THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA
Moral Corruption and Philosophic Education in Plato's Phaedrus
A DISSERTATION Submitted to the Faculty of the School of Philosophy Of The Catholic University of America In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements For the Degree Doctor of Philosophy © Copyright All Rights Reserved By Geoffrey M. Batchelder Washington, D.C.
2009
UMI Number: 3348445 Copyright 2009 by Batchelder, Geoffrey M.
All rights reserved.
INFORMATION TO USERS
The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. Broken or indistinct print, colored or poor quality illustrations and photographs, print bleed-through, substandard margins, and improper alignment can adversely affect reproduction. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if unauthorized copyright material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion.
®
UMI UMI Microform 3348445 Copyright 2009 by ProQuest LLC. All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code. ProQuest LLC 789 E. Eisenhower Parkway PO Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346
Moral Corruption and Philosophic Education in Plato's Phaedrus Geoffrey M. Batchelder, Ph.D. Director: Therese-Anne Druart, Ph.D. This dissertation argues that Plato's Phaedrus is a case study in the philosophic cure of moral corruption, a process of intellectual decay that causes people to hold false opinions about matters of practical conduct and can lead to a systematic, pathological failure to recognize first principles for the ordering of the soul. Philosophic education by contrast leads toward true moral opinions and the practice of virtue, which is the proper, healthy condition of souls and the only state conducive to true happiness. The argument invokes two key ideas: first, philosophy is a kind of therapy whose teachers, like physicians, treat diseases, but in souls rather than bodies; and second, paying attention to dramatic aspects of the dialogue permits a fuller grasp of its doctrinal contents. In the Phaedrus, Socrates helps a youthful Athenian aristocrat named Phaedrus overcome a false opinion about love by using philosophic analysis to correct popular views on the subject. Initially, Phaedrus shows undue enthusiasm for a speech written by the sophist Lysias that claims one should grant erotic favors to a non-lover rather than a lover. After Phaedrus reads the speech aloud, Socrates delivers two speeches of his own to clarify and refute the Lysian speech, and Phaedrus admits that Socrates has beaten Lysias at his own game. Using his familiar method of dialectic, Socrates explains the principles that made his speeches superior, the errors that make sophistic rhetoric a cause of moral corrup-
tion, and the theoretical basis of the cure he is attempting. The quality of Phaedrus's responses improves as he absorbs substantive philosophic doctrines: he rejects bodily pleasures as slavish, admits the weakness of a sophistic rhetoric based on literary devices and technical jargon, acknowledges the strength of a philosophic rhetoric based on knowledge of truth and an understanding of the human soul, concedes that dialectical education is better than emulating written speeches, and finally at the dialogue's end, endorses an epitome of Platonic ethics that suggests philosophic therapy has had a beneficial effect on him.
This dissertation by Geoffrey M. Batchelder fulfills the dissertation requirement for the doctoral degree in Philosophy approved by Therese-Anne Druart, Ph.D., as Director, and by Jean De Groot, Ph.D., and V. Bradley Lewis, Ph.D., as Readers.
[JLSISC<-.
J-~
Therese-Anne Druart, Ph.D., Director
Jean De Groot, Ph.D., Reader
V. Bradley Lewis, Ph.i)., Reader
u
carae matri et dilecti patris memoriae
in
Table of Contents
Abbreviations Preface Acknowledgements
v vi vii
1. Introduction
1
i. Education and Punishment as Therapies for the Soul ii. Proscription as Prescription: Curing Moral Corruption in the Human Soul
2. The Eroticus of Lysias
5 14
20
i. Corruption, Seduction, and Innuendo ii. Virtue, Vice, and Subjective Standards iii. Form, Fallacy, and Argumentation iv. Phaedrus Raptus
23 30 36 54
3. The Middle Speech
59
i. Three Signs of the Truth ii. Red Herring in the Main Argument iii. False Analogy and Hasty Generalization in the Definition of Love iv. Conclusion
4. Socrates'Palinode
63 69 77 84
87
i. Philosophic Doctrines of the Charioteer Myth
94
ii. Psychology, Restraint, and Moral Education
108
5. Philosophic Rhetoric: A Remedy for Moral Corruption
121
i. Knowledge, Truth, and Diaeresis ii. Psychiatry, Psychology, and Method
123 145
iii. Writing, Speech, and Education
165
6. Conclusion
190
i. Reading the Phaedrus
198
Bibliography
202 iv
List of Abbreviations For ease of reference, the following commentaries, editions, and translations of Plato's Phaedrus are cited in the notes and (occasionally) the text by the editor's name alone. To prevent confusion, references to other works by these scholars include a full or abbreviated title. Brisson = Plato. Phedre. Tr. L. Brisson. Paris: GF - Flammarion, 1997. De Vries = GJ. De Vries. A Commentary on the Phaedrus of Plato. Amsterdam: Adolf M. Hakkert, 1969. Hackforth = Plato. Phaedrus. Tr. R. Hackforth. Cambridge: The University Press, 1952. Heitsch = Plato. Phaidros, 2d ed. Tr. E. Heitsch. Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997. Reale = Plato. Fedro. Tr. G. Reale. Rome and Milan: Arnoldo Mondadori, 1998. Rowe = Plato. Phaedrus. 2d ed. Tr. C.J. Rowe. Warminster: Axis & Phillips, 2000. Thompson = The Phaedrus of Plato. Ed. W.H. Thompson. London, 1868. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1973.
Also, the following acronyms are used: HGP = W.K.C. Guthrie. A History of Greek Philosophy. 6 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1962-76. LSJ = H.G. Liddell, R. Scott, and H.S. Jones. A Greek-English Lexicon, 9th ed. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1968. NW = Plato. Phaedrus. Tr. A. Nehamas and P. Woodruff. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1995. PTK = Plato's Theory of Knowledge: The Theaetetus and the Sophist. Tr. F.M. Cornford.
London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1935. RMV = Plato. Phedre. Ed. L. Robin, C. Moreschini, and P. Vicaire. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1995. v
Preface
The Greek text used in preparing this study is the one edited by Claudio Moreschini and reprinted in the Bude series (Platon, Phedre, tome IV, 3e partie, 3e tirage, notice de L. Robin, texte etabli par C. Moreschini et traduit par P. Vicaire [Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1995]). All English translations of the Phaedrus presented here are the author's work, though Vicaire's influence was inevitable, and all the versions listed in the bibliography were consulted at one time or another.
VI
Acknowledgements
I would never have reached this milestone without the infinite patience and generous guidance of my Director, Readers, and Dean, and I cannot thank them enough. I would also like to thank all the fine speakers at CUA who inspired me in their lectures and seminars, the undergraduates who endured my lectures, my classmates and colleagues from the Graduate Philosophy Colloquium, and especially my friends in the School of Philosophy Blues Band: xolva yap za TWV cpLkidv.
vu
Chapter One Introduction This dissertation argues that Plato's Phaedrus is a case study in the philosophic cure of moral corruption, a degenerative condition that leads human souls to hold false opinions about matters of practical conduct. Left unchecked, moral corruption can result in a systematic, pathological failure to recognize first principles for the ordering of the soul. Philosophic education fights moral corruption by leading souls in the opposite direction, toward right moral opinions and the practice of virtue, which Plato sees as the proper, healthy condition of a soul, and the only state conducive to true human happiness.1
1
Moral corruption has received little attention in recent scholarship on the Phaedrus, despite the appearance of many notable works on the dialogue. Seth Benardete, The Rhetoric of Morality and Philosophy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991) emphasizes the dialogue's apparent lack of literary unity and the problematic relation between philosophy and rhetoric. Ronna Burger, Plato's Phaedrus: A Defense of a Philosophic Art of Writing (University, Ala.: University of Alabama Press, 1980) reads the dialogue through its critique of writing, yielding a formal account that downplays the content of the speeches. Jacques Derrida, "Plato's Pharmacy," in Dissemination, tr. B. Johnson (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1981), 61-171, raises the question of writing, explores suggestive lexical ambiguities, and deconstructs a series of polar oppositions he finds in the text. G.R.F. Ferrari, Listening to the Cicadas: A Study of Plato's Phaedrus (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987) studies how setting and characterization support the dialogue's philosophic themes. Charles Griswold, SelfKnowledge in Plato's Phaedrus, 2d ed. (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996) emphasizes literary form and argues that the theme of self-knowledge unifies the dialogue. Graeme Nicholson, Plato's Phaedrus: The Philosophy of Love (West Lafayette: Purdue University Press, 1999) focuses on content, specifically Plato's doctrine of love and its relation to philosophy. Martha Nussbaum, The Fragility of Goodness (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 200-33, argues that the Phaedrus recants Plato's middle-period ascetic rationalism to admit emotion and poetry as elements of the good life. Josef Pieper, Enthusiasm and Divine Madness: On the Platonic Dialogue Phaedrus, tr. R. Winston and C. Winston (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1964) focuses on erotic love and its relation to human nature and the divine. John Sallis, Being and Logos: Reading the Platonic Dialogues, 3d ed. (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1996) stresses dramatic features while investigating the relation of speech, the city, and truth. David White, Rhetoric and Reality in Plato's Phaedrus (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993) focuses on metaphysics and sees love, speech, and writing as paths to a vision of truth. Neither these nor any of the other sources consulted during preparation of this study discuss philosophic cures for moral corruption as a major theme of the Phaedrus. On the relation between opinion and truth, see below, 124 n. 8; on defining corruption, 13-14, 23.
1
2 This claim invokes two key ideas: first, that Platonic philosophy may be profitably understood as therapeutic or medicinal, with its practitioners, like physicians, diagnosing, treating, and sometimes curing illness, but in souls rather than bodies;2 and second, that paying attention to dramatic and contextual clues allows a fuller understanding of Platonic dialogues and doctrines than might otherwise be possible.3 This dissertation combines these ideas to argue that the Phaedrus is a dramatic enactment of philosophic therapy, or a case study showing the power philosophic education has to fight moral corruption.4 Socrates' didactic strategy is, first, to contrast popular ideas about erotic love with a deeper ontological analysis of the subject to lead Phaedrus, a youthful Everyman of the Athenian aristocracy, from a corrupt to a healthy opinion about a moral issue to provide him with a sound basis for making decisions sure to impact the course and quality of his life, then second, to show him how unreflective zeal for sophistic rhetoric left him vulnerable to moral corruption, and why philosophic methods geared towards the discovery and dissemination of truth will make him 2
Mark Moes, Plato's Dialogue Form and the Care of the Soul (New York: Peter Lang, 2000), 25-58. Gerald Press, "The State of the Question in the Study of Plato," The Southern Journal of Philosophy 34 (1996): 507-32, esp. nn. 59, 61, 66, 75, 76, 92. 4 One may search the text of the Phaedrus in vain for an explicit statement of its overall purpose, intent, or meaning (the elusive skopos of Hermeias, In Platonis Phaedrum scholia, ed. P. Couvreur [Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlag, 1971], 8-12), a lack that has helped inspire many articles on the so-called "unity problem." Yet a signal virtue of Platonic dialogues is precisely their ability to wander freely over a range of subjects in order to present philosophy as a relevant, vital human activity, by which means they arguably surpass, or at least significantly complement, what a formal treatise can accomplish. "Plato has his own way of attacking problems which we should separate (but he does not) into ontological, epistemological, psychological, political and so forth. It is to let them arise in the naturally digressive course of actual conversations. .. . The nominal subject may be [one thing], but in each [dialogue] it will be approached through different eyes, by a different route and with different emphasis. [Plato leaves] the reader to discover [it] through the varied talk of his characters" (HGP, 4:412). This approach provides a needed balance to the reductive, overly specialized tendency of much Western thought, and assures the perennial relevance of Platonic philosophy. 3
3 a better orator without the harmful moral and cognitive side-effects of sophistry. At the beginning of the dialogue, Phaedrus shows symptoms of moral corruption in his undue enthusiasm for a show-speech by the writer Lysias advocating the exchange of sexual favors outside the context of a committed love relationship. Socrates improvises two speeches of his own to clarify and then refute the Lysian speech, and two-thirds of the way through the dialogue, Phaedrus admits that Socrates has beaten Lysias at his own game. Shifting his method from rhetoric to dialectic, in the rest of the dialogue Socrates explains the source of his speaking ability, and how the cure he is performing is possible. Meanwhile, Phaedrus voices substantive philosophic doctrines that signal his cure's progress: he rejects bodily pleasures as slavish, acknowledges the failings of conventional rhetoric, recognizes a good orator's need for knowledge of truth and an understanding of the human soul, concedes the superiority of live dialectical interaction with benevolent teachers to the rote emulation of polished written speeches sold by sophists, and finally, at the dialogue's end, endorses Socrates' closing prayer, an epitome of Platonic ethics that precludes moral corruption.5 Socrates' trial, conviction, and execution for supposedly corrupting the youth of Athens surely helped inspire Plato's idea that philosophy could cure moral corruption.6 Socrates saw it as his benevolent personal duty to examine those he met, refute the false conceit of 5
The matters enumerated in this sentence are discussed in chapters five and six. Euthyphro 2c-3b, Apology 24b, Xenophon Apology 10, Memorabilia 1.1.1; the irreligion charge was made up to justify a stiffer penalty and disguise the indictment's true motive, resentment by a humiliated elite {Apology 23c-d, 27e-28a, Gorgias 521d-522c, Meno 94e-95a; Gilbert Ryle, Plato's Progress [Cambridge: The University Press, 1966], 146-148); the philosopher returning to the cave at Republic 7.517a is charged with corruption. 6
4 wisdom, and exhort all to care for their souls by practicing virtue,7 but Meletus and his backers deemed him a nuisance, and exploited popular suspicion of avant-garde intellectuals to get rid of him.8 Plato had every reason to defend the memory of his mentor, for beside personal fondness and a sense of justice, his own career as head of the Academy depended on the practice of a distinctly Socratic style of philosophy.9 In mounting this defense, it was especially critical to combat the widespread belief that Socratic influence lay behind the misdeeds of two late-fifth-century political figures, Alcibiades and Critias, who were notorious inter alia for their alleged role in mutilating the Herms and defaming the Mysteries on the eve of the disastrous Sicilian expedition.10 These were not the only men whose reputations were tarnished by the stigma of these deeds however: the historical model for the present dialogue's interlocutor, a man named Phaedrus from the deme Myrrhinous, was accused of these same impieties, and by the time Plato was writing, his name may have been as much a token for the supposedly corruptive influence of Socratic philosophy as theirs.11 Plato saw moral corruption as a serious threat, but blamed it on
7
Apology 28d-30b, 30e-31b, 39d, Gorgias 502e-503a, 504d-e, 513e, 521a, Sophist 230b-d. The Ionian physicists and itinerant Sophists, both seen in Aristophanes' caricature of Socrates as a teacher of atheism and eristic; the Sophists claimed to improve their pupils or teach virtue {Gorgias 519c-e), but had a reputation for corrupting them instead (Meno 91c sq.). 9 See Gorgias 484c and 487c-d, with Dodds's notes ad loc. 10 Thucydides 6.12, 15, 27-29, 60-61; Plutarch Life of Alcibiades; Xenophon Memorabilia 1.2.12-39; HGP 3: 298-304, 383; Alan Bloom, Love & Friendship (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993), 525-26; Mark McPherran, The Religion of Socrates (University Park: Penn State University Press, 1996), 116, 167-72; see further W.D. Furley, Andokides and the Herms (London: Institute of Classical Studies, 1996). 11 Stanley Rosen, Plato's Symposium, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), 7-8, 35 n., 164 n., 285-86, citing Andocides, On the Mysteries. 8
5 sophistic rhetoric and the ignorant multitude whose opinions it sought to manipulate.12 The Phaedrus aims to vindicate philosophy as a valuable remedial treatment for moral corruption by presenting a case-study of Socrates' efforts to help Phaedrus, one of the men he had reputedly corrupted, fight corruption instead. If Phaedrus's impieties show that Socrates failed to save him, the dialogue proves that it was not for want of trying, but that the cumulative burden of corruption is too great for one man, even such a one as Socrates, to fight alone.
Education and Punishment as Therapies for the Soul Dialogues like the Protagoras and Meno suggest that Plato inherited a concern with the teachability of virtue from Socrates and the sophists, but the depth and acuity of his analysis far surpassed that of his predecessors, as works like the Republic and Laws readily attest.13 To recommend philosophic education as a remedy for moral corruption is indirectly but effectively to develop a response to the inherited question about the teaching of virtue, and the alternative but overlapping thematic conceptualizations of how best to respond to the problem of vice—crime and punishment, illness and cure, corruption and education of the soul—pervade Plato's dialogues, from the earliest to the latest. Some of his statements are hard to reconcile, since his reasons for broaching the themes are not always the same, yet his persistent return to this group of moral concepts shows the depth of his concern, and merits
Republic 490e-495b blames moral corruption on the crowd more than the sophists. Protagoras 320b sq.; Meno 70a sq.; Republic 3, 4, 7; Laws 1.
6 investigation for the light it sheds on the Phaedrus. In the Apology, Socrates scolds Meletus for failing to reflect on the meaning of moral corruption, perhaps revealing the actual historical inspiration for Plato's emphasis on this theme in his own work.14 The Gorgias identifies such corruption as the deterioration or subversion of virtue,15 and the Crito argues that since life is not worth living with a corrupted body, a fortiori it is not worth living with a corrupted soul, a point repeated in Republic 4 to amplify the censure of vice.16 Carried to its logical conclusion, this doctrine finds expression in Plato's advocacy of death as a fitting penalty for those whose moral opinions are permanently and irrevocably corrupted or vicious.17 He saw execution not as retribution against offenders who have forfeited or no longer deserve their lives, but as a kind of euthanasia or humanitarian release from unbearable misery.18 He considers death, like other penalties, a therapy for the soul, albeit a special one reserved for the very worst diseases, which, in a telling departure from his own justification, he terms incurable, not amenable to milder treatments.19 This implies that errors, vice, and so moral corruption itself are often curable, and
14
Apology 24c-26a. Gorgias 513c-517a, esp. 515e; the animal-trainer analogy at 516a-b recalls Apology 25b; Sophist 228a-b succinctly defines Ttov7)piot, wickedness, as a kind of arcuate; or voaoc, caused by corruption. 16 Crito die; Republic 4.445a-b; cf. Gorgias 512a-b. 17 Laws 12.957e, cf. 5.735e, 9.854e, 862e-863a, Republic 3.409e-410a. In advocating the death penalty yet holding that Athens executed an innocent man when it ordered Socrates to drink hemlock, Plato anticipates a familiar modern argument against capital punishment, the impossibility of absolute certainty about guilt. See, e.g., Jeffrey Reiman, "Justice, Givilization, and the Death Penalty," Ethics and Public Affairs 14 (1985): 117. 18 Gorgias 512b; Laws 9.862d-863a. 19 Gorgias 479a-480d; reluctant to rely on paradox to justify this key doctrine, he also cites the deterrent, exemplary value of the harshest penalties {Gorgias 525c, Phaedo 113e, Republic 10.615e, Laws 9.862e). 15
7 indeed, he recommends punishment and education as remedies for the soul, and credits them with powers analogous to bodily treatments like diet, drugs, and exercise.20 In the Apology, Socrates cites intentionality as the legal standard for imposing punishment rather than education; the Sophist explores a potential justification for this criterion by distinguishing ignorance, an involuntary deformity, disproportion, or ugliness of the soul, from wickedness, a kind of disease, discord, or corruption deserving punishment.21 As bodily deformity calls for gymnastic exercise, not medicine, so ignorance merits instruction, not punishment. Stupidity, the worst kind of ignorance, is best treated with paideia, but since it is involuntary and resists instruction, elenchus is a more effective remedy for it than admonition, the traditional method of paideia. Wickedness is a disease warranting medical treatment, but unlike the Phaedrus, this passage sanctions a punitive, not a didactic cure.22 The Timaeus appends a discussion of vice to a detailed account of physiology, pathology, and medicine under the rubric of somatically induced diseases of the soul.23 Pleasures and pains in excess are the greatest such diseases, for they distort perception and hinder reason, and the worst of these are the pains and pleasures of sexual desire, which cause mad-
20
Gorgias 478d-e lists three kinds of relief or cure (dcTtaXXayT), overtly likened to medical treatment) for wickedness: VOU9-STT]CTL<; (admonition), k-KiTzkr^iq (punishment, cf. xoXa^ecrQ-oa, 479al), and S£XY]V 8(.§6voa (restitution); the ideal orator applies therapeutic speeches to the souls of citizens to cure injustice and unrestraint and foster moral improvement at 504d-e, 513e; the same therapeutic educational treatment receives deeper analysis at Phaedrus 270b, e, 276a-e, 278a. 21 Apology 26a; Sophist 227d-231b. 22 The passage insists that it is articulating demotic views (UTCO TWV TTOXXWV, 228d; xaira TTJV av9pa)Tuv7)v So^av, 229a), perhaps to signal that this is not a final, fully philosophic answer. 23 Timaeus 86b sq.
8 ness,24 so erotic license, widely considered a deliberate vice, is really a symptom of involuntary disease. In fact, no one is willingly bad, so most unrestraint in pleasure is wrongly censured when branded as vice.25 The two main sources of vice, bad bodily condition and uncultured rearing, misfortunes no one would willingly choose, are aggravated by poor government, bad public and private speech, and a lack of good education, so moral corruption compounds bad luck to drag many innocent souls to wickedness. Nonetheless, all should take responsibility for improving themselves, and try to overcome vice through upright lifestyle, habits, and studies.26 The somatic and psychic therapy most conducive to health and virtue establishes a balance between body and soul by applying gymnastics (and diet instead of drugs in cases of pathology) to the one and music and philosophy (especially astronomy) to the other so as to supply each with its own proper kind of motion.27 Like the Phaedrus, the Timaeus considers vice a disease, recommends educational therapy as a cure without mentioning punishment, and is concerned with the corruptive effects of bad speeches. By attributing individual acts to antecedent environmental and physiological causes, the Timaeus seems to anticipate behaviorism, yet it clings to moral responsibility as a prerequisite of social order. These two positions seem incompatible, so some discussion is due. To say that vice is like disease is not to say that it is exactly like disease in every way. 24
The thesis of Lysias, corrected to distinguish lust, the human disease of 265a, from love. Ethical intellectualism; cf. Protagoras 345d sq., Laws 731c sq., HGP 3:459-62. 26 Timaeus 86b—87b; to see vice as involuntary disease is not necessarily to posit determinism, for as Laws 1.644e-645c holds, desire is a natural challenge surmountable by the exercise of reason. 27 Timaeus 87c-90d. 25
9 An analogy does not need to be perfect to be useful, and even the best of them break down when pushed too far. To argue that this is no analogy, and that vice just simply is disease of the soul, would still allow for differences between diseases of body and soul, for distinct species of a larger genus are not required to have identical attributes, so even if somatic disease were purely involuntary,28 vice can be partially voluntary. One might admit, for example, that it is harder for a man who was raised in a state or household that encouraged or tolerated gambling to resist doing it himself as an adult, yet maintain nevertheless that such a man should be held responsible for the consequences of repeatedly choosing to engage in such a risky form of entertainment, and that he cannot cite a gambling addiction as a valid excuse for failing to support his family or pay his taxes. It may further help to distinguish between metaphysical and practical responsibility. The former obtains so long as an agent has at least some contributory role in determining his conduct, for it is still possible then to say that his own judgment and will cause his actions. Recognizing some diseases of the soul as partially voluntary preserves this notion of metaphysical responsibility while justifying non-punitive remedies. Practical responsibility on the other hand is strictly a matter of liability for damages, which can be imposed independent of any determination of intentionality. This kind of responsibility can scarcely be applied to self-regarding vice, for there is no way in such cases to take from the perpetrator to compensate the victim, for they are the same. It makes much 28
Which it arguably is not, for most would recognize a degree of personal responsibility for somatic illnesses that result from risky behavior or deliberate refusal to take standard precautions. Some diseases may be purely involuntary, but that does not mean they all necessarily are.
10 better sense to use education as a remedy for the causes of self-destructive behavior.29 In the Laws, the Athenian Stranger favors gentle remedies for vice in all but the worst cases, which call for anger and punishment.30 He promotes educational persuasion over punitive force in arguing for the use of legal preludes, and confirms this preference by offering his laws as a form of paideia.31 He exculpates criminals as far as he can, and argues that, since no one errs intentionally, the penological distinction between voluntary and involuntary acts should be replaced by one between harm, concrete damage to a victim's interests that merits legal remedy, and injustice, a disease of the offender's soul to be cured by education if possible or punishment if necessary.32 This distinctively Platonic conception of justice has less to do with preserving a fair distribution of external goods than with cultivating an inner state of psychic harmony equivalent to virtue in general, and so includes shares of specific virtues.33 Restraint is essential to such harmony, and so plays a key role in achieving the aim of law, as the desire for wealth and pleasure, whose control is restraint's main job, is a chief cause of most "intentional" crime.34 A life of restraint, rjGxppoauvT], is rationally preferable to
29
For a somewhat different approach to these issues and some helpful references, see R.F. Stalley, "Punishment and the Physiology of the Timaeus," The Classical Quarterly, 46 (1996): 357-70. 30 Laws 5.73la-d; cf. Ttapa[i.u9-i.a at Sophist 230al. 31 Laws 9.854a, cf. 4.718b, 720a; 9.857d-e. 32 Laws 9.860c-864b; this distinguishes law from morality, yet claims a benevolent official interest both in maintaining social order and in promoting the moral health and happiness of individuals; cf. Glen Morrow, Plato's Cretan City, 2d ed. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), 561. 33 Gorgias 504c-e; Republic 4.443c-444a; cf. Aristotle Ethica Nicomachea 5.1, 1129M l-30al3. 34 Laws 1.631b-d, cf. 12.963a-969d; cf. Helen North, Sophrosyne (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966), 186-96; in the Republic, food, drink, sex, and money are the objects of epithymia (4.436a, 439d, 442a, 9.580e581a), and restraint is the key virtue for most of the city (4.431b—c); so too in the Laws (1.636d-e, 2.653a-c,
11 a life of license, axoAaora, for the former's mild pleasures outweigh its pains, while the latter's violent pains exceed its pleasures. No one is willingly licentious, for that would contradict reason, which always prefers better to worse; licentiousness is due either to stupidity, aiia&La, or to moral weakness, ayipaxzitx, both of which should respond to education.35 This thematic trajectory rejoins the Phaedrus as the Stranger seeks a remedy for the most vehement desire of all, sexual desire.36 He explains that there are two kinds of friendship, one between equals, the other—desire really—between opposites; both are called love when intense, but real love is tame and mutual, while lust is wild and selfish. A wild lover loves the body, seeks only to sate his lust, and cares little for the character or soul of the beloved, but a tame lover loves the soul, considers physical gratification disgusting, reveres virtue, and practices chastity. Educational eros, the gentle desire that the young be as good as possible, should be legal, but carnal love, and a third, mixed form of love, should not.37 Such
5.7"32e-734d, 6.782d-783d, 7.792b-e, 9.869e-870d, 11.918c-919d); note that the other parts of the soul can cause crime too (9.863a-864b). 35 Laws 5.734b, refining the account of the Sophist, which divided xotxioc into KOVTjpta and dcyvoia, but passed over routine ignorance to focus on a[ia&ta, the smug, self-righteous confidence that accompanies most moral error. By acting, the erring agent asserts he knows a way to the good, yet simultaneously proves his ignorance. AxpaTeia corresponds to the Sophist'srcovYjpca,but is a better explanation: just branding the cause of an error as wickedness begs the question of moral responsibility without giving an account, but axpa-csia explains the failure as a psychic imbalance, a failure of reason to rule or of spirit and desire to be ruled (cf. 3.688a-689e; 9.863b-864b). Study of the soul is key in grasping such matters. 36 Laws 8.835b-842a; cf. 6.783a, Timaeus 86c-d; the Stranger censures all non-procreative sex, but is extra critical of relations between males, first contrasting an ancient, natural law against them with their current popularity and citing animals' avoidance of the practice as a sign it is unnatural, then arguing that rather than teaching courage and restraint, it encourages cowardice and license, which are inimical to law (Laws 8.836c-e; cf. 838e, 841d, 1.635e-636e, and esp. Phaedrus 250e-251a). 37 Laws 8.837a-d, an obvious reference to the Phaedrus; cf. the confusion of love and lust explained as left- and right-handed love at 265e-266b (cf. 253d-e), and the tripartition of loves into chaste, mixed, and carnal at
12 powerful desires are hard to regulate, but the universal aversion to incest shows there is hope, and suggests a remedial techne?% Citing procreation as the natural purpose of coition, the Stranger proposes a law against a number of promiscuous sexual practices. He admits it would be unpopular and hard to enforce, but claims its many benefits—consonance with nature, prevention of rape, satyriasis, and adultery, reduction of gluttony and drunkenness, and promotion of spousal affection—would justify the effort.39 The example of athletes who abstain from sex during training gives him hope that people will control themselves if taught that happiness, the reward for conquering pleasure, is far nobler than any athletic prize; that non-procreative sexual activity is impious; and that surrendering to lust is shameful.40 If corruptive reports of the joys of Aphrodite make full abstinence unattainable, a second-best law should use shame as a substitute for labor to decrease the frequency of the act and the habitual force of the drive, and demand that indulgence be kept discrete.41
256a-257a; the Phaedrus tolerates mixed love, but the stricter Laws does not. 38 Laws 8.838a-d; the techne (837ell, 838e6, 839cl) is a rhetorical strategy: moral education (y.-i]krlaiq, 840c2, cf. Phaedrus 259a3, bl, 267dl, Republic 10.601b3, 607c7-8) using stories, maxims, and songs in childhood (840bl0-c2) and beyond (838b-c) aims to create a self-perpetuating public opinion that casual sex is sacrilegious (838cl, tko(i.icnj, cf. 838d7, xaikep&MTac; 840c7, [iY)Sajj.o>i; OCTLOV, cf. 841c3, TO 9-eoufjia). 39 Laws 8.838e-839d; on erotic frenzy or fiavta, cf. Phaedrus 244a-245b, 249d-e, 264e-266b; on the kinship of lust, gluttony, and drunkenness, see Phaedrus 237d-238c, cf. Republic 1.329a, 9.580e. 40 Laws 8.839e-840e; 841c summarizes these three appeals under the second-best law. 41 Laws 8.840e-841c; for labor, cf. 835d9; the first standard would outlaw extra-marital relations with noblewomen and all those with concubines and males; the second would abolish relations with males, and discourage them with women outside marriage {Laws 8.84ld-e).
13 In the Phaedrus, Socrates' rejection of Lysias's argument for providing favors to a non-lover combines the Laws's fear of the corruptive influence of reports about immoral erotic practices with the Timaean concern about bad public and private discourse in a concrete lesson to Phaedrus, whose mental energies have been diverted from studying truth to pursuing pleasure by unscrupulous rhetoric teachers who have perverted his love of the Muses in a quest to make him a consumer of their dubious wares. Whoever yields to the lascivious advances of such a non-lover sets out down a slippery slope to moral corruption, perpetuates the hedonistic ethos of his seducer by imitating his base words and actions, and in time becomes a seducer himself, no longer an innocent victim, but an active cause of moral corruption. No matter what justification they offer, speeches that encourage promiscuity are intrinsically corruptive, and any rhetoric that sanctions them, whether as paradigms, advertisements, or toys, is reprobate. Philosophy, the reasoned pursuit of truth and goodness, not only offers better principles for the composition and delivery of cogent speeches, but also instills superior moral and intellectual habits to withstand the lure and counteract the legacy of a culture dominated by sophistic rhetoric and mob-morality. These observations aim to show that the idea of philosophy as a remedy for moral corruption has a wider context than the Phaedrus, and that it is a key but subtle thread running through much of Platonic philosophy. The Laws's second-best law on sex furnishes the closest thing Plato offers to an explicit definition of moral corruption: "those whose charac-
14 ters have been corrupted are all alike: we call them self-defeated."42 The notion of self-defeat or being weaker than oneself is the equivalent of a lack of the virtue sophrosyne, whose indispensability for the good life is a pillar of Platonic moral philosophy.43
Proscription as Prescription: Curing Moral Corruption in The Human Soul Since moral corruption is a disorder of the soul, its cure must stem from an understanding of the soul. The Phaedrus requires would-be orators to understand the soul, both in general, so they can grasp the truth about the moral issues they must address, and in particular, so they can tailor their speeches to the character of each actual audience. The method Socrates borrows from medicine provides an empirical algorithm for detecting and treating the specific needs of individual patients' souls, and is a necessary tool for the philosopher qua speaker, yet it is not enough for him as educator, for he must also understand the moral concepts he teaches, so he needs a deeper theoretical account of the soul. It is the seat of cognition, volition, virtue, and vice, is prior to and more honorable than the body or external goods, and is the part of the moral agent that vice harms and virtue preserves. To harm the soul is to harm oneself in the deepest sense, so to indulge in vice is to court misery. All who
42
Touc xkc, cpuaeiQ Siecp&aptievout;, ou<; Y]TTOU<; GCUTWV Ttpoaayopeuofj-evov, sv ysvo<; ov {Laws 8.841b8-9; cf. TWV nAeLOTcov S(.a9-9-et.pwvTaL, 840e2-3). 43 Republic 4.430e-431b explains this condition as the rule of the better part of the soul by the worse, calls it licentiousness (T]TTCO eocuToo xal axoXaaxov TOV OUTW St.axsLja.evov), opposes it to sophrosyne, and blames bad upbringing and company; cf. Laws 1.626e, 633e, 645b, 10.902b, Phaedrus 233c2; a simpler equivalent is defeat or enslavement by (contrasted with victory or mastery over) pleasure, Laws 8.840c, 9.869e, Protagoras 352e-358c; the ruin and dissolution (cp&opa . . . \uoic,, 546a2-3) of constitutions and souls in Republic 8-9 chronicles the corruption (ScscpQ-eipovxcov, 572dl) and loss of sophrosyne (North, 175-76).
15 desire happiness should practice virtue, but many are fooled by the illusion that pleasure is the good. Rigorous, profound education is essential to nourish reason and fortify will against the constant fractious strivings of appetite, whose rule, if allowed, spells disaster for the soul. The soul's immortality implies that the consequences of vice are greater than the uneducated can imagine, for the cycle of rebirth includes an interim between consecutive lives for judgment and the application of rewards and punishments for earthly virtue and vice, and makes the quality of a given soul's subsequent lives cumulative and dependant on behavior during earlier ones, providing not only an amplified incentive to rectitude, but also an aetiology of current conditions. The soul's supernatural history emphasizes its kinship with the divine heavens, establishes it as superior to and worthier of tendence than the body, and lets Socrates explain educational eros as an intellectual phenomenon, the recollection of Sophrosyne and Beauty, to ground the argument that true eros is no bestial desire for physical gratification, but a psychic longing for virtue, knowledge, and philosophic friendship.44 Chapter two of this dissertation examines the Eroticus, the first of three speeches about love that make up roughly the first two-thirds of the dialogue. Overtly a show speech to exhibit its author's ingenuity, its real intent is to seduce its audience. The speech argues that one should grant sexual favors not to someone who loves, but to someone who does not, 44
The soul is the link between the elevated ontology of the Forms, which sometimes seems to defeat and denigrate the material world completely, and the practical life, which is conducted exclusively in that world, so the sensible and intelligible "two worlds" are not, as sometimes imagined, irreconcilable, and the Forms (understood as a doctrine positing the immateriality of the objects of true knowledge and their fundamental kinship with immaterial souls that can know them, cf. ch. 4) have valuable practical applications.
16 on the grounds that lovers are insane, and that their company is harmful. Love is thus summarily dismissed, and most of the speech is a repetitious enumeration of the presumed benefits that will accrue to one who grants favors to a non-lover. The considerations advanced do perversely support the position argued for, but the speech is intellectually weak, for it relies on hearsay, innuendo, tricks like antithesis and paradox, and the stultifying accumulation of self-interest-based cost-benefit calculations. Phaedrus's enthusiasm shows that the speech has corrupted him with its poor logic and false opinion. This harm will be compounded in the future, for moral agents generally behave as their beliefs direct, and the belief that lovers are sick and dangerous will encourage promiscuity, for relations with non-lovers are temporary and lack the care and commitment that might otherwise transform sex into an elevating, meaningful relationship. Focusing only on pleasure and profit, the Eroticus overlooks the humanizing power of love and exemplifies the corruptive power of rhetorically amplified false opinion. This chapter argues that, whether Plato is quoting a real speech written by the historical Lysias or composes it himself as a parody of rhetorical conventions, he includes the speech in order to attack it as false. By reacting to it, the rest of the dialogue unfolds its positive message about the nature and benefits of philosophy, which can illuminate key moral issues like love and help its students surmount moral corruption. Chapter three studies the dialogue's middle speech, the first of Socrates' two replies to the Eroticus. This speech is better organized and intellectually stronger than the Eroticus,
17 for, anticipating principles that Socrates explains in the last third of the dialogue, it uses a definition to develop a clear, structured, non-repetitive argument for the anti-erotic thesis, but it is mixed in its moral content. To its credit, it tries to rise above the sheer hedonistic egoism of the Eroticus by distinguishing between judgment and desire, and by lauding self-restraint as morally superior to self-indulgence, but it fails to provide a rigorous philosophic analysis of the question, and instead of citing reason as its principle of self-control, it appeals to opinion, the court of popular morality, and reaches the wrong conclusion. Even worse, it expands the vague premise that lovers are mad into a much clearer condemnation of love, saying that it is a vice and that lovers are harmful and disgusting. Socrates portrays lovers as lustful beasts who ruin their companions, a tendentious distortion of the truth. Despite its formal and intellectual improvements, the middle speech, if allowed to stand without further qualification, would actually be worse morally than the Eroticus since it increases the cogency and persuasive power of the latter's slanderous vilification of love. Fortunately, Socrates does not allow it to stand. This chapter's thesis is that the middle speech is a preliminary exercise to prepare Phaedrus for more advanced lessons, and thus a partial advance on the Eroticus. Chapter four investigates the second of Socrates' two speeches, also known as his palinode, retraction, or recantation. Unlike his first speech, this one presents an accurate conception of love, supports it with rigorous philosophic arguments, and refers to systematic theories of morality, knowledge, and being. Its gist is that the immortal, tripartite human
18 soul's experience of true love is simultaneously recollection and anticipation of a primordial, incorporeal dwelling with real being. Aroused by physical beauty, amplified by beauty of character, and practiced as a lasting bond, love is no lustful urge for physical gratification, but a complex emotional and intellectual union of souls. Ideally, love is celibate, but in practice it may include a physical dimension. The speech is grounded not in popular opinion, but in Platonic metaphysics, a sign that it is meant to provide a final answer to the erotic question; in so doing, it satisfies a contributory task of the dialogue by solving a particular moral dilemma, both for Phaedrus himself and for others in his situation. This chapter argues that the palinode's aim is not just to advocate a specific doctrine of love or sexual morality, but to exemplify philosophy's pedagogic power to dispel false opinions and cure moral corruption. Chapter five analyzes the dialogue's final third, an extended discussion of rhetoric and education that portrays Socrates and Phaedrus in dialogue, no longer giving speeches. This section continues the dialogue's philosophic cure, but carries it to a new level by explaining its own theoretic underpinnings, a necessary step in turning Phaedrus to pursue philosophic rather than sophistic rhetoric. The best antidote for moral corruption is knowledge of the truth, whose discovery requires the use of sophisticated analytic methods derived from natural philosophy. 4 5 To really be good, a speech need not be clever or ornate, but must be
45
Knowledge of the truth is an ideal not likely to be achieved except by committed, seasoned philosophers, so Socrates surely has the humbler goal here of bringing Phaedrus to true opinion about the dialogue's moral question, and about the risks of sophistry and benefits of philosophy. Deep, dedicated study of the causes of natural and moral phenomena might eventually enable Phaedrus to become truly philosophic, but the first step for him
19 composed with an understanding of the truth about its subject, even if its ultimate goal is to deceive. A rhetorical curriculum based on ineffective literary methods corrupts the minds of its students, just as a false speech can corrupt its audience. Seeking truth by the application of a rigorous analytic method is an effective antidote for both these kinds of moral corruption, yet cannot be learned from handbooks or written models, but only through live dialectic with experienced lovers of wisdom. This chapter argues that the final section of the Phaedrus explains the principles underlying the possibility of philosophic cures for moral corruption while furthering the dialogue's mission to show how such cures might work in practice. Chapter six concludes the dissertation by searching the text for signs of the effectiveness of philosophic therapy. Phaedrus evidently absorbed the palinode's moral lesson, and despite lingering doubts, there is some indication that he grasped key parts of the theoretic account. Although a certain risk of misinterpretation always attends the study of any written work for reasons famously explored in this very dialogue, overall the Phaedrus suggests that Socrates' ministrations have helped Phaedrus, and thus that properly applied philosophic arguments can be effective aids in the fight against moral corruption.
must be true opinion, no mean feat given the issues involved in his case. If Socrates can persuade him to dedicate himself to the rigorous pursuit of truth, his speeches will surely be better for it, whether he ever achieves a full, synoptic vision of really real reality or not.
Chapter Two The Eroticus of Lysias This chapter studies the Eroticus, the first of the Phaedrus 's three formal speeches, and argues that its chief function is to serve as a vehicle of false opinion illustrating the corruptive force of sophistic rhetoric. The rest of the dialogue responds to this bad specimen with a positive message about the nature and benefits of philosophy, whose methods and doctrines can illuminate key topics like love to help fight moral corruption, which the last chapter argued is a major concern for Plato. It seems doubtful that the Eroticus is really the work of the historical Lysias, but without new evidence, this judgment is unlikely to be verified or refuted; fortunately, the question does not need to be settled for one to grasp the speech's meaning or appreciate its role in the dialogue. Unless otherwise noted, references herein to Lysias and his views apply only to a Platonic caricature, not the historical figure.1 The first thirty pages of the Phaedrus are devoted mainly to presenting the three speeches, which all concern love, a standard topic for the epideictic or display oratory that teachers of rhetoric typically composed to advertise in Plato's day.2 The first of these, the Eroticus, sets the agenda for the rest of the dialogue: it holds a prominent position near the 1
Plato assigns the speech to Lysias at 227c, 228a-e, 230e, 242d, 243c-d, 257b-c, 258c-d, 262d-e, and 263e264a; recent agonists in the long-standing dispute this has inspired are Heitsch, 78, who argues for Lysian authorship, and Stephen Todd, who in introducing his translation of the Lysian corpus (Lysias, [Speeches,} tr. S.C. Todd [Austin: University of Texas Press, 2000], 4 n. 4), says "it is probably a parody of Lysias' style written by Plato himself; for earlier opinions, see De Vries, 11-14, and HGP 4:433; for the title "Eroticus," see Paul Shorey, "On the Erotikos of Lysias in Plato's Phaedrus," Classical Philology 28 (1933): 131-32, and for the Latinized spelling used here, Thompson, 184. 2 Arthur Adkins, "The 'Speech of Lysias' in Plato's Phaedrus," in The Greeks and Us: Essays in Honor of Arthur W.H. Adkins, ed. Louden and Schollmeier (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996), 224; Francois Laserre, "'Eponrixoi \6yoi," Museum Helveticum 1 (1944): 169-78.
20
21 beginning,3 precedes two competing speeches on the same theme,4 and receives extensive formal criticism in the last twenty pages.5 It is a showpiece written to exhibit its author's ingenuity, but its subtext or real intent is to solicit sexual favors.6 Phaedrus reports that Lysias wrote of seducing a fair youth, but judging from his efforts to memorize the speech, first begging Lysias to repeat it and then rehearsing it alone, Phaedrus was the one seduced.7 The speech says one should grant favors not to a man in love, but to one who is not, because lovers are out of their minds. It condemns love by enumerating the harms that befall those who yield to lovers and the benefits that accrue to those who favor non-lovers, but it uses weak arguments that assume the very point they want to prove. The intellectual appeal of the Eroticus is minimal: it uses brute force, the unreasoning accumulation of self-interest-based cost-benefit calculations, to stifle thought and rouse fear. Its thesis is immoral, and it corrupts Phaedrus by persuading him of a false opinion,8 yet his zeal shows he is oblivious to the harm it has done him. He may act on his new belief, he may try to spread it to others, or he may become skeptical of other norms; any such result would
3
The Eroticus takes up just under four pages (230e6-234c6), about 8% of the 52-page (227a to 279c) dialogue. Socrates' two speeches (237a8-241d2; 243e9-257a2) account for about 17 pages or 33% of the dialogue. 5 The criticism is explicit at 234d-235b and 262c-264e, but implicit throughout the dialogue. 6 Griswold, 45-46; Ferrari, Cicadas, 46, 88; White, Rhetoric, 24. 7 227c; 228a-b; physical seduction is a metaphor for intellectual corruption by sophistic rhetoric. 8 To &q jjxpiaxeov [XY] spwvxi [ICLKKOV r\ epah/Ti (227c7-8) [that one should favor a non-lover rather than a lover]; cf. A6yo<; oc; avrcapovTOi;epaarou TW JJLYJ epwvxi fxaXXov cpyj Seiv japiCza^oa, SIOTL 8T) 6 fiev [AcdveTai, 6 8e awcppovsl (244a4-6) [the argument someone might make that, when a lover is present, one ought to favor a non-lover instead, since the one is crazy and the other sane]. 4
22 exacerbate the harm. Despite Lysias's express argument to the contrary,9 the belief that lovers are sick and dangerous encourages promiscuity, since relations between partners who are not in love lack the care and commitment that could otherwise transform sex into an elevating personal relationship. Focusing only on pleasure and profit, the Eroticus reduces love to sexual desire, ignores its humanizing educational power, and decries it in favor of sterile prudential friendship that is little more than glorified prostitution. In short, the Eroticus is a pernicious example of false opinion and a vehicle of moral corruption. This chapter analyzes the Eroticus, and argues that Plato intended its thesis, that one should grant favors to a non-lover rather than a lover, to exemplify moral corruption. To construct a dialogue about the curative powers of philosophy, he needed a specimen of corruptive rhetoric so he could portray his philosophic protagonist Socrates combating it. With a sinister antagonist illuminating his views by contrast, he presents a moral dilemma, shows how the careful application of philosophic techniques can lead to a correct solution, and thus how philosophic education can improve life for individuals and communities. Meanwhile, he uses dramatic techniques to reinforce the lesson by presenting Phaedrus as a corrupted character, the Eroticus as the cause of his condition, and Socrates using philosophic techniques to cure that condition. This dramatic economy gives a thematic unity to the dialogue that would not be possible without the Eroticus exemplifying the corruptive power of sophistic rhetoric. 9
234b7-c4.
23 As Lysias represents the sophists, Phaedrus represents Everyman, the typical Athenian citizen,10 so one need not insist too firmly on the historicity of either character. The Eroticus has seduced Phaedrus and persuaded him that its thesis is true, that it really is better to favor nonlovers than lovers. After he reads it to Socrates, the dialogue chronicles the philosophic ascent of his soul from corruption towards moral rectitude.11
Corruption, Seduction, and Innuendo This chapter sets aside the subject of cures to focus on corruption. The Eroticus exemplifies moral corruption: it has a corrupt thesis, advocates corrupt practices, and tends to corrupt its audience, who become worse by its influence. These three senses of corruption differ, but relate -jxpoq ev to moral badness or vice. Since a speech (or its thesis) cannot engage directly in moral action, it cannot itself, strictly speaking, be called vicious; it can, however, have vice-causing potential, in which case it is corruptive (or "corrupt" simply), and this is a kind of badness. The thesis of the Eroticus is bad because it is false, and the speech itself is corrupt because it presents a false opinion as true. It is natural to call false opinion of this sort "moral corruption," first because its subject matter relates to a moral issue, and second because it results from, constitutes, or causes cp&opa, the process of becoming worse. Anyone who hears the speech risks being corrupted, and anyone who accepts its thesis actu-
10 11
Elizabeth Asmis, "Psychagogia in Plato's Phaedrus," Illinois Classical Studies 11 (1986): 155. R.B. Rutherford, The Art of Plato (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1995), 246-51.
24 ally does suffer such corruption. Vicious acts have false moral beliefs as maxims, but whether acted on or not, such beliefs are already symptoms of corruption, so it is vital to know what moral corruption is, how to identify it, and how to correct it.12 The Eroticus claims one should favor a suitor who is not in love rather than one who is because love is sexual desire so strong it verges on insanity, so lovers are dissolute and dangerous, but non-lovers are sane, sober, beneficial companions; and further, that lovers are predators who disregard the beloved's welfare and pursue only their own immediate gratification, but non-lovers truly care about the beloved, make better friends, and loyally provide concrete future benefits, so one who favors a non-lover will enjoy health, wealth, and good reputation. This is a complete inversion of the truth, and Lysias probably does not believe it himself, but is simply using rhetoric to advance a paradox for his own personal gain. The report the dialogue gives of his interactions with Phaedrus is vague enough that it remains unclear whether the speech is just a public showpiece designed to seduce an audience of potential students into enrolling in a course of rhetorical studies, or whether Lysias delivered it to Phaedrus privately to seduce him sexually. This ambiguity is not accidental, but is supposed to suggest a parallel between the intellectually corruptive force of sophistic rhetoric and the morally corruptive risk of promiscuous or predatory sexual practices, so both interpretations
are in a sense correct. Hoping to exploit Phaedrus without caring for the condition of his soul, 12
For more on defining moral corruption, see above, 13-14.
