grandmother said times gradually changed, as the customs of the Persians and other barbarians seeped into our Greek culture. Women were gradually secluded, veiled, relegated to menial service and shackled to the home."

  Thais had not realized that it had not always been as she knew it now. She suddenly felt choked with empathy, for Elysia’s plight grabbed at her soul. In a couple of years at the most, Father would arrange a marriage with some older man whom she wouldn’t know.
How would she know if he would love her or treat her well? How would she know what his family would be like? Would his mother despise and abuse her? What of his father and brothers?

  Thais refused to be subjected to that. A strong-willed girl, she vowed to become independent. She knew other women had left their homes and families. She knew of auletrides and hetairai.

  About a month after her fourteenth birthday, her father announced at dinner with the whole family present, that he was promising Thais to a man from Thebes. He was a wealthy merchant. Everyone applauded and congratulated Thais. She thanked her father, but in her heart she hid her fear and loathing of a life like Elysia's.

  Afterward, Elysia came to Thais' room where she found her quietly crying. "Don't waste all your tears now, Thais. You may have to save some for later. I know what you must feel. I was in your place only a few years ago. It is fearful."

  "Elysia, I will not be married to some old man and waste my life in the back rooms of his house. I want to be an educated, independent woman. I want to be free to walk the streets and be friends with whomever I choose, even politicians and philosophers. I will not be someone's sex slave," she fumed as she beat her fist into the bed.

  "What will you do, Thais?"

  "I have seen hetairai in their beautifully colored clothes walking proudly through the markets, men greeting them with respect. I will meet one. I will ask her to help me leave home and become one like her."

  Elysia was incredulous. "Thais, you will not marry nor have children?"

  "What use have I for children, only the pain of childbirth and the drudgery of raising brats, only to have them leave my home. No, I will be my own person, a woman of independence respected for my mind as well as my body"

  Soon afterward while Thais was accompanying a slave to the market to buy food, she saw a hetaira. She was impressed with her bearing, head held high, telling her slave what to buy, arguing with the sellers. Her gown was beautiful, obviously very expensive. Thais told her slave she was going to another stall to pick out some fruit. She walked over to the hetaira and spoke.

 

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