25 Lysias tries to seduce him at Morychus's house by reading him the Eroticus, and does not hesitate to stretch, conceal, and deny the truth in pursuit of his persuasive agenda. He presents himself as a non-lover, but in fact embodies the vices he ascribes to lovers and so proves himself a hypocrite. This explains why, in beginning the Middle Speech, whose function is to clarify and strengthen the Eroticus, Socrates says, There once was a boy, a mere lad really, who was quite attractive and had very many lovers. One of them, who was particularly wily but no less in love than the others, convinced the boy he did not love him. And once while wooing him, he tried to persuade him of this very thesis, that one should favor a non-lover rather than a lover.13 It is not hard to see that the wily lover stands allegorically for Lysias, and the fair lad for Phaedrus, who is puerile in his judgment at least, if not in actual age. Lysias's deceit and base motive vitiate his character, and recommend scrutiny of his arguments and other appeals. Beyond its context and motive, analysis of the Eroticus shows that its thesis is intrinsically corrupt. Its cold prudential calculus advocates a maximization of personal utility that would have a beloved sell favors to the highest bidder. Lysias argues that since the rewards that accrue from gratifying a non-lover are greater, his suit should be preferred to the lover's with no eye to normative or affective considerations, a position tantamount to advocating prostitution.14 By presenting himself as a non-lover, Lysias hopes to procure favors with the
13
'Hv OUTGO SY] nalq, [laXkov Se \izipa.Y.LoY.o<;, [iccka xaXoc;- TOUTW Se rjcrav epacrrai. uivu rcoXXoL EL<; Se ziq auxwv a.i\±u\oQ •qv, o<; ouSevo? YJTTOV epwv, ineneixzi xov ualSa w<; oux epaW). Kai noxe auxov CUTWV ETceiQ-ev TOUT' OCUTO, ax; [i,r\ spwvxi rcpo TOU epwvxcx; 8eoc ^ a p ^ e a S m (237b2-7). 14 Athenian custom allowed prostitution by low-class or foreign-born women, but rejected the idea of men, es-
26 false promise of future benefits: even in the pre-philosophic court of popular morality, this is morally corrupt. The speech errs because of the false implicit definition of love that it is built around, but Lysias hides error with artifice and exploits Phaedrus's love of letters to infect his soul with moral corruption. The situation is grave. Socrates teases Phaedrus for being gullible, but like a true friend, he soon turns to straighten things out. Rightly, he points out that the Eroticus is disorganized and repetitious,15 but it is neither incoherent nor meaningless. It aims to seduce Phaedrus by persuading him that he will be better off if he flouts established conventions by giving favors to someone who does not love him instead of to someone who does, that as a non-lover himself Lysias deserves favors, and that there is an urgent need for a prompt decision. He never directly asks for sex, but his desire for it is obvious. In paragraph l,16 Lysias establishes rapport with his audience (Phaedais) via direct second-person address (eTuararjoa . . . dbojxoac;). He refers obliquely to the speech's subject, epov TtpaypiaTGOV, my affairs,17 and TOUTCOV, these things, usually a reference to something already said, but here an allusion to the speaker's desire for sexual contact.18 He cites mutual advantage, aufjupepet-v Y]u,Tv, as justifying cooperation, lending the speech a merce-
pecially citizens, engaging in such practices. See K.J. Dover, Greek Popular Morality in the Time of Plato and Aristotle (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974; repr., Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1994), 215-16; K.J. Dover, Greek Homosexuality, 2d ed. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989), 19-49. 15 At 235a and 264a-b. 16 This and subsequent references are to the division/translation of the speech presented below, 36 sq. 17 The word v:pa.y\ia. is a comic euphemism for the erect membrum virile. See Jeffrey Henderson, The Maculate Muse, 2d ed. (NewYork: Oxford University Press, 1991), 116. 18 De Vries ad loc: "The speech . . . uses vague allusions. . . . establishment of a lovers' relationship is meant."
27 nary tone from the outset. Next, he states his thesis: he should not be denied what he wants, axu^jiaai cov Ssofxaa, just because he is not the auditor's lover, oux epa.axr\q cov aou. This key sentence establishes the premise and thesis of the Eroticus, and with it the dialogue's whole agenda. The rest of the speech lists reasons why non-lovers are fit to receive favors and lovers not. Lysias mainly uses abstract, third-person arguments, but speaks in the first or second person often enough to dispel any doubt about his own interest in the ultimate decision. Far from being a trustworthy arbiter of truth, he hopes to exploit Phaedrus's naivete and use him as a means to his own pleasure. So insidious a motive precludes friendship, and vitiates Lysias's claims about the benign motives of the non-lover. Paragraph 9 reveals Lysias's self-interest in a phrase it uses to describe successful non-lovers, eupa^av cbv eSeovxo, they got what they wanted. The verb Ttpaaato, to do, appears repeatedly in the Eroticus, as does the cognate noun rcpayfjia, matter, affair, or business, a popular euphemism for sex.19 Aeofjiai, to need, ask, or beg for, echoes the beginning of the speech, where Lysias begs not to be denied what he is asking for, 'A^LW Se [XTQ . . . OLTuyyioai cbv §eo|j,oa. Lysias fancies himself a non-lover and wants Phaedrus to yield to his conquest as non-beloved. His seductive intent surfaces again in paragraph 11, where he puts himself (SJJLOL Tisi&ofjievto, ELXOI TTEC&Y]) bluntly in the non-lover's shoes. The endings of the
19
As De Vries notes ad loc, "In 'Lysias's' speech, as often in Greek, ixpaxTeiv and its cognates are used with erotic connotations, cp. 233a2, 234a3." See also on 231c7.
28 series of participles enumerating the actions of the non-lover agree with the subject of G\>viao[L(x.l: Lysias. In other words, he attributes to himself many of the presumed virtues of the non-lover whose case he champions in abstracto throughout the speech. Lysias clearly aims to seduce Phaedrus with this speech. As his many uses of the noun GUVOUCTLOC and its cognate verb auveijxi attest, the favors Lysias wants are surely sexual. Like the Latin coitus or English "intercourse," GUVOUGIOC has a wide range of meanings, from meeting or conversing, through dwelling, studying, or spending time together, to sexual union or copulation. All these senses fit the etymological rubric "being together." Selecting a partner is partly a matter of choosing a companion for everyday activities, but modern students of Hellenic culture recognize that in practice the relationship usually involved intimate contact. So although
GUVOUGLOCV
may bear a merely gen-
eral sense of association or intercourse, in paragraph 8, GUVS ZVOLI is overtly sexual. In paragraph 9, GUVOUGL and GUVOVTCOV have feignedly innocent but actually sexual meaning, and are obvious innuendoes. Lysias clings to the pretense of the overt meaning while covertly yet transparently desiring, connoting, and soliciting sex. He may even intend a subliminal effect, for the listener's conscious mind to hear the tame sense, but for his subconscious to divine the taboo meaning and become aroused. This would uphold a semblance of probity and disguise the shameful truth. Lysias heightens his speech's air of vagueness and paradox by using GUVOUGLGC ambiguously; by repeating it, he ratchets up the pressure on Phaedrus.
29 Other euphemisms prove that the desired favors are sexual. In paragraph 2 for example, Lysias says lovers act UTC' dvayx7]g, "from necessity," a euphemism for lust or libido, but non-lovers act exovxeq , "willingly," without constraint or ignorance of circumstance.20 The word eTU&ujjia is in nearly every paragraph of the speech: "desire," the genus lust belongs to, is one possible translation, but here it indicates the species itself, "lust."21 In the Republic, the term denotes the lowest part of the soul, appetite,22 whose main objects are food, drink, and sex, though it is clear there that sex is the chief of these.23 Even in English, desire stands for lust by a sort of euphemistic synecdoche. Lysias cites the non-lover's interest in friendship in paragraph 8, but nonetheless admits that both lover and non-lover are interested in the same thing: sex. But he veils this admission with the euphemism aXXyjv XLVOL YJSOVYJV, "some other pleasure," as though rhetorical couching would mitigate the stark reality of the acts in question. Another euphemism, a uepl Tzkeiaxou TCOLYJ, "what you value most," appears in paragraph 9, and stands for chastity or favors, as did paragraph 5's similar expression, TOLOUXOV Tcpayfxa, "such an important matter." Lysias tries to camouflage his desire for sex by using these euphemisms, but they betray the deceitful premise of his speech.
20
LSJ, s.v. dvayxT), la and esp. 2b, "natural need" at Republic 5.458d etc.; Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 3.1. LSJ, s.v. £-rci9-u[jiia, 1.1. 22 To Se w spa xe xal TISIVYJ xal Sujwj xal rcepl TOLQ aXkoiq sTtiQ-ufjiiac; sTtTOTjxaa [upoaayopeuw^ev] aXoyiarov TE xal eTC(.9-up]T!.x6v [TYJ? ^ U X ^ ] (Republic 4.439d); cf. 9.580d-581a. 23 Republic 9.572b-575a, esp. 572e6-573a2 and 573e4-6. 21
30
Virtue, Vice, and Subjective Standards Lysias admits that lovers and non-lovers both want favors, so his main argument for rejecting the former is the many vices he lays to their charge. That love might have some possible benefit, intrinsic or extrinsic, never crosses his mind (or he never admits it), and so he distorts reality. By contrast, a reasonable, balanced account would admit that, whether the advantages of love outweigh its disadvantages or not, the case is surely not one-sided. So Lysias is guilty at least of a sort of bad faith: he does not present a balanced, circumspect account of his subject, as he would if he respected his audience. Listing the vices Lysias attributes to the lover illustrates this: inconstancy (12); selfishness (3); disloyalty (4); foolishness and intemperance (5); vanity and indiscretion (7); disreputability (8); irritability, petulance, and jealousy (9); detached, shallow lustfulness (10); sycophancy, poor judgment, and oversensitivity (11); importunity (13); exploitativeness, boastfulness, and quarrelsomeness (14); dissoluteness (15). In short, lovers harm their conquests in nearly every way imaginable. This ridiculous portrait of a paranoid, compulsive lover who shuffles furtively about importuning and ruining respectable but vulnerable victims would be comical, if its extreme, relentless vilification of the lover were not so morally pernicious. The list of virtues attributed to the non-lover is shorter: constancy and prudence (2); responsibility and generosity (3); discretion (7); respectability (8); open-mindedness (9); stability and friendliness (10); sincerity, helpfulness, and moderation (11); reciprocity, wor-
31 thiness, and faithfulness (14); prudence (15). In short, the non-lover is a paragon of virtue. Lysias distributes praise and blame consistently: his arguments censure the lover and extol the non-lover with remarkable regularity. Of the sixteen logically separable paragraphs in the speech, eleven contrast lovers with non-lovers: 2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15. Five others do not fit the pattern: 1 (the introduction); 4 and 5 (attacks on the lover that lack corresponding praise for the non-lover); 12 (a curious argument denying that love is a necessary condition for good personal relationships); and 16 (a conclusion narrowly devoted to denying anticipated charges that the speech promotes promiscuity). Lysias's strategy throughout the speech is to vilify the lover by portraying him as a reckless fiend utterly consumed by an excessive, overwhelming desire for sex, who will do virtually anything to get what he wants, regardless of the long-term consequences. Once his lust fades, he is no better than an enemy to those he has debauched. He is a deceitful, manipulative rogue, and an imprudent, intemperate, unjust coward. By contrast, the non-lover is prudent, temperate, just, and courageous, and a steadfast friend willing to assume responsibility for his partner's mental, physical, and financial welfare. With his options presented in such stark relief, the auditor would seem to have no choice but to favor the suit of the nonlover. But Lysias is wrong about which suitor possesses the positive and which the negative qualities, for his speech is meticulously insulated from reality. Never does he cite evidence or authority; never does he appeal to a general principle; never does he draw on outside subject
32 matter via analogy, example, or testimony. In one instance, he flagrantly contradicts himself. By lexical choice and clever phraseology, Lysias makes a false thesis sound attractive, and so tricks a trusting soul, but sounding good and being true are two entirely separate things, and try as he may, Lysias's skill with words cannot make a false thesis true. The Eroticus comprises a laundry list of unsubstantiated accusations and contains a fatal self-contradiction; it is clearly not a philosophically rigorous treatment of its subject. The standard it appeals to throughout is popular opinion rather than truth, but it fails to do justice even to this lower standard, since its promiscuous recommendation violates the applicable normative standards. The speech pretends to appeal to conventional values and beliefs, but only pays them lip service by beginning its arguments with references to them. Lysias regularly distorts those conventions by applying his topsy-turvy definition of love as lustful mania to them, and the predictable result is paradoxical false opinion. Lysias's specious appeal to popular moral sentiment is easily debunked by studying his use of three words that appear multiple times in various forms throughout the speech: a^ioc,, TcpoCTYjxco, and zlv.bc,. The first,
OLC^IOQ,
appears in paragraphs 1, 3, 4, 6, 11, 13, 14,
and 16 in both verbal and adjectival forms. As an adjective, it can mean worthy, estimable, befitting, or deserving; as a verb, the meaning is similar: to deem worthy, value, or esteem a thing, or to expect, think or suppose; also in an absolute sense, to claim or assert. All these meanings involve the inevitably subjective attribution of some sort of value to a thing. One
33 must always ask, "According to whom?" since someone must first evaluate matters before ascribing this predicate. Since it makes a big difference whether a good or bad man makes such a value judgment, repeated use of this appeal falls flat if its source is not given. In paragraph 1, Lysias expects he should not be denied the favors he wants, but fails to appeal to any fixed standard of moral propriety to justify the expectation. The selfish lovers of paragraph 3 believe they have adequately repaid the beloved for his favors. Men of the type Lysias is describing would no doubt believe such a thing, but calling them lovers is inaccurate. In paragraph 4, Lysias claims that popular sentiment holds that the celebration of lovers is fitting because of the lengths they are willing to go to for their beloveds. Pausanias's speech in the Symposium suggests this is an accurate characterization of Athenian custom, but Lysias distorts convention by polluting it with his definition of love, thus violating Athenian norms.24 In paragraph 6, choosing the right partner is a matter of finding someone worthy of one's friendship, but Lysias offers no criterion forjudging such worth. In paragraph 11, he brands the sex acts lauded by successful lovers as not worthy of pleasure, that is, inherently blameworthy, which is simply hypocritical, since he hopes to perform similar acts himself. In the ridiculous counterthesis of paragraph 13, friends are unworthy of invitation to a feast, since need and probable gratitude are the hypothetical criteria of merit. In paragraph 14, non-lovers are worthy to receive sexual favors because they offer discretion, future bene24
Symposium 182d-183b; 181d-e.
34 fits, and perpetual friendship. Paragraph 16 claims promiscuity is unadvisable because a promiscuous partner's favors are not worth as much to potential recipients. Not one of these arguments involves any other interest or judgment than that of Lysias himself. He uses the term oi^ioq to feign reference to an objective standard of value, but makes no genuine attempt to appeal to anything more than the brutally subjective standard of self-interest. The second term under consideration here is rcpoaYjxw. It appears in paragraphs 2, 11 (twice), 13, and 14, and always in the same form, the impersonal expression 7tpo<77)xei, it is appropriate, fitting, or to be expected. Lysias argues in paragraph 2 that it is never to be expected that non-lovers will change their minds, since, unlike lovers, they are never excessive. This is a reasonable expectation given Lysias's definition of the non-lover, but Lysias's theory is just a theory, and a wrong one at that. Non-lovers are no doubt unrepentant, but because they are shameless, not innocent. In paragraph 11, Lysias claims it is to.be expected that the listener will become nobler by yielding to him rather than to a lover, and that, due to the various harmful effects of love, it is more fitting to pity than to envy those who yield to lovers. These claims refer to no other standard than Lysias's specious characterization of lovers as evil. In paragraph 13, the idea that aiding the destitute rather than the good is fitting rests on the intentionally ridiculous premise that one should favor the neediest most of all.
The position of TtpocYjxet. inside the indirect proof shows the inherent weakness of such claims: if a thing is fitting, it is fitting only within a given context or from a specific point of
35 view. This holds true as the indirect proof is dismissed in paragraph 14: it is not fitting to favor those who exhibit the negative qualities Lysias enumerates (lovers), but it is fitting to favor those who exhibit the positive qualities (non-lovers). This sudden reversal betrays both the ad hoc relativism of Lysias's notion of merit and the insidious, topsy-turvy logic of his seduction strategy. Since merit is a ground of entitlement, and since it is right to reward those who meet the criteria of merit, he cooks up the criteria to fit his imaginary non-lover, and then presents himself as that non-lover in order to get the favors he wants. The third term under consideration, eixoq, means likely, probable, reasonable, or fair, and occurs in paragraphs 5, 7, 9, and 10.25 In paragraph 5, Lysias asks a loaded question: "How reasonable is it to waste your favors on someone so dissolute?" The natural answer, given all the slander that Lysias has heaped on lovers, is "It's not reasonable at all, so I won't." This is a correct answer only within the context of the twisted logic of the speech, not in the truly relevant context, reality. Similarly, in paragraph 7, if the listener is worried about his reputation, then it is reasonable for him to select the non-lover, since as defined, the lover will bring him scorn and shame. In paragraph 9, if he is worried about the durability of friendships, then fear of lovers is reasonable z/one accepts Lysias's caricature, a rather big "if." Finally, in paragraph 10, it is not likely that sex between a non-lover and his partner will diminish their friendship, but rather, the acts will serve as a promise of future benefits be25
The term zly.bc, bears the brunt of Socrates' critique at 272d-273d; see ch. 5.
36 cause the non-lover is a constant friend. If the lover is as bad as Lysias says, then this would be a reasonable conclusion. This is another big "if—too big. The foregoing survey of the uses of ely.6q, a£,ioq, and Ttpo<xr)xco in the Eroticus reveals an integral link between the speech and Socrates' critique of rhetoric, confirming that Plato intended the speech to exemplify false moral opinion. Each time Lysias uses these words, he reveals the contextual, subjective nature of his arguments, and one may justifiably ask why it is likely or fitting, who is qualified to make this judgment, and whether the use of these impersonal expressions does not constitute a disingenuous attempt to summon an air of moral authority that is misleading, unjustified, and illegitimate in such a base and hopelessly biased speech. Not one of Lysias's arguments invokes a fixed frame of reference that could serve to validate his claims. Instead, he creates a self-referential world wherein everything is consistently false. With no appeal to truth or reality, the Eroticus offers no valid grounds for belief. In such a setting, a moral opinion can scarcely avoid being false and corruptive.
Form, Fallacy, and Argumentation The Eroticus has a number of specific formal weaknesses. Socrates criticizes it for failing to define its subject, for lacking argumentative development and organization, and for unduly repeating itself.26 But its real downfall is logic: few of its arguments are valid, and not
These criticisms may be found at 263d-e, 264b-e, and 235a respectively.
37 one is sound. To illustrate the speech's chief flaws in this department, the following section goes through the whole speech systematically from beginning to end. Paragraph 1 is introductory. In its second sentence, Lysias presents his thesis, that the listener should grant him favors despite his not being in love with him, as an inference from the first sentence, which is a vague mishmash of lewd hints. You know about my affairs, and you have heard how I think it would be to our advantage if these things should come to pass. And for this reason, I expect not to be denied the things I want just because I don't happen to be your lover.27 At 264a, Socrates says the passage sounds more like a conclusion, and criticizes Lysias for beginning at the end and trying to swim upstream on his back. This formal fault mimics the speech's content, which is also backwards: its paradoxical thesis tries to stand the conventional wisdom about love and lovers on its head. Lysias broaches a principal theme of his speech in paragraph 2: lovers regret the kind acts they have done for their beloveds once their desire fades. For lovers regret the kindnesses they have shown once their lust subsides, but it is never to be expected that non-lovers will change their minds. For love does not compel them to bestow kindnesses extravagantly, but they do so by choice, as serves their own interests, only to the extent that their resources will allow.28 If Lysias offered evidence to support this claim, it would qualify as an inductive generaliza27
I l e p l (JLEV TWV e(i.wv Kpayjj.aTWv ZTZIGTOKJOIL, x a l ox; VOJIC^W c7U(Acpepei.v 7)JJ.IV ysvofiivcov TOUTOJV
ay.Tjy.ooiQ. 'Ac]ifi> 8E \j.i] Sia TOUTO axu^TJaat, wv Sso^oa, OTL OUX ip<xaxi]Q wv aou Tuyxavw (230e6-231a2). 28 'Q.Q EXEIVOU; (iiv TOTS fieTa^iAei wv av eO uoiTjawaiv, £7T£t.8av rfj<; STUikifjiocc; TtauacovTca- T O I ? Se oux eaxi )(p6vo<; ev w [AeTayvaivGa upoaTjxei.. Ou y a p aXV EXOVTEC;, u>q av a p i a r a rcepl TWV ocxeicov (3ouA£oaoavTO, izpoc, TTJV 8uva(j.t.v TTJV auTcov eO TCOIOUCTCV (231a2-7).
38 tion, but as is, it is just a bald assertion. Yet it is significant: it contains his implicit definition of love as temporary insane lust. Lovers are profligates who inevitably regret their excesses once they recover. Non-lovers, by contrast, assess their personal affairs with care before bestowing benefits prudently, and are constant. Like businessmen, they exemplify the rational pursuit of self-interest, maintain self-control, and eschew emotion. Paragraph 3 develops Lysias's implicit definition of love as temporary madness by focusing on the evils attending the mad lover's return to sanity. The non-lover never needs to regain control because he never lost it, so the listener has nothing to fear from him. And besides, those in love weigh the evil effects that love has had on the disposition of their personal affairs against the kindnesses they have done, and taking into consideration the effort they invested, they conclude that they have long since adequately repaid the beloved for his favors. For those not in love, however, is it possible neither to cite love as an excuse for the neglect of personal affairs, nor to take bygone labors into account, nor yet to blame love for quarrels with relatives; and as a result, because so many evils have been eliminated, nothing remains but to perform eagerly whatever they think will please the beloved.29 This passage performs a cost-benefit analysis. It puts the effects of love on one side of the balance and those of not loving, or emotional detachment, on the other, and reveals Lysias's belief that personal relationships are liable to the same dispassionate analysis appropriate in
29
"ETL 8S ol \j.kv kp&vxeQ axoTtoucuv a xe xaxoSg SisSevxo TWV auxwv S(.a xov spcoxa xai a nenoiwr\y.a.aiw eu, xcd ov e!x ov ^ovov irpoaxi&Evxs^ rffouvxcui TcaXoci. TTJV d^iocv aTroSsSwxevai. X^PLV T0^C epcopivoic;xolq Se (jt.7) ep&kriv OUTS XY]V TWV olxeiwv afi.eXet.av S(.a xouxo eaxi ixpocpacr^sa&at., OUTS XOU<; irapeXT)Xu&oxaq Ttovoix; UTioXoy^eaQ-at., ouxe xcnq upoc, xou<; TtpocrTjxovxocc; Siatpopau; cdxi.aaaa&oa, WCTXS, Tizpi7)pY]p.evcov xoaouxcov xaxwv ou&ev UTtoXeLnexoa aXX' YJ TcoieZv rcpoS-ufAO)^ 6 xi av auxou; oiwvxai. Ttpa^avxe<; jjxpLelad-ai (231a7-b7).
39 business or accounting. He argues that eliminating emotional externalities improves market conditions by facilitating the exchange of eunoita. fovjapiq. Lovers are a threat, for their company entails liabilities, but non-lovers are trustworthy because their company brings only benefits. Nothing here supports the assertion that a non-lover will eagerly please his conquest simply because three specific evils are ostensibly avoided. Lysias overtly vilifies emotion, yet duplicitously encourages it by inciting the auditor to fear lovers and trust non-lovers. Paragraph 4 abandons the pattern of contrast between lover and non-lover, and claims to find an additional liability of lovers revealed in their own words. And besides, if it is fitting for lovers to be celebrated on account of their being in love, because they really, so they say, care for the ones they love and are prepared, both in word and in deed, to rouse the hatred of others in order to please their beloveds, it is plain to see, if what they say is true, that however many they may fall in love with later, they will always value their new beloveds more than their old ones, and it's clear that, if it should ever suit his new beloved, the lover will abuse an old one.30 Lysias claims lovers say these things, but provides no evidence. But even if lovers do say such things, Lysias distorts their words by applying his own twisted conception of love. Despite any short-term benefits of consorting with a lover, he says, passion inevitably fades, and acrimony will set in once a lover finds a new object for his lust. Lovers wear the vehemence of their passion as a badge of honor, yet fail to realize that, due to the periodic cyclicity of
30
" E T I 8e el SLOC TOUTO OC^LOV TOUC; epwvToo; irepl iroXXou noieZa&aiL, 6TL TOUTOIK; [icO^iaxa. cpaaiv cpiXelv wv av ep&aiv, xal £TOL(J.OI elai xal ex xwv Xoycov xal £x TWV epywv xolq aXKoic, &.KZ-/§oLvd\xzvoi xoiq epcofjivoic, jpLpiQe.OxHx.i, paSiov yvaivai., el a)a)iHj Aeyouaiv, OTL oawv av uaxepov epaa9wat.v, sxeivou? au-rwv rcepl nXelovoc, rcoi/rjaovxca, xal SrjXov OTI, sav exetvoic; Soxfj, xal Touxouq xaxak; ixo(,r]crouat.v (231cl-8).
40 love, the vehemence they consider an asset is actually a liability. Lysias assumes love is temporary, but as Socrates argues in the palinode, true love is durable, not short-lived. Lysias has it all wrong: liaisons with non-lovers, not those with lovers, are brief and exploitative. But the larger point is that Lysias's arguments stand or fall with his implicit definition of love. Paragraph 5, like paragraph 4, considers only the lover, and offers no contrast with the non-lover. Its first and third sentences are rhetorical questions. And indeed, what sense is there in squandering such an important thing on someone in a condition so awful that no one acquainted with it would even lift a hand to prevent it? For even lovers themselves concede that they act more sick than sober, and that they know they are foolish but just can't control themselves. So how could they believe once they come to their senses that the decisions they made while so disposed are just fine?31 The first question invites the natural response, "Of course it makes no sense at all," but is vague. Who is acquainted with love: a lover, a beloved, their friends, or those who have observed love's effects from a distance? They all would have some experience of love, though their experiences would vary, as would their efforts to ward love off. This argument commits petitio principii: of course no self-respecting eromenos would be willing, under such conditions, to give it up.32 But whether love truly fits this description is another question entirely— in fact, the whole point. In the second sentence, Lysias again uses the reputed statements of 31
KatToi TCC5<; eiy.bc, haxi TOCOUTOV Tcpay[j.a Trpoea&ai. T0(.auT7)v ttyovzL aujicpopav, r]v ouS' av em~)(s<Q ejeiv ^yTjaaivTo Ttepl wv OUTW Siaxeifjievoi pouAsuovcoa (231c8-d6); 32 A literal translation of Ttpoea&aa, cf. Trpoe[iivou Se aou, at 232cl. CTELSV
41 lovers themselves against them. Granted, some lovers probably do say such things, but Lysias distorts their meaning. Their statements are surely ironic or hyperbolic, and to insist on taking them literally is misleading. The third sentence's rhetorical question invites the answer, "They couldn't possibly," but it too begs the question. If love really were a form of insanity, then perhaps a lover would regret his actions upon regaining his senses. But far from constituting proof, this counterfactual conditional merely repeats paragraph 2's assertion: lovers will regret their kindnesses once they cool off. Paragraph 6 is notable because its argument does not rely on Lysias's implicit definition of love. Rather, it cites statistics, and is initially (albeit superficially) plausible. Furthermore, if you should choose the best of those in love, your selection would be from the few; however, if you should choose your partner from among the non-lovers, your selection would be from the many. Therefore, there's a much greater expectation that there will happen to be someone worthy of your friendship among the many.33 By searching only among the lovers, the listener illogically restricts his pool of choices. But by widening the scope of his search to the rest of the population, he vastly improves his chances of finding a worthy match. Certainly, if a given talent or trait is uniformly distributed, a large population will contain more examples of it than a small one. But selecting an intimate partner is special, not a quantitative matter of finding the smartest, prettiest, or wealthiest person available, but a qualitative, uniquely personal openness to a companion 33
Kocl [xsv SYJ eL JJLEV ex TWV spcjVTWv TOV [SSXTIOTOV cdpoZo, s£ oXtywv dtv aoi T) ZXKZ^IQ elr\- el &' s x xwv
aXXwv TOV aauxw sTUTTjSeioTotTov, ex TTOXXMV ware TIOXU TCXSIWV eXrdc; ev TOIC; TCOXXOII; o v r a TOV a^iov TYJ? G?IQ cpCkiaic, (231d6-e2).
xujzl^
42 whose character and personality are amenable. True love is of the soul, not the body, and even less of externals like wealth or reputation. Further, being in love is not an isolable trait like being left-handed or six feet tall, but is contextual, the result of a particular environment and set of circumstances, and is a reaction to something endearing or alluring about a particular individual. For these reasons, the statistical argument fails, despite its initial plausibility. Paragraph 7 returns to the earlier pattern of balancing praise with blame, but shifts course a bit by encouraging the auditor to fear lovers because of the social consequences of a liaison, specifically the wholly unsubstantiated spectre of a scandal. Now then, if you worry about community standards, and (since people do gossip) that you might get a reputation, it is likely that those in love—and they really do imagine that others admire them as much as they admire themselves—get excited talking, and they ostentatiously brag to everyone that their efforts were not wasted, but that those not in love, who are their own masters, will choose what is best instead of the esteem of the general public.34 Lysias begins with a tendentious caricature of lovers as vain braggarts, and combines it with the anecdotal observation that other people's sex lives are a favorite subject for those who like to gossip. But he exaggerates both points to argue that, since physical relations with lovers bear a stigma, and since lovers like to boast of their conquests, the only way to preserve a good reputation is to eschew lovers and favor non-lovers, who are discrete and trustworthy 34
EL TOLVUV TOV VOJAOV TOV xaS-eo'TYjxoTa SeSotxac;, JJLY) Tnj&o^evtov TWV av&pwTtwv ovet-Soc; aot. yevYjTGa, ely.bc, iazi TOU<; [xev epwvTa<;, OUTWC; av oio[iivou<; x a l UTCO TWV aXXwv i^YjXoucr&oa wanep auTou<; u
av9-pwirwv odpeTaSm (231e3-232a6).
43 due to their sanity and self-control. Despite a certain superficial plausibility, this argument begs the question by just assuming without proof that lovers are boastful and non-lovers discreet. Note the appearance here of the eikos argument, which plays an important role in Socrates' critique of sophistic rhetoric later in the dialogue. Paragraph 8 again balances praise with scorn, dwells on social consequences, and begins with an innocuous anecdotal truth, this time the lover's proverbial trademark of obsessively following his beloved about. And besides, people inevitably hear about and see those in love following their beloveds and making a profession of it. Consequently, whenever they are seen talking to each other, people believe either that sexual intercourse has just taken place, or else that it is about to. On the other hand, no one bothers to blame those not in love for their intercourse, since they know that it is necessary to talk to somebody, either because of friendship or for some other pleasure.35 Lysias exaggerates and distorts: even if no sex took place, those who see someone talking with a lover will assume it did, and that person's reputation will be ruined. None of this applies to non-lovers, who are sane and discreet, and so avoid detection and blame. This argument's most notable flaw is the fallacy of equivocation: it uses "intercourse" in two different senses, so that what is blamed in the lover is forgiven in the non-lover. Overall, this argument is little more than a list-item in a preposterous litany of slanderous accusations.
35
"ETL Se roue; [ikv IpcovTac; TCOXXOIK; avayxr) Ttu&scrSm x a i LSelv axoXou&ouvTtxt; xolq Ipcofiivoic; x a i ep-
yov TOOTO TCOLoufjivooc;, waxe OTCXV ocp&wai SiaXsyofj-Evot. (xXki]koiQ, TOTS OCUTOU*; OIOVTOCI. r\ yey£V7)[i,ev7)(; rj
jj,eXkoua~r]<; eaead-oii TT]<; eTufrujiioo; auveTvoci' TOU<; Se [ii\ epwvTac; ou§' oaTt-aaQ-oa §(.a TYJV cjuvoucaav Inijjec,poucn.v, ztfioxeq oxi a v a y x a i o v iaxiv r\ cka cpcXtav TW SiaXsyecrSl'oa r\ §c' OCXXTJV xtva Y]SOVT)V (232a7-b5).
44 The long but vital paragraph 9 falls in the middle of the speech, and is its very heart and soul, not just because of its position, but also for its content. Furthermore, if you have lingering fears, and believe that it's hard for friendship to last, and that, although, should a breakup occur under other circumstances the misfortune would fall to both parties mutually, since you have surrendered what you value most you will be the one seriously injured, it is natural that you would have a greater fear of those in love. For they find many things grievous, and they consider everything that happens to be a personal affront. Accordingly, they also discourage their beloveds from intercourse with others, fearing the rich lest they should surpass them in wealth, and the educated lest they should prove stronger in intelligence; and they are wary of the power of each of those who possess any other good thing. So, once they have persuaded you to dislike these men, they put you in a condition bereft of friends. And if, while examining your own affairs, you should ever be cleverer than they, you will have a falling out with them. But however many happened not to be in love, yet got what they wanted on account of personal merit, would not be jealous of those having intercourse with you, but would hate those not wanting to, believing you to be slighted by the latter, but helped by those having intercourse with you. Consequently, there's a much better chance that friendship rather than hatred will come to them because of this affair.36 Lysias again subtly contradicts his implicit eschewal of emotion by encouraging fear of lovers via slander, and trust in non-lovers via praise. Sexual passivity bears a stigma,37 he ar-
36
K a i jxev SY) el aoi 8ioq TtapEaxYjxEv Yjyoujjivw ^aXsnov elvca cpiXiav au[Apivet.v, x a l dXXw y.kv xpouw 8iacpopd<; ysvojJ.£VY)<; XOIVYJV a.\x<poxipoiq xaxaaxYjvai. XYJV aujxcpopdv, ixpoejJLevou Se crou a rcepl TtXEiaxou HOLY] iLey6Ckf]v dv aoi (3Xa(3y)v dv yEVEaSm, EIXOTGK; dv xouq Epwvxac; jiaXXov dv cpo(3olo- ixoXXa y a p auTOU<; ECTTL xd XUTIOUVXOC, x a l irdvx' £jd T7) ctuTwv pXaprj VOLU^OUCTI. ylyvea&ai- Siorcep x a l x d ;TCpo<;xouq dXXou; xwv spwfxevwv auvouoiai; dmoxpeTCOuaxv, cpojSoufi.EVoi. x o u ; \ih ooalav xexxrjpivoi><; (JLY] jpy][Laoiv txuxovq uTtspf^dXcovxai., xou; Se rcsTtai-SsufxevoiK; [XYJ auveaei xpelxxouc; ysvaivxai- xwv § S aXXo xi XSXXY][AEVCOV dyaQ-ov XYJV Suvajxiv sxdaxou cpuXdxxovxac. TlzlooLvxeq [iky ouv d^nsj^sa&on. as xovxoiq elq ept]\±La.v u u ' IXEIVCOV [AEV UTtEpopdafrai, UTXO xuv auvovxwv §e oicpeXeZa^cci, uax£ TIOXU TtXeicov IXTII; cpiXlav auxoT; EX xou 7Tpdy|xaxo<; Y) syQpoLV yeveaftai. (232b6-e2). 37 Dover, Gre& Homosexuality, 103-9; Michel Foucault, The Use of Pleasure, tr. Robert Hurley (New York:
45 gues, reporting a social norm. But he amplifies and distorts this by claiming that love affairs inevitably end, and that the beloved stands to lose the most then because the passive partner is the one who gives it up38 by yielding to the lascivious suit of the lover. He augments his caricature of lovers: they are predatory, jealous cowards who isolate and exploit their victims, avoiding at all costs the salutary influence of better men. Non-lovers, however, act out of concern for their proteges, and socialize them to become better people. But the paradoxical consequences of this argument's twisted logic go far beyond anything previous: according to Lysias, the non-lover is good because he will encourage his partner to entertain as many suitors as possible.39 This is an open endorsement of not just promiscuity, but prostitution, for the motive cited is not pleasure, but profit. Rather than the sincere friend Lysias contends he is, the non-lover turns out to be more like a pimp. This revolting discovery should remove any lingering doubts concerning the identification of the Eroticus with moral corruption.40 Paragraph 10 makes explicit what has remained implicit but been obvious all along: the lover's love is a pathological state of sexual frenzy that impairs his judgment. Furthermore, most of those in love lust after your body before they get to know your character or become acquainted with your other traits, so that it's unclear to them whether they will still wish to be friends once their lust subsides. But for those not in love Vintage Books, 1990), 187 sq. 38 See above, n. 32. 39 De Vries, ad 232d6-7, thinks courting or keeping company is meant; Rowe translates "association," but the context is clearly erotic, so it is natural to read ouvouoi and cruvovxtov sexually; see LSJ, s.v.auveifix. 40 To make matters worse, Lysias belies himself in the final paragraph of the speech by denying that he advocates promiscuity, thus adding the vice of self-contradiction to the already corrupt standard of moral depravity.
46 on the other hand, who were friends with each other even before they performed these acts, it is not likely that these acts, from which they derive such enjoyment, will diminish the friendship for them, but rather, the acts remain as pledges of what is to come.41 But interest in sex is not what distinguishes the lover from the non-lover. Non-lovers want favors too, but their desire does not compel them; rather, they make a rational decision that such pleasures would be beneficial, calculate how best to obtain them, and only then pursue them. The lover seeks a short-term, exploitative relationship with the youth, whereas the nonlover is a devoted friend with a sincere regard for his long-term advantage. This is nonsense. Lysias's repeated references to the future reveal his overall strategy of making vague promises of future benefits he has no intention of ever providing, in order to procure favors. He hopes to exploit Phaedrus's naivete and use him as a means to his own gratification. Paragraph 11 is long and diffuse, but forms one argument. Its two parts follow the pattern of contrast between censure of the lover (sentences two through four) and praise of the non-lover (the long fifth sentence). Furthermore, it is to be expected that you will improve by yielding to me rather than a lover. For lovers, on the one hand, praise the things you say and do regardless of what is best, partly because they fear being disliked, and partly because lust clouds their judgment. Here's how love shows off: he makes unsuccessful lovers consider things distressing that give others no pain, and he forces successful lovers to lavish praise on things that are not worthy of pleasure. Consequently, it is much more appropriate for 41
Kod [lev SV) TWV y.kv spcovcwv rcoXXol rcpoxspov xou adiy-ix-voq £Tt£&u(i.7)aav fj xov xportov syvwcrav xal TWV aXXtov olxeicov sjrrcsipoi sysvovxo, akrxe a§Y]Xov auxou; el zxi xoxe {iouXYjaovxoa cpiXoi elvoa, sueiSav rfjc; STU&ujAiai;roxuCTWvxaa-TOU; Se (j.?) epwat-v, ot xal upoxepov aXXvjXot.? cpiXot. ovzec, xaura supa^av, oux s£ wv av eO Tca&wai. xauxa eixo? eXaxTw TTJV cpiXLav O.UTOI<; Trot-rjaaa, aXXa xauxa jjLV7)jj.eta xaxaXsLcpQ-TJvat, TMV [i.eXX6vTa)v ecrsa&oa (232e3-233a5).
47 beloveds to pity lovers than to emulate them. But if, on the other hand, you yield to me, I'll consort with you not to serve present pleasure alone, but also future benefit; not mastered by love, but ruling myself; nor holding bitter grudges on account of trifles, but slowly developing moderate anger in response to serious offenses; forgiving involuntary wrongs and trying to prevent intentional ones; for these are proofs of a friendship that is going to last a long time.42 The first sentence appeals to the social norms governing pederastic education: ^SXTLOVL . . . yevea&at. and TO PeXxLaxov43 refer to the process of becoming a better, nobler, more aristocratic man. Real lovers were expected to educate their beloveds by serving as role models, but Lysias turns this convention on its head, and argues that the non-lover is a better tutor than the lover. The second sentence introduces some new slanderous and unsubstantiated accusations: a lover's praises are but hollow flattery, for such men will say virtually anything to get sex, and lust has ruined their judgment so they cannot make accurate statements even when they want to. The third sentence seems to pass to another point, but it is actually an integral part of the argument, as the fourth sentence draws its conclusion based on a train of thought developed from the first through third sentences. Sentence three attempts to support
42
Kal [xev SYJ (BEXTIOVI ooi TtpoaYjxsi ysvea^ac s^ol Ttsi&ofiivo) r\ spaaTTJ. 'ExsTvoi \ikv yap xai rcapa rd TS Xey6(j.s\/a xai xa 7tpaTTop.£va snoLivouaiv, TOC fj.ev 8E8I.6TS<; [rr\ aiXE^aivTai, r a 8s xal auxol jelpov Sid TTJV ETU&u^lav yiyvcoaxovrsi;. Tot-auxa yap 6 spax; ETuSslxvuxai.- SoaxuyouvTtzq [iev, a [i.7] XUTTYJV zolq aXkoiq izcupejs1' &vt,apd noizl vojuiCsiv- suxuxoovxai; 8S xal xd (JLT) r\^ov9\q &q\ia. reap' EXELVCOV STralvou dvayxd^si xuyxdvsi.v. "Qcrxs noXu ji-dXXov sXesZv -volq epu^evoiq r\ ^YJXOUV auzobq Ttpocrqxsc. 'Edv 8' iy,oi TtslQ-T], Kpwxov [AEV OU XTJV Ttapoutrav Y]8ovr]v 9-spaTteucov auveaoy.ct.L aoi, dXXd xal XYJV ^sXXouaav wcpeXiav ecreaQ-at., oux UTT' epoixoq TQXTWJASVCK; dXX' £(j.auTou xpaxcov, OI»8E 8id afxt.xpd LayupotM sy&poLV dvaipoufi,svo<; aXXa Sea fisyaXa j^paSswc; 6Xly7]v 6pyYjv KOLOU^EVOI;, xaiv [XSV axouCTtwv cruyyvw[a.7]v sxwv> T d 8S sxoucna 7rE(,p
48 the argument by presenting bogus evidence of the evils of love. Unsuccessful lovers who fail to obtain the gratification they want become upset because they feel they have been unfairly deprived of a due good. Rejection has thwarted or frustrated their morbid desire for sex. Decent people avoid such pains because they lack morbid desires. Successful lovers, on the other hand, rejoice at having satisfied their cravings, and extol the lewd pleasures they have procured. Such acts are unworthy of pursuit however, either because they do not actually give pleasure, or (more likely) because they ought not to give pleasure, that is, the acts are inherently blameworthy regardless of any pleasure they may provide.44 This line of reasoning fails because it undercuts Lysias's own argument for yielding to the non-lover. He did not write the Eroticus for a sophisticated audience, however, but to seduce the gullible. His specious condemnation of lovers invites sentence four's conclusion that they should be pitied, not emulated. The long fifth sentence summarizes the lopsided contrast between lover and non-lover, and claims the non-lover will be a better friend and mentor. Paragraph 12 raises a legitimate philosophical issue without resorting to malicious ad hominem attacks on the lover, and so is unique in the speech. So then, if you are worried that it is not possible for a strong friendship to develop unless someone is in love, you must take to heart that, if that were so, we would neither reckon our sons to be worth much, nor our mothers and fathers, nor would we have had any faithful friends, for such relationships are not the result of lust, but of other practices. 45 44
As Laws 1.636c suggests. El 8' depot ooi TOUTO TcapsaTYjxev, U>Q ovy_ olov xz LayypaM cpt-Xiocv ysvEaQm eocv [LV\ XLQ epwv xuy^avT], Iv&Ujj.eccr&ai, j_pi] OTI OUT' av TOUC; xiizZc, uepi TTOXXOU ZHOIOU\XZ§OL OUT' av TOU<; izoLxipaq xal ikq 45
49
Lysias observes that erotic love is not a necessary condition for friendship or affection, for everyone has experienced relationships based on some other motive than lust or desire.46 But this is a red herring: the real question is not whether one can find friendship without love, but whether one should grant favors to a suitor who is not in love. Despite avoiding the hackneyed contrast between lover and non-lover and being less egregious than most of the Eroticus, this short argument still fails to provide a cogent justification for yielding. Paragraphs 13 and 14 together form one argument, the longest and most complex in the speech.47 The argument is an indirect proof, the first half of which (f 13) assumes the exact opposite of the view the speech as a whole espouses. And besides, if one ought to bestow favors on the most importunate suitors, it is also appropriate in other situations to benefit not the worthiest but the neediest; for those who have been freed from the worst ills will acknowledge their debt most fully. For example, in the case of private feasts, friends are not the ones who deserve to be invited, but beggars and those who want to gorge themselves. For they will dote upon their benefactors, follow them, and hang around their doors; they will take the most pleasure, show the most gratitude, and promise them many fine things.48
y.r\x£pGLQ, OUT' av TUOTOUC; cplXouc; EXexTTj^sQa. ot oux s£ STU&ufjiiac; xoiaUTTjc; ysyovaaiv <xXX' ic\ e-cspwv ETUTYjSeufxaTcov (233c7-d4). 46 Modem usage calls the feeling for a close family member love rather than friendship, but the Greek categories were different: epox; was sexual love, but most other forms of what is today called love were cpiXla. 47 Because the argument's halves are so different, they are separated here for clarity's sake. 48 "EXL Se, el jpi] xolc, §so[j.evot,<; (j-aXiaxa ^api^eaQ-oa, rcpoavjxei xai xolc, aXkoiQ u.7) xouq fie~kxiaxo\jq aXXa xouq arcopw-cdc.Tou<; eu TCOISIV- ^eylcrcwv yap aTcaXXayevTE? xaxwv TCXEIO"T7]V X^-PLV O-UTOLC; etaovTGCI. Kal [lev SY) xal Iv xalq ISLaciq SaTcavoa? ou xobq (pl~kouq a^iov rcapaxaXelv, aXXa xobq -rcpoaaiTOUVxa.q xal TOU<; SEOjjivou? Tz~kr\a\i.o\r\q- sxsivoi yap xal dyauTjaouaiv xal axoXouaHjaouoav, xal ercl xkq 9-upac; rfeovai xal [laikiaxix. 7]0"'iW)0"0VTa(. xal oux eka.jiaxf]v X^PLV Eiaovxai xal rcoXXa aya&a aojxoZq eu^ovraa (233d5-e6).
50
This temporarily champions the case of the lover, and tries to show that doing so leads to a contradiction, though this is never quite accomplished.49 Paragraph 14 rejects the counterargument and returns to the main thesis of the speech, presumably gaining strength from discharging the indirect proof. Yet certainly it is appropriate to gratify not the desperately needy, but those most of all capable of returning the favor; not just those in love, but those worthy of the business; not just the sort who will exploit your youth, but those who will share their assets once you have matured; not those who will brag publicly once they have done their business, but the sort who will show discretion by keeping it a secret; not those who are temporarily eager, but those who intend to be constant friends throughout life; not the sort who will look for an excuse to quarrel when their lust is fading, but those who will display their own excellence once you have lost your charms.50 Paragraph 13's counterargument is a counterfactual conditional. Lysias does not mean for the antecedent to be taken as true, but only introduces it to explore its absurd implications, yet when he dismisses it, he commits the fallacy of denying the antecedent (A > B, but ~A, .\~B). The argument's form does not support this inference, for either B or ~B could follow from ~A. But Lysias does not let this deter him, and trots out his familiar litany of slanderous accusations, predictably encouraging his auditor to fear the lover and trust the non-lover. In Thompson, ad loc, points out that this is a "reductio ad absurdum—to Pagan apprehension doubtless a complete one." De Vries echoes the first part of this judgment in his note on d5, though without citing Thompson, who evidently is thinking of Luke 14:12-14. 50 'AXX' lautc, TtpoaT]XEi ou zoic,CTcpoSpao~eoy.evoLc, x.ap^ecr&ai., aXXa xolc, (j.aXiaxa datoSouvoa jj"-?lv h'uva.\xivoic,- ouSe xolc, Epwcn. (JLOVOV, aXXa zoZc, TOU nparf[i.<xxocJ o^loic,- ouSe oaoi vffi txrjc; wpac; arcoXauaovxca, diW oltiveq Tcpeapuxepo) ysvo^evw TWV acperspcov ayoc&wv peTaScoaouatv- ouSe ot Siarcpai;afievoc Tcpo<; TOU<; aXXouc; cpiXoTi^YjaovToa, aXX' olxivec, oaa^uvofj-evoi iipbc, auavxac aicoTCTjaovxac- ou8e xolc, oXiyov ypovovCTTCOUSOC^OUCTLV,dXXa TOU; 6p.oi.ax; Sia navxoq TOU (3IOU (pikoic, iaofxevotc,- ouSe o'Cxiveq Kau6[i.evo(. TTJ<; &.T:I§U\±L<£C, ey&ptxq Ttpocpao-iv ^7)T7)aouai.v, aXX' ot Ttauo"afj.£VOU r?); wpa<; TOTE TY]V auxwv ap£T7]v s7T[.Se(.^ovTai (233e6-234bl).
51 fact, though this paragraph is logically subordinate to the indirect proof introduced in the previous paragraph, it could easily stand alone, since it is the speech's most sustained and eloquent comparison of the lover's vices and non-lover's virtues, neatly balanced in successive clauses that together have a rhetorically powerful mesmerizing effect. The short paragraph 15 is the closest thing the speech has to a formal conclusion. Nowhere in the speech has Lysias ever shown that love really is a disease with the various specific symptoms he attributes to it, but he baldly asserts it ad nauseam, as though sheer repetition would somehow make it true. So you remember what I have said, and take this to heart: the friends of those in love scold them for being dissolute in their practices, but no non-lover was ever blamed by his familiars for making poor decisions about his personal affairs because of this.51 Here he merely recapitulates his established pattern of rhetorically balanced contrast: the lover is bad and to be feared, but the non-lover is good and to be trusted. This summary emphasizes blame, an issue not germane in evaluating moral worth, further illustrating that Lysias's focus is on reputation and opinion, not any real pros or cons of love itself. The vague final clause lauds non-lovers; though Lysias means it to sound impressive, he couches it in so many negatives that it is virtually unintelligible. A speech's closing should be conclusive, yet paragraph 16 is formally no conclusion
51
Zu oOv TWV xe £Lpr]fiivwv \J.E\J.V7]GO x a l sxelvo ev9-u(j.ou, OTI TOU^ JASV zp&waq ol epiXoi vou&exoucn.v
52 at all, but an afterthought. It draws extra attention to itself by introducing a new argument that makes the whole speech lopsided, raising the question of why it is there at all. Perhaps you might ask me, then, whether I advise you to bestow your favors on all those not in love. I for one do not believe that even a man in love would bid you be so disposed towards all men in love; for, if you were, the favor would neither be worth as much to the recipient, nor would it be as easy for you to hide it from the others. For there should be harm to no one from this, but benefit should accrue to both. I for one, then, consider what has been said adequate for me; but if you yearn for something you suppose was omitted, ask.52 The paragraph begins with a hypothetical question that explores the limits of Lysias's thesis, that is, whether he advocates extreme promiscuity—not just a large and varied set of sexual partners, but "all the non-lovers." No, he says, he does not expect the listener to grant favors to all, but recommends against it, since "not even a lover" would expect such a thing. He gives two reasons why promiscuity on such a scale would be inadvisable. First, recipients of the favors would not value them as highly. Not only is there an extrinsic market-based effect, whereby an increase in the supply of a commodity causes its price, ceteris paribus, to drop; but there is also an intrinsic preference-based effect, whereby demand for the favors will drop since promiscuity implies depreciation, a decline in the inherent worth or quality of goods due to use or wear. Second, it would be harder to keep such liaisons a secret, since,
52
"ICTOLX; otv ouv Ipoio [ie el antdaiv aoi Ttocpaavw xoiq \ii] epwcrc ya.piC,SG&ai. 'Eyw jiev OZ\LGLL OUS' GCV TOV epwvTa npoQ otTcavxat; ae xsXeueLV xovq epwvxai; x<xvxr\v eyevj TYJV 8t.avoi.otv- ouxz y a p T S Aau-pavov-ci japixoc, lar\Q a^iov, OUTS aoi (iouXo^svw TOU<; aKkouq XOCVTMVEIV 6[ioioiQ Suvaxov- 8eZ Se (3A<X(3Y]V [xev arc' auxou [a.TjSefi.Lav, wcpeAiocv Se djj-cpolv ytyveaQ-at.. 'Eyw [ikv ouv txava ^01 voui^oo xa elpy]y.£v<x.- el Se xi ab TtoQ-sIt;, r)you[j.£VO(; TCapaXeXetcp&aa, epwxa. (234b7-c6).
53 even under normal circumstances, people like to gossip. With increased activity, the odds of one's lifestyle being found out and publicized would increase exponentially; the gossip would become a scandal that would irreparably damage the auditor's reputation. He is left to conclude, a fortiori, that if not even a lover would ask such a thing, then surely a non-lover would never make such a preposterous request. But Lysias does not come right out and say this, since doing so would be a glaring contradiction of what he said in paragraph 9. He prefers to allow his target to draw the conclusion himself so that he will be able to deny the contradiction if called on it. He is devious down to the finest detail, and hides behind vagueness. Although he says he advises against promiscuity because intimate liaisons should be mutually beneficial and never harmful, his only real concern is not that Phaedrus might provide favors to all and sundry, but only that he provide them to Lysias himself. This argument flagrantly contradicts paragraph 9, and is a logical disaster for the speech. What is worse, it occurs in the logographically key final paragraph, indicating complete and utter failure. A speaker should want his parting shot to speak well of him, since an audience will likely remember it best. But trying to sound responsible and concerned, Lysias commits the ultimate blunder, yet does not seem to care, for he is too busy trying to hoodwink his audience. Thus, he betrays even his craft.
54 Phaedrus Raptus After reading the Eroticus, Phaedrus addresses Socrates directly, starting a conversation that leads up to Socrates' first speech. The resulting interlude steps away from the twisted world of the Eroticus, emphasizes the dialogue's narrative framework, gives Socrates a chance to criticize the Eroticus's form expressly and its thesis implicitly, and shows Phaedrus wrangling with him over a potential response.53 This section is key to understanding the dialogue, for it reveals the disposition of both interlocutors toward the Eroticus. In particular, Phaedrus's enthusiastic reaction shows that the speech has fooled him, and there is likely deliberate irony in one of the words Plato has him use to describe it, uuepcpuok;, which literally translated means overgrown, either positively, as in magnificent, soaring, or higher than the rest,54 or negatively, as in monstrous, overblown, or tumid.55 Socrates surely finds the negative sense apter, but Phaedrus, his judgment impaired by the study of sophistic rhetoric, intends it positively, and goes on to praise the speech's vocabulary, even though it is flat and unremarkable, as Socrates' speeches are soon to show by contrast. Socrates' immediate response is ironic, but not just banter, for it provides key interpretive clues. He tells Phaedrus the speech was not just uitepcpucog, but Sat,[j.ovt.co?, a stronger but no less equivocal term that can mean marvelous or even divine, but on the negative side,
53
234c-237a; only the first section bears directly on the Eroticus; the other two introduce Socrates' first speech. Cf. TT]V u(]//]AoTa"UY]v TcXaxavov at 229a8. 55 Cf. £TUTs9-o[j.(iivov at 230a5. 54
55 devilish.56 Socrates says he was astounded or blown away, exTtAaYTJvoa.57 The stylistic inferiority and moral degeneracy of the Eroticus must surely have offended his sensibilities, yet he refrains from laughing or groaning, and toys with Phaedrus, pretending to mean what he says in a positive way. But even Phaedrus senses the irony and soon calls him on it. Socrates' choice of words bears further investigation. The verb exTrXyjaao) appears four times in the Phaedrus, helping to lend the dialogue its reputed supernatural or inspired air.58 Its root meaning is to strike out of or drive away from (a TCAY)YY) being a blow, stroke, shock, or wound), but it easily picks up the metaphorical sense "to drive out of one's senses by a sudden shock" and thus to amaze or astound. Often used of fear,59 it also applies to any sudden, overpowering passion such as desire, love, or joy.60 From this range of meanings, Socrates constructs a double entendre that feigns admiration for the speech, but really indicates revulsion or shock at its poor style and base thesis, as well, perhaps, as a mock flush of lust prompted by the speech's suggestion that the time and place might be suitable for an exchange of favors.61
56
At Symposium 202d-203a, Eros is a 8atfj.cov {leyoic;, but see LSJ, s.v. 8ai[i6vioq on Hippias Major 304b. Seeing the irony of sxTrXay^vat, De Vries compares Socrates' praise of Agathon's speech, Symposium 198b. 58 Cf. 250a, 255b, and 259b; the word occurs frequently in the corpus; see White, Rhetoric, 42-44. 59 As of the Trojan charioteers' response to the battle cry of Achilles at Iliad 18.225, or in Jocasta's prayer to Apollo divulging the fears of Oedipus and his court caused by the plague at Oedipus Tyrannos 922. 57
60
61
L S J , s.v. SXTCXYJCTCTW.
At Charmides 154c, lovers are exireTtX^yjiivcx. xz xal Te&opufiYjfjivoi.; at 155d, Socrates admits his own susceptibility to a similar state: ElSov TS TOC kvxoc, TOU Ljj.aTt.ou xal ^XeYOfjjp xai OUXST' ev £{j.auTou r\v.
56 Elsewhere in the Phaedrus,62 hy.v:~kr\a<3Ui describes the experience of a soul recollecting a Form upon seeing its simulacrum in a material entity, the reaction of a beloved who discovers the depth of a lover's goodwill, and the condition of men who are so awed by the beauty of music that they forget to eat. Socrates' use of IxTrXayTJvai to name his response to Phaedrus's reading of the Eroticus thus anticipates.the very powerful emotional effects the dialogue will associate with the experience of great beauty. Socrates clarifies his remark by attributing the response to Phaedrus: he was essentially thunderstruck by his appearance. It happened while he was looking at him, and the cause was a visible quality, for Phaedrus seemed to glow, shine, or scintillate (yavuaOat,) under the speech's influence. This one-word summary of the speech's effect on Phaedrus is significant, for yavuafroa means to brighten up, be glad, or be happy, and is synonymous with Phaedrus's own name,63 as the adjective cpaiSpoi; derives from cpooc; or cpaog (light), and means bright or radiant, and by extension, glad or cheerful. Phaedrus is an allegorical character whose reaction to the Eroticus reveals the ironic aptness of his name, for he is attractive enough to have many lovers, and flashy belletristic speeches bring him incomparable joy. But yavuaSm is also the source of the name Ganymede, the boy Zeus carried off to become cupbearer to the gods, a myth Socrates refers to in his palinodic account of ideal philosophic love. This word is too
62 63
At 250a, 255b, and 259b. As De Vries, Rowe, and Brisson acknowledge in notes ad loc.
57 rare to be a coincidence, and is likely a clue that Phaedrus has somehow, literally or figuratively, been made a catamite.64 Socrates teases him here with an insult that is over his head, and lost even on most readers. Lysias has seized, abducted, and debauched Phaedrus, yet not by force or pcqc, but by seduction, TCEL&W.65 Just as Zeus stole Ganymede and conquered his body,66 Lysias has abducted Phaedrus and vanquished his mind. Lysias may not have gotten from Phaedrus any favors of the particular sort the Eroticus sought, but he has definitely seduced him into the shadowy world of sophistic rhetoric, probably also took a tuition payment from him, and seems in addition to have tricked him into accepting a false moral opinion while drawing his attention to formal devices and poetic tricks and diverting it from the study of legitimate principles of good speaking.67 This figura-
64
Some have seen a parallel between the dramatic setting on the banks of the Ilissus and the erotic relations at issue in the speeches. Anne Lebeck, "The Central Myth of Plato's Phaedrus," Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 13 (1972), claims that "The counterparts of Zeus and Ganymede in the dialogue are the philosopher Socrates and Phaedrus whose name, like ydcvoc, [sic] means 'bright'. And at 234d2-3 Socrates indulges in a play on OatSpe and yavuc&ai [sic]" (279). She also thinks the passage at 234d foreshadows the idealized erotic encounter described in the palinode (281). Nussbaum, going a bit further, claims that the palinode's "complex imagery" is evocative of a liquid, passive sexuality similar to the female experience, and that Plato wanted to valorize the sexual pleasure of the passive homosexual, 6 xwv xt-voaSwv fiioq, which he had censured at Gorgias 494e as terrible, shameful, and wretched, Secvoc; xai. alayjpoq xal a&Xiot; (Fragility, 231). The word "catamite" derives from catamitus, the Latin (via Etruscan) name for Ganymede. 65 A. Cohen, "Portrayals of Abduction in Greek Art: Rape or Metaphor?" in Sexuality in Ancient Greek Art, ed. N.B. Kampen (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 119; H.A. Shapiro, "Eros in Love: Pederasty and Pornography in Greece," in Pornography and Representation in Greece and Rome, ed. A. Richlin, (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 53-72; M.R. Lefkowitz, "Seduction and Rape in Greek Myth," in Consent and Coercion to Sex and Marriage in Ancient and Medieval Societies, ed. A.E. Laiou (Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 1993), 17-37; cf. Lysias On the Murder of Eratosthenes 32-33. 66 Homer Iliad 20.232-35 recounts the myth, but the version of Theognis 1345-48 is more directly relevant. 67 This is clear at 276b-d; Jesper Svenbro amplifies the point brilliantly in ch.10 of his Phrasikleia: An Anthropology of Reading in Ancient Greece, tr. Janet Lloyd (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1993).
58 tive rape, foreshadowed already in Socrates' and Phaedrus's discussion of the myth of Boreas and Oreithyia,68 is a disturbing example of the dangers of sophistic rhetoric. The Eroticus is bad because it presents a false opinion as true, and because it exemplifies an intoxicating, eviscerating style of speech, whose emulation has rendered Phaedrus an agent of his own moral and intellectual corruption. Socrates must now fight to save his friend from this calamity by leading him to safety along the sober path of philosophic education.
229b-d.
Chapter Three The Middle Speech This chapter studies the second of the Phaedrus 's three speeches on love,1 argues that it is a propaedeutic exercise meant to ready Phaedrus for subsequent, more advanced lessons, and that it represents a partial ascent from the immorality and incogency of the Lysian speech analyzed in the previous chapter. The middle speech clarifies and transforms the Eroticus to make its corrupt thesis more persuasive while also making it an easier target for refutation. Socrates eventually retracts it as a whole, but implicitly retains several elements that return later in the dialogue. To appeal to audiences of varying sophistication and preparation, the speech has different levels of meaning that clash at certain points to provoke reflection among perceptive readers, effectively challenging them to philosophize.2 The speech's overt sense is readily apparent without appeal to hidden themes, but several clues intimate a deeper level that may hold the key to a fuller understanding of the speech and its role in the dialogue. This chapter investigates these clues to show how the middle speech supports the dialogue's message about the philosophic cure of moral corruption. From the standpoint of formal rhetorical technique, the middle speech is an obvious improvement on the Eroticus. After an extended introduction that is really three separate in1
This is the first of Socrates' two speeches answering the Eroticus, but unique titles are clearer than numbers as names for the speeches. For the title "middle speech" in particular, see M. Brown and J. Coulter, "The Middle Speech of Plato's Phaedrus," Journal of the History of Philosophy 6 (1968): 217-31, repr. in Plato: True and Sophistic Rhetoric, ed. K. Erickson (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1979), 239-64. 2 The overt meaning is what Phaedrus or a casual reader might be expected to gather from hearing or reading the speech. The deeper meaning is accessible to those who read slowly, reflect deeply, and engage with the text dialectically. Brown and Coulter, 248, note a similar idea in passing.
59
60 traductions nested together, Socrates presents a simple scheme of moral psychology and uses it to explain some standard vices, then abruptly defines love as a vice. After a brief interlude, he completes the speech by using his definition to argue that lovers harm the mind, body, and estate of those they pursue, are disgusting to be with, and that a young person should associate instead with a non-lover, whose sanity will make him a better mentor and companion. Socrates' use of a definition to organize and develop the Lysian thesis anticipates his later enjoinder of the process as a sine qua non of good speech,3 and is the chief cause of the middle speech's formal superiority to the Eroticus. Yet despite these improvements, serious logical flaws mar the speech, showing that technical mastery is not only insufficient for good speaking, but that, in the wrong hands, such devices are prone to abuse and deceit. To its credit, the speech rises above the sheer egoistic hedonism of the Eroticus by distinguishing judgment from desire and lauding restraint as morally superior to licentiousness, but it reaches the wrong conclusion because it upholds the immoral Lysian thesis and fails to provide a rigorous philosophic analysis of the question it addresses. Despite some mitigating virtues, the speech is corrupt, for it offers a slanderous caricature of love and gives ruinous advice. To suggest that structural and stylistic devices are no substitute for truth and probity, even for an exceptionally skilled speaker, Socrates mines the middle speech with subtle hints that anticipate doctrines he develops in the palinode and subsequent discussion.
At 263a-e.
61 The purpose and structure of the middle speech are explained right at the start: Since the question confronts you and me, whether one should prefer to cultivate friendship with a man in love or with one who isn't, let's inquire whether love is beneficial or harmful while focusing on and referring to a definition of its characteristics and effects that we have first posited by agreement.4 Once love is defined, the question is repeated: "what benefit or harm will in all likelihood befall one who does favors for a man in love or a man who isn't?"5 The speech's answer to the question is clear: "A lover will not freely tolerate a darling who is superior or on a par with him, but constantly manipulates him to be worse and inferior."6 This point gets repeated and elaborated substantially, but here already is the speech's chief aim, to show that lovers are "the cause of great harm."7 The speech's eventual answer to the Lysian dilemma, that one "should never have granted favors to a man in love and blinded by need, but much more, should have done it for one not in love and possessing reason"8 is the same answer the Eroticus gave, "one should favor a non-lover rather than a lover."9 The argument is clearer, but the position remains unchanged, so this speech is morally just as bad as the Eroticus. Nevertheless, the middle speech offers three unmistakable clues that Socrates is fully
4
'ETTSLSY) GOL xal £y.o\. 6 X6yo<; irpoxeixai. Tcoxepa epGvTt. yj (XT) y.SXkov etc, cpiXiotM ITEOV, rcepl epwrcx; olov i' ecrci xal 7]v eyei Suvafjiiv, 6[i.oXoyla 9-efi.evoi. opov, etc, TOUTO dTcofSXeirovTEc; xal dvacpepovxsc;, TY)V <jy.e\jJ^r\Gzxa.i (238el-2). 6 OUTS SYJ xpeixxw OUTS Laoup.£vov exwv epaaTT)<; rcaaSixoc ave^exai., TJTTCO 8E xal uTcoSeeaxepov ael dmepya^eTai (239al-3). 7 MeyaXYjq aaxiov sZvat. ^Xa^Yjq (239b2-3). 8 Oux apa sSsi. TCOTS spcovTi xal UTC' dvdyxYjc; avovjTw ya.plZ,ZG$a.i, aXXaTCOXUfiaXXov \rr\ spwvui. xal vouv ijpvxi (241b7-cl). 9 'Q.q jjxpiaxiov p.7) IpwvTt fi.aXXov r\ spwvTL (227c7-8).
62 aware of the truth about erotics, and that he is preparing Phaedrus for the palinode and for philosophy.10 First, its conclusion contains open praise for the soul and its education, and elevates these to the rank of cardinal human concerns, anticipating passages in the palinode and final discussion, and so introducing a central theme of the dialogue. Second, the main argument lauds philosophy, and describes it as the absolute best thing for the development of the intellect, a point clearly ill-suited to a seduction speech, but consonant with later parts of the dialogue and with the Socratic spirit. Third, the definition lauds restraint, sophrosyne, as the rule of rational opinion leading a moral agent to do what is right. This contradicts the ostensive motive of the speech, which is to undermine restraint in order to procure inappropriate favors, but as with the two previous points, by appealing to values with both popular and philosophic resonance, Socrates seems to advance the non-lover's suit while in fact pointing the way to an external frame of reference that firmly rejects it. The speech drops these three points in passing, but does not develop them. The imaginary seducer Socrates is impersonating may merely be paying lip service to morality to establish his ethos, but at least he is reaching out beyond the speech to appeal to a fixed frame of reference, and Lysias did neither. Yet the three points clash so deeply with the rest of the speech, and imply Platonism so strongly, that it is natural to take them as clues to a hidden meaning.
10
Strictly speaking, it is inaccurate to say that Socrates' speeches present false and true accounts, respectively, of a single subject, "love." He explains (265a sq.) that the speeches together provide a full account of love by taking its good and bad forms as two species of one genus, "madness." The problem is really one of homonymy (6(i.wvup.a . . . 6[JLWVU[JLOV, 266a), which Aristotle identifies as a chief source of fallacious reasoning {On Sophistical Refutations 165b26-28), and of sophistic mischief in particular {Rhetoric 1404b37-39).
63 Besides these hints, the speech uses at least two kinds of fallacious reasoning: red herring, upon which the main argument is squarely built, and faulty analogy, which affects the definition. The rest of this chapter takes these five points (three hints plus two fallacies), analyzes the text containing each one, and cites them all as evidence that the middle speech is a propaedeutic exercise intended to help Phaedrus begin to philosophize, a reading that supports the idea that the dialogue is a case study in the philosophic cure of moral corruption.
Three Signs of Truth A key indication that Socrates has deeper knowledge of the truth about erotics than is overtly reflected in the middle speech is his praise for education of the soul. The long first paragraph of the conclusion, clearly echoing the first point of the Eroticus, that "lovers regret the kindnesses they have shown once their lust subsides,"11 sums up the bad effects of love by focusing on the aftermath or consequences of love, the fate that befalls the parties after the lover's love fades. The lover was bad enough while his love endured, but once he has satisfied his desire to enjoy a beautiful body, his behavior deteriorates dramatically. Cold and sober, he is no longer in love, and has forgotten his extravagant promises, which were worthless to begin with. The moral of the story, as the victimized beloved chases after the erstwhile lover, is that lovers are harmful, disgusting, and not to be trusted, and that non-lovers, by implication, make better mentors because they do not share these defects. Despite the obvious
11
'Q,Q ixeivoiQ \ikv TOTS [LEX<x\i£kzi wv av eO noir\au)aiv, enet-Sav Tt\q im&uploLqrcauatoVTca(231a2—4).
64 lack of moral improvement, the paragraph's final sentence hints at something greater, for, camouflaged by an enumeration of the lover's vices, it includes a brief encomium to the human soul that anticipates the palinode's fuller account. [The lover is] a man faithless, cranky, jealous, disgusting, harmful to estate, harmful to physique, and most harmful of all to the education of the soul, than which there is in truth nothing more worthy of honor among men or gods, nor will there ever be.12 This elevated sentiment clashes with the ostensibly scurrilous aim of the speech, and is in fact superfluous to the point being made, which merely requires recapitulation of the earlier tripartition of goods to summarize the claim that lovers are harmful. Something is amiss. Taken as a serious attempt to persuade its audience of the anti-erotic thesis, the speech must be seen as trying to disguise its immoral position as a moral one by making a show of appealing to recognized values to justify its argument. This strategy illustrates one of the guidelines for skillful speaking that Socrates lays down in the discussion, that is, effective deception requires knowledge of the truth so that one can lead his audience away from that truth toward some false proposition by steps small and subtle enough to avoid detection.13 Socrates does not really want to deceive Phaedrus, but needs an example of how a skilled speaker might go about doing such a thing to show by contrast how devoid of such skill the Eroticus was. His use of a philosophic commonplace to discover rhetorical arguments shows that he retains a
12
Amcr-ccp, SuaxoXw, cp&ovepw, dojSel, (SXccftepw y.kv 7ipo<; o u a i a v , (SXa^epw SE 7ipo<; rr]v TOU awfjux-coc;
S^LV, TCOXU §£ (3Xa(3epcoTaTco irpo<; TT]V xy\Q <\ivyy\S TcoaSeucrr.v, i\q OUTE av&pcouoL^ OUTS %eolc, xyj aX^O-eia TL(i.I.COTepoV OUTS SOTIV OUTS TTOTS ECTTtXl ( 2 4 1 c 2 - 6 ) . 13
261a-262c; for a discussion of this passage, see below, ch. 5.
65 grasp of his faculties despite his claims of possession. What he says about the soul recalls his usual concerns14 and anticipates a major theme of the palinode and final discussion, yet his appeal here is not simply to soul, but to education of the soul, a key element of the dialogue's argument about philosophic education as a cure for moral corruption. Another key indication that Socrates has deeper knowledge of the truth about erotics than is overtly reflected in the middle speech is his praise for philosophy in the main argument, whose chief strategy is to introduce a tripartition of goods (mind, body, and property), and then show that a lover harms his beloved in all three. Following his previous point closely, Socrates begins the paragraph on intellectual goods by insisting that the definition of love he has just given logically entails jealousy, for jealous isolation, keeping the beloved away from better men, is one more way to ensure his inferiority. He must be really jealous, and by isolating the beloved from the many other beneficial forms of intercourse that would especially make a man of him, he is the cause of great harm; but the greatest harm is his isolation from what would make him the most sensible. And this, it just so happens, is divine philosophy, something the lover, paranoid to avoid disdain, must keep his darling far, far away from. And in other matters, he must contrive the beloved's complete ignorance and utter dependence on the lover so as to make him as pleasing to the lover and as harmful to himself as possible. To be sure, where intellectual development is concerned, a man suffering from love is by no means advantageous as a guardian and companion.15
14
E.g., Apology 30b; Laws 3.697b; 5.726a. <59ov£p6v SYJ dvdyxr] elvoa xal noXXiov y.kv dXXtov auvouaxtov drcelpyovTa xal (J^eXl^wv, 6&ev av ti.aXt.cTT' dv/)p yiyvoi/ro, fisydXTjc; aiTiov elvoa (3Xd(3rj<;, [ieyiaxi]Q Se v?j<; o&ev av
66
The lover bars his beloved from philosophy, for it is the best pursuit or educational system for improving the mind and so might help the latter learn the truth about erotic choice and alternatives to crude hedonism. In a real seduction speech, direct praise for philosophy might be contrived disingenuously to establish the speaker's ethos and to make the speech seem to draw on recognized values, but here it's deeper purpose is to create a kind of dissonance to draw its audience toward philosophic inquiry,16 and to underscore a key element of the dialogue's message about the anti-corruptive power of philosophic education. Socrates thus subtly identifies corruption with seduction and rhetoric, and offers philosophy as its antidote. Anything that might improve the beloved's mind is off-limits, since it would thwart or frustrate the (bad) lover's efforts to corrupt it. This paragraph's repeated appeals to necessity (avdcyxY], "must") stress logical dependence on the definition of love (the attributes deduced from it do indeed follow), and also hint at the notion of "erotic necessity." In general this is an excellent way to organize a speech, but here the definition rests on a bogus etymology and fallacious analogy, so that, as in the Eroticus,17 conclusions based on it are unsound. A third key indication that Socrates has deeper knowledge of the truth about erotics than is overtly reflected in the middle speech is his praise for sophrosyne in the definition of love. The Eroticus and middle speech both use virtue and vice as topics for comparing lovers
Similarly, the Eroticus used innuendo to try to stimulate a desire for unmentionable acts. The definition remained implicit in the Eroticus. See ch. 2.
67 with non-lovers, and they agree that lovers embody vice and non-lovers virtue, yet they make the point in markedly different ways. The Eroticus attributes a series of virtues and vices to the two figures almost haphazardly as it goes along, whereas the middle speech makes the same point once comprehensively at its outset by defining love as a species of hubris. A very serious vice, hubris is one of two opposing natures, Suo xivi iSea, that govern human conduct, the other being sophrosyne. This moral dichotomy is a major theme of the dialogue: the word sophrosyne appears in it seventeen times in various forms, mostly in the palinode, but once in the Eroticus, twice in the middle speech, and twice in the discussion, and hubris appears eight times, twice in the middle speech and six times in the palinode. The significance of hubris and sophrosyne as terms of both popular and philosophic opprobrium and approbation cannot be exaggerated. Hubris (hybris, vfipiq) is wanton violence arising from pride, and the accompanying state of mind—insolence, arrogance, or, probably the best translation in the present context, licentiousness, a contemptuous attitude that presumes superiority or impunity and flouts norms of due respect and reasonable conduct. As an Athenian legal term, it indicated aggravated personal assault, and was considered a serious crime against society, not just the immediate victim. Often hubris had sexual connotations, especially in cases of rape or seduction when the offender's motive was not pleasure, but a desire to humiliate or belittle the victim. The term had a wide variety of applications, literal and metaphorical, from playful taunt to
68 serious forensic accusation, and has received considerable scholarly attention.18 Restraint (sophrosyne, cr&xppocruv/]) is the character or conduct of a sound-minded person. Often rendered as temperance, moderation, or self-control, English has no exact equivalent for the term. The translation "restraint" seems apt in light of the palinode's vivid portrayal of the operation of sophrosyne in the human soul, but still lacks the Greek sense of an active power or vital force. In the early dialogue Charmides, Socrates considers five tentative definitions of sophrosyne (quietness, modesty, minding one's own business, doing good deeds, and self-knowledge), but rejects them all. The term is perhaps best known for its role in the Republic, where Socrates defines it as a harmony in the soul whereby reason and desire agree, respectively, to rule and obey each other, and points out that it excludes the pursuit of excessive pleasures, particularly the sort implicit in the Lysian quest for favors.19 The middle speech showcases the commonplace dichotomy between hubris and sophrosyne.20 Since restraint is a cardinal virtue, hubris and its various species must be serious vices, so the speech is bluntly classifying love itself as a vice, a position that seems even more extreme than that of the Eroticus. Since the middle speech's aim is to vilify love, it de-
18
See e.g. D. Cohen, "Sexuality, Violence, and the Athenian Law of Hybris," Greece and Rome 38 (1991): 169-88; N.R.E. Fisher, Hybris (Warminster: Aris and Phillips, 1992); K.J. Dover, Greek Homosexuality, 34-39; Aristotle defines the term at Rhetoric 2.2.5-7. Hubris is already an English word, so the transliterated form hybris is not used here; sophrosyne has not come into English directly, so it is treated differently. 19 Republic 3.402e-403c; 4.430d-432a; 442c-d; etc., whence sophrosyne enters the stream of Western thought as the name of one of the four cardinal virtues; see, e.g., Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Ia-IIae, Q. 61. 20 Already considered polar opposites by Theognis, 379, a poet Plato clearly read with interest (Meno 95c sq.); the opposition is clear in Xenophon Cyropaedia 8.4.14; Aristophanes Clouds 1068-82; Thucydides 3.84.1; Isocrates 8.119; cf. Philebus 45d-e; Laws 8.849a; 10.906a.
69 votes less attention to sophrosyne than to hubris, expressly subdividing only the latter, but for each form of hubristic self-indulgence, one may readily imagine a parallel form of restraint. So, consonant with the middle speech's overt claim that hubris can be distinguished by its objects into gluttony, drunkenness, and love, sophrosyne should likewise be divisible according to those same objects into three virtuous conditions of the soul, restraint regarding indulgence in the pleasures of food, drink, and sex. In the palinode, Socrates suggests that restraint does not entail complete abstinence from objects of sensible desire, and allows moderate indulgence in these three natural, necessary pleasures subject to the rule of reason. All three of the clues examined in this section are the result of Socrates inserting a genuine moral value (education of the soul, philosophy, sophrosyne) into the heart of a corrupt argument to render it paradoxical. Diligently working out the consequences of honoring these values would show that they contradict the argument that contains them, so the clues in effect witness Socrates using fallacious reasoning to intimate moral error, distance himself from the position he is advancing, and subliminally prepare Phaedrus for the healthier moral vision of the palinode. To supplement its intimation of the material falsity of the Lysian thesis, this speech provides some formal clues too.
Red Herring in the Main Argument In the main argument of the middle speech, Socrates argues that lovers are harmful to justify advising rejection of their suits. Marred by a false premise and fallacious form how-
70 ever, this two-page-long argument is neither sound nor valid.21 A speaker intent on teaching his audience the truth would never dare use such arguments, but one aiming to confuse it long enough to extract benefits and then flee would, and should be blamed for doing so. Lysias peppered his speech with anecdotal claims about the dangers of love, but did not clearly cite harm as a general reason to avoid lovers, or try to prove that the various dangers he cited would necessarily accrue to all who favor lovers, so the middle speech is a slight improvement in this regard, though it could also be argued that technical improvements that make an immoral speech more persuasive actually make it worse from a moral standpoint. The main argument's chief fallacy, red herring, is most obvious in the subargument ostensibly detailing harm to the beloved's body, but it also taints the paragraph on mental harm, and to a lesser extent the one on harm to property. Aside from quoting the dilemma twice, the speech has studiously avoided directly addressing the question it must answer until now so it could first lay a solid foundation for doing so. Paragraph 8 states that deliberation, and thus a methodical answer to the Lysian dilemma, is now possible because a definition is available for reference. This approach is exactly opposite that of the Eroticus, which repeated its answer to the dilemma and adduced short, faulty arguments in each paragraph. Paragraph 9 explains the strategy to be used in arguing that lovers (and thus love) are harmful, and so introduces the following three paragraphs, the argument proper. The lover is
21
238d9-240e7.
71 harmful, not helpful, and the harm he does is intentional, not accidental. He makes it his business to ruin the beloved in every possible way, since that is the only way he can maximize his pleasure. This all follows from the definition of love as an innate desire for pleasure that conquers rational judgment of what is best. Best in this case should be what contributes to the long-term welfare or happiness of the beloved, but since the lover's goal is pure maximization of his own pleasure, and since any improvement or virtue in the beloved detracts from this goal, the lover will go out of his way to avoid doing or allowing anything beneficial to his victim. In effect, Socrates has already cooked the notion that love is fundamentally inimical to the welfare of the beloved into his definition, so now he needs only to unpack it to show that a lover ought to be rejected in favor of a non-lover. I suppose it's essential for a man who is ruled by desire and enslaved by pleasure to cultivate the beloved to be as pleasing as possible to him. To a sick man, anything that does not defy him is pleasant, but anything that is stronger or equal is odious to him. A lover will not freely tolerate a darling who is superior or on a par with him, but constantly manipulates him to be worse and inferior.22 Despite its basis in the given definition, this argument is already on thin ice at its outset for citing "necessity," a hollow, hackneyed justification. The lover's rash, single-minded pursuit of gratification suggests the necessity is primarily contingent: if X is the only means to Y, and if he desires Y, then he must do X. The necessity becomes absolute only if the end is presupposed and included in the idea of what it is to be a lover. The notion that the lover should 22
\mo £Tti&u[iia<; ap^ofxevco SOUXSUOVTL TS Y)§OVTJ, avayxT)TCOUTOV £pw(i.evov &>q 7]Sc.arov eaurw irapaaxeua^eiv VOCTOUVTI &e Ttav 7]§u TO [n.r\ avTiTelvov, xpelTTov §e xal loov 1^8-pov. Ouxe Srj xpsiTTco OUTS LffoufiEvov exwv Epao"TT]<; ircaScxa avs^exai, T]TTW §e xal uiroSeeaxepov ael dbrspya^eToa (238e3-239a3). TM ST)
72 cultivate, arrange, or fix the beloved up to suit his own pleasure is a paradoxical twist on the ideal of the pederast as a tutor .supposed to improve or educate the one in his charge. But love, by definition now, harms the beloved: the lover ruins him rather than improving him as per the conventional wisdom. Ruin is synonymous with corruption: the speech argues that love has a corrupting influence, and that lovers are corrupters, since only by corrupting his beloved can a lover secure the pleasure he desires. No evidence substantiates this claim, but the definition is so compelling that proof is not required for persuasion. Moderate amounts of physical pleasure actually are compatible with mental, physical, and financial improvement, but despite its lip service to sophrosyne, the speech is not truly concerned to inculcate restraint, or morality at all for that matter, but is single-mindedly bent on seduction, so the corrupting influence that it attributes to lovers is actually its own. The last sentence boldly asserts that lovers cannot tolerate any challenges from a beloved, but must always feel superior, and so avoid doing anything to help him improve and even try actively to make him worse. As long as the beloved is subservient and weak, he is easy prey for the lover's predatory advances, but he is harder to control if he is better than the lover in any way, so he must be kept inferior if the lover is to maximize his pleasure. This turns the educational ideal on its head, since teachers should want their students to become better, and eventually to surpass them in excellence. But this Lysian-inspired Socrates is not trying to portray pederasty as a benign educational institution, he is vilifying it with a disin-
73 genuous (but one hopes intentionally transparent) inverted caricature. The next passage begins to develop the general argument about harm by implicitly introducing a tripartition of goods to show more specifically how lovers harm their beloved victims, and begins a series of three short subarguments that treat in turn the mental, physical, and external effects of relations with lovers. The general strategy is to show that lovers harm their beloveds in all three areas, a commonplace triplet intended roughly to exhaust the idea of goods.23 The tripartition is noteworthy for subtly foreshadowing the palinode's tripartite moral psychology. Curiously, Socrates does not announce this tripartition, but just plunges in to the first part, which focuses on harm to the beloved's mind. He gives four examples of pairs of character types distinguished by the respective inferiority and superiority of their mental faculties, then jumps to the outrageous conclusion that the list expresses native weaknesses in the beloved that the lover will exploit en route to cultivating further flaws. Now an ignoramus is worse than a sage, a coward is worse than a hero, a mute is worse than an orator, and a dullard is worse than a genius. Because so many flaws are naturally present in the mind of the beloved and still more are emerging, the lover must enjoy the former, but cultivate the latter, or be robbed of his momentary pleasure.24 Though it seems a bit silly, this strategy is supposedly necessary if the lover hopes to satisfy his desire for pleasure. Rowe notes ad loc. that this generally restrained speech gets carried away by its own eloquence here, yet there is more to it, for the rhetorical excess hides a fatal 23
Gorgias 506d; Slid; Laws 3.697b; 5.743e; 9.870b; Aristotle Ethics 1.1098bl2-14; Politics 7.1323a24-27. $e dpiaih^.cTCKpou, SetX6<; avSpeiou, aSuvaTOi; elmZv pY]Topi,xou, (3pa8u<; ay^ivou. TOCTOUTWV xaxwv xoct ETL uAeiovcov xaxa TT)V Siavocav epaa-ajv epwfxsvw dcvayxT] yiyvofjivtov xe xal cpuaet. svov-uwv TWV ji.ev 7]Secr9-oa, TOC Se Ttapacrxsua^siv, r\ arepea&ai TOU Tcapautixa r]8eo<; (239a3-8). 24
"HTTWV
74 logical error, introduction of the fallacious strategy used throughout the main argument whereby native flaws of the beloved are substituted for injuries the speech set out to ascribe to the supposedly ruinous influence of the lover. In other words, Socrates introduces a red herring that he exploits to varying extents in the three subarguments of the main argument. He avoids exclusive reliance on the fallacy in the present subargument by citing jealous isolation that supposedly keeps the beloved away from philosophy. This accusation is not substantiated, but would, if true, indicate an active cause of harm, so it provides the main argument's only concrete claim. But aside from this, the paragraph is exceedingly vague, and offers no evidence of any sort. Relying solely on the probable account, what is ely.6q or likely based on the definition given, it pretends to show something it does not, and so, even when the unsubstantiated but intelligible accusation of jealous isolation is taken into consideration, it is still fallacious. Next he turns to the second species of good, bodily or physical health. Socrates indicates in the first sentence that he intends to show that a lover's company harms the beloved's body, though as in the previous example, the argument he supplies is woefully fallacious. Next it is crucial to see what kind of physical condition one who is compelled to pursue what is pleasant before what is good will promote, and how he will train the one he hopes to instruct. He will be seen pursuing someone effeminate, not rugged; someone raised not in pure sunlight, but under dappled shade; someone by manly labors and harsh sweat untried, but familiar with a delicate, unmanly regimen; someone bedecked with make-up and jewelry for lack of his own proper complexion; and he follows these practices with as many others, all of which are obvious and not worth enumerating further. But it will be fine, after establishing one main point, to go on to
75 another: a physique like this, in war and other equally dire straits, emboldens enemies, but worries friends and even lovers themselves.25 As in the previous subargument, the lover looks for natural weaknesses in the beloved to exploit en route to inculcating new ones. This paragraph purports to describe the supposedly ruinous training lovers provide, but the rather long middle sentence is really nothing more than a laundry list of defects that lovers supposedly seek in potential victims, and it fails to show any causal relation between a lover's attentions and the various faults listed. The only possible place that a description of the lover's effect on his beloved might lurk is in the vague final clause that refers to things not worth mentioning, a threadbare tactic. If "he" refers to the lover, then the things to follow would be his curriculum, which would be a vital detail in any serious argument, yet the point is not developed. More likely, "he" refers to the beloved, so that the list consists of nothing but native flaws possessed already before any encounter with the lover, so the insinuated argument is not present, a serious flaw. It does not matter at all whether "a physique like this" encourages or discourages friends or enemies, because this is not a relevant consideration. Not only has the argument failed to show what it set out to, viz., that lovers harm their beloveds, but it in fact presents no evidence at all, strong or weak,
25
TV)v 8e TOO Gbiy-axoc, e£iv xz xal 9-epairslav, ooocv xz xal &>q Q-epaKeucrei ou av yev/jToa xvpioq, o<; rjSu npo ayaQ-ou Y]vayxaarai. St-coxeiv, 8eZ \xexa. r a u r a iSetv. 'Ocp9-Y]cxeTai SYJ fj.aA-9-axov xiva xal ou crcepsov Sicoxwv, ouS' Iv ~t]kLu> xa&apw Ts9-pafj.jj.svov aXAa UTCO au[i\iiyzZ axta,TCOVWVfj.ev avSpeicov xal LSpwicov ^Y)pc5v aireipov, ey.nzipov 8e airaXYJt; xai avavSpou 8ia.iXY\q, oiXkoxpLoiq yp(Ay.<xai xal y.6a\j.oiq jy]xzi (Hxetwv xocTji.oufj.evov, oaa xz aAAa XVOXOIQ znsxaa Ttavxa STaxYjSeuovTa, a SvjXa xal oux a^cov Tcepat.tspw Tcpo^alveLv, aXka. Iv xscpaXaiov 6pia<x\j.e,vouc, in' aAAo levoa- xb yap TOCOUTOV aS>[ia ev no~kz\j.<x> xz xai aXkcuic, yjpzla.iQ oaai fjLsyaXai, oi \jkv e^Opol Oappouat-v, oi Se cplXot. xal auxol ol spaaxal cpo(3ouvxoa (239c3-d6).
76 of any typical or necessary effects accruing to a beloved on account of time spent in the company of a lover, and so it is beside the point, utterly irrelevant to the stated objective of establishing whether love is helpful or harmful. The next subargument turns to the third species of goods, externals, and pretends to argue that a lover will harm his beloved by depriving him of family and property, but like the two previous subarguments, makes no serious attempt to deliver. This must surely be let go as obvious. What must now be discussed, though, is what profit to us or what harm concerning possessions the company and guardianship of the man in love will provide. It is really very clear to all, and most of all to the lover, that he would wish before all else for the beloved to be bereft of the dearest, kindliest, and divinest possessions, for he would gladly accept his being deprived of father, mother, kinsmen, and friends, since he believes they will obstruct or scold the most pleasurable kind of intercourse with him. Well then, if he owns property, either money or any other possessions, a lover will believe him to be neither as easy to catch nor tractable once caught. Accordingly, the lover simply must resent darlings who possess property, and delight in their bankruptcy. Yet further, the lover would wish that the darling remain single, childless, and homeless as long as possible, in order to collect interest on his sweet desires as long as possible.26 The passage is clear enough in suggesting ways that a lover could in theory harm his beloved, that is, by depriving him somehow of his family, friends, and property. But these are little more than suggestions, since they are presented as wishes of the lover, never as actual 26
TOUTO fiev ouv u>q SrjXov SOCTSOV- TO §' ecpe^rj<; pYjTeov, xlva. Yjp.iv cocpsAtav rj TIVOC (JX<X(3Y|V rcepl TYJV XTYJCTIV Y) TOO ip&vxoq 6[Likla. TS x a l knixponeicn Ttaps^eTai. Sacpe? SY) TOUTO ye TTOCVTI (JLEV, y-aXiaxa. Se TO spaCTTY), OTI TWV cpcXTocTuv Ts x a l suvouaTaTaw x a l Q-ecoTaTcov xTY]fi.aT(ov dpcpavov ixpo iravTcx; eu^oLix' av elvau TOV Ipwjjievov- naxpoc, y a p x a l (i.Y)Tpo<; x a l ffuyyevaiv x a l cplAwv oxspea&oii av aircov S e ^ a i r o , ScaxtoAuTocc; x a l tnixi[j.i]xac; Y)you[j.£Vo<; TYJ<; Y)81O-TY)<; npoc; auxov oy.i'kia.i;. AAAa (J.YJV oualav y ' ejovxcn ^puaou YJ rt,vo<; a.Xk7)q XTVjaeug, OUTS euaXcoxov 6[Lolu>q OUTS aAovTa eufAeTa^eLpiciTov YjyYjaETai. 'El; wv ruaaa dvayxY] £pao"TY]v irai
77 faits accomplis. He would "wish before all else," and he would "gladly accept" the various social injuries based on a belief, which is only conjectural because it is based on a likely account, which is based in turn on a bogus definition of love. In other words, all of this is extremely tenuous, to say the least. The argument is no better when it turns to property: the lover "will believe," he must "resent" or "delight," and he again "would wish." The argument is nothing more than an unsubstantiated claim that lovers prefer destitute victims because they are easier to gull into providing favors, and that the lover is a predator who shies away from vigorous, healthy specimens. Even if true, this does not at all show how the lover will ruin or corrupt his charge, but merely indicates a desire that the beloved's natural weaknesses be preserved as long as possible. As did the two before it, this subargument fails to prove that lovers ruin their beloveds, but instead substitutes conjectural assertions based on a likely account derived from a definition of love designed to support this negative caricature. The main argument preserves the unsubstantiated question begging of the Eroticus, but, because its pseudo-arguments are irrelevant to its stated objective of establishing that lovers cause harm, it adds the fallacy of red herring.
False Analogy and Hasty Generalization in the Definition of Love Paragraphs 4, 5, and 6 of the middle speech develop and present a monolithic definition of love that is intended to be rhetorically impressive, and therefore persuasive. It is false however, and with a flourish glosses over fine points that would reveal its falsity. It is de-
78 signed solely for the purpose of supporting Lysias's immoral thesis, and is utterly devoid of concern for the truth. Paragraph 4, the first third of the definition, gives the genus of love, then moves swiftly to delineate a basic scheme of moral psychology. For one thing, it is clear to all that love is a desire. On the other hand, we know that even men who aren't in love desire fair youths. So how do we tell the difference between the man in love and the man who isn't? Again, one must understand that there are two ruling and leading natures in each of us, which we follow wherever they may lead: the first is an innate desire for pleasures, and the other is an acquired opinion that aims for what is best. Sometimes these parts of us agree, but other times they quarrel, and sometimes the one rules, but sometimes the other. So when opinion uses reason to lead us to what is best and rules us, this rule is called restraint; but when desire irrationally drags us to pleasures and dominates in us, this dominion is named hubris.27 Love and desire are not synonymous as in the Eroticus, but the former is a species of the latter, which is its genus. Socrates states this outright as though it were not controversial, though nothing exempts it self-evidently from dispute. The fact that he draws the distinction makes the speech overtly more coherent than the Eroticus, but bears no necessary connection whatsoever to truth. To begin with, the speech never tries to establish that everyone actually believes this, but merely asserts it. But even if everyone does believe that love is a kind of desire, citing this as evidence is fallacious, and may best be described as the fallacy of argumentum e consensu gentium, though argumentum ad numerum and appeal to belief are possi-
27
"Oxt, (ji£V OOV 8YJ em&ujjtxa xiq 6 epu<;, catavxi. SYJXOV- OXI 8' au x a l \rt\ spuvxec; ITUTHJ^OUCTI. TWV xaAwv, 1-CTJJLSV- xw SYJ XOV spaivxa xs x a l fnf) xpi.voup,sv; Ast au voTJuoa oxi r)[j.wv ev sxaaxco Suo xt-ve saxov l8sa ap^ovxe x a l ayovxs, olv sirofi.s&a fj av ayYjxov, r\ \ikv, s[x
79 ble names for it too. Even if everyone does believe it, it is not necessarily true. Love could turn out to be something entirely different—recollection, say—in which case the entire middle speech would be unsound because it would have a false premise. Socrates suggests what the object of the desire is in the next sentence: even nonlovers erct-ikifjiouCTi TCOV xaAoov, desire beautiful youths.28 This raises a question the Eroticus did not answer or even address: if both lover and non-lover desire favors, what moral difference is there between them? Socrates tries to answer this question by introducing two natures or principles in the human psyche that govern behavior; depending on which one rules, conduct is morally good or bad. This solution does not try to identify specific acts that are good or bad intrinsically, but ascribes value based on a formal criterion: what principle led to an act or governed its performance. Not all desire is bad, but only desire governed by the bad principle. From here, the speech will try to reason speciously in reverse: non-lovers desire youths, their desire must be good, therefore it is governed by the good principle; by the same logic, the lover's desire must be bad, therefore it is ruled by the bad principle. Socrates does not elaborate on the non-lover's good desire. Socrates' two principles are innate desire for pleasure, and acquired opinion that leads to the best. He calls the bad rule of innate desire for pleasure hubris and the good rule of acquired opinion restraint. This implies that non-lovers desire youths but restrain the desire
28
Many translations have "beautiful things," neuter, but the masculine makes much more sense in the context.
80 since good acquired opinion dominates their souls. Socrates does not say whether this relation includes favors, but since his speech is only an editorial improvement on the Eroticus, its substance should be the same, so the non-lover desires favors, but would perhaps say in his own defense that he is not as lewd as the lover, who desires the grossest satisfaction imaginable. Establishing a formal criterion for moral goodness allows Socrates to avoid mentioning specific acts he considers hubristic or restrained, so the speech remains hopelessly vague on this, as it does on other important points. Socrates says no more about the good principle, acquired opinion, but does develop the bad principle, innate desire, in paragraph 5, the second third of the definition. Behavior governed by innate desire is hubris, and there are at least three kinds of hubris, each of which corresponds to one of three kinds of innate desire. Now hubris has many names, for it is a monstrous, manifold thing indeed. And if one of these forms should happen to gain notoriety, it furnishes its name to brand the man who has it, a name neither becoming nor worthy to possess. For first, when desire for food rules over reasoning about what is best and over the other desires, this desire is gluttony, and it will furnish the name glutton to label the man who has it. And again, when desire for alcohol is oppressive, leading the man who has it to drink, it is clear what designation he will get. And regarding other objects of desire akin to these, and the names of the desires themselves, it is already clear that, when a desire is currently in power, it is fitting to call him by its name.29
29
"Y(3piq 8e Srj TCOXUWVUJJ.OV, nokuy.e'kec; y a p x a l TcoXueLo"e<;- x a l TOUTOIV TSV LSewv sxTtpeTT/jc; rj av xuyy] yevojiivr] TY)V aurrjt; encovufxiav 6vojj,a<^6(i,evov TOV S^OVTGC uape^sToa, OUTS Tiva xaXrp OUT' lTiai;lav xexTYJa&oa. I l s p l y.ev y a p SSMSYJV xpaTouaa TOU Xoyou TE TOU apt-crcou x a l TWV aXXwv eTK.Quji.f.uv eTa&ufjia yac7Tp(,p.apyt.a TS x a l TOV s^ovTa TauTov TOUTO XEXXYJJJLSVOV rcapE^STai- Oepl 8' au [xe∾ Tupavveuaaaa, TOV xsxT7]fi.svov TauTT) ayoucra, SvjXov ou Teu^sTai. TcpocrpY)[j.aTo<;. K a l T&XXa SYJ TO. TOUTMV aSsXcpa x a l aSsXtpGv sruS'Uu.i.wv dvofxaTa TYJ<; a s l o"uvao"Teuouo"7]<;, r\ Tcpocrrjxei. xaXetaQm rcpoo"7]Xov (238a2-b6).
81
Socrates describes the first kind of hubris thoroughly, but is sketchy about the second kind, and utterly vague on the third. When desire for food dominates and rules the soul, the man with such desire is a glutton, and the name of his hubris is gluttony. Socrates' thorough description of this example makes it easy to fill in details missing from his account of the second form of hubris, excessive desire for strong drink. The man with this type of hubris is a drunkard or alcoholic, and one calls his hubris drunkenness or alcoholism. Socrates postpones naming the third form of hubris by turning abruptly to a general explanation of the logic of hubris-naming: other desires of an unspecified number conform to this pattern. The sentence merely repeats the general explanation of the naming process he gave in the second sentence of the passage. He is diverting attention with a flourish, and also imitating Lysias's trick of leaving out crucial details in the hope that the listener will fill them in mentally, and that he will then later be able to protest, "I never said that." Socrates' strategy is clear: whoever hears gluttony and drunkenness mentioned should anticipate lechery as the third kind of hubris, lecher being the name of the man who has it, and sex being the object of his excessive desire.30 But after the vague general description of the logic of hubris-naming, Socrates gives his definition of love, even though it does not follow at all from the development that preceded it. Thus it is completely out of place.
30
The Republic (e.g. 1.329a, 4.426a, 436a, 442a, 9.580e) criticizes excessive desire for food, drink, and sex, a formulaic, commonplace enumeration of appetite's objects. Cf. Aristotle Ethica Nicomachea 3.1118a23-bl5.
82 The name of the desire for whose sake all the foregoing was said is now all but obvious, but what's said is always clearer than what's left unsaid. When irrational desire has overwhelmed the opinion that motivates correct behavior, when it has been led to take pleasure from beauty, and when further it has been amply amplified for bodily beauty by its kindred cravings, once it has vanquished by rout, receiving its name from that very amplitude, it is called love.31 The definition is rhetorically impressive, but it is formally inconsistent with the treatment given gluttony and drunkenness, and materially false as well. Gluttony is the name of the desire to take excessive pleasure in food, and drunkenness is the name of the desire to take excessive pleasure in strong drink. Glutton and drunkard are the names for men whose souls are ruled by these excessive desires. Socrates would now have love be the name of the desire to take pleasure in beautiful bodies, but he fails to draw a distinction between an excessive desire to take pleasure in beauty and a desire to do so simpliciter. The notion of excess is implicit in gluttony, alcoholism, and lechery, but not in love.32 Socrates does not expressly raise excess as a topic, though he suggests it by his repetition of words for force and strength, and by the various terms for political power that he uses. Though not in so many words, Socrates has defined love as an excessive desire, but he is now on thin ice, for he has not first clarified what the normal, non-excessive form of desire for beautiful bodies is. Just as hunger and thirst are normal and quite acceptable desires for natural goods, consistency would require 31 r
H ? 8' evexoc rravxa xa npoo&tv eipTjxca, a)£e§6v [i.ev YJSYJ cpavepov- Xe^&ev Se y\ JXYJ XzySkv Tcdvxw<; aacpeaxepov. 'H yap aveu Xoyou §6i;7]<; STTI TO dp&ov 6pfi,(oa7]<; xpax^craaa sTa&ujjaa, npoq YJSOVYJV a.y&eZaoi xdXXoug xal uno a5 TWV eaux7)<; auyyevwv ZV:I&\J\J.I&>V excl aw^axwv xaXXo? eppw^svcot; pcoa&slaa, vixTjcraaa aycoyfj, arc' <xu-zr\q TT)C, pd>\J.t]Q eixwvu[xt.av Xa^oCiaoc spwq £XXY]-9T] (238b6-c4). 32 The idea of excess is conceptually excluded from sophrosyne, which implies, among other things, obedience to the famed Delphic maxim, "nothing too much."
83 that there be a moderate or acceptable form of desire to take pleasure in beautiful bodies. If there is not, Socrates should give a good explanation of the asymmetry among the desires for food, drink, and sex. As it is, his argument presupposes and depends on perfect symmetry, so he should provide an argument or explanation of what moderate or self-controlled desire would look like. Without this, his definition of lover as the name for a man who has an excessive desire is flawed, since it rests on a faulty analogy. Socrates provides no etymology for glutton or drunkard, but only for Eros. This shows that he does not even try to prove that the three forms of desire are parallel. His inserting love in the tripartition of hubris is an awkward, artificial case of special pleading that forces love to occupy a position properly belonging to lust, and that thus hopes to draw down on love the censure properly belonging to lust. He could easily concoct a euphemism or enlist a metonym to stand for lust in this speech, but that would not serve his purpose, which is to suppress the notion of lust in order to more easily tar love with the ignominy properly belonging to lust. Drawing a distinction between love and lust would undermine his efforts.33 Thus, the definition of love is fallacious because it is built around a faulty analogy, and the whole speech is unsound because it depends on a fallacious premise.
33
The middle speech describes a real phenomenon, but in a misleading way. It gives an account not of true love, as it pretends to do, but of a vague popular caricature of love that when boiled down turns out to be lust. At 266a Socrates calls this "left-handed love," echoing what Pausanias describes at Symposium 181a-c as Pandemian Eros, and approximating what the Republic and many other texts call xa dcppoSiaia. The middle speech pretends to describe one thing, but really describes something else. As Socrates captures the idea at 260b-c, the speech presents an ass (lust) as though it were a horse (love), and so is false.
84 It is simply not reasonable to argue, as Socrates and Lysias do, that all lovers are sex fiends, pernicious flatterers who aim solely for sensual gratification without considering the welfare of their beloveds. This would be like arguing that all rulers are bad because tyrants exist. Some rulers may well be tyrants, but many others are not. It is wrong to ignore the existence of what good rulers there are in order to present tyranny as being somehow exhaustive of political rule. Thus, even if it were possible to cite examples of men who call themselves lovers but who behave instead as lechers (bad apples), these few examples would not justify branding lovers in general as bad. This is the inductive fallacy of hasty generalization, as Socrates (returned to his right mind) points out (though not in so many words) at 243c-d. Moreover, the bad apples would not even count as examples of bad lovers, because their behavior would reveal them to actually be lechers, not lovers at all, though this would depend on first having a proper definition of love.
Conclusion Like the Eroticus, the middle speech argues that lovers are ruled by an excessive desire to take pleasure from bodily beauty. This description corresponds to a real type, but misnames him lover instead of calling him what he truly is, a lecher. Lovers and lechers may both desire pleasure in bodily beauty, but only the lecher is ruled by this desire, that is, he has it in excess. Lovers and lechers bear each other a passing resemblance, but their conditions are not the same: the latter's excessive desire is not regulated by nobler motives as is the
85 lover's, and as the palinode and later discussion show, love is a form of divine inspiration, whereas lust is simply a human sickness. The middle speech contains some truth, for in accurately portraying a lecher it describes a real type, but it gives him the wrong name, and so misrepresents that truth. It is thus corrupt, because it advises young people to avoid lovers on the fallacious ground that they are lechers, whereas really they should seek them out because they are benevolent mentors, each of whom has strictly subordinated his desire to take pleasure from bodily beauty to his rational faculties, and thus to his desire for the good, both for himself and his beloved. This regime in his soul prevents him from being abusive or exploitative, and so bars the possibility that the accusations of the middle speech might be true. Socrates' motive in giving the middle speech is not to get favors or otherwise corrupt Phaedrus, but to edit the form and clarify the thesis of the Eroticus to create an object lesson in moral, rhetorical, and educational theory, and so to educate and improve Phaedrus by turning his soul from the base goals and dubious methods of sophistic rhetoric toward devotion to truth and goodness by way of philosophy.34 As a first step in this conversion, Socrates has fortified the Lysian thesis by defining love as an excessive, irrational desire for brute physical pleasure, but with the covert motive of introducing the palinode, which puts the middle speech and its inverted conception of love into proper context. The middle speech seems corrupt because it gives the wrong answer to the Lysian dilemma, a false dichotomy Socrates 34
This sort of leading (ayeiv, ducere) is generically akin to corruption or seduction (xaTayst-v, seducere), but, since it is based on truth and the good, it leads not downwards or away from the good, but upwards and towards it (dvayst-v, educere), and is specifically beyond reproach.
86 later exposes and rejects when he argues that the best kind of love does not involve erotic favors at all; yet it subtly introduces palinodic themes as part of Socrates' plan to lead Phaedrus to philosophy, so it actually fights corruption instead of promoting it. Participating in both the falsity of the Eroticus and the truth of the palinode, it represents an intermediate stage, a pedagogic advance on the road to truth.
Chapter Four Socrates' Palinode This chapter studies the last of the Phaedrus 's three speeches, a formal retraction of the middle speech's morally corrupt position that love is a pathological desire for physical pleasure and that lovers are harmful, disgusting, and to be avoided. The palinode presents a better conception of love and supports it with arguments that invoke systematic theories of morality, knowledge, and being. Its gist is that the immortal, tripartite human soul's experience of true love is both recollection and anticipation of a primordial, incorporeal dwelling with real being. Aroused by bodily beauty, amplified by beauty of character, and practiced as sublime friendship, erotic love is no lustful urge for pleasure, but a complex emotional and intellectual union of souls. Ideal love is celibate, yet Socrates realizes this will be hard for most to achieve, so he sanctions a practical standard that tolerates a physical dimension, but the palinode is no less serious a philosophic achievement for this concession. In a short prelude,1 Socrates rejects the ethos of the previous speeches. His customary sign bars his exit until he recants, and makes him see those speeches' errors.2 If the view that eros is a god is right, the speeches that reviled it were sacrilege. Socrates endorses this popular belief, concludes he has offended against the divine, and decides he must make another speech to atone for his sin. The idea of divinity has a dominant role in the palinode, for it informs Socrates' dialectical revaluation of madness, his conception of soul, his doctrines 1
242b-243e.
2
They were Seivov, einfjah), aae(3vj (wicked, foolish, profane, 242d); they Yjfjiap-caveTTjv, p.Y]Sev Wfikc; . . . prjSe aX7]9-£c; (erred, were neither healthy nor true, 242e-243a); and were spoken avaiSok; (shamelessly, 243c).
87
88 of knowledge and being, and even his theory of education. Traditional mythology provides a point of departure and lends his argument gravitas, but what he means by divinity goes far beyond conventional anthropomorphic polytheism. Six scholarly books on the Phaedrus help elucidate the palinode. Pieper's two-chapter analysis defends the role of emotion and enthusiasm in the good life and sees the speech as a traditionalist refutation of corrupt sophistic ideals. Burger notes the protreptic dramatic situation, but does not focus on morality or education in her chapter on the palinode because she reads the Phaedrus through the lens of its critique of writing. Griswold recognizes Socrates' protreptic and pedagogic motives, maintains his concern with the "ethically charged" selfknowledge theme, but does not emphasize its ethical ramifications in his long chapter on the palinode. The first of Ferrari's two chapters on the palinode notes its self-referential concern with education and character formation, discusses morality and the role of luck in ethics, but does not cite these themes as hermeneutic keys to the dialogue. White, who devotes three chapters to the palinode, claims that Socrates is "leading Phaedrus to the philosophical life" and describing that life to the reader, and that metaphysical theorizing is the substance of that life. He mentions education several times, but does not stress moral education in his interpretation of the speech. Nicholson's purpose is "expository"; he accepts Griswold's view of the palinode as an exercise in self-knowledge.3
3
Pieper, 47-89; Burger, 47-48, 68; Griswold, 136, 3, 43; Ferrari, Cicadas, 122, 138, 133-39; White, Rhetoric, 171-78; Nicholson, Love, 147, 175.
89 Six shorter accounts of the Phaedrus shed further light on the palinode. Jaeger thinks education is a key theme, but does not develop the point vis-a-vis morality. Friedlander notes the palinode's stress on intellectual ascent and education, but not in conjunction with morality. Cushman sees Platonic philosophy as a way of life, an essentially paideutic tendance of the soul that aims to dispel corruption and inculcate virtue as a means to happiness or salvation, and considers the Phaedrus "an important part of Plato's effort to grasp and solve the problem of therapeia, in so far as this includes man's need for revolution of ethos.''' Sinaiko's dialectically themed chapter on the Phaedrus mentions morality, corruption, and educational notions like improvement, tendance, and betterment in its account of the palinode, but lays no stress on them. Benardete's chapter on the palinode uses paradox to emphasize structure, but does not discuss moral education. Rutherford's chapter on the Phaedrus mentions morality in discussing the three speeches, and notes that Phaedrus is a "potential convert to philosophy," but does not emphasize these points or discuss moral education.4 The sea of Phaedrus articles contains a few topical specimens. Hudson-Williams thinks the dialogue's "main subject is higher education," and that it is an "advertisement of the Platonic method of dialectic," against the curriculum of Isocrates and the sophists represented by Lysias. He sees the palinode as a loose but magnificent poetic epitome of Plato's 4
Werner Jaeger, Paideia: The Ideals of Greek Culture, tr. Gilbert Highet (New York: Oxford University Press, 1939-44), 3:188; Paul Friedlander, Plato, tr. Hans Meyerhoff (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1958-69), 1:64-72, 196-97, 3:242; R.E. Cushman, Therapeia: Plato's Conception of Philosophy (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1958), xv-xxii, 188-89; Herman L. Sinaiko, Love, Knowledge, and Discourse in Plato (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965), 37-118; Benardete, 132-54; Rutherford, 252, 253, 260.
90 teachings, and notes a moral ascent over the course of the three speeches. Tanner thinks the Phaedrus is a "debate about moral education" whose aim is to advocate "the training of youths by philosophical lovers." Nichols's suggestively titled article identifies Pericles as a product of philosophic education. Muir focuses entirely on education, and uses the palinode to show that desire for the good and philosophic friendship, a dialectical quest for knowledge shared between a mentor and student, are Platonic ideals.5 The interpretation offered here is indebted to all these scholars, but tries to combine their various insights in a new way. This chapter argues that the chief aim of the palinode is to present a sample lesson showing the pedagogic power of philosophy to cure moral corruption, and that solving the Lysian dilemma6 is a subordinate aim rooted in the dramatic situation. The palinode gives Socrates a chance to display his talents by improvising a speech that is both true and persuasive.7 He acquaints Phaedrus with some key philosophic doctrines, shows him the role of argument in careful deliberation, and teaches him a lesson about the long-term consequences of personal choice. Some of this is probably over Phaedrus's head, but if he has philosophic po5
H.L. Hudson-Williams, Three Systems of Education: Some Reflections on the Implications of Plato's Phaedrus (Oxford: The University Press, 1954); R.G. Tanner, "Plato's Phaedrus: An Educational Manifesto?" in Understanding the Phaedrus: Proceedings of the II Symposium Platonicum, ed. L. Rossetti (Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 1992), 218, 221; James H. Nichols, "Platonic Reflections on Philosophic Education," in Political Philosophy and the Human Soul, ed. M. Palmer and T. Pangle (Lanham, Md.: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 1995), 114-15; D.P.E. Muir, "Friendship in Education and the Desire for the Good: An Interpretation of Plato's Phaedrus," Educational Philosophy and Theory 32 (2000): 233-47; see now Robin Waterfield, "Introduction," in Plato, Phaedrus, tr. R. Waterfield (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), xxxvii, xlvi sq. 6 The main question of Lysias's speech, "Should one favor a lover or a non-lover?" See ch. 2. 7 Phaedrus's response at 257c suggests the palinode is an effective first step in philosophic education. Ideally truth should persuade the intellect automatically, but really it does so only for sufficiently educated minds. Beginners like Phaedrus need extra help, so Socrates coaxes him with rhetorical philosophic myth. Only after the palinode is Phaedrus prepared for a direct lesson with Socrates. See Cushman, 221 n. 34; Sinaiko, 109-110.
91 tential, perplexity will lead him to inquire and learn more, so the speech also serves as a test of his aptitude. If Phaedrus turns out not to have philosophic potential, or is merely persuaded without fully understanding, he still stands to benefit from the experience, because the palinode teaches morally fortifying doctrines of universal value. The speech is oddly selfreferential, and demands careful scrutiny, for while showing Phaedrus how to solve the moral quandary before him, it also explores the theory underlying its own didactic function. The notion that the study and practice of philosophy leads to moral improvement and a better life presumes that changes in belief cause changes in behavior, and that truer beliefs bring wiser behavior. The natural human desire for the good ensures that right opinions about what acts are best in specific situations will lead to those acts, so better belief leads to better behavior. The quality of an agent's moral choices depends partly on innate qualities, but mainly on the truth of his opinions. To the extent that these are false, he will tend to vice, but if he can be led to hold true opinions, he will tend to virtue. In the Phaedrus, the Socratic dicta that virtue is knowledge, that it is teachable, and that no one errs intentionally apply to students with true philosophic potential, but with the Meno and Republic, it recognizes that in most cases education can hope only to inculcate true opinions. Only a select few will gain knowledge of the virtues themselves as Ideas at the culmination of a program of dialectical instruction with a dedicated philosophic mentor, but for the rest, one may still hope that true moral opinions will replace some false ones.
92 The palinode attacks and corrects several false opinions to try to save Phaedrus from unwise behavior. If he goes away accepting the values of the Eroticus and its revision, he might shun lovers and the emotional commitment their companionship brings, and instead fall prey to a series of parasites who could hinder his development and hurt him in other ways. He will consider love a hubristic excess of desire, not the divine transformative force that it is. He will misunderstand the soul, for he will consider reason a disinterested mortal calculative power for choosing means to pedestrian ends rather than a teleological receptive capacity that transcends embodied desire and is akin to the divine. He will disparage philosophy and defile life's greatest mystery by seeing it as an instrument for maximizing utility in a futile existence with no higher ends than gain and pleasure. Not only will he calculate the means to his ends poorly, he will misapprehend the ends themselves, a dire fate. Socrates' immediate task is to show Phaedrus the ohtological foundations of love and inform his personal erotic choice with a frank analysis of his true best interest.8 It would be foolish for Phaedrus to submit to exploitation at the hands of a non-lover, for that would be to accept the corrupting influence of a slave to pleasure and reject the civilizing company of a free gentleman, but much wiser for him to select a lover, for even popular lovers, save perhaps the very worst, care about the development of a beloved's body, soul, and estate for his sake, not their own, and accept favors only as spontaneous, sincere expressions of affection based on mutual care and respect, never just because of the brutish sting of lust. 8
Nussbaum, Fragility, 202.
93 By the end of the palinode, Phaedrus learns two related lessons. First, the human soul is immortal, and each of its embodied lives is followed by judgment and reward/punishment, so individual happiness depends not just on the short-term balance of pains and pleasures, but on the long-run sum of otherworldly reinforcements, and the surest way to maximize overall happiness is thus to seek virtue, avoid vice, and above all, practice philosophy, which instills mental discipline, encourages research into moral phenomena, and fosters wise decisionmaking through inquiry, calculation, and deliberation. Philosophy empowers the mind, whose steadfast purposes are the seat of virtue, subjugates the body, whose ephemeral desires are the root of vice, and, trumping human concerns, assimilates its practitioners to the divine. The second lesson is that love is no innate desire for pleasure that turns to hubris when it dominates a soul, but a divine inspiration that leads a mature man to befriend a youth and help him become a better person. Love is a miraculous, manifold phenomenon that consists in the cult and emulation of a god and his arts. Lovers treat their beloveds not as sources of pleasure, but like sons, potential successors in whom they may immortalize themselves, their concerns, and their values.9 So pederasty is no pretense for a tryst, but a noble institution that makes quibbling over favors look ridiculous and shameful by comparison. The middle speech defined love as an insane desire for pleasure and argued that lovers are harmful and to be avoided. It seemed like an improvement because the Eroticus was so disorganized, but did nothing to fix the real problem, falsity, and had other flaws too, sug9
Cf. Symposium 206c-207a.
94 gesting that Socrates was not speaking for himself, but impersonating a crafty rhetorician in order to prepare Phaedrus for additional lessons. The speech argued that definition is a key rhetorical technique, but tendentiously abused the procedure; it appealed to moral psychology to explain the nature of love, but prejudiced its answer by ignoring the vital element of reason; it assigned restraint a crucial role in the good life, but mischaracterized the virtue to prejudice its conclusion; it lauded philosophy and education as great concerns, but only to conceal an immoral ethos. Now in the palinode Socrates emerges from the shadows to enrich the inherited themes of psychology, restraint, and education with several advanced philosophic doctrines that he interlaces to overturn the anti-erotic thesis of the two preceding speeches. These changes help Phaedrus realize that erotic choice is a serious matter with deeper consequences than he previously imagined, and give him a new respect for philosophy and the life of the mind.
Philosophic Doctrines of the Charioteer Myth Like the middle speech, the palinode has a coherent structure, but its real achievement, the respect in which it leaves both the Eroticus and middle speech far behind, is its principled quest for the truth and simultaneous repudiation of moral corruption. Structural issues, interesting as they may be, are not this chapter's principal concern, so the following outline must suffice. The palinode has an introduction, body, and conclusion.10 The introduc10
243e-244a, 244a-257a, and 257a-b, respectively.
95 tion and conclusion are brief, but the long body develops the speech's thesis in three complex sections on the genus of love, the nature of the soul, and the nature of love.11 The first section grants that love is a kind of madness, then argues that not all madness is bad, but that some kinds are divine or heaven-sent, and that love is one of these and thus a blessing. A series of popular mythological examples supports these claims. The second section comprises a complex argument for the immortality of soul and an elaborate myth recounting the structure, history, and fate of human and divine souls. This detailed account of soul is no tangent, but an essential step in refuting the preceding speeches, for love is a passion or response of the soul, and one cannot understand a response without studying the responder. The third section builds on this with an idealized theory of love and a phenomenological narrative of the hypothetical experience of a typical lover and beloved. Finally, drawing on the full range of this account, the palinode concludes that one should choose a lover, not a non-lover. Socrates' reference to divine philosophy in the middle speech was a clue that it aspired to greater things than its poor argument suggested. He did not try to develop the theme there, but planted it like a seed. In the palinode, that seed sprouts, burgeons, and blooms in a veritable garden of detail. Socrates presents several interrelated, heretofore unmentioned philosophic doctrines, shows their combined power to frame a true and persuasive argument, saves love from Lysian denigration, and gives Phaedrus a valuable didactic push. The first of these philosophic doctrines is immortality. The palinode's main argument cites the immortal11
244a-245c, 245c-249d, and 249d-257a, respectively.
96 ity of human souls, a doctrine Plato explored in many dialogues. Here Socrates offers a motion-based argument for the doctrine, adds a vivid eschatological myth to explain the structure, origin, and destiny of souls, ranks nine possible embodied human lives by their moral worth, and posits the philosophic life as a normative standard, a move that answers the key ethical question, nok, (3ICOT£OV, "How should one live?" His moral teaching rests squarely on his psychology, and so ultimately on this argument. Much of the Phaedrus is ironic or playful in tone, but here Socrates is quite serious: the wise, not the clever, will believe him. All soul is immortal. For whatever is always in motion is immortal. But whatever moves another and is moved by another, by having pause from motion, it has pause from life. Only the self-moving, which does not abandon itself, never ceases being moved, but it is also a spring and source of motion for as many other things as are moved. And a source is ungenerated, for every generated thing necessarily comes into being from a source. But that source cannot originate from any other thing, for should all generated things originate from this source, they would not originate from it qua first principle. But since it is ungenerated, it is also necessarily incorruptible, for when a source is destroyed, neither will it ever originate from something, nor will something else ever originate from it, if indeed it is necessary that all things originate from a source. So really, the source of motion is the thing that moves itself. But this is capable neither of being destroyed nor created, otherwise all the heavens and all creation would collapse to a standstill, and would never again have a source to move them and cause them to originate. But since the thing moved by itself has been shown to be immortal, someone saying that this very thing is the essence and formula of the soul would do nothing disgraceful. For every body that is moved from without is soulless, whereas a body that moves itself by itself from within is ensouled, since this is the nature of soul. But if this holds true, the thing that moves itself is nothing else than soul, and soul would necessarily be uncreated and immortal.12 12
*Fu)(Y) Tcacra a&avaxoc;. To yap aeixt.v7]Tov a-9-avaTov- TO §' aXXo xivouv xai UTT' aXXou xivoup.svov, rcauXav e^ov xivrjcreax;, rcauXav eyei ~C/jsf\q. Movov SV] TO auTo XLVOUV, GCTE oux airoXsl/jTov sauTo, OUTCOTS Xyjyet. xt.voup.svov, aXXa xal xoZc, aXkoic, oaa xiveiTai. TOUTO TtrjyY] xal cupxh xivrjasax;. 'Apyy\ Se aysvYjTov. 'E£ apx% Y*P avayxv) -rcav TO ytyvofxevov yiyvecrQ-aa, OCUTTJV Se ^v]S' s^ ev6<;- el yap ex TOU ap^Y] yiyvoiTO, oux av sZ, ocpyyiQ yiyvoiTo. 'ETCEISYJ SS ayevrjTov SCTTLV, xal a&iacpQ-opov auTo dvayxT) elvca- apx*k T^P <^1
97
Crombie thinks Plato here "offers a proof of immortality and also, as it seems, a definition of the soul." These recur, he notes, in the Laws. He explores what Plato could have done with the proof and definition but failed to do, then concludes that "Plato's view is, presumably, that if we think hard enough . . . we shall discern the essential connection between selfactivation and spirituality." Guthrie summarizes the argument, then describes its pre-Socratic origins, its development in the Laws, its connection with the doctrine of eros, and its relation to Aristotle's Unmoved Mover. Sinaiko says that "the passage cannot be taken as a serious philosophic attempt to demonstrate the immortality of the soul," but claims that it "cannot be lightly dismissed" either, concluding that it "serves as the intrinsically intelligible basis of the myth. . . . its rational foundation." Robinson calls it "One of the most condensed and abstruse arguments for soul's immortality," and believes it applies specifically to the rational or noetic soul. He claims it is not the neat syllogism Robin emended it to be, but a "diffuse series of arguments"; it is a "milestone in Plato's thought, and the direct ancestor of the cosmological argument ex motu first outlined by Aristotle and followed by Aquinas," but better than these for including the "notion of providential care." Griswold thinks "the central argument... can
cnv:oko\j.kvr\q OUTS ai)TY) TCOTS EX TOU OUTE aXXo eE, exsivY]<; yevYjcreraa, e'drcep zc, cnpyy\c, Set T<X ixavxa yiyvEa9 m . OUTM ST) XLVYJCTEWC; p.sv ap^Y] TO auTO auTO x(.vouv- TOUTO SE OUT' dmoXXua'&oa OUTE ylyv£0"9m Suvaxov, r\ TtavTa T£ oupavov iraaav TS y£veo"iv auu-TCEaoucrav crrrjvat., x a l u.7]7TOT£ cnu&iq iyziv O&EV xivYj&svTa y£VY)G£Toa. A&avonrou 8E Tcscpaau-Evou TOU ucp' sauTou xivoufxsvou, ^yj\c, oualav TE x a l Xoyov TOUTOV auTov -zic, X£ywv oux OUO"XUVE!TIX(.. I l a V y a p awu-a, w o.sv E^WQ-EV TO xiveur&at., a.^uyov- to SE EVSOQ-EV auTw e£ auTOU, £[JU];U)£OV, wq TauTYjq ouarjq yr\c,. E l 8' ECTTJ. TOUTO OUTW<; ZJOV, [XT) aXXo xi slvai. TO auTO sauTO xivouv 7] <\)\jyj]v, sZ, avayxY]<; ayEVYjTov TE x a l a&avaTov <JJUYJ) av elt] (245c5-246a2).
98 be reconstructed in the form of a valid sorites [with] several enthymematic premises." Its emphasis on self-motion resists the reduction of human eros to mechanistic desire and establishes the individual as a moral being worthy of respect, not exploitation. "Socrates does not have . . . an ironclad proof that incorporeal soul exists. [But he does want] to claim . . . that moral intuition .. . tell[s] us something true." White argues that "The discussion from 245c to 246a is commonly understood to prove the immortality of soul. But this reading is misleading. . . . Socrates is not proving the immortality of soul . . . [but] beginning to describe the nature of soul." The short passage under consideration is really just the beginning, the apx*) of the proof. The proof itself is much longer, and aims to show that love "is given by the gods as the greatest good fortune."13 Nicholson calls it "a patch of the purest dialectic" that "the deeper thrust of the dialogue requires . . . in this position." It "is stated," he says, "in formidably abstract style, which gives it the effect of a priori truth." After likening selfmotion to Kant's idea of the practical need to believe in causality through freedom, he admits that his reading "is probably not in line with Plato's intention."14 One point these scholars generally agree on is that the passage lacks the muscle one might hope for in a truly apodictic proof, yet White suggests a plausible explanation. The palinode is a sample of Socratic rhetoric, not dialectic, and it is pitched not at veteran phi-
13
'HJALV 8s dmoSeiXTeov . . .utqzn' suxu^iqc xfj [isyiar-t] ntxpa. 9-swv Y] ToiauTT) p.avia SiSoroa (245b7-cl). 1.M. Crombie, An Examination of Plato's Doctrines (London: Routledge, 1962), 1:325-29; HGP 4:402, 41921; Sinaiko, 45-49; T.M. Robinson, Plato's Psychology, 2d ed. (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1995), 111-18; Griswold, 82-83; White, Rhetoric, 77-87; Nicholson, Love, 155-163. 14
99 losophers, but at a novice. Socrates is trying to lead Phaedrus to philosophy, but even if he were prepared to offer an irrefutable proof, Phaedrus would not understand it. So the context calls for a weaker translation of a.n6?ieic]iq, and the lexicon provides several, such as display, exhibition, or delivery; in other words, doioSei^c; here means nearly the same thing as ini§sib]iq, a show speech or rhetorical demonstration.15 In light of the dialogue's dramatic apparatus, it is tempting to read the palinode as Socrates' own InL^zi^iq in a logomachy or rhetorical agon. This analysis relieves the burden this short passage has to bear, and allows it to fit more neatly into the overall plan of the dialogue. The eschatology that follows, and thus the whole palinode, presupposes some form of psychic immortality. The self-motion argument provides a suitable foundation for what follows, and is as much an <xpxh f° r the P a n " node as the soul is an apx*) of motion. Every argument must have premises that reflect the tacit presuppositions uniting or defining the community that accepts it. Closely related to the doctrine of immortality is the notion of eschatology, the fate or "life" of a discarnate soul. The palinode ascribes celestial origins to the soul and offers an elaborate scheme of metempsychosis,16 two features that, while heightening the gravity of Socrates' philosophic vision, also serve directly to support his moral agenda. Neither of the two preceding speeches mentioned immortality or eschatology, or any metaphysical themes
at all for that matter, but since such matters intimately concern the nature of the soul, the part
15
LSJ, s.vv. doioSei^c;, kizLSei^iq.
16
248c3-e4.
100 of the person that experiences love, they are crucial for arriving at a correct theory of love. Inquiry into these subjects is thus a prerequisite for solving the matter at hand, and provides a long detour of the sort recommended later in the dialogue.17 Socrates employs the language of mystery religion not in irony or jest, but judging from the palinode's several other references to initiation and rites,18 to make a key substantive point about philosophy; other dialogues contain similar passages, and scholars have noted Plato's love for mystery terminology.19 The precise source of the imagery, probably an amalgam of Orphic, Pythagorean, and Eleusinian elements,20 is obscure, but Socrates' appeal to it suggests that philosophy is somehow exclusive or esoteric, that is, it might as well be a cult, for without an initiation or lessons of some sort, a novice will rarely understand philosophic doctrines or arguments. Also like a cult, though by rationalistic means, philosophy addresses the soteriological needs of its adherents by promising to purify the immortal rational soul and liberate it from confinement in a corruptible corporeal tomb.21 In the Orphic view, the fall from heaven into a mortal body is a calamity. According to Socrates, this fate is not inevitable, for a soul that sees at least some real reality in each 17
274a. 249c, 250b-c, e, 251a. 19 Hackforth, 87-88; RMV 43 n. 1; Heitsch, 117; Reale, 218, 223; HGP 4:402 n. 2; White, Rhetoric, 130-38; G.J. De Vries, "Mystery Terminology in Aristophanes and Plato," Mnemosyne 26 (1973), 1-8; Ch. Riedweg, Mysterienterminologie bei Platon, Philon und Klemens von Alexandrien (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1987), 30-69. 20 Luc Brisson, Orphee et I'rphisme dans I'antiquite greco-romaine (Aldershot: Variorum, 1995); Walter Burkert, Ancient Mystery Cults (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987); Walter Burkert, Lore and Science in Ancient Pythagoreanism, tr. E.L. Minar (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972); W.K.C. Guthrie, Orpheus and Greek Religion (New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1935). 21 Phaedo 67a-d. 18
101 circuit of the heavens will stay aloft, but going a whole circuit without seeing precipitates a fall. The soul that falls may not be fully responsible for failing to keep up and see, or for the burden of badness and forgetfulness that it must bear, for these are described as a misfortune. Not all fallen souls are equal: each one is assigned to a particular sort of life based on how much real reality it saw in its last circuit aloft.22 Corresponding to nine recognized levels of inadequate exposure to the Ideas, nine lives, each characterized by a different occupation or set of occupations, await fallen souls. As in the Republic, the philosopher stands at the top of the scale and the tyrant the bottom, though more intermediate steps are presented in this text. Timocratic, oligarchic, and democratic elements are discernible in the second through eighth lives, which decline from intellectual activities through spirited activities, down to physical or servile activities. The last two lives are clearly reserved for people Plato hated. In keeping with the subject of the dialogue, Socrates generously allows lovers of beauty, and cultured, erotically inclined souls into the philosophers' group. Socrates explains that philosophy, love, and immortality of the soul are closely interconnected phenomena, and emphasizes the extrinsic rewards of leading a philosophic life.23 The sublime friendship a student and mentor share when studying philosophy together makes them lovers of a higher order, for in their devoted pursuit of wisdom, they nurture the best part of their souls, divine intellect. Bodily favors undermine the purity of this experience, and
22 23
Originally only souls failing utterly to see truth were said to fall, but some details may have been omitted. 248e5-249b7.
102 divert erotic energy from the pursuit of truth,24 whereas a life given over to philosophy frees the intellect from its corporeal shackles to the furthest extent humanly possible, and thus exempts a soul from seven of the ten tedious embodied lives that must ordinarily be endured. Failure to live philosophically dooms offending souls to a repetitious sequence of incarnations punctuated by intervening periods of reward and punishment in a mundane heaven or hell.25 Literally intended or not, this mythological enjoinder to moral conduct recurs many times in Plato26 as a popular, second-best alternative to the more sophisticated, harder to understand philosophic notion that virtue is inherently choiceworthy.27 Socrates' eschatological vision fleshes out his doctrine of immortality, and lays the foundation for three intertwined corollary doctrines that frame his refutation of Lysias: the Ideas, dialectic, and recollection. Socrates refers several times in the palinode,28 more or less directly, to the theory of Ideas, the best known of Plato's doctrines and the one usually taken to represent the essence of Platonism. The history of the reception of this doctrine largely defines the history of Western philosophy, and the scholarship dealing with it is correspondingly vast. Comment here will thus necessarily be brief. The theory of Ideas is an ontological doctrine that holds, roughly, that transcendent, self-subsisting, eternal universal essences exist, and that these are 24
Republic 6.485d-e. An apt in-kind punishment analogous to that of ghosts who must hover around the earth due to a fixation on bodily things (Phaedo 81c-d). The ambiguous Tiva at 249a8 indicates a heaven or part of heaven different from the one identified earlier as the primordial homeland of the soul, which is the more final goal and better reward. 26 Cephalus explains this best at Republic 1.330d-33 la. 27 For Plato recognizing the value of conventional morality, see Cushman, 101; Robinson, Psychology, 128-29. 28 246e, 247c-e, 249b-c, 250b. 25
103 paradigms and causes of everything commonly thought to exist, including natural and artificial substances, general concepts like "courage," and abstract relations like "equality." The Ideas are more real than their imitations "here," and are located "there," that is, in "heaven" (as in the charioteer myth), or more precisely, in the intelligible realm, which is not located in space at all. Sometimes elliptical expressions serve to indicate Ideas: "X itself or "what X really is" for example, but two terms that explicitly indicate an Idea are eiSoc, and 1$£CL, nouns derived from related verbs that mean "to see." Both terms denote the pattern, shape, or form of what is seen, and only later acquire the sense of class, type, or species29 from the way the perceptible form is internalized as having "been seen." This etymology epistemologizes the primarily metaphysical doctrine, but not without some justification. A common-sense empiricist critic might say that Plato stands the process of idea-formation on its head by reifying universal concepts that are purely mental, and that ideas really have no objective, extramental reality of their own at all.30 Ross argues that, though "The Phaedrus is occupied in the main with matters far removed from the theory of Ideas; .. .the 'intelligible region' of the Republic appears . . . as
29
"The word 'species', which we still use, is only the Latin translation of the Greek eidos, Plato's name for his eternal Forms. In its original use, the 'species' does not mean the whole assemblage of individuals of a given kind; it means the constant form, common to all the individuals, and more or less adequately embodied in each" F.M. Cornford, Before and After Socrates (Cambridge: The University Press, 1950), 78. See also WilamowitzMollendorf, Platon (Berlin: Weidmann, 1917), 346-48, quoted by Nicholson, Love, 176-77. 30 The Aristotelian reading of the Ideas as substances is denied by Neokantian scholars like Natorp, Stewart, and Nettleship, who take the Ideas as laws of nature, explanations, or methods/units of thought. For a sample of opinions on this disputed doctrine, see J.M.E. Moravcsik, "Recollecting the Theory of Forms" in Facets of Plato's Philosophy, ed. W.H. Werkmeister (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1976), 1 nn. 1-6; also see below, 132 sq.
104 the supercelestial region . . . and the Ideas appear as 'the colorless, figureless, intangible, truly real reality, seen only by the steersman of the soul, reason.'" Crombie says that "The classical theory of forms . . . is prominent... in the Phaedrus, but in this dialogue the passages most characteristic of the theory occur in the myth, and are therefore possibly not to be taken seriously." Griswold, White, and Nicholson all think that when Socrates invokes the Ideas in the palinode, he is thinking of self-subsisting universal essences as the ultimate objects of cognition, and that at 249b8 especially, sl<$oq is meant to bear its full technical meaning. Nicholson shows that other terms, such as xaX7]d9j, truth, and xa ovxa, reality, are in effect synonyms for the Ideas.31 A closely related corollary of the doctrine of Ideas is recollection, a theory that tries to explain how the human mind may come to know any truth or Ideas at all. Socrates refers to recollection several times in the palinode.32 This doctrine, introduced in the Meno and expanded in the Phaedo33 has attracted much scholarly attention to these dialogues, but its appearance in the Phaedrus is no less significant.34 Recollection or ava.[LVY\aiq is an epistemological doctrine that holds, roughly, that knowledge is not empirically derived, but somehow innate, that is, it does not arise from iterative experience of particular cases of tallness, health, or strength, but from prenatal acquaintance with an Idea that is then recollected under 31
Sir David Ross, Plato's Theory of Ideas (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1951), 81; Crombie, 2:253; Griswold, 115-20; White, Rhetoric, 120-21, 131; Nicholson, Love, 174-95. 32 249c2, 249d6, 250al. 33 See Meno 80-86; Phaedo 72-77. 34 See Dominic Scott, "Platonic Anamnesis Revisited," Classical Quarterly 37 (1987), 346-66.
105 appropriate conditions. This means recognizing in the flux of perception particular objects, qualities, quantities, or relations as instantiations of Ideas learned not during life, but at some time before corporeal birth. Learning for an embodied soul requires that opinions arising from sensation be examined with a series of leading questions to stimulate the recovery of forgotten knowledge. This process purifies the opinions, and stirs up, jogs, or causes recollection of Ideas forgotten due to the trauma of the soul's forcible confinement in a mortal body and the ongoing distraction of the senses. The first episode of the charioteer myth35 renders an especially vivid account of how recollection is possible, for it narrates how disembodied souls first encounter the Ideas. Hackforth rightly stresses that, though mythically expressed, the doctrines in this passage are "strictly philosophical."36 Recollection plays a vital role in the palinode's vindication of love, for Socrates uses it to explain the emotional turmoil that attends the lover's perception of a beautiful body. The lover is not suffering an overwhelming subrational urge for pleasure, but is instead recollecting the form of Beauty, an intellectual, non-sensual experience of incomparably greater moral value that yet has a very real emotional effect liable to be confused with lust by the uneducated. Socrates explains that this particular recollection does not require dialectic, but is caused immediately by the perception of beauty, which enjoys a special
See esp. 247c-e. Hackforth, 91.
106 status as the only Idea whose image is directly accessible to the senses.37 Neither the doctrine of Ideas nor that of recollection is fully intelligible without the mediating power of a third core Platonic doctrine, dialectic, for according to one interpretation at least, the clarification and grasp of Ideas is the chief goal of dialectic.38 Originally the name of Socrates' conversational method of philosophizing, in the Phaedrus dialectic is no longer just elenchus, critical interrogation that aims to answer questions of the "What is X?" type while leading to refutation of the uncritically held opinions of various interlocutors, but approaches something much more like a system of logic. It still retains some aspects of the earlier meanings, but goes beyond them in envisioning the conversational process as aiming at the clarification of general terms by a process of definition known as division and collection.39 As Socrates later points out, he uses this method at the beginning of the palinode to identify love as one of four forms of divine madness.40 Dialectic in this sense is the activity par excellence of the philosopher, and clearly distinguishes him from the rhetorician, who does nothing of the sort.41 Some scholars think the Phaedrus marks the first appearance of this more advanced conception of dialectic, and that it went on later to form the methodo-
37
250b-e. "The objective [of Plato's dialectic] remains throughout [his dialogues] that we should attain a clear vision of realities as they are in themselves, not confusing one with another" (Crombie, 2:563). See also A.E. Taylor, Plato: The Man and His Work, 4th ed. (London: Methuen, 1937), 313. 39 See Cushman, 117,'l72sq. 40 265b-d; 244b-245b, 249d. 41 266b-c, 269b-c, 277e-278d. 38
107 logical core of several late period dialogues. Socrates invokes dialectic as part of the palinode's synoptic resume of philosophy. Deep in his eschatological account of the rewards and punishments due virtue and vice, he explains that it is impossible for a soul to take human form unless it has seen some truth. For a human being to understand, he must reckon things up by kind, using reason to pass from many perceptions to a comprehensive unity, and this is recollection of the things our souls saw when traveling with god, looking down on the things we now call real, and ascending to true being.43 This is clearly a key passage. It cites the complex cognitive process of abstraction as a definitive or essential characteristic of human rationality, and seems to allude to the late-period logical doctrine of division and collection and to equate it somehow with the middle-period doctrine of recollection and its corollary, the theory of Ideas.44 Its quick review of the meta-
42
RMV xil; PTK, 264; Norman Gulley, Plato's Theory of Knowledge (London: Methuen, 1962), 108; HGP 4:431 n. 1; Ferrari, Cicadas, 19. Compare Phaedrus 265d-266b, Sophist 253d, and Statesman 285a-b. 43 Aec yap av^pwrcov cruvievoa XCCT' el&oc; Xey6(xevov, EXTCOXXWVlov odo-'9'7]o"ecov elq EV Xoyia^w ^uvatpoujjievov TOUTO &' eaxtv ayajxvyjai.i; exeivcov a TCOX' EISEV I^JJWOV Y]tyvy?],a-upropeuS-eTera 9eai xcd u-jTEpiSouaa a vuv elvcui cpafiev xal <xvaxuij;aaa sic, TO 6V OVTG><; (249b8—c4). See ch. 5, 133. 44 This is to argue that the verb auvaipew denotes collection, the first phase of the new method of dialectic, and is synonymous with the terms auvdcyw and cruvopaw used at 265d and 266b to indicate that process; it clearly shares the root of Sioapeco, the technical term for division. HGP 4:427-28, contra Thompson, 107 n. and Adam [The Republic of Plato, 2 vols., ed. J. Adam (Cambridge: The University Press, 1902)], 2:173, argues that ouvoapeco does not refer to collection in the technical sense. Griswold, 116, 173-74, 275-77 nn. 13-18, gives seven reasons for siding with Guthrie and cites numerous authorities. Scott, 362 n. 42, offers his own reasons for adopting a similar position. On the other side, Julius Stenzel, Plato 's Method of Dialectic, tr. DJ. Allan (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1940), sees this as a reference to collection "chosen in order to indicate the contrast with Sioapslv," (154 n.) but agrees with von Arnim [Platos Jugenddialoge und die Entstehungszeit des Phaidros (Leipzig: B.G. Teubner, 1914), 198] that the passage seems to put the "apriorist" doctrine of recollection in direct conflict with the empiricist dialectical procedure of abstraction of the class-concept from many perceptions (150); Reale, 307, finds the technical sense: "owoapoujzevov . . . fa riferimento al procedimento sinottico del metodo dialettico, che porta dalla molteplicita a cogliere l'unita"; Martin Heidegger, Plato's Sophist, tr. Rojcewitcz and Schuwer (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), 231, held the same view in 1925, and apparently did not consider it controversial; Gulley, 108, agrees.
108 physics of the charioteer myth seems to suggest a subtle attempt to rationalize the myth, and may offer readers a glimpse of the author's design. At the very least, Socrates' mention of the one/many dichotomy and his stress on cognitive utility anticipate his later praise of the method of division and collection, reflect the same didactic strategy he used to introduce philosophic doctrines in the middle speech for later development in the palinode, and exemplify the horticultural metaphor he spells out in the post-palinodic discussion.45
Psychology, Restraint, and Moral Education Feigning support for its position on love and lovers, the middle speech outlined a bipartite moral psychology. It posited two principles in the soul, innate desire and acquired opinion, and argued that the rule of the former leads to hubris or outrageous conduct, and that the rule of the latter leads to restraint or moderate conduct.46 After claiming that love, like gluttony and drunkenness, is a kind of hubris, it begged its question by arguing that lovers are harmful and disgusting without appeal to its ostensible psychological premise. Socrates delineates a moral psychology in the palinode too, but actually uses it this time to support his account of love and lovers. He presents this more sophisticated scheme in the famous charioteer myth, likely the single most memorable feature of the Phaedrus. The myth presents three fundamental psychological principles whose natural tendencies and in-
45 46
276b-277a. Here and in what follows, "restraint" translates the Greek awcppoauvY); see above, 65-68.
109 teractions explain the underlying causes of human conduct. In the myth's first installment,47 Socrates gives a vivid, detailed account of the structure and operation of disembodied individual souls in their primordial state or homeland, and likens the soul to a chariot drawn by two horses, one black and fractious, the other white and obedient. Many consider the charioteer myth a reprise of the Republic's tripartite soul.48 The black horse stands for e7U&ufjixa, the concupiscible part of the soul; the white horse for 9-ufi.6<;, the irascible part of the soul; and the charioteer for TO AoyiaTixov, the rational or calculative part of the soul, which Socrates describes as a sort of homunculus not unlike the inner man of Republic 9. The struggle of these three psychological principles to govern the chariot's course explains analogically the volitions of the whole soul, and thus of the moral agent. The charioteer tries to control his horses so the chariot can make orderly progress, and the horses provide the necessary motive force. Human and divine souls have similar structures, but the gods' horses are better balanced, so progress is easier for them. In the second installment of the myth,49 Socrates demonstrates the practical explanatory power of his psychological model, and depicts the emotional turmoil an embodied human soul suffers due to mixed motivations during an erotic encounter. When the lover sees a beautiful body, the erotic spectacle has a twofold effect on his soul. The lustful black horse 47
246a-248c. For this identification: Paul Shorey, What Plato Said (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1933), 200, 552; RMV CXXXVIII-DC; Hackforth, 72; Ferrari, Cicadas, 125-26; 185; Nicholson, Love, 163; against: Robinson, Psychology, 117, White, Rhetoric, 89-93. 49 253c-257a. 48
no lunges forward, hoping to gain satisfaction at the target's expense, but the charioteer remembers the form of Beauty, which he beheld during his sojourn in heaven, and reacts emotionally with awe and reverence for the beloved's divine qualities. He is aghast at the lewd impulse of the black horse, enlists the white horse to help rein it in, and the black horse is broken into submission, but the tension is never fully resolved, so the lover must always fight to restrain himself and sublimate his brute desire for gratification. The palinode's psychology is better than the middle speech's. It not only narrates the interaction of its three principles to explain and justify them, but it is more complete, for it describes a third principle that the middle speech lacked. The two horses are loosely equivalent to the middle speech's innate desire and acquired opinion, but the charioteer, human reason, has no equivalent there. This is a major flaw. By claiming opinion uses reason to lead to what is best,50 the middle speech subordinates reason to opinion and denies it full status as a psychological principle. This is not only corrupt, since reason, the key to morality, is a divine faculty capable of insight into the highest truths, but it is sloppy thinking too, since opinion, strictly speaking, is the result of the operation of the cognitive faculty, not a faculty itself.51 Despite its lip service to deliberation, the middle speech fails because it subordinates human reason to S6£<x (opinion, honor, or reputation) and thus makes men slaves to convention. The palinode is better: the white horse represents an active capacity of the soul that, though it is a 50
237e. This is true whether one takes opinion to have its own particular objects, as at Republic 5.477a-b, or whether it is just a weak or incomplete form of knowledge, as in the Meno. See HGP 4:263-64, 489-93. 51
Ill lover of honor and companion of true opinion, obeys reason instead of ruling it.52 The middle speech defined restraint as the rule of opinion aiming for right conduct, but failed to develop the notion because it focused instead on hubris, a vice it claimed was the lover's dominant trait. The palinode supplies a fuller account of restraint53 by dividing it into two kinds, human and divine.54 Human restraint, the shrewd judgment Lysias cited as leading to the choice of a non-lover, is a demotic or popular virtue no better than wicked cunning,55 an instrumental drive to maximize utility by resisting some pleasures in order to gain greater ones of the same class.56 Divine restraint is a philosophic virtue that consists in the habitual submission of the lower desires for pleasure, wealth, and honor to the higher, rational desire for truth and learning. It entails a basic revaluation of the ends of human life, not merely the discovery of new means to pre-established ends. This division and elaboration marks a profound advance over the middle speech's view of restraint. The distinction between vulgar and divine restraint stems from Socrates' diagnosis of the chief fault of his first speech, its defamation of Eros. To rectify this fault, he must show that love is divine, and that in its highest manifestation as educational eros, it is divinely restrained, that is, celibate. Socrates refers to demotic or "mortal" restraint implicitly several 52
253d. Forms of the noun awcppocjuvv) appear seven times in the palinode, forms of the cognate verb uwcppovew three times, and of the cognate adjective awcppwv once; all are translated here as restraint. 54 North, 179, recognizes this distinction, as does Terence Irwin, Plato's Moral Theory (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977), 172-74. 55 Lysias is described at 227d as 8etvoTaTO<; . . . TCOV VUV ypacpet-v, and the Eroticus as a Seivov Xoyov at 242d. See Aristotle's discussion of Ss(.voT7]Ta at Ethica Nicomachea 6.1144a23-30. 56 This is the self-indulgent restraint criticized at Phaedo 68e-69a. 53
112 times,57 but calls it by name only at the end of the palinode, where he sums up his speech by comparing philosophic and philotimic love, and contrasting them with non-love.58 Philosophic love excludes favors, and thus requires restraint of the dark horse. This restraint is divine since it reflects the influence of Eros, "a god, or something divine."59 Lovers choosing the philosophic life three successive times escape the cycle of rebirth, and ascend directly to the ultimate reward, whereas lovers unable to restrain their black horses fall short of this standard, partake of the common Aphrodite, and exchange favors, a choice second-best by philosophic standards, yet still reflecting divine erotic madness. By contrast, Intimacy with a man not in love, since it is diluted with mortal restraint, attends to mortal, paltry things, and engenders in the dear soul a servility that, though praised by the multitudes as virtue, will doom it to nine thousand unreasoning years tossing about the earth and underground.60 Uniting several palinodic themes, this scathing indictment uses the divine/vulgar dichotomy to convert the non-lover's vaunted restraint from purported asset to actual liability: because his restraint is vulgar, a non-lover is the worst choice. Socrates never calls divine restraint by name, but the notion is implicit in the references to mortal restraint just quoted, and is also asserted outright in three passages that describe restraint as one of the Ideas, a class of divine entities. The first passage relates his vi57
244a6, b2, d4, 245a8, b4, 256b6, e5. Rowe, 189, drawing on Republic 9.5 80d sq., characterizes Lysian non-love as philokerdic love. 59 242el. 60 C H Se dmo TOU \xt\ epcovcoc; OIY.ZIOXI\Q, awcppoauvy] Q-VTJTY) x£xpa[ievr], Q-VYJTIX TS xal cpecSwXa (uxovofiouaa, dveAeuikplav UTIO T:\''(\§OX>C, e7ioavoufjiv7]v &q ape-CYjv TTJ cpiXv) <\>uyf\ evxsxouaa, svvea yiki6&a.q exwv rtepl yrjv xuAt-vSou^evTjv OCUTTJV xal UTT:6 yfj? dtvouv Ttape^si (256e4-257a2). 58
113 sion of soul's supercelestial homeland and primordial encounter with Being. And in its circuit, it observes Justice itself, it observes Restraint, and it observes Knowledge, not knowledge wherein becoming is present, nor knowledge that is somehow different in different cases since it is of the things we now call realities, but really real Knowledge in something that really is Being.61 Most of this sentence concerns knowledge and its relation to being, but the properties attributed to knowledge may be extended to the other two virtues in the list. Unlike the everyday objects of sense perception that are subject to the flux of the physical world, Restraint itself has no admixture of becoming, but is stable, permanent, and unchanging. Really real Restraint is not an imitation, but is "in" something that really is being.62 Everyday mundane knowledge and restraint inhere in the souls of those who have them as virtues, the Cephalus who is just, or the Euthyphro who, as an eyewitness, knows his father killed a man.63 When these virtues are separated from the souls that possess them, as they must be when they are understood as disembodied paradigmatic Ideas, they must inhere in something (xw), and that something is really real Being, the contents of the supercelestial place.64 The overall tenor of the passage emphasizes knowledge, and Restraint itself is an ob-
61
'Ev Se TY] rcepioSw xoc&opa (JLCV ai>TY]v SixcaoauvTjv, xa&opa Se aw
114 ject of knowledge, suggesting that, if only its Idea could be known, then one would in every case know the restrained thing to do. The passage intellectualizes morality, and thus underscores the notion that moral progress requires intellectual progress, so that to be good, a speech about a moral topic must be true, not just neatly packaged. Restraint appears again in a list of virtue Ideas several pages later: It is not possible for anyone to behold the glow of Justice, Restraint, and the many other things that are an honor to souls in their likenesses here, but a select few who study the images are able, just barely and with imperfect instruments, to behold the class of things so reproduced.65 Socrates here is describing the general characteristics of restraint qua Idea. What he calls the "other things that are an honor to souls"66 are the virtues understood as a class. Ideas of virtues, like all Ideas, cannot be seen in this world, but are intelligible entities visible only to intellect, jxovcp &£GCTY] VCO. What can be seen here is a likeness or ELXWV of the Idea, but this is not the same as seeing the original. Only a select few, oL oXiyoi, the philosophers, can come close to an adequate appreciation of the original Idea, and even for them, it is very hard work done by means of hypothetical arguments, the "imperfect instruments" sometimes taken to be the human senses. The senses certainly are weak, but do not fit the context as well: everyone has sense perception, but only a few are sophisticated enough to use philosophic arguments. fj.6vw Q-SOCTY] vu, itepl v)v TO TTJ<; aAv)9-ou<; e7tt.crof)[j.7)£ ysvoc;, TOUTOV eyei TOV TOTCOV (247c6-dl). 65 AixoaoauvY]<; [ikv ouv xal arwcppocruvT]^ xai oaa aXXa TLJUOCtyuy_aZc,oux Iveo-ri cpsyyoi; ouSev iv xolc, TTJSE 6(j.oi.w(jiaac.v, aXXa Sc' a[j.uSp(ov opyavwv [loyic, aurwv xal o'kiyoL, ercl xaq SLXOVOC^ IOVXZQ, 9-ewvTaa TO TOU etxaar&EVTOt; yevo<; (250b2-6). 66 This phrase really just means "and so on." The language of praise has its limits, for TL(JLY), honor, is normally a secondary good, as at 256c 1 or Republic 8.545a-b; applying it to virtue is like gilding the proverbial lily.
115 Restraint appears again in the erotic encounter between the lover and his beloved. The lover approaches when his dark horse overcomes the resistance of the other two parts of his soul, whereupon he beholds the other's physical beauty. When the charioteer sees, his memory is conveyed toward the nature of Beauty, and again he sees her mounted on a holy pedestal with Restraint.67 The charioteer's behavior is entirely unlike the lustful dark horse's, for he represents the rational part of the soul, which has access to the other world, the intelligible world of Ideas. The image he sees reminds him of real, paradigmatic Beauty, one of the Ideas he beheld before his descent into a mortal body. He intellectualizes the spectacle, and it prompts longing in him, but a longing for knowledge, not bodily pleasure, because qua Idea, Beauty is an object of knowledge, not lust: cpuaiv here is a synonym for el$oq or Idea. The claim that the Ideas are mounted on a holy pedestal is not literal, but underscores their relative divinity: they are better than the things that participate in them, just as gods are better than mere mortals. Beauty and Restraint are both Ideas, so they are both on the pedestal, as a row of votive images or idols might be in a pagan temple. The charioteer regards these things with the same awe and reverence that would be appropriate in a religious context. Restraint is an essential component of truly moral behavior, and stands at the crossroads where noetic intuition of ends, rational deliberation of means, and spirited longing for human approbation meet. This is clear in Socrates' description of the white horse, the 67
'ISOVTCK; &e xou r\vi6you Y] fJ-v^pr] Trp6<; TYJV TOU xaXXouc; cpuaiv r]\)ij&Y], x a l iraXiv eiSev ao-rqv (j.£-ca crwcppoauvTjt; ev ayvw (SaSpw (3e(3ax7av (254b6-8).
116 &uu.o£i§Y]c; or spirited part of the soul. The first of the two horses wears the right-hand harness, has an upright posture, and is well-built; he carries his neck high, has a moderately hooked nose, is white in appearance, has dark eyes, is a lover of honor with restraint and shame, and is a comrade of genuine reputation; he needs no whip, but is driven by reason with just a command.68 This passage symbolizes the positive aspects of xhjfjioc; by attributing comely physical and moral qualities to a horse. The description contrasts sharply with that of the black horse, whose traits symbolize what is morally unattractive about eTU&ujxLa, unchecked animal desire. The passage associates restraint with honor, shame, and good reputation, and so marks morality as fundamentally social in origin and based on the universal human desire for esteem. But morality does not end in the court of popular opinion, for there is a deeper source of insight and propriety that must be allowed the final judgment in normative matters, and that is reason.69 Really real being, ouaia. ovxto^ ouaa, is visible to mind alone, fxovw ikorcY) vcp, which Socrates calls the ^ X ^ xu(3epvY)T7], pilot of the soul.70 The charioteer is thus no mere shrewd calculative power, but a receptive noetic faculty capable of teleological insight. Socrates' presentation of so many doctrines in such short compass clearly indicates he is teaching Phaedrus a lesson in fleshing out the middle speech's vague philosophic allusions, for he says far more than would be necessary if persuading Phaedrus that Lysias's thesis is 68
' 0 (xsv TOOVUV auToIv sv Tvj xaXXiovi aracrsi. a>v TO TE eZSoc; opQ-oc; xai SiTjp&ptofj.svcx;, uijjaux7]^ eTTiypuTioi;, Xeuxo<; tSelv, [ieXa.v6\i[).axoc;, xi[U]c, epa(rnf)<; fieraCTw
117 false were his only goal. Yet he goes beyond what even an introductory or protreptic philosophy lecture would require, to the extent of delineating a theory of education that, because it is way over Phaedrus's head, may be intended just as much or more for the dialogue's readers than for Phaedrus himself. The crux of the theory rests on an innovative theology that explains why the gods are divine and how men can acquire divinity for themselves.71 Emulation of the gods' moral and epistemic virtues via Socratic doctrinal practices leads to participation in blessedness and immortality, so philosophy promises the best life for man and provides the ultimate justification for educational eros. The literature review at the beginning of this chapter showed that, though educational themes are often invoked as buzzwords in scholarly literature on the Phaedrus, there has been no concerted effort to analyze what the dialogue actually says about education. The theme's thread runs through the whole dialogue, but is particularly concentrated in two installments, the first late in the palinode, and the second later in the dialogue in conjunction with the better-known critique of writing. The present section focuses on the first of these. Socrates presents philosophy as the preeminent system of education and a paradigm for all others; the Lysian dilemma is merely a false dichotomy, for authentic love is strictly educational and thus always beneficial. The best philosophic love manifests itself as a divinely inspired quest to find, educate, and share a life devoted to the practice of philosophy 71
Socrates rejects the traditional anthropomorphic conception of the gods at 246d; at 249c, he redefines divinity as exposure to real being, that is, the Ideas, so that human and divine souls differ not genetically, but by degree. Only philosophers grow wings and ascend to the divine, because only they study the Ideas.
118 with a promising pupil. This is a special case of a broader pattern whereby lovers of all kinds try to attract potentially godlike youths in order to help them actualize innate divine qualities. Twelve kinds of lovers follow the twelve Olympian gods, and populate their choruses or squadrons in heaven. Each of the twelve gods represents a different character trait or type of soul, just as each god in the pantheon represents certain ideals or presides over a particular range of concerns and activities. Socrates refers to five of them by name: Zeus, Hera, Apollo, Ares, and Hestia. Each god is the patron of its votaries, and provides a model for them to emulate. Because of his age and experience, the lover is more advanced in the process of becoming like his god than is the beloved he courts, yet the beloved already shows definite signs of belonging to that god's entourage, and his incipient divine attributes attract the lover, who desires to nurture such qualities as much as possible so the beloved can become more like him and so more like the god they serve. The particular god under whose auspices the beloved is courted determines the nature and characteristics of the love relation itself.72 Eros is a polysemous term, and can be just as destructive and blameworthy under the auspices of Ares as it is beneficial and praiseworthy when inspired by Zeus. Ares may well be a proxy for Lysias, whose notion of love included jealousy, ill will, and mayhem.73 Two key concerns coalesce in Zeus, for he is both king of the gods and the philosopher's god, a combination that echoes the Republic's dual contention that kingship is the best form of gov72
252dl-e7. See esp. 231c7-8, 232c3-4, and 233c2-5; Ares may not be intended here as a true god anyway, since the first law of theology at Republic 2.378e-380e forbids stories that attribute anything bad to a god. 73
119 ernment, and that a philosopher is the ideal king.74 The two extremes represented by Zeusian and Arean love likely bracket the other ten forms of love, and anchor a hierarchy of twelve varieties of love. This recasts the debate over the true nature of love, for it argues that love is not one thing, but a genus with many species, all of which, despite differing features, can accurately be called love. This opens up a new avenue for the application of dialectic, though the dialogue never explores it. Socrates argues in the Republic that the gods cannot be blamed as the source of anything bad,75 yet it is hard to see how Arean love can be considered a blessing, since it occasions bad things. The difficulty is only apparent, for Eros manifests the fundamental axiological orientation of the soul, its natural striving for goodness. Eros determines neither the ends actually sought, which may be based on a misapprehension of the good, nor the methods used to channel desire, which may vary in effectiveness as they are based on more or less accurate understandings of human nature. Eros, as the bare potentiality for goal-oriented behavior, provides a visceral push in the soul's quest for the good, but may be corrupted if directed towards false ends. Individual souls must still bear responsibility for the ends and means they choose, which is where philosophy comes into play, for it conduces to the good life by inculcating the habit of intellectual effort and conveying the results of past inquiry.
The resulting combination of moral and intellectual virtue is a priceless recipe for human
74 75
Republic 9.580a-c, 5.473c-e. Republic 2.379c.
120 flourishing, and philosophy a peerless system of moral education. The beloved's beauty is initially responsible for the philosophic lover's approach, for it starts the process of recollection. But the beloved's character fuels the relationship, and his excellence as a partner in dialectic turns it into a lasting philosophic friendship. It is only with such a partner that a lover, even a consummate lover like Socrates, is able to recollect truth, because dialectic is not a solitary activity, but necessarily a shared one. Philosophy is the best kind of love, for it binds kindred souls together in the dialectical pursuit of truth as instruments in each other's salvation. The palinode is a clear improvement on the Eroticus and middle speech, and a shining example of philosophic education and moral problem solving working in tandem. It teaches a series of doctrines, corrects and amplifies seminal themes of the middle speech, and crowns its achievement with a theory of education that justifies love, rejects Lysian moral corruption, and celebrates philosophy as the ultimate culture of the soul.
Chapter Five Philosophic Rhetoric: A Remedy for Moral Corruption This chapter studies the culmination in the final third of the Phaedrus of Socrates' effort to save Phaedrus from moral corruption. Chapter two examined the Eroticus, the muddled seduction speech that Phaedrus read aloud near the beginning of the dialogue, which contrasted lovers with non-lovers in sixteen short arguments to claim that one should grant sexual favors to someone who is not in love. Phaedrus praised the speech's clever phrasing, but failed to notice its disorganized structure and immoral thesis. Socrates took this as a sign that corruption was impairing his judgment, and replied with a second, extempore speech that clarified the immoral thesis by recasting it as a single argument defining love as a vice and rejecting lovers as harmful and disgusting. Chapter three argued that this middle speech began the process of curing Phaedrus by teaching him a cogent organizing principle and introducing elements of a better moral position. But halfway through it, citing the impiety of the anti-erotic thesis, Socrates broke off abruptly and turned to stronger remedies in a palinode that used techniques ranging from definition and proof to myth and narrative to teach the truth about erotic choice and refute the corrupt thesis of the Eroticus. As chapter four explained, this third speech redefined love as recollection, a profound experience of the rational, not the appetitive soul, explored the premises and implications of the new definition, and concluded that one should prefer a lover, but instead of sex, pursue chaste friendship that fosters intellectual and moral growth. After the palinode, when Socrates asks whether it would be good to examine questions raised by the three speeches, Phaedrus's response shows 121
122 that he grasped the lesson that there are nobler pursuits than crude hedonism. You ask whether we should? What else should one live for, so to speak, than pleasures of this sort? Certainly not for those whose enjoyment requires one to suffer pain beforehand, which is the case with nearly all bodily pleasures, and is why they are justly called slavish.1 Despite the lingering corruptive effect of his rhetorical studies, there is hope for Phaedrus, for the palinode has helped him recall and apply a key philosophic doctrine, awakened him to the moral implications of the erotic question, and prepared him for a more advanced lesson.2 In the long discussion that concludes the Phaedrus, Socrates turns from the supporting theme of love to articulate several important lessons about philosophic cures for moral corruption. He identifies sophistic rhetoric as a serious threat to public morality, to the character and judgment of students, and as the source of Phaedrus's difficulties in particular.3 He accepts the idea of an organized art of speech, but considers the sophistic system dangerously misleading, and proposes specific measures to improve or replace it.4 He cites three ways so-
1
'EptoTai; el Se6fi.£&a; TLVOQ JJLEV oov evexa xav xi<; &c, elneZv £UY] aXX' r) TWV TO(.OUTWV TQSOVWV Ivexa; Ou yap TTOU exetvcov ye wv 7rpoXuTC7)97Jva(. Sei r) (j.Y)8e YjdiHjvoa, o ST) oXiyou Ttaaai at Tiepi TO a&fxa -/jSoval eyouai' 8io xal Sixaiax; avSpaTtoSwSeii; xexXYjvxai. (258el-5). 2 Phaedrus is no philosopher, but this passage does suggest previous exposure to philosophic discussions of morality: the palinode does not supply the analytic framework or specific terms he appeals to here, but he must have learned them somewhere (cf. Republic 9.583c sq. and Philebus 51a sq., esp. 52a-b; also Gorgias 496c497a). The Protagoras and Symposium witness his exposure to a wide range of cultural influences. 3 To restore Phaedrus's cognitive and moral health, Socrates must do more than just teach the right opinion about erotic choice. To be effective, the lesson must explain the nature and origin of moral corruption in terms broad enough to help Phaedrus recognize and avoid future threats, so Socrates abstracts from the Eroticus to evaluate its genus and species, rhetoric and writing. This conceptual ascent is an integral step in the development and articulation of the dialogue's overall argument, not a change of subject. 4 Rhetoric is an established civic institution with legitimate functions, so seeking its abolition would be neither desirable nor realistic. Phaedrus has invested time, effort, and probably money too studying it, and his talents are worth nurturing. Socrates needs to find a balanced remedial approach that will encourage a stronger sense of self-awareness and professional responsibility, so he highlights the main flaws of the sophistic approach, sug-
123 phistic rhetoric corrupts and three corresponding ways philosophic education cures, so this chapter has three main sections. First, "Knowledge, Truth, and Diaeresis" argues that sophistic indifference to truth causes corruption that philosophy fights by teaching people to love, seek, and share knowledge of truth. Second, "Psychiatry, Psychology, and Method" argues that sophistic emphasis on technical jargon causes corruption that philosophy fights by demoting literary devices to preliminary status and putting psychology, a detailed science of the human soul, at the center of its program. Third, "Writing, Speech, and Education" argues that sophistic reliance on the emulation of written model speeches causes corruption that philosophy fights with a balanced scientific curriculum, dialectical instruction by experienced mentors, and judicious restrictions on the use of writing.
Knowledge, Truth, and Diaeresis A key source of sophistic rhetoric's corruptive force is her neglect of truth, which Socrates condemns immediately at the beginning of the discussion. How are speaking and writing done well or badly? Isn't it essential, at least for those who want to speak well and finely, that the speaker's mind know the truth about the topic he plans to address?"5 In reply, Phaedrus repeats what he has heard from his teachers: One who plans to be a speaker needn't understand what justice really is, but only the opinions of the crowd that will sit in judgment, nor what goodness and nobility really
gests alternative practices to improve or replace it, and explains how Phaedrus can help. "OTTT) xaXok; zjzi Xeyeiv xe xal ypacpstv xal ony] y.r\. . . . ~Ap' oOv ou^unap^si-v Sel xolc; eu ye xal xaXwc; p7)97]ao[iivo(.<; TTQV TOU AeyovToq Siavocav eiSuiav TO aA7]Q-e<; wv av spelv nipt. y-iXkr]; (259e2, 5-7). 5
124 are, but what it thinks, for persuasion stems from such opinions, not from truth.6 Phaedrus does not need to reveal his source, for Socrates instantly recognizes the doctrine of Tisias,7 whose contempt for truth is typical of sophistic rhetoric. This view is no idle theory, but reflects a determined effort to supplant truth with mob opinion as the foundation for public and private deliberation, and so is a dangerous source of moral corruption.8 Socrates' tone changes quickly from neutral inquiry to full advocacy of truth. Using humor to stress the gravity of conventional rhetoric's strategy of encouraging ignorance and error by pandering to the false opinions of a foolish crowd, he asks Phaedrus to imagine he is trying to convince him to buy a horse to use in war, that neither of them knows what a horse is, but that Socrates, knowing Phaedrus thinks a horse is the tame animal with the longest ears, writes a speech praising the donkey's virtues and calling it a horse. When a speaker who knows nothing about good and evil seizes an equally ignorant city by persuasion, and sings the praises, not of an imaginary ass as though it were a horse, but of evil as though it were good, and, after studying the opinions of the crowd, persuades it to do evil deeds instead of good ones, what sort of crop do you 6
Oux elvoa avocyx7]v TW [iiXXovxi. pi]xopi soso&at -roc TW OVTI Sixoaa (juxv&avei-v, aXXa xa So^avx' av TCXYJO-EC, oi'irep Sixaaouaiv- ouSe -ra OVTGX; a y a ^ a 7) xaXa, aXX' oaa So^et.. 'Ex yap TOUTCOV elvoa TO nzi&eiv, <xXX' oux sx -c% aX^S-siai; (260al-5; cf. 272d). 7 Cf. 267a, 273a-d. 8 The inferiority of opinion, So^a, to knowledge, £Tn.cmf](XY), is a major Platonic theme. Sometimes opinion, a weak cognitive grasp of unstable sensible Becoming, is incommensurable with and so cannot be refined into knowledge, a firm grasp of fixed intelligible Being (Republic 5.475d-480a, 7.533b-534c, Timaeus 27d-28a, 51d-52a). Other times true opinion may be an inchoate pre-philosophic form of knowledge (Meno 96d-98b, Theaetetus 200d-201c); analogical reading of the term "knowledge" may help reconcile these accounts. See W.G. Runciman, Plato's Later Epistemology (Cambridge: The University Press, 1962), 37-38; HGP 4:489-93, 5:103-6; Crombie 2:33-135; Cushman 101-29; Yvon Lafrance, La theorie platonicienne de la doxa (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1981), 13-15. Plato scorns popular opinion (Republic 6.493a-d, Crito 46c-48b), and criticizes rhetoric's appeal to ignorant crowds as a kind of intentional pandering or flattery, xoXaxsIa (also Oometa), that aims at gratification, not the good (Gorgias 462b-467a, 500e-503b, 513d-e; cf. Republic 9.579a-e; Theaetetus 173a, 175e; Laws 1.633d-634a; 10.906b-<;, 12.948c).
125 suppose rhetoric will reap from the seeds she has sown?9 Rather than give specific examples of actual harm caused by doxic persuasion,10 Socrates uses a metaphorical question to lead Phaedrus to see for himself that it is bad. By likening persuasion and its result to the familiar horticultural processes of sowing and harvest, he expresses the complex notion that words lead to beliefs, beliefs lead to actions, and actions have natural consequences. These are predictably good when the words, beliefs, and actions leading to them are good, and bad when these causes are bad, so false claims about moral topics are dangerous. The more convincing such claims are, the more harmful they are, and so the more culpable the speaker and those who empower him.11 In the spirit of fair open inquiry, Socrates quotes what he imagines Rhetoric herself would say in response to this criticism, but does not mean thereby to withdraw his censure. I don't require anyone to learn to speak without knowing the truth; in fact, my advice, if anything, would be to pick me up after getting the truth. But this I do declare, that without me, a man who knows the truth will be no more able to persuade with skill than one who doesn't.12
9
"OTOCV OOV 6 pYjxopixo? dyvowv dya&ov xai xaxov, Xa(3wv TCOXIV waauxwc; s^ouaav TTSL&Y), (JLYJ rcepl ovou OY.10LQ &><; Imzou TOV srcoavov TtoLou[i.£VO<;, dXXd nepl xaxou ax; dya&ou, §6^a<; Ss TIXYJO-OIX; [A£fi.eX£TY)xax; TCZIOJI xocxd r:pdxT£t.v dvx' dyaiKov, irolov txva olei [isrd xaura TYJV pYiTopix^v xaprcov GOV s'cnreipe ftepc&xv; (260c6-dl). I Doxic persuasion aims to instill false or only incidentally true opinions, and is the antithesis of education, which is persuasion to truth; 260a, c-d, 273a-b; cf. Republic 6.493a-c, Gorgias 454e^t55a, Theaetetus 201a-c. II Here Socrates cites the negative moral consequences of effective deception, but the techne protest he is about to present (at 260d8-9) shifts the question to whether doxic rhetoric is even effective. 12 «'Eywydp ouSev' dyvoouvxa TdX7]9-£<; dvayxd^w [j.av9-dvELV Xeysiv, dXX', et xi k\a\ au^jSouXv], xT7)aa[JL£Vov sxelvo OUTOX; i\xk Xajx^dvetv. ToSe 8' ouv piya Xeyw, aq avsu ejxou TW xd ovxa SISOTX OUSSV TI \i5Xkov eaxoa neifteiv TEXVT]» (260d5-9); 260a and 272b—273a feign defense of rhetoric too. Socrates may have Gorgias in mind here, for the sophist offers a similar apologetic at Gorgias 456c-462b. The passages may even reflect an actual dispute between the historical characters themselves.
126 Socrates is playing his own devil's advocate here by assigning a caricature of his position to an imaginary, personified "Rhetoric," for Phaedrus is not adequately prepared to defend the discipline. This imaginary opponent denies using force, even though Socrates' donkey analogy never mentioned force, only the dangers of doxic persuasion. Yet the point is a valid one, for rhetoric's reputation as a route to power and influence makes it easy to see how offering to teach it could be construed as force, as some would find such incentives compelling. Second, "Rhetoric" would recommend that interested parties take her up only after learning the truth, so should a prospective student happen to ask, she would advise him to learn about morality first. This is vague in the text and misleading even in translation, for she does not concretely claim to have ever given such advice, or to have encouraged, much less required, anyone to learn about morality, but merely insinuates that this is so. Yet it is a grudging admission of truth's value, or at least a tacit refusal to defend the extreme position of her founder Tisias. Finally she says, without rhetoric, a man who knows will be no more able to persuade skillfully13 than one who does not. Strictly speaking, this is a red herring to divert attention from the truth question, but Socrates takes the bait, and turns it to his own advantage in proving the necessity of truth. To bar confusion, he explains his plan:
13
That is, by x£XVYl (skill, craft, or art), a key sub-theme of the discussion. "Techne . . . connotes . . . a systematic body of knowledge which can be taught and which follows rather well formulated rules" (NW, xxx). "A techne is the capacity to produce the right results in a given sphere, based on a knowledge of the relevant principles" (Rowe, ad loc). In the Gorgias, Gorgias argues that he is not responsible for abuses by his students because rhetoric is a craft. This is really two separate claims: first, that rhetoric is a craft, and second, that the teacher of a craft is not morally liable for its abuse by his students. Socrates would deny both claims, but here he concentrates on the first.
127 I'd agree, if the ensuing arguments would testify that rhetoric is a craft. But as it is, I seem to hear those arguments coming forward and presenting evidence that she's lying and that she's no craft, but a crude routine, for as the Spartans say, "There neither is, nor will there ever be, any real craft of speech without the grasp of truth."14 By personifying rhetoric, hauling her into court to face charges, and exposing her techne claim as a sham, Socrates gives a metaphorical preview of his strategy in the next thirteen pages.15 Logos, the word he uses here for "argument," can also mean "speech," so Phaedrus thinks he is being offered another speech, and is eager to listen. Socrates imitates the middle speech's short formal invocation and initial definition, but begins a philosophic argument that shares little but a name with rhetorical speeches. Saying he aims to turn Phaedrus to philosophy, he obeys his own logographic rule of starting with a definition.16 Isn't it true that, generally conceived, rhetoric is a sort of craft for leading souls by speech, not just in courts and other large public assemblies, but also in private, concerning matters great and small alike, and that, when it is done well, there is nothing more esteemed in business or pleasure?17 This definition expands rhetoric beyond Phaedrus's courts and assembly,18 but more impor-
14
t][ii, lav OL y ' i-Kiovzzq auxf) Xoyot. ^apTupakriv elvai xeyyt]. "D.anzp yap axouei.v Soxw TLVUV TtpoaiovTcov xal 8iap.apTopo(Jievcov Xoyaw OTL i|>eu§eTat. xal oux iaxi xiyyi), aXX' ocxeyyoc, xpi$rt\- «Tou 8e Xeyeiv, [cprjalv 6 Aaxcov,] exuixoc, xeyyt] avsu TOU aXY)9-elac; YJcp&aa, OUT' eoriv OUTE y.t] noxe uaxepov y£V7)Toa» (260e2-7); on rhetoric as a crude routine, cf. Gorgias 462b-c. 15 See the beginning of the psychology section, below, for the continuation of the techne theme. 16 For initial definition see 237b-238c, elaborated at 262c-266c; the "techne logos" runs from 261a3 to 272b2. 17 'A.p' ouv ou TO fj.ev oXov Y] pvjTopi-xv) av zir\ TE^VT] <]^x>ja.y<jr{ia. xic, Sea Xoycov, ou [xovov sv S(.xacjT7]pt.o!.<; xal oaot. aXXot. STjfj.oaiot. auXXoyoi., aXXa xal h) lSloc<;, TJ auTY] a^t-xpwv TS xal (xeyaXtov Kept., xal ouSsv evT(.[j.6Tepov, TO ye 6p&6v, Kepi cnrouSala rj Kepi cpauXa yiyvofxevov; (261a8-b2). 18 Cf. 261b5-6, Kepi Ta<; Slxa? . . . xal Kepi S7]p.7)yopLa<;. As avTt.Xoyt.x7] xijyi] (261dll-e2), rhetoric is not limited to the courts and assembly, but (in a generalization Socrates fudges as "likely") it concerns all speech since the Eleatic Palamedes does it. This is presumably Zeno of Elea (the standard interpretation: Thompson, ad loc; Hackforth, 124 n. 1; De Vries, ad loc; Rowe, ad loc; RMV CLXXXIX-CXC, 100 n. 4 ad 61; Brisson, 222 n. 335; Reale, 242 n. ad 261d6-8; Constantin Ritter, Platons Dialog Phaidros, 2d ed. [Leipzig: Felix Meiner, 1922], 132-33 n. 100; Wolfgang Buchwald, Platon: Phaidros [Munich: Ernst Heimeran Verlag, 1964], 186 n. ad 261b/c;
128 tantly, widens its genus from persuasion to soul-leading.19 Already drawing on the doctrine of diaeresis he is about to present, Socrates articulates a sibling-species relation between doxic and epistemic persuasion, reserves a place for philosophic rhetoric, and passes, as he did with love, from blame to praise to promote rhetoric's right-hand, didactic side as a blessing and relegate its left-hand, deceitful side to censure.20 Socrates raises the issue of deceit when he tells Phaedrus that antilegein, skill in arguing both sides of a question, is the basis of forensic and deliberative rhetoric, and that since rhetorical techniques are in theory truth-indifferent and applicable to either side, the betterskilled speaker will prevail regardless of the intrinsic justice or goodness of the side he argues.21 Yet if skill can make an unjust or bad cause triumph, it is only by persuading a jury or assembly that it is just or good, for that is how they will vote: no one chooses something bad Luis Gil Fernandez, Platon: Fedro [Madrid: Instituto de Estudios Politicos, 1957], LII, 55 n. 63; Frantisek Novotny, Platon: Faidros, 5th ed. [Prague: OIKOYMENH, 2000], 83 n. 69), but Parmenides (Friedlander, 3:234, 513 n. 25), Alcidamas (D.S. Hutchinson, "Doctrines of the Mean and the Debate Concerning Skills in Fourth-Century Medicine, Rhetoric, and Ethics," Apeiron 21 [1988]: 32), and others (S. Dusanic, "Alcidamas of Elea in Plato's Phaedrus," Classical Quarterly 42 [1992]: 348 n. 16), have been suggested. 19 Socrates later repeats this definition to justify adding psychology to his new rhetorical curriculum: "The power of speech is soul-leading" (Xoyou Suva^ii; Tuy^avec ^DjcLyur^'iai o5aa, 271cll). The definition of rhetoric as an artificer of persuasion at Gorgias 455al-3 lies clearly in the background. 20 This section accepts deceit provisionally to show that no art of speech is possible without knowledge, and so seems consonant with the doctrine of the noble lie advocated in the Republic, Statesman, and Laws, but Socrates withdraws his acceptance and condemns deceit on moral grounds later in the discussion. See below, and cf. J. Hesk, Deception and Democracy in Classical Athens (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 150. 21 261c-d; deceit or a-rcaxY] was a cornerstone of Gorgian rhetoric, so he is likely the target here; W.J. Verdenius, "Gorgias' Doctrine of Deception," in The Sophists and Their Legacy, ed. G.B. Kerferd (Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1981), 116-28; C. P. Segal, "Gorgias and the Psychology of the Logos," Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 66 (1962): 99-155; T.G. Rosenmeyer, "Gorgias, Aeschylus, and Apate," The American Journal of Philology 76 (1955): 225-60; see also M. Detienne, The Masters of Truth in Archaic Greece, tr. J. Lloyd (New York: Zone Books, 1996), 107-34; NJ. Heidlebaugh, Judgment, Rhetoric, and the Problem of Incommensurability (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2001), 29-48; cf. 243a2; for a.vxikiyziv and its relation to eristic, cf. Republic 5.454a2, Sophist 226a2, 232e3, and G.B. Kerferd, The Sophistic Movement (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 59-67.
129 because he thinks it is bad, but only because he mistakenly thinks it is good.22 So rhetoric is a power to make things appear to be other than what they are, a process Socrates calls assimilation or homoiosis, while exposing an opponent's efforts to do the same.23 Phaedrus does not understand, so Socrates spells the point out for him in detail, an advantage of live instruction. Small differences between a subject and the target a speaker wants to make it resemble are harder to detect than big ones, so if the subject is very different from the target, the speaker must proceed by steps to fool his audience without getting caught.24 To fool others and avoid being fooled,25 he must know the real similarities and differences among the matters pertaining to the case, and unless he really knows his subject well, he will simply not be able to detect such similarities, large or small. So since similarities are the cause of being deceived and holding false opinions, no one could possibly have a firm skill to use them to lead others away from the truth step by step to its opposite, or to avoid having it done to him, unless he knows his subject. Speaking skill thus requires knowledge of truth, even if one
22
A suppressed but clearly required premise; cf. Gorgias 468c, 499e; Republic 6.505d-e; Laws 9.860d. 261e; Socrates identifies homoiosis as the basis of eikos in rejecting Tisian rhetoric at 273d-e. 24 261e-262a; just as an army or athlete must have both offensive and defensive strategies, a speaker must aim not only to fool his opponent, an ore Y) crew, while avoiding detection, ~kr\osic;, but he must also foil the similar aims of his opponent (dcXXou O^OIOUVTCK; xal dmoxpuTccojisvou ziq
130 aims to deceive, so opinion-hunting is a ridiculous waste of time. This refutes Tisian agnosticism,26 counters the subtler Gorgian objection,27 and shows that a procedure for discovering truth is a key prerequisite of any real art of speech. Phaedrus concurs, and gladly accepts Socrates' proposal to examine the eros speeches. So a chief cause of rhetoric's corruptive force is its disregard for truth and use of deceit. By contrast, a main source of philosophy's salutary didactic power is its grasp of a method for discovering and disseminating truth that Socrates calls division and collection, or "diaeresis" for short. This method, evidently a core Platonic doctrine,28 appears in several other dialogues, and Socrates' claims here make the Phaedrus a key text for its study.29 His fullest account of the method gives a general description of each procedure followed by a specific illustration of its function in the love speeches. Collection 26
260al-5, quoted above, 123. 260d5-9, quoted above, 125. 28 Sophist 253c-254b, Statesman 262a-263b, 285a-b, and Philebus 15d-17a are said to describe the same method: e.g., Shorey, What Plato Said, 604; RMV CLXXXIV; Harold Cherniss, Aristotle's Criticism of Plato and the Academy, (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1944), 47 n. 36; Hackforth, 134; A.C. Lloyd, "Plato's Description of Division," in Studies in Plato's Metaphysics, ed. R.E. Allen (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1965), 219-30; R.J. Teske, "Plato's Later Dialectic," The Modern Schoolman 38 (1961): 171; James Philip, "Platonic Diairesis," Transactions of the American Philological Association 97 (1966): 335; Rowe, 200; Brisson, 53-55. J.R. Trevaskis, "Division and its Relation to Dialectic and Ontology in Plato," Phronesis 12 (1967): 123, and M.V. Wedin, "Collection and Division in the Phaedrus and Statesman," Philosophical Inquiry 12 (1990): 1, emphasize context-specific differences of expression. Euthyphro 12d-e, Gorgias 462c sq., Phaedo lOle, and Republic 5.454a, 6.511b-c may offer early versions of the method according to RMV CLXXX; Philip, 335 n. 2; HGP 4:430; R.B. Levinson, "Language, Plato, and Logic," in Essays in Ancient Greek Philosophy, ed. Anton and Kustas (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1971), 270-71; J.M.E. Moravcsik, "Plato's Method of Division," in Patterns in Plato's Thought (Dordrecht: D. Reidel Publishing, 1973), 158-59, and "The Anatomy of Plato's Divisions," in Exegesis and Argument, ed., Lee, Mourelatos, and Rorty (New York: Humanities Press, 1973), 325, so its novelty in the Phaedrus, pace Hackforth, 9, 134; Gulley, 108, et al., may be overstated; see J.M. Van Ophuijsen, "The Continuity of Plato's Dialectic: An Afterword," in Plato and Platonism (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1999), 292-313. 29 Socrates lauds the method (265c-d) for helping him define eros (263d-e) and organize his speeches (264a-e); he even "loves" it for enabling him to speak and think (266b3-5); Lysias failed because he lacks it (263a-c). 27
131 Brings widely scattered things together by viewing them under one idea, so that one can clarify any subject he may ever want to teach by defining it; this is exactly how the recent statements about love were meant: whether its essence was defined well or badly, at least these steps enabled the speech to say something clear and consistent.30 Division, on the other hand, involves The ability to cut such ideas up again into forms at their natural joints, and to refrain from mangling any part as a bad butcher might. The recent speeches both captured foolish thinking under a single common form, and just as the double parts of a single body naturally share the same name but are called either "left" or "right," so too the speeches considered human folly as one natural kind: the one speech cut off the lefthand part for itself, kept cutting it, and did not stop until, having discovered a kind of so-called "sinister love" among the parts, it quite rightly disparaged it; and the other speech, after leading us through the right-handed parts of madness and discovering a kind of love that while sharing a common name with the other was by contrast divine, held it up and praised it as a cause of the greatest human goods.31 The two operations complement each other and form one method for discovering and understanding universal terms. Collection moves from specific to general, subsuming many things under one idea to facilitate teaching by producing clarity and consistency through definition. Neither passage explains precisely the nature of the relation between collection and definition: they may be equivalent or coextensive, or collection may be preliminary to definition.32
30
EL; filav xe LSeav cruvopoovTa ayeiv xa. Tiok'ka.yj] Siscmocpjiiva, iva exaoTov 6pc^6(i.evo<; SrjXov TCOLYJ 7iepl ou <xv del ScBdcrxeLv e&eXev akmep xa VUVSY] rcepi sparrow, 6 eaTiv opia&ev S I T ' eu elxs xaxak; ekiy§~f\, TO yoov cracpe<; x a l TO OOITO OCUTW 6[xoXoyou[j.evov, 8t.ot TauToc zoypj eiirelv 6 Xoyoc; (265d3-8). 31 To TcaAcv XOCT' SCSY) Suvaa^ou ScaTSfAveiv XOCT' otpQ-pafj rcecpuxev, xal [i.7] lnt*ye.ipeZv xaxayvuvoa p.epo<; p]8ev, xccxou (xayelpou xpoicw xp ev 7][i.Zv 7tecpux6<; elo"o; Y)yY)aap.£vu TOO Xoyco, 6 (ilv TO ETC' dpicruepd TSJXVOJJLSvo? [izpoq, rcaXiv TOUTO Tsfivcov oux euavTJxev Ttplv ev OOJTOU; ecpeupcov 6vo[i.oc^6[i.evov axoaov Tiva. epooTa eXoiSopTjaev, fxdX' ev SIXT), 6 8' sic, xk ev Se^ia TTJ<; LAOCVIOCC; dyaycov Y)u,d<;, 6(XWVUJAOV (j.ev exelvco, 9-eTov 8' au TLva eptoTa ecpeupcov xal TtpoT£(.vd(j.evo<;, eirf]veaev oo<; u-eylcrccov CXI'TIOV Y)[x1"v dya&cov (265el-266bl). 32 277b5-8 (quoted below) says division follows definition, and mentions no intermediate procedure, so it is natural to associate definition with collection, but see Moravcsik, "Method," 167; HGP 4:428; Rowe, 200.
132 Socrates invokes jxiav ISeav in the first passages, but admits that the palinode's definition of love may not have been absolutely correct.33 This is a reminder that the palinode was a mythic approximation of the truth, a didactic move required by Phaedrus's status as a layman, and suggests further that the advanced demonstrative methods of philosophy may be adapted to the solution of practical and dialectical questions, thus partly accommodating the middle speech's pragmatic emphasis on definition for the sake of persuasion.34 Division moves back from.general to specific, separating the ideas (iSeoa) produced by collection into kindred but distinct forms (ELSYJ) according to natural differences. The relation between these EIBY] and the Sc.eaTcapp.eva gathered by collection is not specified, but the emphasis on natural joints and warning against sloppy butchery suggest they differ, and that division is not just an unpacking of the ideas assembled during collection, but the discovery of stable yet previously obscure features of reality with a higher level of generality than the original scattered things. But are these eihr] and iSeac. the transcendent, separable causal paradigms of the Phaedo and Republic, or are they something humbler, like concepts, classes, or species?35 Are Siearcapfxeva sensible particulars, or low-level Forms?36 And how
33
This may help explain the discrepancy between the palinode's overt definition of love as a form of divine madness and its deeper portrayal of it as recollection. 34 On [XLav £&eav, cf. W. Lutoslawski, The Origin and Growth of Plato's Logic (London, 1897), .492, and E. Des Places, Lexique de Platon (Paris: Les Belles Lettres: 1964), 261, on Euthyphro 6el, Laws 12.965c2; for the middle speech, see 237b8-d3: the phrase TO <XUTO OCUTCO dfjioAoyoujxevov here echoes the ou 8io(i.oAoyouvT<xi (c3-4), ouxe yap kcatxoiq ouxe <XXAY]XOIC; 6(i.oXoyouat.v (c5-6), and 6p.oXoyia 9-e^evot, opov (c9-dl) there; so taken, definition may serve the lower goal of persuasion with no pretension of discovering or teaching truth. 35 One approach, which leads naturally to reflection on the theory of Forms or Ideas, is to study the terms el8o<; and iSeoc, as A.E. Taylor, Varia Socratica (Oxford: James Parker & Co., 1911), 178-267; Paul Natorp, Plato's Theory of Ideas, tr. V. Politis and J. Connolly (Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 2004), 53; Ross, Theory, 12-
133 should one construe the diaeretic method—as ontology, logic, science—or as something
16; and others do. Socrates' reference to Forms in the palinode (see ch. 4) may, prima facie, justify finding them here too, but that speech's vivid imagery and repeated superlatives yield here to a dry proceduralism that suggests caution. Scholarship on the theory of Forms is vast and heterogeneous. Lutoslawski, 25-26, cites three main interpretations of the theory current in nineteenth-century scholarship: Forms are "independent substances," "God's thoughts," or "notions of the human mind." These positions can be traced to (a) Aristotle {Metaphysics A.6, M.4, etc.; see Cherniss, Criticism, ix-xx, 206-11); (b) Patristic neo-Platonism (refs. in A.N.M. Rich, "The Platonic Ideas as the Thoughts of God," Mnemosyne 1 [1954]: 123-33); and (c) Kant, whose enigmatic "milder interpretation" {Critique of Pure Reason, B370 n.), inspired Marburg conceptualism, a view once considered orthodox (J.D. Mabbott, "Aristotle and the XflPISMOS of Plato," Classical Quarterly 20 [1926]: 72). Lutoslawski's preference for (c), and his developmental hypothesis—immanent forms in a Socratic period, transcendent forms in a middle period, conceptual forms in a critical period, and divine ideas in a late period—have never lacked critics. Paul Shorey, The Unity of Plato's Thought (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1903), 27-40, considers Plato a realist, but is more outspoken in criticizing developmentalism than conceptualism. Cornford rejects conceptualism (PTK, 2; The Republic of Plato [London: Oxford University Press, 1941], 180), and combines Aristotle with unitarianism to hold that Plato always maintained the classic theory of Forms. Ross accepts developmentalism (1-10), but like Cornford, rejects the Begriff of the neo-Kantians (14— 16, emphatically seconded by Des Places, 159), and prefers instead the "class" of analytic set theory. Cushman, 115-21, 172-75, in a spirited critique of Stenzel, similarly rejects conceptualism, but from an Augustinian, largely unitarian perspective. Philip, 338 n. 6, calls it "obvious that the method of diairesis is concerned with classes and classification," denies it has anything to do with the theory of Ideas, and at 345 n. 11, criticizes "Cornfordian Forms" and praises Stenzel and Kant for their treatment of concepts. G.E.L. Owen, "The Place of the Timaeus in Plato's Dialogues," The Classical Quarterly N.S. 3 (1953): 79-95, and H. Cherniss, "The Relation of the Timaeus to Plato's Later Dialogues," The American Journal of Philology 78 (1957): 225-66, debated whether Plato abandoned or drastically modified his theory of Forms in late, critical dialogues; see also R.E. Allen, "Introduction," in Studies in Plato's Metaphysics (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1965), ix-xii, and G. Fine, On Ideas: Aristotle's Criticism of Plato's Theory of Forms (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), 36-38, 260 n. 44. For recent trends, see J. Howland, "Re-Reading Plato: The Problem of Platonic Chronology," Phoenix 45 (1991): 189-214; Press, 507-32; and W.A. Welton, "Introduction," in Plato's Forms (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2002), 1-29. Lloyd Gerson, "The Concept in Platonism," in Traditions of Platonism, ed. J. Cleary (Aldershot: Ashgate, 1999), 65-80, and Christoph Helmig, "What Is the Systematic Place of Abstraction and Concept Formation in Plato's Philosophy? Ancient and Modern Readings of Phaedrus 249b-c," in Platonic Ideas and Concept Formation in Ancient and Medieval Thought, ed. Van Riel, Mace, and Van Campe (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2004), 83-97, herald the return of the concept. 36
Lutoslawski, 340: "The ideas appear as a result of the study of particulars"; Cornford, PTK 267, says both eL'§7) and $ie
134 else?37 Such questions fall beyond the scope of the present work, yet it is instructive to see that the Phaedrus raises them. Surely Socrates wants to do more than just promote linguistic uniformity and establish conventional definitions, since that is the purpose he ironically assigns to definition in the middle speech, and the logic of the dialogue, as well as his own express words, clearly reject that view as inadequate..Plato evidently wants to convey the notion that diaeresis can discover objective features of reality. Socrates first uses the method to give his deceptive middle speech persuasive force, next uses it in the palinode to teach Phaedrus the truth about erotics and purify his moral opinions, then finally in the discussion explicates it as a doctrine to clarify the relation between his two speeches, help Phaedrus see why the palinode was so effective, and argue that philosophy is a better preparation for oratorical practice and a better system for educating posterity than sophistic. The discussion provides philosophic underpinnings for the palinode by (a) explaining the persuasive and didactic power of division and collection (both as an organizing principle and as a method for discovering the intrinsically persuasive truth about a subject) to help justify the claim that philosophy is a better system of education than sophistic, and (b) giving a
37
Lutoslawski, 340-41, calls the method a "double way from particular things to the general idea, and from the
idea to all its particular kinds," and sees here "a transition from metaphysics to logic"; Cornford, PTK 265—66:
the "technique of Collection and Division operates on [the] structure of the real world of Forms," and "Dialectic is not Formal Logic, b u t . . . Ontology"; Ross, Theory, 80-82, finds in the new dialectic an attempt to move from the "universals recognized in ordinary language" to an understanding of "the genuine [i.e., natural] species [or specific Forms] into which [a genus or generic Form] falls." J.B. Skemp, Plato's Statesman (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1952), 73 n. 1, follows Cornford. Moravcsik, "Method," 166-67, 179, cf. "Anatomy," 326-27, discusses particulars, but thinks "Plato's interest is metaphysical"; Ryle, 141, thinks division is merely preliminary to dialectic proper, a view criticized by John Ackrill, "In Defense of Platonic Division," in Ryle: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. Wood and Pitcher (Garden City: Anchor Books, 1970), 373-92.
135 literal, demythologized38 account of how the soul may come to know Ideas or immaterial universal concepts by the systematic application of a rational procedure. The palinode already hinted at such underpinnings in its immortality-of-soul proof and soul-as-charioteer myth, which not only helped explain the stakes involved in moral dilemmas like the one about erotic choice, but also provided essential context for the doctrine of recollection, which was the key to Socrates' redefinition of eros as an essentially intellectual phenomenon incomparably superior to the vulgar debauch Lysias disingenuously accused it of being. The palinode was a good example of the sort of true philosophic rhetoric one might profitably aim at a sympathetic lay audience, but Phaedrus, Socrates has decided, is now ready for a more advanced lesson, which should go much further in curing his case of moral corruption. Two passages summarizing the requirements of philosophic rhetoric clarify the diaeretic method and reinforce its importance. A skilled speaker, says Socrates, must be able to "divide his subject matter into forms and comprehend each as a unity under one idea,"39 and he must, "be able to define every subject on which he speaks or writes in itself, and after defining it, understand how to cut it again into forms until it can be cut no further,"40 for this is what it means to know the truth. Despite different wording, both formulae express the notion that knowledge of reality demands a specific dual cognitive process. The first mentions division before collection, but the proper order, based on the second summary and 38 39
Despite 229c-e, which must be read as irony.
Kerr' el8f] TS ^loapeZaQoa tra ovxa xal [ixa LSea Suvarot; YJ xa9-' Iv sxaenrov Ttept.Xa(j.(3ave(.v (273el-2). To re ctkt]$kc; exacrcwv eiSfj nipt wv Xeyei r\ ypacpei, xax' auxo re 7tav opiC,za$ai §uvaxog yevYj-coa, 6pta6i[i.ev6c; xz TtaXiv XOCT' ELST) \iiyj?i TOO atpfj-uou refAveiv eTacruTjO-fj (277b5-8). 40
136 the initial description of division, puts collection before division. Both passages enjoin a double movement: combination (ri£pt.Xa[j.f3av£(.v, opt^ea&oa) that unifies (xa&' ev, xax' auTo), and separation (St-oapeZaS-oa, TEfxvet-v) that sorts by type (XOCT' SIST]). 'iSea and zZ<$oq have distinct identities here, for plural el§7] result from division of the singular iSeou arrived at through collection, so it is tempting to read them as meaning "genus" and "species."41 The second summary does not use the term iSea, but replaces the phrase piia i8ea . . . xa&' ev . . . irepi,Aa(ji(3av£(.v with the word 6pCC,so&0Li, so collection serves the Socratic goal of definition, likely the original inspiration for Plato's theory of Ideas.42 Comparing these summaries with the initial descriptions is instructive. The zlc, jxcocv T£ iSeocv auvopwvxa ayet-v in the initial description of collection is equivalent to the \ILQL iSeqc . . . x a d ' ev . . . TrepiXafj.f3avEiv of the first summary; both expressions capture the innate power of human reason to combine rot noXkajji Siecrrcap^eva, things that are scattered about, into wholes, that is, individuals into a genus that will later be divided into species. This is the essence of the act of definition, TO opi^ea&ou, literally the drawing of a boundary around a group of particulars to divide them off by themselves from the rest of reality as one thing. Definitions are useful in mastering a subject, organizing speeches, and transmitting knowledge, and so are crucial for a truly philosophic rhetoric. Definition by the composition
41
Since this is supposed to be a method for moving from appearances to underlying truth, it is hard to agree with Cornford, PTK 267, that -roc Sieairapfjiva are Forms rather than sensible particulars. 42 Euthyphro 6d, 9c-d; R. Robinson, Plato's Earlier Dialectic, 2d ed. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1953), 49-60; HGP 3:425^2, 4:430; L. Robin, Platon (Paris: Librairie Felix Mean, 1938), 87; Aristotle Metaphysics 1.6.2, 987bl-7; 13.4.5, 1078b27-34; 13.9.22, 1086b3-8; Cherniss, Criticism, 187 sq.
137 of genera from scattered particulars is not yet Aristotelian definition by genus and differentia, but it is well on the way.43 ndcAiv xax' elS-/] . . . Sia-cs^vet-v in the initial description of division is equivalent to rcaXiv xaf' ELSY] . . . TE^VEIV in the second summary and xax' EIST] .. . (koapela&oa in the first: division, dissection, and cutting are synonymous expressions for the acquired capacity of human reason to distinguish according to form, class, or species. The use of TtaXcv in two of these descriptions implies that division is a counterpart to collection that moves in the opposite direction, that the one procedure is not really complete unless followed by the other, and that the proper sequence is to perform collection before division. The initial descriptions emphasize the natural status of genera and species, most obviously in that dividing XGCT ' ap&pa 7] Trecpuxev is likened to dissecting an animal, but more subtly (and profoundly given the dialogue's recurrent use of the horticultural metaphor) in the word for the raw data to be collected, Sceartapfxeva, which suggests a previous sowing or dispersal, as a farmer or wind might do with seeds. If such universals and their articulations are natural, they exist prior to and independent of any cognitive act, so division aims to discover real objective structures, not just unpack the results of collection. This precise methodological explanation probably seems rather dry to Phaedrus, whose taste inclines to rhetoric, but Socrates' willingness to impart it to him is an indication 43
Ross, Theory, 12, 118-19, cf. 239-45, finds the Aristotelian conception already in the Sophist; HGP 4.430 n. 1, sees no reason to bar such a reading in the Phaedrus; W.A. De Pater, S.C.J., Les Topiques d 'Aristote et la dialectique platonicienne (Fribourg: Editions St. Paul, 1965), 47, citing Friedrich Solmsen, Die Entwicklung der aristotelischen Logik und Rhetorik (Berlin: Weidmann, 1929), 189-90, holds a similar view.
138 that he thinks he is now ready for it, since he has already responded favorably to the palinode, which was not only structured around a division of forms of madness, but also contained mythic anticipations of some of the doctrines Socrates is trying to spell out to Phaedrus here literally. The ascent of the chariot-souls for example, and their struggle to peer beyond the rim of heaven into the realm of pure being, tries to capture vividly the labors of a soul struggling to discover truth. In the myth, intellect or the noetic soul "sees" the Ideas,44 recalling the analogy used in the Republic45 to try to convey the notion that reality is fundamentally knowable because there is a natural kinship or commensurability between the human mind or rational soul and the world of objects it seeks to understand. The point of collection is to seek broader genera, and thus reveal similarities between things that may appear disparate or unrelated but are in fact akin somehow. This explains what Socrates was doing in the palinode when he showed Phaedrus that one can grant Lysias his main premise, that love is a kind of madness, yet still deny his conclusion by showing that madness is not necessarily bad, because such widely accepted institutions as prophecy, ritual, and poetry all presuppose the goodness of at least some kinds of irrationality. The point of division is to clarify complex notions so that they may be more readily understood, as Socrates for example divided good madness from bad madness in his speeches, and divided each one into specific familiar examples to justify calling them divine inspiration and 44
OuCTia OVTWI; oOaa . . . fj.6vw 9-eaTY) va> (247c7-8); xa&opa (JLGV [r] 4IUX'10] aurrjv (kxoaoauvrp (247d6-7). The Sun allegory (Republic 6.507a -509c) teaches that the intellective soul apprehends intelligible objects much as the eyes apprehend the visible realm. Yet vision remains a metaphor, as is clear once the prisoner of Republic 7 leaves the cave for the world above and "sees" shadows, things, and finally the sun itself. 45
139 human disease respectively. As Socrates puts it: We said that love is a kind of madness, didn't we? [Yes.] And that there are two forms of madness, the one arising from human diseases, the other by divine dispensation from conventional norms. [Indeed!] And we divided the divine kind into four parts corresponding to four gods, assigning prophetic inspiration to Apollo, ritual to Dionysus, then poetic to the Muses, and the fourth, erotic madness, we assigned to Aphrodite and Eros, and said it was the best. And, by fashioning an image of the erotic experience—I don't know, maybe we hit on the truth, but perhaps we got a bit carried away too—and cooking up a not entirely unpersuasive speech, we gently and reverently sang a playful mythic hymn to my master and yours Phaedrus, to Eros, the guardian of noble youths.46 By helping him distinguish human illness from divine inspiration, diaeresis let Socrates defend love without rejecting the endoxon that it is a kind of madness. Establishing a clear distinction between two morally contrary forms of madness enabled him to differentiate exploitative carnal desire from philosophic friendship without denying the fact that the term "love" is sometimes used to describe both. He began by gathering preclassified species of action (gluttony, prophecy, etc.) to form genera (illness, inspiration), then characterized love as an additional species under each genus to entitle it to share by turns in the opprobrium and approbation conventionally accruing to the other members of those respective genera. This strategy let Socrates conclude in the middle speech that choosing a lover would be bad, and
46
M a v l a v y d p -ct-va IcpTjaafjiev elvoa xov sparccr Vj y a p ; [Nod.] Maviac; Se y s SCSY] SUO, TY]V y.kv imo voCT7](a.a.Tcov dv&pGMTLVtov, T7]v §£ uuo &£ia<; e^aXXayrj;; TWV eLco-9-oTwv vo(iifj.«v yiyvo(j.svv]v. [Ildvu ye.] Tr\q §E QZIGLQ TETTapaw 9-saiv TSTxapa (J.epv] S(,eX6p.evoi., [i.avTixr]v fj,ev eninvoLay ATCOXXWVOC; OEVTSI;, Aiovuaou Se TEXECTTIXYJV, MOUCTWV 8' a3 TCOLTQTLXYJV, "rs"cdpTY)v &E 'AcppoSiTTqc; x a i "Epwuo?, epwTLxr)v [xaviav £cpY)(7a[X£V TE dpiaT7]v s l v a i - x a l oux 018' OTO] TO Ip&mxov TUXQOQ dTtsixd^ovTS?, LCTW<; [lev 0Lkr\d-ouq TTVCK; Z$<XTCI:6\LSVOL, ta.yjx 8' dv x a l dXXoae raxpacpep6(i,evo(., XEpdaaVTec ou TxavTairaffLV dui&avov Xoyov, jj.u9-t.x6v xt.va u(j.vov TcpoasTcaiaajxEv, y.sxpiu>Q xe x a l eocpYjfjKoc;, TOV £fi.6v TS x a l crov SecmoTYjv "Epwxa, to OalSpE, xaXwv uaiScov Etpopov (265a6-c3). Socrates refines this summary to point out even more directly how his speeches illustrate the method of division and collection in 265e-266b.
140 in the palinode that it would be good. His ability to perform this complete reversal, to, in his words, "pass from blame to praise"47 depends, in addition to the power of diaeresis, on a certain inherent ambiguity of the term "love,"48 a point he explains when first hinting at the idea that division can be a valuable aid in the service of rhetoric. Socrates explains that the subject of any speech must fall into one or the other of two fundamental classes. Some subjects, iron and silver for example, have widely agreed or univocal names, but others, such as justice and goodness, have disputed or equivocal names.49 Rhetoric has its greatest power, he says, when applied to topics in the second class, which also happen to be the ones where people are easiest to deceive.50 So, Anyone planning to pursue the art of speaking should first methodically divide the things people are usually confused about from those they aren't, and should understand how to identify each sort. Then, when a topic he plans to address comes up, he should ascertain precisely, not ignore, which group it belongs to.51 47
'Arco TOU tyeyeiv Tzpoc, TO srcouvslv . . . ^ETajSyjvoa (265c5-6), picking up Phaedrus's &>q (SXapY) TE ecm . . . xcd au9-(.^ w<; fiiyiaTov Ttov dya&tov Tuyvjivsc. (263c9-12); Phaedrus is clearly absorbing his lesson here. 48 Socrates' two speeches address distinct phenomena that share little more than the name "love," so the middle speech remains deceptive until the palinode puts it into context. The Lysian caricature of love describes "bad love" or lust, a distinction whose omission is deceitful. 49 At 263a-b the expressions 6(j.ovoY)Ti.xto<; EY_ofj.ev, TO OCUTO TtdvTec; 8ievoif)&7](j.ev, and aufj.cpcovoup.EV refer to agreed topics;CTTacn.toTi.xtO!;[e^ofjiev], djj.cp<.cr(3Y]Toijfj.ev aXXvjXot.^, and ou [cruji.cptovoijp.ev] describe disputed ones. Phaedrus calls the second group [TOUTOU?] ev olc; nXavcopsQ-a; Socrates echoes this (TtXavaaQm, b9), then settles on the term <xu.cpia(37]TY]ai[i.tov (c7-8, echoed in turn by Phaedrus at c9) to express the point he wants to make, thus shifting his emphasis from describing a fact, the lack of consensus among crowds, to suggesting that censure may be due some speakers for their intentional exploitation of vague or equivocal terms; cf. Gorgias 451d9, Symposium 175e3, Sophist 231e4, and for the legal context of dispute, Euthyphro 8a-e. On the significance of this passage's stance on ambiguity, see Levinson, 273, and Ackrill, 387-88. 50 EucataTY)"u6Tepo(. refers to the discussion of deception at 261c-262c; cf. ei;aTtaT7]o-av-cs at 243a2. 51 Ouxouv TOV fiiXXovToc T£Y_VY)V p7]Top(,XT)v [xexievoa TtpwTov [J.EV Set TocuTa 6§to o'i'flpTJa'&oa, xal eiXYjcpevau Tivd Yjxpaxryjpa sxaTspou TOU ELSOUC;, EV to TE dvdyxT] TO TTXYJ&OI; TtXavaa&aL xoa EV to \xr\. . . . "ETCEIt a ye, oiu.oa, rcpoc; exdo"Ttp yiyvofj-evov \iA\ Xav&dvsiv, dXX' 6^£u>q adaS-dvecT&Ga nepi o5 av JJ-EXXT) spelv TCOTspou 6v Tuy^dvet, TOU yevouc; (263b6-c5). EZo"o<; and yevoc; are effectively synonymous here, and lack the more refined sense of 265d-e and 273el-2 noted above.
141
Since love is clearly one such disputed topic, it is a natural choice for a rhetoric lesson. Socrates' use here of a form of the verb St-oapeoo to indicate the drawing of a conceptual distinction between two similar but nonidentical kinds of thing is significant, for it precedes the formal introduction of diaeresis by several pages, yet anticipates the term's technical sense, and so contributes to the full meaning of the doctrine.52 Diaeresis is clearly a method of definition53 that, as the above analysis has shown, aims in its native philosophic setting to ascertain truth by formulating definitions that uncover the nature or essence of their subjects. Yet it is also capable of the humbler rhetorical task of devising nominal definitions to establish agreement on the meanings of words.54 This passage recalls the middle speech's warning about the consequences of not defining a topic of inquiry: the parties agree neither with themselves nor with each other,55 a failure exacerbated by vagueness but rooted in stupidity.5 This helps clarify the didactic implications of the diaeresis doctrine, a remedy for stupidity that is particularly effective in fighting moral corruption. Conventional rhetorical speeches, 52
AiTjprja&ai., translated here as "divide" to show the close link between this and later passages expressly illustrating the diaeresis doctrine, might just as well be rendered as "distinguish," were the link not so important. The diaeretic method is an early expression of the idea that a key role of philosophy is the drawing of distinctions, on which see R. Sokolowski, "Making Distinctions," Review of Metaphysics 32 (1979): 639-76. With oSco here, cf. 270c4, dlO, and consider in particular the relation with fiextevat, five words earlier, illustrating, confirming, and perhaps expanding Skemp's observation {Plato's Statesman, 121 n. 3). 53 Most obvious in the definitions of the Sophist and Statesman foreshadowed by 238b-c, but cf. n. 34. 54 A clear implication of the udpepyov argument (273e-274a) that helps resolve the apparent contradiction between the middle speech and the discussion on the question of definition. The middle speech contains glimmers of the truth that are apt to be misunderstood because they are incomplete. 55 With OUTE yap iamoZc, OUTS oiKk7]koiQ 6(j.oXoyoucji.v (237c5-6), cf. <xfxcpt-a(37]Tou[i.ev dXXr|Xoi.<; TS xal 7)[juv auToi? (263all), where d[j.cpi.a(37)TeTv means ou 6[i.oXoyeZv (above, n. 40); cf. Gorgias 457c-d. 56 Tou<; &e TTOXXOUC; XsXvjQ-ev OTO OUX lo<xai TTJV oucriav exdaToir ax, Se SI§6TS<; . . . (237c2—3) reads like a definition of stupidity, which is explained elsewhere as ignorance of truth compounded by a presumption of knowledge (see below, 173-74); note the use of oucriav here.
142 the written models of the sophists especially, embody no such method. Socrates concludes his main exposition of the diaeretic method with praise: I myself am a lover of these divisions and collections, Phaedrus, since they enable me to speak and think; and whenever I believe someone else has an innate ability to see unity in multiplicity, I chase after him in his tracks as if he were a god. And moreover, though goodness only knows whether I'm giving them the right name, heretofore I've always called those able to do this dialecticians.57 Here, in concluding his presentation of the doctrine of division and collection, Socrates establishes a link between the palinode's doctrine of educational eros and a cluster of related pedagogic themes that appear later in the discussion,58 and stresses the key roles of truth, diaeresis, and the theory of Forms in philosophic education by invoking the formulaic polar opposition "one and many."59 To practice diaeresis, one must have an innate ability to see both the underlying unity of what is manifold, and also the plurality of what is singular. This means, depending on context, to detect a species in its members, a concept in its instances, or
57
TOUTWV Srj eywye <xox6<; xe epacrc7)<;, w OalSpe, raw Si-oapeaecov xai auvaycoywv, iva. oloq xe w Xeyeiv xe xal ucn.<;, MsXerv), 'ETCI.(TTY][JLY)," Transactions
and Proceedings
of the American
Philological
Association
4 0 (1909): 185—201; on
the importance of innate qualities, cf. Republic 6.485a-487a, Laws 4.709e-710c. 59 An academic commonplace that clearly links diaeresis with the theory of Forms: "The 'problem' [of the one and the many] was always in Plato's mind" (Paul Shorey, tr., Plato: The Republic [Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1930], 2:164 n.; "The antithesis of sv and rcoAXa was the/ons et origo of Greek philosophy" (James Adam, ed., The Republic of Plato, 2d ed. [Cambridge: The University Press, 1969], 2:110 n. 16, cf. 135 n. 23, 149 n. 19, 168-79, 1:342 n. 2); Parmenides 127d-130a, F.M. Cornford, Plato and Parmenides (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1939), 66-81; see also Sophist 251a-c; Philebus 13e-15c; PTK 252-55; R. Hack' forth, Plato's Examination of Pleasure: The Philebus (Cambridge: The University Press, 1945), 17-20.
143 a Form in its participants, and the converse. So, for example, it means being able to move back and forth between the idea "virtue" and specific virtues like courage and wisdom without losing sight of their hierarchical interrelatedness, and probably also the ability to cognize a notion like "restraint" upon seeing Socrates decline sexual favors or Morychus skip a feast. Socrates' claim to have always called those capable of division and collection dialecticians suggests that diaeresis refines or builds upon the conversational style of philosophy favored by the "early" Platonic Socrates.60 The "new" dialectic of the Phaedrus invokes that earlier sense, but is clearly more sophisticated. To ask xi iaxi is implicitly to demand a definition,61 but purposefully collecting scattered things into groups and then dividing the groups into discrete natural kinds is more rigorous and systematic. It is natural to think that Plato would have wanted to surmount the stumbling blocks of linguistic convention and popular opinion
60
The earlier dialectic is a critical conversational method that proceeds by question and answer, excludes long speeches, requires interlocutors to say only what they really believe, and often asks "What is X?" questions; it involves elenchus (examination or refutation), but not in the bad, eristic sense (Gorgias 471d-e), for true dialectic requires mutual goodwill and a sincere desire to find the truth (Meno 75c-d, Gorgias 457e-458b; Republic 7.537d-539d, cf. 5.454a, 6.499a); see Robinson, Dialectic, 7-19, 49-92; H. Benson, "Problems with Socratic Method," in Does Socrates Have a Method? Rethinking the Elenchus in Plato's Dialogues and Beyond, ed. Gary Allen Scott (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2002), 101-13. 61 E.g., Lysis 222b, 223b, Protagoras 361c, Laches 190d, Charmides 159a, Meno 71a-d, 77a-b; cf. Aristotle Metaphysics 1.987b 1-5, 13.1078M8-33, 1086b3-8; note the key role of ziq, "a certain [sc. kind of]" in the definitions of love (237d4) and rhetoric (261a9), and cf. Meno 73e, where Socrates' stress on ZLQ indicates an awareness of conceptual hierarchy; the Gorgias reveals a similar awareness as Socrates drags a definition of rhetoric out of Gorgias: xiq \y\ Topytou xiyyt\\ (448e6-7); [r\ p7]TopLXY]] Tispi TL TWV OVTWV ECTTLV inLOX7][Tf]; (449dl-2, 9); rioioui; [A6you<;]; (el); TL ECJTL TOUTO TWV OVTWV, nzpi ou OUTOL ol AoyoL SLCTLV, olc, r) pY)Topix7] ^pYJTca; (451d5-6); TL SCTTL TOUTO O cpf]<;CTUjisyLcrTov aya&ov slvaa TOU; avQ-pwiroLi; xal as 87](XLOUpyov slvaa auTOU (252d3-4); uolac; 8r\ nei&ouc, xal TYJ<; -rcspl TLTCEL&OUC;r\ pr\xopLxr\ SCTTL xeyyr\; (454a8-9); IloTepav oOv Y] pTjTopLXY) TteL&co TTOLSL ev §LxaaTY)pLOLq TS xal TOI<; aXkoic, 6y~Koic; ruepl TWV SLxalwv TS xal aSlxwv; (454e5-7); the full definition of rhetoric that finally comes at 454e9-455a2 is a summary of all the answers Gorgias gives to this harrowing series of questions; as such it is a summary of divisions, much like the definitions in the Sophist and Statesman.
144 that hindered the realization of his master's goals, and thus to develop a rigorous logical method to carry on the Socratic quest for knowledge. This chapter-section has argued that Socrates offers division and collection (diaeresis) as a way to find out the truth about subjects proposed for discussion, and accordingly, that it is one of three main arguments he presents in the final third of the Phaedrus to establish that philosophy beats sophistic as a means for educating orators and fulfilling the general mission of higher education, and is an effective cure for moral corruption, which sophistic tends to cause or exacerbate instead. The discussion, despite its obvious stylistic shift, means to carry forward the same cure for Phaedrus's moral corruption that Socrates began in the middle speech and intensified in the palinode. The dialogue thus comprises a series of steps that lead Phaedrus by degrees toward philosophy and a cure for his moral corruption. Socrates hinted already in the palinode that a lesson on the value of diaeresis was due: For a human being to understand, he must reckon things up by kind, using reason to pass from many perceptions to a comprehensive unity, and this is recollection of the things our souls saw when traveling with god, looking down on the things we now call real, and ascending to true being.62 It is clear here that the abstractive function of reason in discovering generic ideas is a demythologizing explanation of recollection, and that the soul, as the seat of human reason, is responsible for all cognitive and moral activity both in and out of the myth. The soul is critical for Socrates' argument, essential in any theory of education, and key a fortiori in the educa62
AeZ y a p avQ-pcoTCov auvcevai XOCT' EI&O<; Xeyojxevov, s x TCOXXWV tov oda&Y](Te(ov clq sv XoyicT^w ^uvcapoufJLevov TOUTO §' earov dva.[i.v7)ax^ exeivtov a 7TOT' si&ev Y]p.cov if) <\>ujr\, ^u^TCopeu^elaa $ew x a l UTcept-Soucra a vuv elvod cpaf^ev x a l dcvaxu^acra elq xo ov OVTCO<; (249b8-c4). See ch. 4.
145 tion of an orator. The soul is the focus of Socrates' second major argument in the discussion, and thus of the second main section of this chapter.
Psychiatry, Psychology, and Method Socrates turns to explain the second main way that sophistic rhetoric causes moral corruption in the central third of the discussion: she omits any serious attempt to understand the human souls that populate audiences while indiscriminately applying pat handbook formulae, a clumsy, cookie-cutter approach that undermines effectiveness and makes persuasion harder to achieve. A worthless curriculum cheats students, corrupts their judgment, and makes them vulnerable to false moral opinions, so sophistic education is dangerous. Socrates debunks sophistic rhetoric's techne pretense once and for all by comparing her to some real crafts and showing that she falls short of their standards. Phaedrus, reflecting on his own experience, begins to see that denial of a speaker's need for real knowledge beyond certain perfunctory routines is a repudiation of techne, and that the sophistic craft claim was bogus all along. Socrates illustrates here the didactic superiority of philosophic rhetoric, for instead of insulating his presentation from reality a la Lysias, he tests the limits of his student's preexisting knowledge, designs his lessons to appeal to what he finds, and administers them in a patient, direct manner. The first craft he cites is medicine. Socrates: So tell me, if someone were to approach your friend Eryximachus, or his father Acumenus, and say, "I know how to treat bodies so as to induce or, if I wish, reduce a fever, and if I choose, can make them vomit, defecate, and numerous other things of the sort; and because I know these things, I consider myself a doctor and
I
146 able to make others doctors by sharing my knowledge with them," what do you think he would say upon hearing this? Phaedrus: What else could he say really than to ask whether in addition he knew whom he should treat, when to do it, and how much? S.: And what if he said "Not at all, but I expect the one who has learned these things from me to be able to do what you ask on his own"? P.: They'd say, I think, that the man is crazy if he understands nothing of the art yet thinks that reading a few books or finding some drugs will make him a doctor.63 By translating rhetoric's claims into the language of medicine, Socrates establishes a powerful analogy that transcends the immediate context. He cites Eryximachus and Acumenus as medical experts, for Phaedrus already knows them well in this capacity.64 The hypothetical someone masquerading as a physician represents a typical rhetoric teacher like Lysias or Gorgias, and the crude drugs he offers are the rhetorical devices of the sophistic curriculum. To claim that such treatments are knowledge, or that they qualify one as an expert and teacher, is as much a sham coming from a rhetor as it would be coming from a doctor. Phaedrus understands immediately and suggests three criteria real doctors would cite as evidence of genuine skill beyond mere routines for causing physiological change: knowing how to diagnose illness, determine suitable treatment, and prescribe appropriate amounts. Encouraged, Socrates recasts the Gorgian objection into medical terms, and Phaedrus has no diffi63
2 . E l u s 8T] [lot- el xiq, TipocreX&cov xS> £Tadpw aou 'Epu^L[i.ajb> 7] x$> naxpi auxou 'Axou^ievw, elnot oxi«'EY<*> six(.CTTa[i.at -coiauir' OLXXOL acofi.aax ixpoacpepet.v &axe S-ep^aLvetv T ' eav (SouXojfxat. x a l <\){>JSL\) x a l sav [lev So^T] [j.o(. £(j.ecv rcoieZv, sav 8' au, xaxco Sia^wpeiv- x a l aXXa TrafXTCoXXa T o i a u r a . K a l eniaxa.[i.evoq a u r a ai^co ltx.xpiy.6q s l v a i x a l aXXov Tcot-slv w av TY)V TOUTCOV £Tticrc?]fi.7}v TtapaSco,» TL av olei axouaavrac; SLTXSIV; 0 . T l 8' aXXo ye Y\ speaOm el upoaeTrlcrcaTai x a l oucrrt.va<; Set, x a l OTCOTS s x a a r a TOUTWV TZOL-
EIV, x a l \xk%pi onocrou; 2 . E l oOv elnoi oxi- «0v8ay.S>q. AXX' a^iat TOV Tauxa n a p ' £[i,ou (j.a&6vTa auxov olov T ' elvai.TCOCEZVa epwxa^"; $ . Elizoiev av, oTfrni, OTI (xalverat. avQ-pwuoi; x a l £x (3i.(3Xlou TTO&EV axoucrai; r\ nepixvjiov
See 227a5 and cf. Symposium 176d6-8; Rosen, Symposium, claims Phaedrus is a "passive homosexual" (54), and "Eryximachus' beloved" (34, 57, cf. 8 n.18).
147 culty seeing that any such self-styled expert would be a phony.65 This medical analogy is important for Socrates' immediate case against sophistic, but he is also, in a masterstroke of logographic economy, making a deeper point about philosophy, and about the overall meaning and structure of the dialogue. He brings medicine in as an example of a real craft to show by contrast that sophistic rhetoric's techne claim is bogus, yet there is more to it. Medicine is singularly relevant because true philosophic rhetoric is literally psychiatric, a therapeutic craft that works to rectify and prevent cognitive, emotional, and desiderative imbalances within the human psyche, or in short, a kind of medicine for healing souls. This model is a key premise of the dialogue's overall plan to offer a case study in the philosophic cure of moral corruption. Socrates not only uses medicinal philosophic rhetoric in the palinode to change Phaedrus's opinion about erotics, but he turns around afterwards and explains to Phaedrus in the discussion what medicinal philosophic rhetoric is and why it works. Since the discussion continues the process of educating Phaedrus, it shares the remedial function of the rest of the overall case study, and so, despite its apparent stylistic departure from the formal monologic orations that precede it, it is arguably no less an example of medicinal philosophic rhetoric, provided these terms are understood broadly. The middle speech demonstrated the skillful application of diaeresis as an organizing principle, but did not make full use of the method to determine the truth, so, in exploring the persuasive limits of stylistic perfection, it showed philosophic rhetoric's deceitful potential. 65
On the need for breadth of knowledge and philosophic method in medicine, cf. Laws 4.720a-e, 9.857c-d.
148 Yet it served a valid didactic function as a steppingstone and did not try to manipulate or exploit Phaedrus, and so subtly evinced the benign motive of true philosophy. The palinode took diaeresis to a higher level by using it not just as an organizing principle, but as a heuristic device for discovering the truth about erotic choice. Even a speaker who wants to deceive (as Socrates pretended in the middle speech) needs to know the truth about the subject of his speech so he can use homoiosis to lead his audience away from that truth. So on top of everything else it does, the palinode illustrates the knowledge about erotics that underlay the middle speech and made it so effective. Phaedrus's needs and preparation justified the palinode's extensive use of myth, just as they justified the middle speech's provisional use of deceit, but the palinode took pains to first lay the groundwork for its myth with a formal proof of the immortality of the soul, an independent, non-diaeretic verifier of the truth of its position. Like the palinode, the discussion presents truth, but it does so directly, without the mediation of myth or deceit. It does more than simply criticize or explicate the speeches, for it also draws on their substance, especially the themes of knowing the soul, caring about its education, and practicing philosophy, which were fully apparent in the palinode, and hinted at already in the middle speech. The discussion is no less an example of philosophic rhetoric for being dialogic, for Socrates' new definition of rhetoric as an art of leading souls with words
neatly accommodates dialectic. Socrates applies remedies of varying strength in successive stages of the dialogue: mild introductory remedies in the middle speech, stronger intermediate remedies in the pali-
149 node, and advanced remedies in the discussion. In the middle speech, Socrates had to take Phaedrus's corrupt state as given, so he upheld Lysias's thesis and florid, "dithyrambic" tone, but introduced a few elements that began to hint at a better way. The palinode made a radical break with Lysias's corrupt morality, and while still maintaining a recognizably rhetorical, structured monologic form, used an "epic" barrage, of mythically cloaked philosophic doctrines to drive home its true, overwhelmingly persuasive message about the nature of love. By exchanging monologue for dialogue and setting aside the erotic question to focus on philosophic cures for sophistic moral corruption, the discussion seems to make a decisive break with the speeches, but the "techne logos," with its residual hints at the oration format, suggests that Socrates is still practicing medicinal philosophic rhetoric. The introductory scene, reading of the Eroticus, and first interlude up to the start of the middle spech make up a diagnostic phase, while the rest of the dialogue presents a treatment phase and chronicles the application of three successive kinds of cure: (1) a philosophically optimized parody of deceitful doxic-sophistic rhetoric to alert Phaedrus of his problem and prepare him for a cure, (2) an elaborate mythic solution to the erotic question based on a formal philosophic proof establishing the immortality of the human soul to cure Phaedrus's wrong opinion, a symptom of his moral corruption, and (3) a direct literal discussion to teach
Phaedrus about the underlying causes of both his disease and its cure to protect him from relapse and recruit him to help others in the fight against moral corruption. Socrates' two speeches, for all their virtues, are extempore imitations of written speeches, but the discus-
150 sion is a direct oral interaction between the two men, a gymnastic, activating stimulus that imparts the right kind of motion to Phaedrus's soul. Phaedrus listens to popular doctors, who rightly prescribe him exercise as a path to physical health, but when it comes to psychic health, he takes bad dietary advice from sophists, and instead of nourishing his soul with truth, ingests eviscerating pharmacetuticals while gorging himself at the trough of public opinion. He mistakenly believed that practicing his delivery on Socrates would be gymnastic, but trying to memorize a sloppy text like the Eroticus is no true exercise, but a form of psychic indolence, the passive, thoughtless ingestion of a noxious written poison. He should be seeking a vigorous workout for his soul in the salutary intellectual palaestra of dialectic, not lolling about idly in gardens of letters. Throughout the dialogue, Socrates exhibits the three kinds of contextual knowledge mentioned in the last quoted passage, confirming that his own ministrations are meant to exemplify the psychiatric model. He knows whom to treat, for he discovers in the initial scene that Phaedrus is in trouble and really needs help.66 He knows when to do it, for Phaedrus's responses over the course of the dialogue indicate his level of preparation at each stage, and suggest the appropriate next step in his treatment.67 He knows how much to apply, for as in-
66
Phaedrus's admission at 227a-b that he was with Lysias is already enough to worry Socrates, who persuades him to elaborate (b9-10, aajoXioic; u-rcepTspov Ttpay^ot TCoir\Gsa&a.i; 227d2-3, s7nTeSu(j.7)xa dxouaoa). A good physician needs to interview his patient carefully to properly diagnose illness. He claims to understand Phaedrus's soul at 228a, and is vindicated at 228e as Phaedrus produces the scroll, confirming Socrates' hypothesis about the morning's events. 67 Of the many examples, consider 234e-235d. Socrates corrects Phaedrus's uncritical praise for the Eroticus by pointing out that it is repetitive and leaves much to be said on the subject. Phaedrus strongly disagrees. Socrates
151 dicated by Phaedrus's responses, he provides gentle remedies at first, followed by stronger medicine, and then finally a dialectical presentation.68 The initial diagnosis is not complete until the interlude after the Eroticus, at which juncture Socrates applies the first, rather gentle remedy (the middle speech), and then, once he is sure that Phaedrus is receptive, he begins a stronger treatment (the palinode), which forcibly expels the false opinion about eros. Then, in the discussion, he applies an even stronger cure that is no longer rhetoric in the familiar sense of a set monologic presentation, but direct philosophic dialectic, a therapeutic gymnastic paideia that is rhetorical in the broad sense of leading a soul with words. Phaedrus is ready for it, and definitely benefits. There may be other, more advanced forms of dialectic for which he is not yet ready, but given his status and skills, he is making good progress. To support further his claim that sophistic rhetoric is no craft, Socrates draws a second example from the field of literature, to the effect that learning a few dramatic devices for affecting an audience's emotions does not make one a tragedian. This is the same point the first example made, but it moves closer to rhetoric by citing a related literary form. Socrates' efforts are evidently paying off, for Phaedrus is able to complete the example for him by applying the organic unity principle that Socrates presented four pages earlier. The original formulation of the principle said that
realizes he will need to proceed slowly, and so shifts to citing some authorities, which piques Phaedrus's curiosity. Soon the tables turn and Phaedrus is begging, even threatening Socrates to speak. 68 If the two speeches are pharmaceutical, the discussion is non-pharmaceutical, that is, it uses no artifice and is gymnastic, providing a better kind of motion for the soul. So the pharmaceutical dimension of philosophic rhetoric will yield to pure philosophy once the corruption is cured.
152 Every logos should be constructed like an animal: it should have a body of its own that lacks neither head nor feet, and should have a trunk and limbs that are fitting to each other and written with a view to the whole.69 Along with the use of a definition, this was one of two formal speechwriting principles Socrates said distinguished his speeches from the Eroticus. Phaedrus recalls it pretty well: I think [Sophocles and Euripides] would really laugh, Socrates, at anyone who thought that a tragedy was anything else than the combination of these [elements] so that they fit together well and contribute to the unity of the whole.70 Phaedrus changes a few of the words, and does not repeat the animal metaphor, but clearly has absorbed the main point of the lesson, and is able moreover to apply it in a new context, which attests significantly to his potential as a student. His grasp and retention of this key lesson shows that philosophic education is effective, especially since, by contrast, he has at best a passive familiarity with the principles of sophistic rhetoric, and only a general recall of the details of the Eroticus, despite his having spent considerable time with Lysias and other sophists.71 The fault it seems lies not in the student, but in his teachers' curriculum. Socrates begins a third example drawn from the craft of harmony, but since Phaedrus has already gotten the point, he passes quickly to the conclusion that a good teacher does not
Aeiv
TCOCVTOC
Aoyov cocTcep C,wov auvecrcavac, acopx xi sjovxa auxov
GCUTOU
ware
JJLYJTE axecpaAov
eivca
p.7]xe COTOUV, aXXoc [xscra TS e^siv x a l a x p a , rcpercovTa aXX7]Xoi<5 x a l ™ 6Xco yeypap.fji.sva (264c2—6). 70
Kal ouTot. av, w 2wxpaT£<;, otfioa, xaxayeXwev el xiq oEeTaa TpaywSt-av aXXo TL eLvau Tj TYJV TOUTWV auc7Taa!.v, upeTtouaav aXki]koic, xs xotl TU 6XWCTUvt.aTa[i.ev7)v(268d3—5). 71 Phaedrus has surprisingly little to contribute to Socrates' inventory of the principles of sophistic rhetoric at 266d-267e; he briefly summarizes the Eroticus at 227c, but denies memorizing it (aTCOfj.vY](i.ovsuet.v a^tax;. .. Sew) at 227d-e; Socrates divines Phaedrus's extensive study and accuses him of memorizing (k£,zniax<x\i£voq) the speech but playing coy at 228a-c; Phaedrus again denies memorization (T<X ys pijiuxxa. oux s^e^aQ-ov) but tacitly admits extensive study and offers a paraphrase at 228d; tacitly accepting the denial, Socrates rejects the paraphrase and instead demands a verbatim reading of the scroll Phaedrus has concealed under his cloak.
153 scold students harshly, but tells them gently that knowing the rudiments of a craft is not the same as knowing the craft itself.72 Socrates thus ingeniously presents the kernel of his lesson as a quotation: craft requires deep knowledge. To drive the lesson home, he describes Pericles73 as a gentle expert and teacher, and cites him as the source of the lesson he wants Phaedrus to retain, that the sophistic rhetoric teachers have mastered neither dialectic nor truth, so they cannot define rhetoric, do not know what it is, and cannot teach it. What they do teach is fundamentally flawed, for they emphasize tricks without explaining how to combine them into complete, persuasive speeches. Phaedrus concedes that sophistic rhetoric is flawed, but still wants to know how and whence he can acquire a true art of speaking and persuasion.74 Socrates cites the commonplace that talent, knowledge, and practice are all required to become good at anything, and adds that Lysian-style tricks are not the answer. When Phaedrus meekly inquires where he can find the knowledge he is seeking, Socrates refers to Pericles as likely the most polished speaker ever due to his contact with Anaxagoras, a natural philosopher whose lofty speculations about mind and folly offered a sound basis for rhetorical skill. Phaedrus does not quite understand, for despite his cultured tastes, he is new to philosophy, and has little idea who Anaxagoras was. Socrates must find another w a y to make his point, so he returns to medicine
72
Ta yap rcpo ap(j.ovta<; avayxala [i.a97)fjLaTa emaTacai., aXX' ou TO. apjj.ovt.xa (268e5-7). While explaining therapeutic psychagogic rhetoric, Socrates is also practicing it by using Phaedrus's desires and values as lures to philosophy. Thus, he cites Pericles, the sort of renowned public figure Phaedrus idolizes and dreams of becoming, as an example. 74 269c-d. 73
154 and articulates a latent dimension of the analogy he used a page earlier. Medicine is a craft in about the same way rhetoric is. In either case, if you want to use skill rather than just a clumsy routine, you must divide a nature, the body on the one hand and the soul on the other, for only thus will you produce health and strength in the one by applying drugs and nutrition, or transmit the convictions and virtues you want to the other by applying arguments and customary practices.75 Craft for Socrates is the criterion that distinguishes, good from bad practice in rhetoric and medicine both, for it promises a system for dependably achieving specific aims, whereas a routine is haphazard and less likely to yield desirable results.76 To become a craft, rhetoric must adopt the diaeretic method, not only since, as discussed in the last section, it needs to discover the truth about the subject matter of its speeches by formulating definitions,77 but also, as Socrates now argues, because the method is vital for achieving the required understanding of the human soul.78 Rhetoric and medicine aim to improve the condition of the natural entity in their care by applying a range of treatments. Physicians treat bodies, orators 75 c
O OCUTOC; TT;OU xponoQ x£yy~r\q larpLxYjc; ocrrcep xal p7]Topt,x7J<;. .. . 'Ev a(j.<poTepai<; Sel SieXsa&at, cpoaiv, au>[i<xxQQ (j.ev ev XYJ e-cepa, 4IUX^? ^ ^v T7] exepa, si y.£Xkei<; fjnr) Tpi(3v) p.6vov xal sprst-pia, aXXa x£yyr\, TW [Jiev cpapfxaxa xal xpocpYjv -rcpoacpepwv, uyt.ei.av xal p
155 treat souls, and as the former aim to produce health and strength, so the latter aim to produce virtue and true opinions. The physician is able to prescribe the right drugs and diet because he has learned anatomy (the body's natural divisions), studied the active and passive capacities of its parts, and collected the parts to learn how they interact and function as a system. The knowledge this brings is the key to his skill, and distinguishes him from the quacks. Anyone can offer drugs or dietary advice, but without understanding the body and the likely effects of treatment, he is no physician. The skilled orator must understand the soul, for it is the nature he is to treat. As the physician aims to improve the body, to make it healthy and strong by prescribing drugs and diet, a good speaker aims to improve the soul by applying speeches and lawful practices to implant it with proper opinions and virtues. This requires knowledge of virtue and vice, the psychic equivalents of health and disease; of specific moral ideas like justice and nobility, the elements of psychic health; and of how to compose and deliver persuasive speeches on these topics, the treatments that will foster virtue. This passage's aim, to establish the indispensability of knowledge of the soul, is one Socrates afterwards considers met, as each of his subsequent lists of rules for rhetoric includes a stipulation about knowing the soul.79 But what does this mean exactly? Why is the soul so important? Socrates anticipated (and met) the need for such information in his palinode. According to the proof he offered there, all soul is immortal, and is the cause of motion for everything else. Without the sus79
270e, 271a-b, d, 273e, 277b-c; absent other argument for this point, it rests squarely on the analogy.
156 taining kinetic agency of soul, the very cosmos would grind to a halt, so soul may be understood as animpersonal cosmological principle, yet it also has particularized manifestations. Objects that cannot move themselves are soulless, but any body whose motion comes from within has a share of soul, or a soul of its own. Socrates describes what unembodied individual human souls look like (their eiftoq, i.e., form or structure) in the charioteer myth. The soul is tripartite, and includes rational, emotional, and appetitive elements, represented by the charioteer and the right- and left-hand horses respectively. The best souls are divine, and all three of their parts are good, whereas other souls are mixed, the presence of a bad, dark horse (irrational appetite) being the main difference. The fractious weight of the dark horse and the inability or unwillingness of some charioteers to control him causes less fortunate souls to fall away from the divine path that has the best view of truth. As long as a soul sees at least some truth in each circuit of the heavens, it keeps its wings and is safe, but if it goes a whole round without seeing any truth, it loses its wings, plummets to earth, and gets lodged in a body. According to how much truth they were able to glimpse in earlier cycles, embodied souls live earthly lives whose quality is characterized by occupation and/or socio-economic status. Such embodied souls, the artisans, managers, and politicians of everyday experience, all have their own concerns and capacities, and as each group is prone to see specific questions from its own distinct perspective, so it will respond differently to the various rhetorical strategies that are used against it. Thus, a detailed understanding of the soul, its structure, history, and deepest motivations, is an essential part of any serious rhetorical curriculum.
157 Phaedrus agrees that the medical analogy is apt, so Socrates asks whether he thinks it is possible to understand the soul's nature well enough to give an account of it without first understanding the nature of the whole.80 The exact meaning of "whole" here is unclear, but the reference a few lines earlier to Anaxagoras suggests it means nature in general or the cosmos.81 Phaedrus replies that Hippocrates the Asclepiad used the same method to learn about the body.82 Socrates praises Hippocrates,83 equates his method with the true account,84 and indicates that what he is about to say draws on or coincides with it. What follows is a careful exposition of the diaeretic method's application to the study of the soul.85 Whoever
80X
FU}(YJC; ouv cpuaiv a£iw<; Xoyou xatavoTJaai. oixi Suvaxov elvat aveu TT)<; TOU 6XOU cpuaewc;; (270cl-2); the a£iw<; Xoyou stipulation is important, for being able to give an account is a sign of knowledge (Gorgias 465a, 500e-501a, Symposium 202a, Meno 98a, Theaetetus 201c sq., Timaeus 51d-e). 81 Ancient testimony on TOU OXOU is mixed. Galen In Hippocratis de natura hominis 2-5 interprets 270cl-d8 as a lesson on how to study nature in the pre-Socratic sense of a search for primary substance, suggesting he takes TOU oXou to mean "cosmos"; Hermeias's paraphrase, TYJV OXTJV ^upjv (245.6), implies that the relevant whole is the complete individual human soul. Both readings are defensible (Lysis 214b5, Gorgias 508a3, Philebus 28d6, Laws 903b6 vs. Charmides 156c5, Symposium 205b5, Phaedrus 264c5, 268d5, 269c3). A largely anglophone critical tradition (G.M.A. Grube, Plato's Thought [London: Metheuen, 1935], 213 n. 1; Edelstein, "Review," 226; Hackforth, 150; Gil Fernandez, LV-LVI nn. 8, 10; De Vries, 234; Rowe, 205; but not HGP 4:431 n. 4) prefers the Hermeian reading, but the French (RMV CLXXIV-CLXXV, 75 n. 4; Bernard Seve, Phedre de Platon [Paris: Editions Pedagogie Moderne, 1980], 137-8; Brisson, 228 n. 396) and Germans (Ritter, 95; Jaeger, 3:192, cf. 23; Friedlander, 3:513-14 n. 29; Heitsch, 169) generally side with Galen. Some argue that the reference is intentionally vague and intended to capture both these senses, others that it means the entire man, body and soul combined (Charmides 156e, Jacques Cazeaux, tr., Plato: Phedre [Paris: Librairie Generate Francais, 1997], 193 n. 1), or the environment (Mary Gill, "Plato's Phaedrus and the Method of Hippocrates," The Modern Schoolman 80 [2003]: 300-5). The related Hippocratic question lies beyond the scope of the present study, but for a review of older work, see A. Dies, Autour de Platon (Paris, 1927; repr. New York: Arno Press, 1976), 30-45, and Robert Joly, "La question hippocratique et le temoignage du Phedre," Revue des Etudes Grecques 74 (1961): 72-79; for recent opinions, see Jouanna, 58-71; Schiefsky, 67-71. 82 Phaedrus does not say what method he means, but it is probably cl-2, less likely to be al or b4, and surely not 269d9 or an anticipation of 270dl0. Socrates wants him to see the unity of these methods in ideal rhetoric. 83 KocXwc; yap, co EToclpe, Xeyei, "and well he speaks, my friend," is the same reply Socrates gave when Phaedrus reported the medical theories of Acumenus in the eighth line of the dialogue. 84 'O aXr]9-r)? X6yo? (270c9). 85 270c8-271a2; The [ii&oSot; of 270dl0 directly answers that of 269d9, right down to the rcopeusTou/Tcopsia walking metaphor, but is probably not what Phaedrus understands by method at 270c4. Socrates does not ex-
158 would be a good physician must understand the body, and so too anyone hoping to become a skilled speaker must understand the soul. This lesson's importance may be gauged by the fact that Socrates repeats it three times to ensure Phaedrus's retention, adding more rhetoricspecific detail with each subsequent pass. Socrates' first sketch of the Hippocratic method applies to any nature at all. One should consider first whether the nature one wants to be an expert on and able to make others experts on is simple or complex; if it is simple, one should next investigate its native active and passive powers, or, if it is complex, count its forms and determine the individual powers of each one as in the case of the simple natures. This method, which Socrates calls division, lies at the very core of his notion of techne: whoever would teach skillful speaking will explain the essence of the soul precisely (as he has in fact already done in the palinode), for it is the nature speeches must treat in order to effect persuasion.86 Phaedrus agrees, so Socrates offers a second sketch of the Hippocratic method and begins to apply it to the specific needs of rhetoric. Anyone serious about teaching rhetorical skill will write and lecture about the soul with full precision: first whether it is naturally uniform or, like the body, complex, for this is what it means to explain a nature, and second,
pressly mention division here, but did at b4, and here cites the process of counting up a complex nature's forms (rauTa a,pi&\i.t]oa.\Levo
159 what the soul naturally acts on and is affected by. Third, after classifying the types of speeches and soul, he will describe the temperament and motives of each type of soul, pairing speeches with souls and teaching which kinds of souls are inevitably persuaded by which kinds of speeches for what reason, and which are not. There will never be any other way to speak or write skillfully, in school or for a real audience, on this or any other topic. Yet the teachers Phaedrus has studied with are rascals who hide their knowledge of the soul and unscrupulously teach something else, so Socrates urges him not to believe they write skillfully until their lectures and models incorporate this knowledge.87 Phaedrus still wants specific instructions on how to speak and write, so Socrates offers his third, most detailed sketch of the Hippocratic method's application in philosophic rhetoric. Since speech has the capacity to lead the soul, the would-be orator will need to know how many kinds of soul there are, their number and properties, and how they manifest themselves in different character types. Once he has divided the soul this way, he should likewise determine the number and properties of the various forms of speech. Certain kinds of people are easily persuaded to do certain things by certain kinds of speech for a particular reason, while others, ceteris paribus, are hard to persuade. After deep reflection on these matters, next he should watch for them in his own and others' practice so he can reinforce his lessons by observation, otherwise he will never be more than a student. Once he grasps in theory what kind of man is persuaded by which kinds of speech, and in addition can figure it 87
271a4—c6; the first sketch's three steps are combined here into two; step three here is a new addition.
160 out in real life well enough to spell out for himself in specific cases that the particular man and nature now actually present before him exemplify the sort to whom his teachers said he should apply such and such speeches in such and such manner to instill such and such convictions, then, once he has also learned timing, brevity, pitifulness, vilification, and the various other specialized forms of speech, but only then, will he have achieved a fine and complete art. So be skeptical, Socrates warns, of anyone who omits any of these elements from his speaking, teaching, or writing yet still claims to speak skillfully.88 The recommended procedure aims to maximize persuasive force by engineering an optimum fit between each speech and its intended audience. The speaker must distinguish elemental classes of souls and speeches and note their characteristic strengths and weaknesses, so that on each occasion he will be able to invent, arrange, and deliver arguments tailored precisely to the predilections of his target audience. Sophistic rhetoric, by contrast, offers a single recipe for clever writing that is supposed to charm all audiences alike. This hamfisted, procrustean approach ignores the key role of audience reception in balancing the rhetorical equation, and fails because it cannot even explain the success of a past master like Pericles, much less expand the horizons of the discipline. The teachers know better, but offer an inferior system anyway, either because it is easier to produce and market, or because they hope to safeguard their trade secrets and limit competition. Either way, they cheat Phaedrus and others like him, and encourage irresponsible practices detrimental to all. 88
271c7-272b2; Gorgias 501al-3 reads like a pilot for the whole section 270bl-272b4.
161 The Hippocratic procedure Socrates recommends, cataloging and coordinating speech- and soul-types, is governed strictly by the medical analogy, a design punctuated at key turns by repetition of the term -rcpoacpepa), to treat, apply, or administer.89 The physician (orator) must be able to diagnose the condition of his patient before prescribing a remedy, so he must understand pathology, but since pathology is a deviation from the healthy state he aims to restore, he must first understand the normal functioning of the body (soul) as a system, and the proper condition and interaction of its parts. All this is impossible without broad scientific knowledge, for body and soul alike are natural entities, and as such enjoy a fundamental kinship with the rest of nature, so a good grounding in biology and physics ("meteorology") is required for understanding physiology and psychology alike.90 The medical analogy is Socrates' main device for refuting sophistic rhetoric's technical pretensions and retooling it to be philosophic by basing it on the diaeretic study of truth and the soul.91 Yet this vision of a psychiatric philosophic rhetoric is more than just a refutation strategy or a doctrine to be learned, it is a subtle reminder to careful readers that this is precisely the method Socrates is using to persuade Phaedrus to seek better teachers and pursue worthier goals than clever writing. In the palinode, Socrates used diaeresis to analyze the
89
At 268al0, 270b7, e4, and 272a2. Republic 7.528e-530d, Timaeus 90b-d, and Laws 12.966e-968a recommend such studies. 91 Plato's dialogues often appeal to medicine as a paradigm of craft and model for philosophy. See R. Joly, "Platan et la medecine," Bulletin de VAssociation Guillaume Bade 20 (1961), 435-51; J.W. Lidz, "Medicine as Metaphor in Plato," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 20 (1995), 527-41; M. Vegetti, La medicina in Platone (Venice: II Cardo Editore, 1995); J. Lombard, Platon et la medecine: le corps affaibli et I'dme attristee (Paris: L'Harmattan, 1999); Antoine Thivel, "Platon et la medecine," in La medecine grecque antique, ed. J. Jouanna and J. Leclant (Paris: Diffusion de Boccard, 2004), 95-108. 90
162 soul, explaining its three parts (appetite, spirit, reason) and their interactions, and enumerating nine types (farmer, merchant, philosopher, etc.) of composite souls.92 He shows in the discussion that he has made a corresponding study of the various kinds (parts and devices) of speech,93 and that he is prepared to coordinate type with type, just as he is recommending here, so he has clearly performed the two main analyses called for by the Hippocratic method as he describes it vis-a-vis rhetoric.94 Further, his use of myth and poetry in the palinode, and his appeal in the discussion to ideas and authorities he knows Phaedrus understands and respects, show his attunement to the soul of his audience, and his willingness and ability to adjust his speech to fit its needs. He is very definitely practicing the doctrine he is teaching. This becomes even clearer in the next section as Socrates presents an unambiguously didactic interpretation of philosophic rhetoric to complement his psychiatric model. Phaedrus agrees that Socrates has described the only way rhetoric can become a true craft, but notes the program's difficulty. Socrates sympathizes, and plays devil's advocate again to give sophistic rhetoric one last chance to defend herself, personifying her under the name of Tisias, the source of the agnostic position Phaedrus cited in denying persuasive speaking's need for knowledge of truth.95 Tisias has nothing new to offer, only the threadbare deceptive tactics of the eikos argument, so Socrates dismisses the craft objection for good,
92
An alternate twelvefold classification of soul-types resides in the notion that each soul models its character upon that of the god it followed before it fell into an earthly body (252d). 93 266d-267d. 94 See in particular the three steps enumerated at 271a-b. Some details could be more fully elaborated, but Socrates addresses all the chief requirements of the method in his presentation. 95 The interlude is at 272b—274b; for Tisian agnosticism see 260a.
163 and summarizes his requirements for a genuine philosophic rhetoric. Unless a man catalogues the natures in his prospective audience, and can divide his subject matter into species and comprehend each as a unity under one idea, he'll never achieve the full human measure of speechcraft.96 The core of Socrates' new rhetoric is diaeresis, both in its own right as applied to the subject matter of speeches, and also as psychology, an empirical application of the procedure to diagnosing the condition of the souls of audiences. His exposition of the Hippocratic method shows that a third application, the systematic classification of speech-types, is also vital, but he does not emphasize it.97 Sophistic rhetoric is poorly equipped for its own stated objectives, for it is not possible to achieve the perfection of a Pericles, native talent and practical experience notwithstanding, without a firm grasp of the principles of philosophic diaeresis and psychology. Yet there is an even higher standard. No one will ever acquire these abilities without a major investment, which a prudent man should undertake not just to speak and act among men, but to please the gods as best he can with his every word and deed. Wiser men than we, Tisias, say that a sensible man should practice pleasing not his fellow slaves, save perhaps as a byproduct, but his good and noble masters. So don't be surprised if the journey is long, for one must go out of his way to accomplish great things, though they aren't the ones you imagine. Nevertheless, as our argument shows, your aims too, should anyone desire them, will best be realized in pursuing ours.98 96
'Edv \xi] TIC, TWV xe axouaofiivcov xkc, cpuasit; &(.apc.i)|j.7]0"7]Tat., xal xax' SISY] XZ St.oapelcr&oa xa. OVTOC xal (jn.qc l§ea SuvaTO<; fj xa&' sv exaaxov Tcep(,Xa[Ji(3dvs(.v, ou TCOT' ecrcoa xzyyiv.bc, Xoycov ixipi xa9-' OCTOV Suvaxov dv&pwTico (273d9-e4). 97 Doing so would overlap one of the strengths of sophistic suggested by the catalogue of techniques at 266d267d; sophistic however apparently did not try to coordinate its devices with specific audience-types. 98 Totu-ua Se ou fi.7] noxz xrr]a7]Tai dveu TCOXX% Ttpayjiarslai;- rjv ouy evsxa TOU Xeyeiv xal np/xxxeiv npbc, cuv&pomovq Set Siarcoveoa&ou TOV crwcppova, dXXd TOU 9-eou; y,zyapia[).zvoL (iev Xeyet-v Suvaa&ai, Y.zya.piafjiivax; 8e v:p6ixxziv xb TC<XV ZIQ Suvauav. Ou yap ST) apa, w Tsioaa, cpaalv ol aocpw-repoi r\\mv, 6(j.oSouXoi.<; Set jcnp'iZ,za%a.i [i.eXzxS.v TOV vouv zypvxa., o xi [O] udpepyov, dXXd Secmoxaic; dya&oZ<; xe xal zE, dyaQ-wv. "Q.ax' el [xaxpd Y)rcsploSo;;,[rt] Ba.\j[ict.ay]Q- u-eydXwv yap evexa rcepuxeov, OU^M? au Soxet?. "EaTai p)v,
164
Phaedrus is right, Socrates confirms, acquiring philosophic rhetorical skills is a major undertaking; this testifies as to their extraordinary origins, and explains why they are so rare in the conventional milieu of public affairs. To squander such a craft on the mundane business of the courts and assembly would be foolish, a point Socrates amplifies by resorting to the traditional polarity between human and divine. Doxic persuasion suits a lower, human standard, above which there stands a radically superior kind of speech that aims at a far nobler end, the moral education of posterity. The philosophic curriculum is geared to meeting this higher standard, but would incidentally prepare someone to be a good deceiver, even though strictly speaking that would be a frivolous goal. In the palinode, divine reason is "nourished by intelligence and pure knowledge,"99 and the gods are the only souls with a full view of truth, yet their closest followers do get a glimpse.100 Pleasing the gods implies knowing the truth, whereas pleasing human beings would mean pandering to their whims and hiding the truth. Phaedrus heartily applauds this vision, but still wonders whether it is attainable. Socrates offers no guarantee, but instead moralizes that it is honorable to suffer what one must in pursuit of a worthy goal. Phaedrus concurs, and agrees that they have sufficiently covered the question of whether sophistic rhetoric is a craft, signaling a major break in the discussion. Yet the craft argument is not forgotten, for when Socrates promises to explain how Phaedrus
&>Q 6 X6yo<; cpvjCTiv, edv XIQ I&SAT], xocl xauxa xdAAiaxa IE, £X£t.v(ov yiyvoneva (273e4-274a5). 99 Nw TE xal kmazy][rr] dba]pdxo) xpecpofjivT) (247d2). 100 The souls that "want to receive what is fitting" (247d3), "best follow and imitate god" (248a2), and "become companions of god" (248c3-4) are closely identified with the philosophers (248d2-4, 249al-4, 249c4-7).
165 "will please the gods when teaching or practicing rhetoric," he consciously echoes the "pleasing to the gods" criterion he just offered as a sign of a higher rhetorical calling.101 Persuasive speaking in the courts and assembly is merely human, but the moral education of posterity, philosophic rhetoric's guiding aim, is divine.
Writing, Speech, and Education In the last few pages of the discussion, Socrates tackles Phaedrus's lingering obsession with writing, probably the single clearest symptom of his corruption by sophistic rhetoric.102 Socrates has already explained the inherent danger of devotion to opinion and technique instead of truth and psychology, but an additional factor, heavy reliance on the emulation of model written speeches, exacerbates the corruptive potential of sophistic, for it encourages thoughtlessness that leads to abdication of reason's duty to scrutinize and control appetite. Phaedrus has already responded to discursive Socratic therapy with clear signs of progress, but he still clings to illusions about writing that impede a full cure. In the part of the discussion analyzed in the first two sections of this chapter, Socrates taught Phaedrus that sophistic rhetoric will never be an art unless it becomes philosophic by embracing diaeresis, for only one who knows the truth will have a mastery of his subject that is adequate for outmaneuvering his opponents at antilogike, and psychology, for only one 101
(i.aXt.CTTa 9-ew yapisl Xoywv nipi Ttpa-UTcov YJ Xeywv (274bl0-ll). Excessive emphasis on writing is the third main cause of sophistic rhetorical corruption that Socrates criticizes in the discussion (see above, 122-23). Historically, a big fault of rhetorical education was its reliance on rote emulation of written models, which neither imparted skill nor cultivated judgment (Aristotle Sophistical Refutations 183b36-184a9; cf. Alcidamas On the Sophists). 102
"OTIT]
166 who understands his audience will be able to select and apply the right techniques. Socrates now takes up the issue of writing, and uses it to amplify his argument that philosophy is superior to sophistic rhetoric as a system of education. He needs to conclude the day's lesson on a decisive note to cure Phaedrus's corruption and convince him to seek better teachers and take a personal interest in improving the moral standards of public discourse and higher education. His strategy in the last section of the discussion is to give a general critique of writing using mythical and direct arguments, then to reveal the critique's specific purpose by contrasting the harmful sophistic use of writing as a substitute for teaching with the salutary philosophic approach, which stresses live dialectical interaction with mature experts and the relegation of writing to a subordinate role. At the end, he integrates this with the discussion's other lessons in a magisterial summary. Phaedrus was still confused after the palinode. He admires the popular orators, and dabbles in their art hoping someday to share in their celebrity. Unfortunately, the sophists he has studied with have taught him to understand rhetorical skill as a knack for clever writing.103 Socrates takes pains to correct this mistake by distinguishing writing from rhetoric, a strategy indicated at the beginning of the discussion, where in a brief elenchtic exchange, he
103
Phaedrus's attendance at Lysias's class, borrowing of the Eroticus scroll to practice, acquaintance with various rhetorical techniques, and concern with how to become an orator all suggest he is not just a rhetoric buff, but a student. His teachers have betrayed him by training him to focus on the aesthetic form of speeches instead of their moral and intellectual content, and to flatter clever speakers instead of criticizing their arguments. Like the texts he has been taught to imitate, he is unable to defend himself in elenchus.
167 shows that politicians esteem writing despite a professed scorn for sophistry.
Phaedrus
liked the palinode, but is worried because he recently heard some politicians maligning Lysias for being a writer, and fears shame may dissuade him from replying with a new speech. Socrates thinks he has misjudged Lysias and misunderstood the politicians, but Phaedrus persists: Even you must realize that the most powerful and dignified men in the cities are ashamed to write speeches and leave their written work behind them, fearing the opinion of posterity, lest they be called sophists.105 But, says Socrates, things are not always as they seem, for Phaedrus fails to consider "That the highest-minded politicians love speechwriting and leaving written works behind them most of all."106 Such men, he explains, are proud to write and enact laws, and posterity esteems them for it. Phaedrus agrees that legislation seems as much like speechwriting as anything done for the courts, and concludes that such people would be unlikely to chide Lysias for being a writer, for doing so would be a kind of self-reproach. The point is not that politicians are hypocrites or that Phaedrus mistook what he heard, but that speechwriting or, more accurately logography, is a complex phenomenon whose many varieties, good and bad, must be distinguished and treated separately. Anticipating his imminent lesson on diaeresis, Socrates cites law as an example, but has others in mind, for logos is a broad genus, and it is no 104
257c-258e, the "introduction" to the discussion; cf. Anytus' comments at Meno 91c. Kal auvoia&a TCOU xal ax>xbq oxt ol [izjiaxov Suvap.evol xz xal aey.v6-va.xot sv xalc, nokeaiv y.layjJvovx<xi Xoyouc; xz ypacpeiv xal xaxaXsLitstv auyypa[i.(i.a.Ta sauxwv, 86£av cpojSou^evoi TOU ZTZZIXO. Xpovou ip\ acKpt-crcal xaXwvTca (257d4-8); it seems odd that this has not affected Phaedrus's zeal for rhetoric. 106 01 (j-eyt-axov cppovouvxec; TWV uroXwixwv [LOLkiaxa. spakjt. Xoyoypaqstac; xz xal xaTaXe^ewc; auyypoc(j.[jiaTwv (257el-3). 105
168 virtue of oratory, but an accident of language that lets its name be used without qualification for one of its species.107 To judge Lysias fairly, a deeper inquiry is needed, so Socrates gets right to the point: "Writing speeches isn't intrinsically shameful—what's shameful is speaking and writing shamefully or badly instead of well."108 Condensed to a simple question this becomes, "So what are the characteristics of good and bad writing?"109 Socrates sees that Phaedrus's concern is not with writing per se, but with finding a route to power and fame, an interest he appeals to in mentioning Lycurgus, Solon, and Darius in their role as orators.110 Personal ambition has led Phaedrus, as it did many others, to the sophists, who promoted their courses as paths to success. Such claims had a certain superficial plausibility, for many great men also happened to be good speakers, but loose association is no proof of causation, and it is especially hard to see how emulating a model like the Eroticus could help anyone succeed. Writing is primarily a tool of rhetoric, and cannot rightly be judged apart from the conditions of
107
See Kerferd, Sophistic Movement, 83-84, and more generally, HGP 1:420-24; in the Phaedrus, consider the division of logos into oratory, poetry, and law at 278c under the names Lysias, Homer, and Solon, and the subdivision of oratory at 261b-e under the names Nestor, Odysseus, and Palamedes. The first two of these figures represent the lawcourts and assembly (b5-6, more likely than the sophists named in cl-3), and the third a "cunning," deceitful tradition within philosophy (on which see n. 18), whose existence proves that the courts and assembly do not exhaust the uses of rhetoric (the overt point), that there are experts on speaking who are not sophists (a deeper point), and that philosophy is qualified to criticize rhetoric (the ultimate point). Socrates attributes rhetoric manuals to Homeric heroes probably to insinuate that oratory is a tradition much older than sophistic. 108 Oux odaxpov auTO ye TO ypacpeiv Xoyouq. . . . aXX' exslvo . . . aLa^pov T]SY], TO y.r\ xaX
169 its use, so to break Phaedrus of his obsession with it, Socrates had first to lead him through the lessons on good and bad rhetoric described in the previous two sections of this chapter.11' The dialogue began with Phaedrus leaving town to practice reciting the Eroticus from a written scroll he had borrowed from Lysias after class, so a critique of the role of writing in rhetorical education is due, and gives Socrates an occasion to offer additional moral and didactic support for his proposed reforms. In the process, he withdraws his earlier argumenti gratia approval of deceit and presents his full case against sophistic rhetoric, which, because it promotes ignorance and error in several specific ways, is bad as a form of communication, worse as a system of education, and culpable as a conduit of moral corruption. Signaling a shift from the technical phase of his critique to a deeper level of moral inquiry,112 Socrates raises the question of writing: Decorum in writing, and its lack, is our remaining topic—how, when it is done, it may be done well, and in what way it is done badly.113
111
Like love, rhetoric is named equivocally, so it must be defined and have its forms distinguished before it can be accurately evaluated (261a-b, 271c-d); cf. Aristotle Sophistical Refutations 169a22-27. 112 EurcpeTceux and aTtpe7tw<; derive from the verb Ttpercco, whose connotations range from the purely aesthetic (to be conspicuous or look good [probably the original meaning]), to the strictly moral (to be fitting, suitable, or appropriate) (LSJ, s.v. FIpeTtco). In the Phaedrus, the root -npsiz- appears in a noun only in this passage, but five other times in verbs, two of which (264c5, 268d5) bear an aesthetic sense, the skillful assembly of parts of a speech; the other three (259b5, 278d4, 279b6) concern the moral question of the kind of knowledge, name, or act that befits a particular individual. Elsewhere, Plato favors an aesthetic sense for su-rcperieia (Euthydemus 305e, Phaedo 92c, Cratylus 402e), but uses it at least once to indicate moral propriety {Epistles 7.333d). By contrast, he occasionally uses dmpeTceia and aTipenStq aesthetically (Laws 10.892e, Epistles 7.344d), but prefers the moral sense (Republic 3.398e, 5.465b, Laws 7.788b, Menexenus 246e). Such philological evidence permits a moral reading, and gains strength from context: a major shift or natural joint occurs here, an expressly moral question was deferred earlier, and there is a palpable moral dimension to much of what follows. There is no apparent connection with the later notion of propriety of style (e.g., Aristotle Rhetoric 3.7, 1408al3-b23). 113 To 8' eunpsizeioLQ 8T) ypacp-yj^ nipi xal
170 When Phaedrus reported the politicians' abusive reproach of Lysias, speculated that love of honor might lead him to refrain from speechwriting to avoid further disgrace, and concluded that influential men are ashamed to write speeches because they fear for their reputations, he tacitly invoked the popular moral concepts of honor, shame, and reputation.114 This showed that Socrates' ministrations had helped him progress beyond the superficial zeal he exhibited at the beginning of the dialogue to an incipent awareness of the problematic moral status of sophistic rhetoric, yet Socrates wants him to advance further, to a deeper philosophic understanding. Already making use of division and collection, Socrates explained that speechwriting per se is not shameful, but that writing shamefully and badly instead of well is, and suggested trying to distinguish well done writing from its opposite. Later, he asked again about good speaking and writing, and whether those who want to speak "goodly and well" should know the truth.115 Sophistic teachers have trained Phaedrus, in error, to understand rhetoric aesthetically, as literary skill, but Socrates wants to show him that moral and epistemic criteria are far more relevant in distinguishing good speaking and writing from bad. Socrates draws attention to his conception of good, philosophic rhetoric by asking Phaedrus, "Do you know how you will best please god if you practice or teach rhetoric?"116 Half a page earlier, he had distinguished divine and human standards of speech, linked his
114
257c-d; Dover, Morality, 226-42; D.L. Cairns, Aidos: The Psychology and Ethics of Honour and Shame in Ancient Greek Literature (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993), 370-92. 115 258d7; 259e2; 259e5-7; the redundant su ye xal xaXu<; hints at the aesthetic-moral distinction, E5 covering the skill-based canons of the craft argument, xaXw<; the decorum-based critiques of the moral argument. 116 OIcr&' OUV OTIT) y-oikiaxoL 9-ew yapiel Xoywv nepi Txpaxxwv i] Xeycov; (274bl0-ll).
171 curriculum to the divine standard, and cited it to argue that a sensible, educated man would never squander his investment on "human" goals, which he termed slavish.117 Here, Socrates associates the divine standard, the education of posterity, with wisdom, but since true wisdom is possible only for a god, he emphasizes pleasing the gods, and calls his standard philosophy, a longing for wisdom that, while superior to human folly, falls short of wisdom itself. Philosophy is human participation in divine wisdom, not wisdom itself,118 or as Socrates puts it in the Symposium, philosophy is like Eros, a daemonic intermediary between man and god who is always striving for the divine.119 The gods are pleased by, and so reward, mortal souls who imitate them by leading a philosophic life pursuing truth.120 This passage strikes an ironic contrast with the corrupt hedonism of the Eroticus by using forms ofja-P^Q to echo Lysias's euphemism for sexual favors.121 The palinode explained that divine souls, the gods, are divine precisely because they are constantly pursuing, gazing, and feeding on truth. They are able to do this because both horses drawing their chariots are good, so they are unencumbered by the strong irrational appetites that lead less fortunate souls to pursue pleasure instead of truth. Human souls have a choice: if they strive to overcome the dark horse, they can see enough truth that, even if they do lose their wings for a time, their earthly lives will be better, as symbolized by higher socio-economic status,
117
273d-274b; cf. ox; ycupiaxiov \j.~r\ epwvxi at 227c7, etc.; cf. ckSdi^oa . . . TZZZOOLL at 277c5-6. 273e4-274a2;278d3-6. 119 Symposium 201d-204c. 120 258e-259d. 121 With xs^apt-apivoc . .. y.ejoipia[i.svi>>q (273e7), ^apu^ea&at. (273e9), and x01?^1 (274b 10), cf. e.g., 227c7, 233d5, 233e7, 234b8, 238e2, and 241b8. U8
172 than if they had not striven. For those already embodied, vigilant control of the appetites will bring better subsequent lives, reward rather than punishment between these lives, and, if a philosophic life is chosen thrice in succession, an early release from the cycle of rebirth. The consequences of choosing poorly are serious, so to encourage others, as the Eroticus did, to give the dark horse free rein and surrender to the rule of appetite, is to inflict grievous harm. To begin the process of curing Phaedrus's corrupt zeal for writing, Socrates presents a myth that claims to recount an ancient conversation between Theuth, an Egyptian demigod who supposedly invented writing and several other key arts, and Thamus, the king of Egypt at the time whose approval Theuth sought for promulgating his various inventions. Theuth presents writing as a potential aid to wisdom and memory, but Thamus criticizes him for lacking a critical eye for his own invention, and claims that writing will backfire and cause unintended harm to the memory and wisdom of those who use it.122 This is a key passage, for it explains another way that sophistic rhetoric causes moral corruption. Thamus the critic says to Theuth the inventor: You've found a recipe not for memory, but for reminding, and give your students the conceit of wisdom, not its reality. With your help, they get lots of information and fancy themselves sages, but most of them are just uneducated fools, and they make peevish companions too, for they've become wiseacres, not wise.123
122
274c-275b. Oiixouv fj.vr][X7)<;, aXXa UKO^VVJCTEOX; <pap^.axov 7)Gpe<;. EocpLca; 8e xoXq [UJL&iyzoLZq So^txv, oux aArj&eiav KopiC,eic;- -KOXUYJXOOL yi.p aoi ysvo^svoi aveu S i S a ^ i ; TroXuyvwji.ov£(; elvoa SO^OUCTLV, ayv
173 Socrates goes on to describe other defects of writing,124 but the core of his critical animus is that it encourages doxosophia, the vain conceit of wisdom, a vice whose sufferers stubbornly think they are wiser than they really are.125 He underscores the gravity of the point by expressing it in terms of the key dichotomy between aXvj&sZa and So^a, truth and opinion. Philosophic rhetoric is based squarely on the discovery and dissemination of truth, whereas sophistic rhetoric, from beginning to end, is devoted to Opinion: ascertaining it, appealing to it, and manipulating it. Just as opinion is a metaphysically weak imitation of truth and an epistemologically weak imitation of knowledge, so reminding is a weak cognitive imitation of recollection. Writing is an ideal tool for sophistry, for its slippery, insubstantial nature is perfectly suited to serve the manipulative sophistic agenda. Doxosophia affects writers who, instead of bothering to learn their subjects, polish a text, pride themselves as clever, and pretend to be experts when in fact they know comparatively little. And it affects audiences that, like sophomores who think they are suddenly wise because they have attended a few lectures, leave the assembly convinced they understand matters they have never taken the trouble to study. Such authors speaking before such audiences are like the blind leading the blind, but 124
Writing is mute and rigid (asfAvok; ixavu cTiya, 275d6; ev TL crr)(j.ai.vei. fj.6vov TGCUTOV aei, 275d9), audience-insensitive (oux iniaxaxan. Xeysiv oic, Sec ye xal JJLY), 275e3), and vulnerable (OUT' ajj.uva0&ai OUTE (3oY]9-9jaoa Suvaxcx; au-ccp, 275e5-6; a8uvaxo<; [Lev auxoq Xoyw (3o7)i>£lv, 276c8—9), whereas oral Xoyoi; empowers souls with active knowledge and can adapt to its audience and defend itself when challenged (276a5-7). 125 Philebus 48c-49e calls So!;oao
174 there are many cliffs along the way, and precious few guardrails. Uncorrected doxosophia insidiously reinforces itself as the infected soul, struggling to hide rather than heal its own ignorance, exchanges curiosity for vanity and lets its innate love of truth degenerate into morbid self-love. Writing is thus liable to cause cognitive and moral corruption when used irresponsibly, and is especially prone to abuse by careless or unscrupulous teachers. Socrates is particularly worried about the use of written texts in the teaching and practice of sophistic rhetoric because the corruption of an entire class of the best and brightest pupils, those with the talent and drive to become leaders, threatens the future of the city. Public speeches usually hinge on the interpretation and application of moral concepts like justice, goodness, and nobility.126 Such vital notions should be taught, carved indelibly in the souls of students through dialectic, not perverted to serve dubious causes. A speaker who thinks tropes and topics alone will make him good is stupid, and he infects his audience with this stupidity when he delivers a written speech that encourages them to think they understand subjects they have never taken the time to investigate carefully. This literary-effect stupidity compounds the corruptive potential of sophistic rhetoric. At first, Phaedrus dismisses the Theuth myth as fiction, but he yields when Socrates admonishes him to distinguish meaning from mode of presentation, and admits that the moral
of the story is essentially correct. Socrates argues that the myth is particularly relevant in the case of sophists who try to pass a corpus of written paradigms off to their students as an art 126
Cf. Aristotle Rhetoric 1.3.5-6, 1358b.
175 of speech, for the use of such a system reveals their ignorance of the truth conveyed in the myth. Like painting, writing seems to be alive or to have a meaning it wants to convey, but it cannot explain itself, adapt to its audience, or defend itself, and, as Thamus said, can do no more than remind those who already know. Sophistic rhetoric has committed itself to this medium, and is thus heir to its faults. Socrates turns to explain his contrasting ideal of philosophic education, a legitimate form of speech that is better and stronger than its "bastard" written brother because it is engraved in the soul of a man who understands; it has the power to defend itself, and knows before whom it should speak or remain silent. This, Phaedrus rightly discerns, is the living, ensouled speech of a knowledgeable man, of which written speech is really just an idol, a false god or spurious imitation.127 Pleased with Phaedrus's progress, Socrates again uses horticulture as a metaphor to drive home the pedagogic implications of his critique. Just as no serious farmer would use tricks to force his seeds to bear fruit prematurely, but would patiently exercise responsible husbandry to insure an abundant harvest in due season, so too a man who knows the precious truth about the just, noble, and good would never entrust this treasure solely to writing, but would use the art of dialectic to implant his wisdom directly in the soul of a suitable student, where it can flourish and bear perpetual fruit. This stands in marked contrast with the donkey analogy, which used the horticultural metaphor to impose moral
275b-276a; Phaedrus grasps a difficult point here, evidence of the effectiveness of philosophic education.
176 censure on the sophistic indifference to truth.128 Showing that he has grasped the point, Phaedrus agrees that it is much better to engage in this style of teaching than merely to compose and distribute written model speeches. What is not overtly stated here, but clear from the context, is that sophistic methods make writing even worse, because the live speakers the sophists imitate in their writing do not care about the truth. Socrates now begins to summarize the discussion's earlier lessons, taking first the results of the inquiry into skill. Good speechwriting requires knowledge of truth, which one achieves through diaeresis and definition of each speech's subject matter.129 It also requires a detailed understanding of the nature of the human soul that is attuned to the practical needs of rhetoric, which one achieves by using the Hippocratic method, a diaeretic enumeration of distinct varieties of souls and speeches that aims to discover and record dependable persuasive correspondences based on their respective passive and active capacities.130 One should note that this implies a need for division and collection of the various kinds of speeches according to their specific powers, which would at a minimum entail mastery of the preliminary devices Socrates describes in his review of sophistic rhetoric, but would also call for knowledge the Phaedrus does not detail, of deeper argumentative techniques, of how to organize complete speeches, and of how to combine all the elements in a variety of ways to
276b-277a; cf. 260c-d (see above, 114-15). 277b5-8, summarizing the results of 261a-266c, discussed above in the first section of this chapter. 277b8-c3, summarizing the results of 268a-274b, discussed above in the second section of this chapter.
177 achieve a variety of effects to suit the tastes of a variety of audiences.131 These rules would apply whether a speaker's goal on a particular occasion were to teach or just to manipulate, for the question of bare skill prescinds from that of morality.132 Continuing his summary, but turning now to the question of morality, Socrates compares the corruptive sophistic use of writing with its salutary philosophic use. What, in turn, about the writing and delivery of speeches being noble or base, and the way it must be done if it is to warrant the label "disgrace" or not? Weren't the things we said just now quite clear . . . that if Lysias or anyone else ever wrote or shall write, in private or, by writing a political composition while establishing laws, in public, in the belief that there is any great certainty or clarity in it, it is a disgrace to the writer, whether anyone says so or not. For indifference to right and wrong or good and bad cannot truly, under any circumstances, escape being disgraceful, not even if the whole crowd praises it.133 Socrates thinks writing is culpable when an author considers his text a stable, transparent proxy for his intentions. This picks up a thread of the analysis that followed the Theuth myth, where he explained that writing is inherently fluid and vague, no matter how skillfully executed, and that believing otherwise is a sign of poor education.134 In other words, misplaced faith in writing evinces ignorance of its faults, for no one with any sense would knowingly choose ineffective means to pursue serious goals. Yet to justify censuring such misplaced 131
Devices: 266d-267d, cf. 269b-c, 272a; combination: 268d, cf. 264b-d; tastes: 1x01x1X7] [xev noixCkovq (JjoxYJ xal ixavapjiovLout; SiSoue; X6you<;, a7xXou<; 8k aixXfj (277c2-3); cf. 270d, 271b, d-e, 272a. 132 277c4-7, referring to 260d and 274a. 11 o au ixepi TOU xaXov 7] oatxxpov sivca TO Xoyouc; Xeyeiv xe xoa ypacpeiv, xoa 01x7] yt.yvop.svov sv SLXT] Xsyoix' av oveiSoc; r\ (JLTJ; 7\.pa ou SSSTJXWXSV xa Xe^&evxa oXlyov e(j/rxpoo-&ev . . . U>Q eixe AUGLCLQ T] XIQ aXkoc, ixwixoTE sypa^ev 7j ypa^et. iSla f\ o"7](j.oala, vo\iouq xi&zlq, auyypajj.p.a 1xoXt.Ti.x6v ypatpcov, xtxi (jLsyaXTjv xiva ev auxw (3e(3aiox7]xa 7]yo6(j.evoc; xal aacp7]ve(.av, ouxco \xkv 6vei8o<; xw ypacpovxt, etre xic, 97]ai.v ei/xe [JLT]- TO yap ayvoeiv, uixap xe xal ovap, St.xai.wv xal aSlxwv Txspi xal xaxwv xal ayaQ-wv, oux excpeuyet. rrj aX7]&ela [vr\ oux eixovslStaTov elvoa, ouSe av 6 rzac, ojkoc, auTO ercaiveaT] (277dl-e3). 134 Cf. 275c-d; this is a direct answer to the question of 274b6-7, cf. 258d7-8, 259el-3.
178 faith, Socrates draws on his earlier condemnation of the sophistic attempt to separate rhetoric from morality, and explains that failure to understand justice, goodness, and so on is shameful, despite the fact that audiences tend to respond favorably to pandering.135 This reveals an integral link between the critique of writing and the attack on sophistic, and tends to subordinate it to that attack. The critique itself cites inherent cognitive flaws of the written word that perhaps transcend the immediate context of Socrates' argument, but the ultimate meaning of the critique must be sought in the specific role it has in the larger argument that supplies its context. Socrates' goal is not to utterly ban writing, or to bar writers from law, education, and the arts, but to raise awareness of the unadvertised aspects of writing that make it prone to naive excess and sinister abuse. The passage clearly indicates that its context is sophistic rhetoric, so one may fairly take its point to be that, since the sophists teach literary polish as a substitute for morality, it is fair to consider belletrism a predictor of amorality.136 The argument is something like this: endangering people is shameful; amoral rhetoric endangers people; sophistic rhetoric is amoral and belletristic; so belletrism is shameful. Socrates' jump from belletrism to amorality here might be taken to imply a unique, necessary causal link that he should try to substantiate somehow, yet he probably does not intend so strong a claim, but is simply, taking a shortcut, for Phaedrus is no logician. Anyone who feels a sincere vocation
135
For this rejection, see 260c and e, quoted above, 124 sq. With 260c6 and d5, the sense of TO ayvoslv here must be more like "ignoring" than "ignorance," i.e., not sheer lack, but indifference to or neglect of knowledge. 136 Contextual hints: (1) reference to moral ignorance (see prev. n.); (2) the hendiadis "writing and delivery," in which TS links the two infinitives into one idea; and (3) specific mention of Lysias—this clause blends elements of 258d and 261a, cf. 261dl l-e2, which all emphasize the breadth of rhetoric.
179 to practice oratory should make a responsible effort to learn the proper methodology from a real expert who includes morality in his curriculum and discourages excessive writing. Continuing to summarize the moral implications of the day's lessons, Socrates begins to contrast the corruptive sophistic uses of writing with its therapeutic philosophic uses by attributing a series of beliefs to an ideal philosophic speaker. Our man thinks that written speech on any topic is inherently playful, and that, verse or prose, no speech worth taking very seriously has ever been written or delivered merely to persuade without examination and teaching, but that truly the best of these originate as the notes of knowledgeable men.137 Socrates expands his criticism of writing here by interlacing it with elements from his earlier attack on sophistic rhetoric, and to help Phaedrus overcome the effects of moral corruption, he makes the lesson more vivid by setting up a philosophic role model whose example is a far better target for emulation than any "model" speech. First, this speaker is wary of writing because he understands the lesson of the Theuth myth: serious ends require trustworthy means, but writing's flaws make it undependable, so excessive reliance on it should be avoided.138 Second, a more sweeping and vehement claim, no speech, whether written or spoken, prosaic or poetic, will ever be valid if it aims to pander or manipulate. This clause prescinds from the oral-written distinction to target all doxic speech, for the moral argument
137
' 0 8e ye sv [ikv xfi ysypafji[iiv« Aoyco rcepl exaaxou Tcai.8t.av xs rjyou^evoi; TCOAXIQV dvayxaTov slvaixai ouSsva TTWTCOTE Aoyov, sv [jiexpto ouS' aveu pixpou, (j.eyaA7]<; aE,iov CJTCOOSYJ? ypacprjvat. ouSe XeyJ)vjvat ax; oi pa^w8ou[xevo(. atveu avaxpiaeox; xai StSa^TJ?, nei&ovc; evsxa !Ae)(£b]<jav, dXXa TW OVXL auxwv xouc; fie\xlcsxovq ei&oxcov UTC6(J.VT]CT(.V ysyovevat. (277e5-278a2). 138 STCOUST) and TcaiSid clearly recall 276b-e, the horticultural metaphor, which establishes the moral responsibilities of teachers and implicitly censures sophistic for abdicating that responsibility.
180 condemns such persuasion simpliciter, with no reference to the issue of writing, and doxic speeches exclude analysis and teaching almost by definition.139 Also, anticipating potential loopholes, he explains that his critique applies to verse no less than to prose, for meter is no more than a charm, and can neither improve nor overcome the inherent limitations of writing and sinister essence of deceit, but it is in fact more likely to exacerbate them.140 Third, even the best of the defective forms of speech, written didactic speeches, can never be more than reminders, the memoirs or notes of someone who has independent knowledge of the subject of the speech, which can be useful only to him or to someone else who already knows the subject.141 Socrates is not just summarizing his critique here, but extending it to a larger class of speeches, not just those in written form, but also those with manipulative intent. Turning from the deficient forms of speech favored in sophistic rhetoric, and taking up the criteria speech must meet to qualify as philosophic, Socrates lays out his ideal of moral education by attributing its chief tenets to his ideal speaker. He believes there is clarity, perfection, and serious worth only in speeches about the just, the noble, and the good that are used for teaching, delivered for the sake of understanding, and truly engraved in a human soul, and that such speeches should be considered his own legitimate sons, first the one in him, if one is there to be found, then definitely its offspring and brothers, if, as is fitting, any grew with it in the souls
139
Education, which improves the soul and is the aim of philosophic rhetoric (264d), is contrary to manipulation (277c), which corrupts the soul and is the aim of sophistic rhetoric; writing and manipulation both subvert the aims of education (276c), so it is natural to combine them here; see also n. 10, above. 140 Socrates considers poetry a kind of rhetoric (258b, d, 278c), and his most serious charge against poetry in the Republic is moral corruption (3.389d-391e, 10.605c-606d). Sophistic rhetoric imitated the seductive charms of poetry in seeking to deceive, and implicitly sought moral justification for it in the poetic tradition (n. 21, above). 141 By this he must mean written speeches that lack manipulative intent, a reference to the critique of writing (275dl; cf. 275a5, 276d3) that legitimizes but limits the role of writing in philosophic education.
181 of other men, but the rest he gladly avoids.142 The best speeches must have as their subjects the just, the noble, and the good, a triad of moral concepts that stands by enumeration for morality in general.143 Their delivery144 must conform to three requirements: they must be taught or used in an instructional setting,145 they must be communicated specifically for the sake of learning or understanding,146 and they must be engraved in a pupil's soul, committed to memory in a deep way as character traits, not just used to win votes, money, or favors and then forgotten.147 Unlike the rejected forms of speech, those meeting all these criteria are accepted as clear, perfect, and seriously worthwhile.148 The passage closes by using kinship terminology to emphasize the gravity of moral education, the intimate scale of its ideal form, and the organic relation between the dialecti-
142
'Ev 8e xolc; §t.8aaxo(jivo(.<; xal £j.a9if]crew<; ycupiv ^£T'o^svoic, xal xw OVTI ypacpopivoi<; ev 4JUXT1 ^Pl Sixalcov re xal xaXcov xal dyaQ-Sv, [ev] \xovoic, TO xe evapysc; elvaa xal xeXeov xal d^tov GKOU&rfc,- helv 8k XOUQ TOCOUTOUI; X6you<; auxou Xeyscr&ai olov ulelc; yv7]CTLou<; elvai, upcoTov [xev xov ev auxu edv eupeftelc; evrj, eTceixa el xtve? TOUXOU Ixyovol xe xal dSeXcpol dp.a ev aXXaicav aXXwv tyuyaZq xax' d^lav svecpuaav- xou<; Se aXXou<; yjx.ipeiv ecov (278a2-b2). 143 Similar groupings of moral concepts appear at 260al-2, c6-10, 261c8-d5, 263a9, 272d5, 276c3, e2-3, 277el, and 278a3-4; such topics are already implicitly the subject of much rhetoric as per 263a-b. 144 272a8-bl shows that the verb Xeyw can serve as both genus (Xeyeiv = "delivery") and species (Xeywv = "speaking"); as genus, it includes other forms of expression (SiSaaxwv, ypdwpwv); the juxtaposition of these same three terms here also shows that Socrates still has rhetoric very much in mind. 145 Ai8aaxo[iivo(.q at 278a2 balances dveu . . . S(.Sa^% at 277e9; a main charge against writing is its inability to teach (275a7-bl, 276c9), just as bogus teaching is a main charge against the sophists (268dl, 269b3, cl-2, 8); dialectic (265d5, 269b7) and psychology (271b3, 272bl) are required for good teaching. 146 Ma&Y)crsco<; x*PLV Xeyo^evoig at 278al-2 balances Xe^&YJvai. .. Tieiftouc; evexa at 277e8-9, contrasts with Ttai&ia<; X*PLV a t 276b5 and 276d2, and most importantly, rejects Tisian agnosticism (260al-5), not just as an ineffective rhetorical strategy, but as morally pernicious. 147 276a; 276e-277a. 148 Despite some similarity, evapye<; and xeXeov are not the same as <jacpe<; and (3e(3at.ov (275c7, 277d8-9), but indicate something deeper; there is only one other locus for evapye<; in the dialogue, 250d, where it appears three times to express the clarity and immediacy of the Ideas to the unencumbered soul; xeXeov has a similar emphatic ontological sense at 249c (cf. 269c-e, 272a), and together these point to a connection between this summary and the doctrines of the palinode; on a£t,ov GTZO^TIQ, see nn. 138, 154.
182 cian and his work. As his metaphorical sons, morally edifying speeches are natural products of his own flourishing; they are his legacy and proxy to future ages, and his dearest and greatest accomplishment.149 Their legitimacy is the ultimate seal of this, for it means they are planned, consciously executed, and seriously intended as legal heirs, children for whom the speaker cares as much or more than for himself, and who are never the result of lust or other desultory urges. This moral speech he must first find in himself through study and dialectic, then later, if his interactions with students and colleagues lead them to develop similar ideas, these may be said to be brothers or offspring of the first speech if, as one might expect, they take root in those other souls.150 Moral education is a duty, but it is also the deepest expression of self-interest, for a lover of wisdom knows his body will eventually die, and by passing the formula of his happiness to a younger soul he maximizes his wisdom's chance of surviving his death and winning him a sort of immortality. His speeches have the power to reproduce themselves in the characters of others, for as salutary, they lead those who have absorbed them to flourish, and as fecund, they empower them to teach, both by precept and by example. Healthy, vital specimens are the ones generally best able to reproduce. By thus expanding his horticultural metaphor to the level of biology, Socrates drives home the moral urgency of philosophic education and underscores its role as an instrument 149
This recalls the valuation of intellectual legacy above flesh offspring at Symposium 208a-209e. "ETZZIXO. and xax' di;iav here express Socrates' confidence that most lessons will be absorbed if the proper conditions are met, but there is a tension with the lav and et, which acknowledge that educational outcomes involve more than just instructional competence and curricular adequacy, but depend on other factors like talent and practice (269d), not to mention such external variables as family (239e), friends (239b), wealth (240a), and even luck (Meno 95d-e, 99e). 150
183 for promoting human flourishing. All souls naturally desire the good, but some are confused about how best to achieve it, and pursue inferior goods like honor, wealth, and pleasure instead of superior ones like learning and virtue, which are better means to happiness. Prudence or wise judgment,
is also deadly when abused, and is thus controlled by law and available only through properly
151
Plato saw inculcation of virtue as a key goal of philosophic education (270b, cf. Laws 7.807d). On external patterns, see Protagoras 326c-d, Laws 7.811d-e, Gorgias 504d-e, Timaeus 89d-90d, Laws 10.897c-898a.
184 trained and certified medical professionals. Socrates has already shown that philosophers are like physicians, and referred explicitly to drugs (and so implicity to writing already) when using the medical analogy to explain why those intending to practice philosophic rhetoric require extensive education. Prepared written lectures may be of some use in imparting the virtues and desirable convictions that it is the philosophic educator's job to produce in the souls of his students, but they must be used with caution, for the process of writing has a way of taking over and becoming an end in itself. The myth near the beginning of the discussion made the same point: devotion to the Muses is potentially a route to philosophy and immortality, but if one overindulges and forgets to eat and drink, stupor, death, and disgrace will follow.152 So since writing, like a narcotic, has the power both to harm and to heal, extensive learning and sound judgment are needed to insure that it is used as a tool for philosophic growth, not abused as a soporific redoubt for vanity, sloth, or hedonism. The idealized sketch Socrates presents of dialectic with a learned, benevolent mentor largely concludes his case for the superiority of philosophic education. Careful, reflective study confirms that his dialectician is the personified antithesis of sophistic instructional methods. Yet because Socrates' order of exposition inserts the critique of writing between this ideal portrait and the main discussion of sophistic rhetoric, some readers may miss the integral connection and full meaning of these important sections of the dialogue. The vivid form, focused message, and profound ramifications of the critique naturally make it stand 152
258e-259d; cf. Republic 7.528e-534e, Timaeus 89d-90d, Laws 10.897c-898a.
185 out, and Plato would probably be satisfied if beginning readers took his warning about the dangers of the written word to heart, even if they learned little else from the Phaedrus. But such a reading would not be complete, and he would likely expect more from his advanced readers. Discerning the subtle threads of meaning that tie the critique to its setting requires effort, but once found, they explain a great deal. The key summary that follows the critique of writing expressly integrates its chief points with the earlier lessons that criticized the sophistic curriculum's substitution of opinion for truth and technical jargon for psychology, and thus shows that the critique is vital because it is the third main topic Socrates uses to organize his argument for philosophy as an alternative to and cure for sophistic moral corruption. The critique of writing raises many interesting questions, foremost among which is probably the paradox of how one should understand such a critique when it is itself presented as part of a written text, for it seems, like the well-known liar paradox, to undermine its own credibility. Taken at face value, it could threaten the status and value of Plato's entire oeuvre, and, carried to an extreme, the whole received canon of Western culture. Yet if nothing serious can be communicated in writing—and Socrates even specifies that most of the Phaedrus, aside from the doctrine of division and collection, is playful—how serious can the critique of writing itself be? One need not go too deeply into the subtleties of the various positions that have been taken153 to realize that the meaning of the key playful-serious distinction varies
153
One should consider Burger, 100-105; J. Klein, A Commentary on Plato's Meno (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1965; repr. Chicago, 1989), 10-23; and L. Strauss, The City and Man (Charlottesville: The University Press of Virginia, 1964; repr. Chicago, 1978), 52-54, who argue fortasse recte that Pla-
186 with context, and that careful reading is necessary. Play is an essential part of education, which is itself the most serious of human concerns, yet human affairs themselves are but play when compared with matters that are truly serious, like the eternal and divine.154 The role of context in illuminating the meaning of the critique of writing cannot be overstated. In formally concluding the discussion, Socrates refers to the writings of Lysias, Homer, and Solon as representing the fields of rhetoric, poetry, and law, and reveals that his point is not to dismiss all writers simply for writing, but to criticize those who have nothing of any substance to teach. The three-pronged test Socrates offers, knowing the truth about one's subject, being able to defend one's oeuvre, and personally exemplifying the superiority of live speech, is his way of distinguishing cheap sophistic belletrism from precious philosophic teaching. As he says, the writer who has nothing better to offer than his writings, TOV \LY] eyovxa. Tifxiw-tepa, can never be more than a rhetor, poet, or legislator, whereas the author who can pass the triple test is no mere writer, but a philosopher, for he understands that there neither is, nor will there ever be, anything Tt-fjaco-cspov, more precious to mankind or esteemed by the gods, than education of the soul.155
tonic dialogues surmount the limitations of writing and interact with readers. Others, e.g., G. Reale, Toward a New Interpretation of Plato, tr. J. Catan and R. Davies (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic Univeristy of America Press, 1997); and T.A. Szlezak, Reading Plato, tr. G. Zanker (London and New York: Routledge, 1999), 39-46, take the critique as evidence that Plato's oral teachings are not to be found in the dialogues, a view criticized by e.g., L. Brisson, "Premises, Consequences, and Legacy of an Esotericist Interpretation of Plato," Ancient Philosophy 15 (1995): 117-34, and W. Kiihn, La fin du Phedre de Platon: Critique de la rhetorique et de I'ecriture (Firenze: Leo S. Olschki Editore, 2000). Derrida, 61-171, seems to go the farthest in holding that Plato's ambivalence to writing undermines the history of Western metaphysics. 154 Republic 7.536e, Timaeus 59c-d, Laws 7.803a-e, 819b-c; HGP 4.56-65 treats this question. 155 278b-e; 241c.
187 The Phaedrus, along with Plato's other dialogues, falls among xobq fisk-zio-zouq, the best of the group of speeches that are didactic yet written reminders to the author and to others like him who know their subject.156 The dialogues are imitations of live philosophic dialectic with Socrates himself, who famously did not write. Plato seems to be acknowledging the rarity of his master's talents, and admitting the difficulty of delivering protracted didactic discourses that do not rely somehow on a text. Philosophic texts are superior to others for educational use, but because of some generic similarities between philosophic and sophistic practices, Plato probably felt a need to highlight the specific differences between the two approaches. Even the best philosophic dialogues are no substitute for a live instructor, but in the hands of one who knows their subject matter and understands how to interpret them properly, they can come to life and be of real value. At worst, the dialogues might be considered a second-best form of education, much like the second-best form of love at the end of the palinode, or the numerous second-best standards endorsed in the Laws. For human souls who must cope with the burdens of embodied life, the nearest approach to divine wisdom possible for mankind is philosophy. Given the weakness of human memory, especially among the older souls who make the best teachers, concessions to a second-best standard of philosophic instruction that makes careful use of written reminders is perfectly reasonable.
A literal reading of the critique of writing would seem to suggest that a text like the Phaedrus could risk corrupting its readers if not administered correctly, for it cannot choose 156
278al, see above, 177-80.
188 its audience, adjust its delivery to their needs and level of preparation, or defend itself without help. Accordingly, since the lack of a qualified teacher might lead a nai've reader to suffer corruption, either by getting ensnared in the dialogue's literary graces or by taking the speech of Lysias as a warrant for licentiousness, it should be prescribed only by a qualified physician of souls, and only to students who, in his judgment, are adequately prepared for a dose of such peculiarly strong medicine. To understand the timeless relevance of, for example, its analysis of love, its appeal to eschatology, or its argument for the value of a well-rounded liberal arts education, its readers should already have some familiarity with other dialogues, philosophies, and disciplines, as well as a fair amount of real lived experience. In most cases, the dialogue should incite to the further study of philosophy. Any reader motivated enough to pick it up on his own will probably have the sense to see through its sirenic fagade and discover at least some part of its deeper meaning, and others, if they encounter it at all, will likely do so in an academic setting, where if they are lucky they will have a good teacher who will guide them in their reading. As a written work, the Phaedrus will always carry a certain risk of misinterpretation, but since its potential benefits are so great, it should be retained as an essential part of any balanced philosophic curriculum. This chapter has argued that, in the discussion making up the closing third of the Phaedrus, Socrates reveals that sophistic rhetoric is a major cause of moral corruption in general and of Phaedrus's difficulties in particular, and cites literary models, technical devices, and doxic persuasion as three chief sources of its corruptive power. He describes three
189 corresponding alternative features of philosophic pedagogy that make it an effective remedy: its guiding aim of knowing the truth, its systematic emphasis on psychology, and its methodological requirement of dialectic with experienced mentors. These lessons reinforce each other as Socrates shows Phaedrus that if he really wants to be a good speaker, a deep theoretical education in logic, physics, and psychology will serve him much better than an ad hoc curriculum narrowly focused on tropes, topics, and public opinion; that he should seek clear, activating oral instruction rather than emulating vague written speeches; and that he should reject manipulative persuasion in any form and focus instead on the moral education of posterity. These lessons are designed to help Phaedrus escape moral corruption by redirecting him from sophistic to philosophy, and to suggest to a wider audience that such a conversion is both possible and desirable, not just for Phaedrus, but for others like him who may stand to benefit from philosophy. As a case study in the philosophic cure of moral corruption, the dialogue goes beyond the mere presentation of its doctrines to stimulate reader involvement by dramatizing their practical application to a specific soul.
Chapter Six Conclusion In arguing that the Phaedrus is a case study in the philosophic treatment of moral corruption, the foregoing chapters have tried to show that the best way to get a firm grasp on the overall meaning of the dialogue is by sustained analysis of its individual sections, careful reflection on its dramatic nuances, and systematic application of its own medical analogy for moral education as a hermeneutic principle. The following pages address two lingering questions suggested by this interpretation: what does the uncertain extent of Phaedrus's own moral improvement and commitment to philosophy at the end of the dialogue imply about the viability of philosophic moral education; and what practical lessons can be drawn from the tension between the Phaedrus's critique of writing and its own status as a written work? Since the speeches offer Phaedrus no opportunity to speak for himself and the interludes mainly show the extent of his corruption, the final discussion is the only part of the dialogue capable of providing evidence of intellectual and moral improvement.1 A survey of this section reveals mixed signals, but on balance offers hope, for despite sporadic displays of enthusiasm and loyalty, careful reading suggests that Phaedrus's devotion to sophistic is not very deep. A good first indicator of this is his sudden loss of faith in Lysias after the palinode, but a pattern soon emerges, for when Socrates gives him an opportunity to represent his teachers he does a poor job, and is soon reduced to re-reading the Eroticus and cheering
1
The discussion's doctrinal substance is analyzed in ch. 5; the following paragraphs emphasize dramatic clues.
190
191 as Socrates supplies missing details and arguments.2 He has nothing to say when offered a final chance to defend the Tisian system, but recognizes the argument Socrates provides, suggesting his grasp of rhetoric is only passive.3 Either he has not been studying it long, or else sophistic teaching methods are so poor they scarcely leave a cognitive impression. Phaedrus is no match for Socrates as an interlocutor, but he does show a good disposition, basic intellectual skills, and even signs of cognitive progress. He responds positively to elenchus, enthusiastically accepts Socrates' invitation to discuss larger questions suggested by the love speeches,4 and remains cooperative even as Socrates refutes Tisian agnosticism.5 He patiently follows Socrates' argument on the difference between univocal and equivocal subjects, and grasps the connection between this lesson and the earlier love speeches.6 He remembers and applies Socrates' key organic unity principle in a new context, even after several intervening pages of lessons.7 When Socrates appeals directly to authorities from medicine, tragedy, and music to show that literary devices can never be anything more than the preliminaries of an art of speech,8 Phaedrus voices clear signs of understanding, absorption, and even conversion as he goes, in only a page and a half, from saying that sophistic
2
He is willing to forsake Lysias at 257c-d, takes the side of sophistic rhetoric at 259e-260a, admits that his knowledge of rhetoric is limited at 261b-c, and, foreshadowing the critique of writing, slavishly repeats the beginning of the Eroticus at 262e and 263e-264a when he is unable to defend it in elenchus; yet his responses at 265a-268a show he is still enthusiastic. 3 272c, 273a. 4 258b-e. 5 262c-d; at this point, a hostile interlocutor would become angry or insolent, or simply leave. 6 263a-c. 7 263d-264e; 268d. 8 268a-269c.
192 rhetorical devices "are very forceful, particularly at public gatherings," to admitting that "the art these men teach and publish as rhetoric is quite likely to be just the sort of thing you have said it is."9 When Socrates teaches about the knowledge a great speaker must have and sketches a curriculum based on the analogy between medicine as a therapeutic art of the body and rhetoric as a therapeutic art of the soul,10 Phaedrus understands instantly;11 he shows intelligence again a bit later by rephrasing the writing critique.12 Yet he has his limits. When Socrates explains the analytic method required for full knowledge of the soul, Phaedrus observes only that Socrates' program for a new rhetoric seems like a tall order.13 Again, when Socrates finally dismisses Tisias with a firm summary of philosophic rhetoric, Phaedrus approves, but repeats his earlier estimate of the difficulty of attaining such an ideal.14 This is difficult material by any account, and modesty is fitting. Further, Phaedrus shows clear signs of substantive moral improvement, for he twice goes out of his way to express anti-hedonistic sentiments that agree with the palinode,15 and even more significantly, he seconds all three of Socrates' prayers. The first prayer, to Eros, seeks forgiveness for the first two speeches, preservation of Socrates' own erotic skill, and conversion of both Lysias and Phaedrus to philosophy. By joining in this prayer, Phaedrus
9
268a4; 269c7-8. 269d-270c. 11 270c4-6. 12 276a. 13 270c-272b. 14 272c-274a. 15 See 258e and 276e. 10
193 suggests he is willing to reject the hedonistic ethos of the Eroticus, accept the erotic ideal of the palinode, and adopt a more philosophic way of life. Yet he hesitates, adding "if these things are really better for us," suggesting he is not yet fully convinced, and immediately turns his attention back to the competitive aspect of the speeches.16 His response to Socrates' second prayer, which, in summarizing the discussion's lessons on how to speak and write philosophically describes the ideal teacher, praises him for his single-minded devotion to the moral education of posterity, and sets him up as a role model, is much firmer.17 He no longer hesitates, but agrees wholeheartedly to the prayer, suggesting that the discussion has reinforced and solidified the palinode's effect on his beliefs. Socrates' third and final prayer comes at the end of the dialogue as he says that the two men should honor the local gods who inspired the day's lessons. Beloved Pan and all ye other gods here, kindly grant me beauty within: however great my worldly fortunes, reconcile them with my inner qualities. May I deem the wise man rich, and as for the sum of my gold, let it be no more than a restrained man would claim or keep for himself.18 Phaedrus joins in this prayer even more heartily that he did the second, and shows none of the uncertainty he did after the first. Given its key position at the dialogue's end, the consistency and determination implied by the fact that it is third, and the poignancy of its message, his assent suggests that the lessons of the palinode and discussion have made a lasting im16
257a-c; note the residual distrust lurking in ecuep at b8. 277a-278b. 18 T Q cpiXe ndcv xs xal OLXKOL oaoi rfjSe Q-eoi, SOLTJTS [O.OL xaXw yevea&aa xavSo&ev- e^wQ-ev 8e oaa ex w ' •zoic, lyxbq elvaa [JLOC cpiAia. riXouacov 8e vofii^oijii TOV aocpov- TO Se yjpvaou TCATJ&O? ztr\ (xoi oaov [d]xz cpepeiv \xr\xe aysiv Suvaa-co OLXKOQ r\ 6 awcppcov (279b8-c3). 17
194 pression, and that Socratic moral education has improved his character.19 The prayer leaves the technical concerns of the discussion behind to deliver a pious ode to restraint.20 The inner beauty it seeks, beauty of the soul, is virtue. The wise man's virtue is a form of wealth because it is a true good, a possession that leads to happiness by fortifying reason's rule over appetite, whereas conventional riches are a spurious good that mainly serves the appetites and undermines the psychic harmony of restraint.21 Recognizing that both excess and deficiency of external goods can impair virtue,22 Socrates prays that his estate may support or be compatible with his virtues, not undermine or negate them; that his scheme of values may reflect the superiority of wisdom to property; and that restraint may govern his acquisitive impulses. As these moral ideals epitomize the Socratic good life, the primary function of the prayer is to set an example for Phaedrus and others who share his tastes. The three ideals may seem merely to repeat one basic sentiment with variations of syntax and vocabulary, but they in fact move from general to specific to develop a dialectical hierarchy. External good is the genus of the species wealth, which is the genus of the species gold, and internal good is the genus of the species wisdom, which is the genus of the species restraint. The prayer thus uses diaeresis to help organize the moral theme of the palinode, which, in praising committed intellectual friendship as noble and blaming the licentious pursuit of favors as base, affirmed 19
279b-c; cf. Heitsch, 124-25. T. Rosenmeyer, "Plato's Prayer to Pan," Hermes 90 (1962): 34-44; D. Clay, "Socrates' Prayer to Pan," in Arktouros, ed. Bowersock, Burkert, and Putnam (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1979), 345-53; K. Gaiser, "Das Gold der Weisheit," Rheinisches Museum fur Philologie 132 (1989): 105-40; Griswold, 226-29; White, Rhetoric, 271-76. 21 Socrates just said (278d3-4) that true wisdom is possible only for god, so he must mean philosophy here. 22 Wealth and poverty both corrupt the human soul {Republic 4.421d-422a; Laws 11.919b-c). 20
195 the restraint of raw desire as a crucial part of the good life. Pecuniary greed was not an overt theme there, but this prayer, like the middle speech, recognizes that lust and greed are kindred vices symptomatic of corruption of the innate human longing for the good.23 The Eroticus captures the spirit of amoral pleonexic expediency and applies it narrowly to the question of erotic choice. It does not try to show every detail of sophistic rhetoric, but represents it analogically by setting the vast, complex public drama of economic and political intrigue on the smaller, simpler stage of private erotic choice, illustrating further the didactic power of the diaeretic method, which functions laterally as well as vertically by revealing the analogical kinship among sibling- and cousin-ideas in addition to the participatory inheritance of properties between parent- and offspring-ideas.24 The paradoxical thesis and puerile topic of the Eroticus, by appealing to an impressionable, at-risk audience, help the dialogue promulgate its moral message more widely and target it more effectively than a dry literal attack on rhetorical corruption would, and leads naturally to larger concerns. Citing friendship, Phaedrus seconds the prayer, and the two depart, bringing the dialogue to a close. The dramatic evidence seems to suggest that Phaedrus has understood and accepted the results of Socrates' lessons, but the depth of these new convictions is nonetheless open to question. Has Phaedrus learned enough to protect himself from seduction and corruption? Will he report Socrates' message to Lysias and try to turn him to better pursuits?
23 24
Heitsch, 228-29, is likely right to see here a subtle criticism of sophists who demand pay for their lessons. Cf. Aristotle Poetics 1457b6-9.
196 Will this role suit him and lead him to a more philosophic life himself? Do his parting words invoking friendship reflect acceptance and internalization of the moral of the palinode, or is it a hint that he is just agreeing with whatever Socrates says because they are friends? And even if Socrates has persuaded Phaedrus's intellect, can one lesson have a lasting influence on his moral disposition absent suitable reinforcement? Will this lesson endure the sophistical parry of other teachers and the compelling weight of public opinion? In other words, are the clues that encourage optimism about the possibility of philosophic moral education really persuasive? There are two ways to approach this question. Based on internal evidence, the dialogue's answer is mixed. On the pessimistic side, if Phaedrus is still devoted to Lysias,25 his repeated agreement with Socrates may reflect not reasoned approval, but the ingrained habits of a rhetoric buff who has learned to coax extra lessons from reluctant teachers who are as a rule encouraged by flattery rather than dissent.26 He loves rhetoric because it seems urbane and sophisticated, and his tastes are unlikely to change overnight. Yet Socrates' labors may still help him, even if they do not bring an immediate, full conversion, for on the optimistic side, the final prayer is a capstone that would be wasted on an unprepared or hostile audience, so its inclusion suggests that Socrates believes his day's work has elevated Phaedrus to an opportune, teachable moment when his lessons stand a good chance of sinking in and having a lasting effect. He has shown Phaedrus
25 26
Socrates describes Lysias as Phaedrus's buddy, kxalpoq, at 278e4, and boyfriend, TtoaSixa, at 279b3. At 242a-b, Socrates claims Phaedrus has inspired more speeches in his time than anyone save Simmias.
197 the dangers of crude hedonism and sophistic rhetoric, explained the value of diaeretic knowledge, moral ideas, and human souls, and provided a living logos to help him flourish, teach others, and found a direct tradition for the philosophic moral education of posterity. Based on evidence external to the dialogue, the answer is somewhat different. The historical record suggests that Plato must have known quite well at the time he was writing the dialogue that Phaedrus had ultimately failed to live up to Socrates' erstwhile hopes for him.27 Socrates did all he could, under the circumstances, to try to save a promising young aristocrat from moral corruption. He may have failed in this and in other cases, but Plato still had to show that his influence itself was not corrupting but salutary, and that those of his companions who did turn out badly did so not because of his ministrations, but despite them. This was true not only of his personal influence, but also for the system of philosophy he founded, which, unlike the corruptive machiavellian hedonism of the sophists, was based on the politically disinterested pursuit of truth and goodness and tailored to improve the morals of the youth of Athens. But Socrates was a man, not a god: his conscience may have prevented him from abandoning Phaedrus after the middle speech, but it could not show him the future.28 The need to make decisions under conditions of uncertainty is endemic to embodied human life, and perseverance against great odds when outcomes are not guaranteed is the mark of a principled and courageous soul. The Platonic corpus portrays a Socrates who, even
27 28
Seech. 1. 242c; Socrates admits here to not being a very good seer; the daimonion is his conscience.
198 in defeat, is a worthy role model because of his devotion to moral education and his heroic struggle to keep the corruptive forces of public opinion and sophistic rhetoric at bay.
Reading the Phaedrus The Phaedrus is a good reminder of known truths, and thus an excellent example of philosophic writing. It is a virtual compendium of Platonic philosophy, including not only "early" Socratic themes like self-knowledge, definition, and elenchus, but also "middle" doctrines like eschatology, myth, and recollection, and even "late" subjects like diaeresis, selfmotion, and the affinity of god, the soul, and the stars. The tight packing of these topics requires critical analysis, but a good teacher should be able to derive many hours of lessons from it and prevent its study from degenerating into a romp in a garden of letters. But, one may wonder, if the lessons Plato offers in the Phaedrus are serious, why would he sugarcoat them with poetic and other distracting elements? For one thing, just as Socrates senses that Phaedrus needs to learn to look beyond the outward trappings of a speech to find its true substance, so Plato probably realized he would have many readers of a more or less Phaedran disposition who would benefit from the same lesson. Also, insofar as philosophy is an initiation into mysteries, the dialogue is a good leader of souls because it appeals to the innate human sense of wonder and curiosity. This is a powerful protreptic strategy, but not all readers will be equally receptive or persevering when faced with such a perplexing mixture of styles, themes, and tones, so the Phaedrus is to some extent able to select its own audience.
199 Socrates says a skilled speechwriter should adapt his style to suit the needs and tastes of his intended audience, and so "offer complex and elaborate speeches to a complex soul and simple speeches to a simple soul."29 If these guidelines are meant to apply to the dialogues themselves, the Phaedrus, given its elaborate structure and range of styles, is clearly intended for complex souls. But what does this mean? Near the beginning of the dialogue, Socrates dismisses the laborious demythologizing efforts of contemporary intellectuals to assert his interest in morality and Delphic self-knowledge, and says he wants to know whether he is "a beast more complicated and furious than Typho, or a tamer, simpler creature born to enjoy a divine, humble life."30 This association of complexity with bad character recalls the Republic, where complexity in music and regimen leads to licentiousness and disease, simplicity by contrast leads to restraint and health, and variety and complexity characterize the corruption of cities and souls by unnecessary "democratic" desires.31 If this is the intended context of the remarks, Plato is gently warning the more perceptive of his readers who feel drawn to the Phaedrus, whether they share Phaedrus's personal taste for literature, the arts, and general culture or for some other reason, about the slippery slope from unreflective aestheticism to moral corruption. Careless readers on the other hand may miss this subtle point, and be ensnared or even corrupted b y the d i a l o g u e ' s own charms.
But is it fair to read so much into this passage? After all, Socrates may just be trying 29
YloLy.iXji y.zv uocxlXouq ^XT)' xa <- TzoLvcnp[iovlo\jQ SiSou<; X6you<;, anXooQ 8e aicXf) (277c2-3). Sxoixw . . . el/re xi S-^plov xuy^avco Tucpwvcx; TroXuirXoxco-repov x a l [AOCXXOV eiriTe&ufJ.fi.evov, zlie Y](j.spcoTepov x s x a l aTrXoucrTspov (^wov, &ela.q XLVOQ x a l axucpou [j.olpa<; cpuaei [izrijov (230a3-6). 31 Republic 3.404e, 8.555b-561e. 30
200 to spell out in greater detail here the general principle that speeches should be designed to fit the souls of their intended audiences, whatever their character may happen to be, so that it is merely a coincidence that complexity is elsewhere assigned negative moral connotations. After all, his criticism of belletrism remains largely implicit, and much of the dialogue in fact leans the other way to validate connoisseurs. The palinode, for example, puts the soul that has been the best follower and imitator of god, and who has thus seen the most truth in heaven, into "a man who will become a philosopher, a lover of moral goodness, or someone cultured and erotic."32 Socrates reinforces this validation at the beginning of the discussion when he explains that the gods approve and reward devotion to the Muses, especially Kalliope and Urania, patronesses of the key philosophic arts of language and astronomy.33 If a reasonable conclusion is to be drawn from these contradictory strands, it must surely be that Phaedran literary enthusiasm is neither good nor bad in itself, but may incline either way, depending on the will and circumstances of the particular individuals it touches. Yet there remains the risk that some readers may misunderstand the Phaedrus owing to its undeniable complexity, so there is some ground for arguing that those who have understood and profited from its unique and challenging message bear some responsibility for ensuring that the dialogue does not inadvertently corrupt its less fortunate readers. This is really just a special case of the philosopher's general duty to return to the cave. Other texts, some
32
TYJV [XEV TiAe'iaxa iSouaav tic, yovYjv avSpo? yevvjaofxevou
259b-d.
201 Platonic dialogues among them, are clearly better suited to the needs of beginning philosophy students. To get the most from the Phaedrus, readers should have a personal understanding of the significance of the erotic question, an appreciation for the urgency of moral education, and the patience to read carefully and reflect on the subtle interconnection of its themes. Intermediate students with the background and maturity to appreciate how the dialogue marshals a wide range of philosophic resources to solve a specific moral question and then a broader problem in the theory of education are likely to benefit from studying it, and advanced students will find that it contains a wealth of details to supplement what other dialogues say about specific Platonic doctrines like recollection, moral psychology, and diaeresis, and that it is a vital source for a broader understanding of classical attitudes towards erotics and rhetoric. Advanced undergraduates and beginning graduate students are likely to benefit most from the dialogue, perhaps especially those who are drawn to its overt literary graces, for like Phaedrus himself, these students have talents worth nurturing, and should benefit from being pushed to read deeply and discover what lies beneath the surface.
Bibliography A. Primary Sources Andocides. On the Mysteries. Ed. D.M. MacDowell. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1962. Antiphon. Orationes et fragmenta adiunctis Gorgiae Antisthenis Alcidamantis declamationibus. Ed. F. Blass. Leipzig: Teubner, 1908. Aristophanes. Clouds. Ed. K.J. Dover. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968. Aristotle. The Art of Rhetoric. Tr. J.H. Reese. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1926. . Ethica Nicomachea. Ed. J. By water. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1894. . Metaphysics. Tr. H. Tredennick. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1933. . Poetics. Ed. D.W. Lucas. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968. . The Politics. Tr. C. Lord. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985. . Prior and Posterior Analytics. Ed. W.D. Ross. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1949. Reprint, London: Sandpiper Books, 2001. . Les Refutations Sophistiques. Tr. L.-A. Dorion. Paris: Vrin, 1995. Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker. 3 vols. 10th ed. Ed. H. Diels and W. Kranz. Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1961. Galen. In Hippocratis de natura hominis. Ed. I. Mewaldt. Corpus Medicorum Graecorum, vol. V. 9, 1. Leipzig: Teubner, 1914. . Selected Works. Tr. P.N. Singer. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997. The Greek Sophists. Tr. J. Dillon and T. Gergel. London: Penguin Books, 2003.
Hermeias of Alexandria. In Platonis Phaedrum scholia. Ed. P. Couvreur. Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlag, 1971.
202
Hippocrates. De I'Ancienne medecine. Tr. J. Jouanna. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1990. . On Ancient Medicine. Tr. M.J. Schiefsky. Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2005. Homer. Iliad. 2 vols. 3d ed. Ed. D.B. Munro and T.W. Allen. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1920. . The Iliad. Tr. R. Fagles. New York: Penguin Books, 1990. Isocrates. [Works.] 3 vols. Tr. G. Norlin and L. Van Hook. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1928-45. Lysias. [Speeches.] Tr. S.C. Todd. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2000. The Older Sophists. Ed. R.K. Sprague. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1972. Reprint, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 2001. Plato. Collected Dialogues. Ed. E. Hamilton and H. Cairns. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961. . Complete Works. Ed. J.M. Cooper and D.S. Hutchinson. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1997. . Faidros. Tr. F. Novotny. 5th ed. Prague: OIKOYMENH, 2000. . Fedro. Tr. L. Gil Fernandez. Madrid: Instituto de Estudios Politicos, 1957. . Fedro. Tr. G. Reale. Rome and Milan: Arnoldo Mondadori, 1998. . Four Dialogues of Plato [Protagoras, Phaedrus, Gorgias, Apology]. Tr. John Stuart Mill. London: Watts & Co., 1946. . Gorgias. Ed. E.R. Dodds. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1959. Clarendon Paperback, 1990. . Opera. 5 vols. Ed. J. Burnet. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1899-1906. . Phaedo. Ed. J. Burnet. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1911. . The Phaedrus of Plato. Ed. W.H. Thompson. London, 1868. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1973. 203
. Phaedrus. Tr. R. Hackforth. Cambridge: The University Press, 1952. . Phaedrus. Tr. A. Nehamas and P. Woodruff. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1995. . Phaedrus. 2d ed. Tr. C J. Rowe. Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 2000. . Phaedrus. Tr. R. Waterfield. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. . Phaidros. 2d ed. Tr. C. Ritter. Leipzig: Felix Meiner, 1922. . Phaidros. Tr. W. Buchwald. Munich: Ernst Heimeran Verlag, 1964. . Phaidros. 2d ed. Tr. E. Heitsch. Gottingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1997. . Phaidros. 3d ed. Tr. I.N. Theodorakopoulos. Athens: Georgos Basileios, 1971. . Phedre. Ed. L. Robin, C. Moreschini, and P. Vicaire. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1995. . Phedre. Tr. L. Brisson. Paris: GF - Flammarion, 1997. . Phedre. Tr. J. Cazeaux. Paris: Librairie Generale Francais, 1997. . Plato and Parmenides: Parmenides' Way of Truth and Plato's Parmenides. Tr. F.M. Cornford. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1939. . Plato's Cosmology: The Timaeus of Plato. Tr. F.M. Cornford. London: Routledge, 1935. Reprint, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1997. . Plato's Examination of Pleasure: The Philebus. Tr. R. Hackforth. Cambridge: The University Press, 1945. .Plato's Statesman. Tr. J.B. Skemp. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1952. . Plato's Theory of Knowledge: The Theaetetus and the Sophist. Tr. F.M. Cornford. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1935. . The Republic of Plato. 2 vols. 2d. ed. Ed. J. Adam. Cambridge: The University Press, 1969. 204
. The Republic. 2 vols. Tr. P. Shorey. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1930. . The Republic of Plato. Tr. F.M. Cornford. London: Oxford University Press, 1941. . Republic. Tr. G.M.A. Grube and C.D.C. Reeve. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1992. . The Sophist and the Statesman. Tr. A.E. Taylor. London: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1961. . Symposium. Tr. CJ. Rowe. Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1998. . [Works.] 12 vols. Tr. H.N. Fowler, W.R.M. Lamb, P. Shorey, and R.G. Bury. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1914-35. Plutarch. The Lives of the Noble Grecians and Romans. Tr. J. Dryden and A.H. Clough. New York: Modern Library, [1932]. Xenophon. Conversations of Socrates. Tr. H. Tredennick and R. Waterfield. London: Penguin Books, 1990.
B. Secondary Sources Ackrill, John. "In Defence of Platonic Division." In Ryle: A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. Wood and Pitcher, 373-92. Garden City: Doubleday, 1970. Adkins, A.W.H.Merit and Responsibility. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1960. . "The 'Speech of Lysias' in Plato's PhaedrusT In The Greeks and Us: Essays in Honor of Arthur W.H. Adkins, ed. R. Louden and P. Schollmeier. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1996. Allen, Michael. The Platonism ofMarsilio Ficirio. Berkeley: The University of California
Press, 1984. Allen, R.E. "Introduction." In Studies in Plato's Metaphysics, ix-xii. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1965. 205
. Plato's Euthyphro and the Earlier Theory of Forms. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1970. Aquinas, Thomas. Treatise on the Virtues. Tr. J.A. Oesterle. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1966. Reprint, Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 1984. Ardley, Gavin. "The Role of Play in the Philosophy of Plato." Philosophy 42 (1967): 226-44. Arieti, James A. Interpreting Plato: The Dialogues as Drama. Savage, Md.: Rowman and Littlefield Publishers, 1991. Arnim, Hans von. Platos Jugenddialoge und die Entstehungszeit des Phaidros. Leipzig: B.G. Teubner, 1914. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1976. Asmis, Elizabeth. "Psychagogia in Plato's Phaedrus." Illinois Classical Studies 11 (1986): 153-72. Autiquet, Michel. Platon: Eros pedagogue. Paris: Hachette Livre, 2000. Babut, Daniel. "Anaxagore juge par Socrate et Platon." Revue des Etudes Grecques 91 (1978): 44-76. Barnes, H.E. "Plato and the Psychology of Love, Phaedrus 252c-253c." Classical Weekly 40 (1946): 34-35. Barrow, Robin. Plato and Education. London and Boston: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1976. Beardsley, M.C. Aesthetics from Classical Greece to the Present: A Short History. University, Ala.: University of Alabama Press, 1975. Benardete, Seth. The Rhetoric of Morality and Philosophy. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1991. Benson, H. "Problems with Socratic Method." In Does Socrates Have a Method? Rethinking the Elenchus in Plato's Dialogues and Beyond, ed. Gary Allen Scott, 101-13. University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2002.
206
Bett, Richard. "Immortality and the Nature of the Soul in the Phaedrus." Phronesis 31 (1986): 1-26. Bloom, Allan. Love & Friendship. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993. Bluck, R.S. "The Phaedrus and Reincarnation." American Journal of Philology 79 (1958): 156-64. Blyth, Dougal. "The Ever-Moving Soul in Plato's Phaedrus." American Journal of Philology 118(1997): 185-217. Boudon-Millot, Veronique. "Art, science, and conjecture, from Hippocrates to Plato and Aristotle." In Hippocrates in Context, ed. PJ. Van Der Eijk, 87-99. Leiden & Boston: Brill, 2005. Bres, Yvon. La psychologie de Platon. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1968. Brisson, Luc. "L'unite du Phedre de Platon: rhetorique et philosophie dans le Phedre." In Understanding the Phaedrus, ed. L. Rossetti, 61-76. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 1992. . Orphee et I'orphisme dans Vantiquite greco-romaine. Aldershot: Variorum, 1995. . "Premises, Consequences, and Legacy of an Esotericist Interpretation of Plato." Ancient Philosophy 15 (1995): 117-34. Brown, Eric. "Knowing the Whole: Comments on Gill, 'Plato's Phaedrus and the Method of Hippocrates.'" The Modern Schoolman 80 (2003): 315-23. Brown, Malcolm, and James A. Coulter. "The Middle Speech of Plato's Phaedrus." In Plato: True and Sophistic Rhetoric, ed. K.V. Erickson, 239-64. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1979. Original, Journal of the History of Philosophy 6 (1968): 217-31. Burger, Ronna. Plato's Phaedrus: A Defense of a Philosophic Art of Writing. University, Ala.: University of Alabama Press, 1980.
Burkert, Walter. Lore and Science in Ancient Pythagoreanism. Tr. E.L. Minar. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972.
207
. Ancient Mystery Cults. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987. Cairns, D.L. Aidos: The Psychology and Ethics of Honour and Shame in Ancient Greek Literature. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993. Cambiano, Giuseppe. "Dialettica, medicina, retorica nel Fedro platonico." Rivista di Filosofia 57 (1966): 284-305. Cavarnos, Constantine. Plato's Theory of Fine Art. Athens: Astir Publishing Co., 1973. -. Fine Arts as Therapy: Plato's Teaching Organized and Discussed. Belmont: Institute for Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies, 1998. Cassirer, Ernst. "Eidos und Eidolon. Das Problem des Schonen und der Kunst in Platons Dialogen." Vortrdge der Bibliothek Warburg 2 (1922). Chadwick, Henry. "Conscience in Ancient Thought." In Studies on Ancient Christianity, XX, 166. Aldershot and Burlington: Ashgate—Varioaim, 2006. Charles, Casey. "A Horse is a Horse: Love and Sex in Plato's Phaedrus." Literature and Psychology 38 (1992): 47-70. Cherniss, Harold. Aristotle's Criticism of Plato and the Academy. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1944. . "The Relation of the Timaeus to Plato's Later Dialogues." The American Journal of Philology 78 (1957): 225-66. Reprinted in Studies in Plato's Metaphysics, ed. R.E. Allen, 339-78. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1965. Chisholm, R.M., and T.D. Feehan. "The Intent to Deceive." The Journal of Philosophy 74 (1977): 143-59. Clay, Diskin. "Socrates' Prayer to Pan." In Arktouros: Hellenic Studies Presented to Bernard M.W. Knox on the Occasion of his 65th Birthday, ed. Bowersock, Burkert, and Putnam, 345-53. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1979.
Cohen, Ada. "Portrayals of Abduction in Greek Art: Rape or Metaphor?" In Sexuality in Ancient Greek Art, ed. Natalie B. Kampen, 117-35. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996. 208
Cohen, D. "Sexuality, Violence, and the Athenian Law of Hybris" Greece and Rome 38 (1991): 169-88. Cohen, S.M. "Plato's Method of Division." In Patterns in Plato's Thought, ed. J.M.E. Moravcsik, 181-91. Dordrecht: D. Reidel Publishing, 1973. Connors, Robert J. "Greek Rhetoric and the Transition from Orality." Philosophy and Rhetoric 19 (1986): 38-65. Consigny, Scott. Gorgias, Sophist and Artist. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2001. Cooper, J.M. "Plato, Isocrates, and Cicero on the Independence of Oratory from Philosophy." Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy 1 (1985): 77-96. Corcoran, Clinton D. "Wrestling and the Fair Fight in Plato." Nikephoros 16 (2003): 61-85. Cornford, F.M. Before and after Socrates. Cambridge: The University Press, 1950. . Principium Sapientice. New York: Harper and Row, 1965. Crombie, Ian M. An Examination of Plato's Doctrines. 2 vols. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1962-63. Curran, Jane V. "The Rhetorical Technique of Plato's Phaedrus. Philosophy and Rhetoric 19 (1986): 66-72. Cushman, R.E. Therapeia: Plato's Conception of Philosophy. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1958. Reprint, 2002. De Lacy, Philip. "Plato and the Method of the Arts." In The Classical Tradition: Literary and Historical Studies in Honor of Harry Caplan, ed. L. Wallach, 123-32. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1966. Del Grande, Carlo. Hybris. Naples: Riccardo Ricciardi Editore, 1947. Demont, Paul. "Notes sur l'antilogie au cinquieme siecle." In La rhetorique grecque: Actes du colloque Octave Navarre, ed. J.-M. Galy and A. Thivel, 77-88. Publications de la 209
Faculte des Lettres, Arts, et Sciences Humaines de Nice, nouvelle serie, no. 19. Paris: C.I.D. Diffusion, 1994. Demos, Rafael. "Plato's Doctrine of the Psyche as a Self-Moving Motion." Journal of the History of Philosophy 6 (1968): 13 3-45. De Pater, W.A. Les Topiques d'Aristote et la dialectiqueplatonicienne. Fribourg: Editions St. Paul, 1965. De Romilly, Jacqueline. Magic and Rhetoric in Ancient Greece. Cambridge and London: Harvard University Press, 1975. . "Les conflits de l'ame dans le Phedre de Platon." Wiener Studien 95 (1982): 100-13. . The Great Sophists in Periclean Athens. Tr. Janet Lloyd. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992. Derrida, Jacques. "Plato's Pharmacy." In Dissemination, tr. B. Johnson, 61-171. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1981. Des Places, Edouard. Lexique de la langue philosophique et religieuse de Platon. 2 vols. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1964. Detienne, Marcel. The Gardens of Adonis. 2d ed. Tr. J. Lloyd. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994. . The Masters of Truth in Archaic Greece. Tr. J. Lloyd. New York: Zone Books, 1996. De Vries, Gerrit J. A Commentary on the Phaedrus of Plato. Amsterdam: Haakert, 1969. . "Mystery Terminology in Aristophanes and Plato." Mnemosyne 26 (1973): 1-8. . "A General Theory of Literary Composition in the Phaedrus.'" In Kephalaion, ed. J. Mansfeld and L.M. De Rijk, 50-52. Assen: Gorcum, 1975. . "A Note on Plato, Phaedrus 270 AC." Mnemosyne 35 (1982): 331-32. Dies, Auguste. Autour de Platon: Essais de critique et d'histoire. 2 vols. Paris: Beauchesne, 1927. Reprint (2 vols, in 1), New York: Arno Press, 1976. 210
Diesendruck, Z. Struktur und Charakter des platonischen Phaidros. Vienna and Leipzig: Wilhelm Braumiiller, 1927. Dillon, John, and Tania Gergel, eds. The Greek Sophists. London: Penguin, 2003. Dorter, Kenneth. "The Method of Division and the Division of the Phaedrus" Ancient Philosophy 26 (2006): 259-73. Dover, KJ. Lysias and the Corpus Lysiacum. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1968. . Greek Popular Morality in the Time of Plato and Aristotle. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1974. Reprint, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1994. . Greek Homosexuality. 2d ed. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1989. Druart, Therese-Anne. "The Timaeus Revisited." In Plato and Platonism, ed. J.M. Van Ophuijsen, 163-78. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1999. Dusanic, Slobodan. "Alcidamas of Elea in Plato's Phaedrus." Classical Quarterly 42 (1992): 347-57. . "Athenian Politics in Plato's Phaedrus.'" In Understanding the Phaedrus: Proceedings of the 2nd Symposium Platonicum, ed. Livio Rossetti, 229-32. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 1992. Dyson, M. "Zeus and Philosophy in the Myth of Plato's Phaedrus." Classical Quarterly 32 (1982): 307-11. Edelstein, Ludwig. T1EPIAEPQN und die Sammlung der hippokratischen Schriften. Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1931. . "Review of M. Pohlenz, Hippokrates und die Begriindung der wissenschaftlichen Medizin." The American Journal of Philology 61 (1940): 221-29. . Ancient Medicine, ed. O. Temkin and C.L. Temkin. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1967.
211
Fedier, Francois. La raison: Note sur la norme. Pour commencer a lire le Phedre de Platon. Paris: Lettrage Distribution, 2001. Ferngren, G.B. and D.W. Amundsen. "Virtue and Health/Medicine in Pre-Christian Antiquity." In Virtue and Medicine, ed. E.E. Shelp, 3-22. Dordrecht: D. Reidel, 1985. Ferrari, G.R.F. "The Struggle in the Soul: Plato, Phaedrus 253c7-255al. "Ancient Philosophy 5 (1985): 1-10. . Listening to the Cicadas: A Study of Plato's Phaedrus. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987. . "Platonic Love." In The Cambridge Companion to Plato, ed. R. Kraut. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992. — . "The Unity of the Phaedrus: A Response." Dialogos 1 (1994): 21-25. Fine, Gail. On Ideas: Aristotle's Criticism of Plato's Theory of Forms. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993. Finkelberg, Margalit. "Plato's Language of Love and the Female." Harvard Theological Review 90 (1997): 231-61. Fisher, J. "Plato on Writing and Doing Philosophy." Journal of the History of Ideas 27 (1966): 163-72. Fisher, N.R.E. Hybris. Warminster: Aris and Phillips, 1992. Foucault, Michel. The Use of Pleasure. Tr. R. Hurley. New York: Vintage Books, 1990. Frenkian, A.M. La methode hippocratique dans le Phedre de Platon. Bucharest: Imprimerie Nationale, 1941. Friedlander, Paul. Plato. 3 vols. Tr. H. Meyerhoff. Princeton: Princeton University Press [Bollingen], 1973. Fronterotta, Francesco, and Walter Leszl. Eidos - Idea: Platone, Aristotele, e la tradizione platonica. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 2005.
212
Furley, W.D. Andokides and the Herms: A Study of Crisis in Fifth-Century Athenian Religion London: Institute of Classical Studies, 1996. Gadamer, Hans-Georg. "The Theory of Dialectic in the Phaedrus." In Plato's Dialectical Ethics, tr. R.M. Wallace, 83-89. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1991. Gagarin, Michael. "Probability and Persuasion: Plato and Early Greek Rhetoric." In Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Action, ed. Ian Worthington, 46-68. London: Routledge, 1994. Gaiser, K. "Das Gold der Weisheit: Zum Gebet des Philosophen am SchluB des Phaidros." Rheinisches Museum fur Philologie 132(1989): 105-40. Garcia Novo, E. "The Way to Wisdom in Plato's Phaedrus and in the Hippocratic Corpus." In Hippocrates in Context, ed. PJ. Van Der Eijk, 287-94. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Gardeya, Peter. Platons Phaidros: Interpretation und Bibliographie. Wiirzburg: Konigshausen und Neumann, 1998. Gerson, Lloyd. "A Note on Tripartition and Immortality in Plato." Apeiron 20 (1987): 81-96. . "The Concept in Platonism." In Traditions ofPlatonism, ed. John J. Cleary, 65-80. Aldershot: Ashgate, 1999. Gilbert, K. and H. Kuhn. History of Esthetics. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1953. Gill, Christopher. "Plato and the Education of Character." Archivfiir die Geschichte der Philosophie 67 (1985): 1-26. . "Ancient Psychotherapy." Journal of the History of Ideas 46 (1985): 307-25. , ed. The Person and the Human Mind. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990. Gill, Mary. "Plato's Phaedrus and the Method of Hippocrates." The Modern Schoolman 80 (2003): 295-314. Goldschmidt, Victor. Les dialogues de Platon. 2d ed. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1963.
213
Gould, Thomas. Platonic Love. London: Routledge and Keegan Paul, 1963. Griswold, Charles. Self-Knowledge in Plato's Phaedrus. 2d ed. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996. Grube, G.M.A. "Plato's Theory of Beauty." Monist 37 (1927): 269-88. . Plato's Thought. London: Metheuen, 1935. Reprint, with a new introduction and bibliography by DJ. Zeyl, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1980. Gulley, Norman. Plato's Theory of Knowledge. London: Methuen, 1962. Gurley, Jennifer. "Platonic Paideia." Philosophy and Literature 23 (1999): 351-77. Guthrie, W.K.C. Orpheus and Greek Religion. New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1935. . "Plato's Views on the Nature of the Soul." In Recherches sur la tradition platonicienne, 3-22. Entretiens sur l'Antiquite Classique, vol. 3. Vandceuvres, Geneva: Foundation Hardt, 1955. —:
. A History of Greek Philosophy. 6 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 196276. . "Twentieth-Century Approaches to Plato." In Lectures in Memory of Louise Taft Semple. First Series, 1961-1965, ed. D.W. Bradeen, et al., 231-60. University of Cincinnati Classical Studies, vol. 1. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1967. . The Sophists. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971. . Socrates. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971. . "Rhetoric and Philosophy; The Unity of the Phaedrus." Paideia 5 [Special Issue] (1976): 117-24.
Hadot, Pierre. Philosophy as a Way of Life: Tr. M. Chase. Oxford: Blackwell, 1995.
Hall, Robert W. "TTXH as Differentiated Unity in the Philosophy of Plato." Phronesis 8 (1963): 63-82.
214
Halliwell, Stephen. "The Importance of Plato and Aristotle for Aesthetics." Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy 5 (1989): 321—48. . "Philosophy and Rhetoric." In Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Action, ed. I. Worthington, 222-43. London: Routledge, 1994. Halperin, David M. One Hundred Years of Homosexuality. London: Routledge, 1990. Harrison, E.L. "Was Gorgias a Sophist?" Phoenix 18 (1964): 183-92. Heath, Malcolm. Unity in Greek Poetics. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989. . "The Unity of Plato's Phaedrus." Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 7 (1989): 151-91. Hegel, G.W.F. Lectures on the History of Philosophy. Tr. Haldane and Simson. Lincoln and London: University of Nebraska Press, 1995. Heidegger, Martin. Plato's Sophist. Tr. Rojcewitcz and Schuwer. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997. Heidlebaugh, N.J. Judgment, Rhetoric, and the Problem of Incommensurability. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 2001. Heitsch, Ernst. Platon iiber die rechte Art zu reden und zu schreiben. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1987. Helmbold, W.C., and W.B. Holther. "The Unity of the Phaedrus" University of California Publications in Classical Philology 14 (1952): 387-417. Helmig, Christoph. "What Is the Systematic Place of Abstraction and Concept Formation in Plato's Philosophy? Ancient and Modern Readings of Phaedrus 249b-c." In Platonic Ideas and Concept Formation in Ancient and Medieval Thought, ed. G. Van Riel, C. Mace, and L. Van Campe, 83-97. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2004. Henderson, Jeffrey. The Maculate Muse. 2d ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Herter, Hans. "The Problematic Mention of Hippocrates in Plato's Phaedrus." Illinois Classical Studies 1 (1976): 22-42. 215
Hesk, J. Deception and Democracy in Classical Athens. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000. Hoerber, R.G. "Love or Rhetoric in Plato's Phaedrus." Classical Bulletin 34 (1958): 33. Howland, J. "Re-Reading Plato: The Problem of Platonic Chronology." Phoenix 45 (1991): 189-214. Howland, R.L. "The Attack on Isocrates in the Phaedrus." In Plato: True and Sophistic Rhetoric, ed. K.V. Erickson, 265-80. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1979. Original, Classical Quarterly 31 (1937): 151-59. Hudson-Williams, H.L. Three Systems of Education: Some Reflections on the Implications of Plato's Phaedrus. Oxford: The University Press, 1954. Hutchinson, D.S. "Doctrines of the Mean and the Debate Concerning Skills in FourthCentury Medicine, Rhetoric, and Ethics." Apeiron 21 (1988): 17-52. Ijsseling, Samuel. Rhetoric and Philosophy in Conflict: An Historical Survey. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1976. Irwin, Terence. Plato's Moral Theory. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977. . Plato's Ethics. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995. Jaeger, Werner. Paideia: The Ideals of Greek Culture. 3 vols. Tr. Gilbert Highet. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1939-44; Oxford Paperback, 1986. Janaway, Christopher. Images of Excellence: Plato's Critique of the Arts. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995. Jarrett, James, ed. The Educational Theories of the Sophists. New York: Columbia University Teachers College Press, 1969. Joly, Robert. "La question hippocratique et le temoignage du Phedre" Revue des Etudes Grecques 74 (1961): 69-92. . "Platon et la medecine," Bulletin de VAssociation Guillaume Bude (1961), 435-51. 216
Jones, W.H.S. Philosophy and Medicine in Ancient Greece. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1946. Jouanna, Jacques. "La Collection hippocratique et Platon (Phedre, 269c-272a)." Revue des Etudes Grecques 90 (1977): 15-28. . Hippocrates. Tr. M.B. DeBevoise. Baltimore and London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999. Kant, Immanuel. Critique of Pure Reason. Tr. N.K.. Smith. New York: Macmillan, 1929. Kelley, W.G. "Rhetoric as Seduction." In Plato: True and Sophistic Rhetoric, ed. K.V. Erickson, 313-24. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1979. Original, Philosophy and Rhetoric 6 (1975): 69-80. Kennedy, George A. The Art of Persuasion in Greece. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963. , ed. The Cambridge History of Literary Criticism. Vol. 1. Cambridge: The University Press, 1989. Kenney, A.J.P. "Mental Health in Plato's Republic." Proceedings of the British Academy 55 (1969): 229-53. Kesters, H. "De Ware Redekunst volgens Platoons Phaidros." Tijdschrift voor Filosofie 26 (1964): 33-67. Kerferd, G.B. The Sophistic Movement. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981. , ed. The Sophists and Their Legacy. Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1981. Kimball, B.A. Orators and Philosophers: A History of the Ideal Liberal Education. New York: Columbia University Teachers College Press, 1986. Klein, Jacob. A Commentary on Plato's Meno. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1965. Reprint, Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1989.
217
Kobusch, T., ed. Platon: Seine Dialoge in der Sicht neuer Forschungen. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1996. Konstan, David, and Elisabeth Young-Bruehl. "Eriximachus' Speech in the Symposium." Apeiron 16 (1982): 4 0 ^ 6 . Kosman, L.A. "Platonic Love." In Facets of Plato's Philosophy, ed. W.H. Werkmeister, 5369. Assen: Van Gorcum, 1976. Kucharski, Paul. "La methode d'Hippocrate dans le Phedre." Revue des Etudes Grecques 52 (1939): 301-57. . Les chemins du savoir dans les derniers dialogues de Platon. Paris: PUF: 1949. -. "La rhetorique dans le Gorgias et le Phedre." Revue des Etudes Grecques 74 (1961): 371-406. Kiihn, Wilfried. La fin du Phedre de Platon: Critique de la rhetorique et de I 'ecriture. Firenze: Leo S. Olschki Editore, 2000. Lafrance, Yvon. La theorie platonicienne de la doxa. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1981. Lain Entralgo, Pedro. The Therapy of the Word in Classical Antiquity. Tr. LJ. Rather and J.M. Sharp. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970. Laserre, Francois. "'Epwuxol Xoyoi." Museum Helveticum 1 (1944): 169-78. Lebeck, Anne. "The Central Myth of Plato's Phaedrus." Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 13 (1972): 267-90. Lefkowitz, Mary R. "Seduction and Rape in Greek Myth." In Consent and Coercion to Sex and Marriage in Ancient and Medieval Societies, ed. A.E. Laiou, 17-37. Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library and Collection, 1993. Levinson, Ronald B. "Language, Plato, and Logic." In Essays in Ancient Greek Philosophy, ed. Anton and Kustas, 259-84. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1971. Liddell, H.G., R. Scott, and H.S. Jones. A Greek-English Lexicon, 9th ed. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1968. 218
Lidz, Joel W. "Medicine as Metaphor in Plato." Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 20 (1995): 527-41. Lloyd, A.C. "Plato's Description of Division." In Studies in Plato's Metaphysics, ed. R.E. Allen, 219-30. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1965. Lloyd, G.E.R. "The Hippocratic Question." Classical Quarterly 25 (1975): 171-92. Lombard, Jean. Platon et la medecine: Le corps affaibli et I'ame attristee. Paris: Editions L'Harmattan, 1999. Longo, Angela. "Gli scoli di Ermia e un passo controverso del Fedro di Platone (Phaedr. 269el-270c5)." Phronesis 46 (2001): 73-92. LoShan, Z. "Plato's Counsel on Education." Ch. 3 in Philosophers on Education, ed. A. Rorty. London: Routledge, 1998. Louis, Pierre. Les metaphores de Platon. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1945. Lutoslawski, Wincenty. The Origin and Growth of Plato's Logic. London, 1897. Mabbott, J. "Aristotle and theXQPISMOS of Plato." Classical Quarterly 20 (1926): 72-79. Mackenzie, MM. Plato on Punishment. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981. Mansfeld, Jaap. "Plato and the Method of Hippocrates." Greek, Roman, and Byzantine Studies 21 (1980): 341-62. Marrou, H.I. A History of Education in Antiquity. Tr. George Lamb. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1956. McComiskey, Bruce. Gorgias and the New Sophistic Rhetoric. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 2002. McGibbon, D.D. "The Fall of the Soul in Plato's Phaedrus." Classical Quarterly 14 (1964): 56-63. McNeill, John T. A History of the Cure of Souls. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1951. 219
McPherran, Mark. The Religion of Socrates. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996. Modrak, Deborah. "Philosophy of Language." In A Companion to Ancient Philosophy, ed. M.L. Gill and P. Pellegrin, 645^17. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2006. Moes, Mark. Plato's Dialogue Form and the Care of the Soul. New York: Peter Lang, 2000. . "Plato's Conception of the Relations Between Moral Philosophy and Medicine." Perspectives in Biology and Medicine 44 (2001): 353-67. Moline, J. "Plato on the Complexity of the Psyche." Archivfilr Geschichte der Philosophic 60 (1978): 1-26. Moravcsik, Julius M. "Plato's Method of Division." In Patterns in Plato's Thought, 158-80. Dordrecht: D. Reidel Publishing, 1973. . "The Anatomy of Plato's Divisions." In Exegesis and Argument, ed. Lee, Mourelatos, and Rorty, 324-48. New York: Humanities Press, 1973. . "Ancient and Modern Conceptions of Health and Medicine." The Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 1 (1976): 337-48. . "Recollecting the Theory of Forms." In Facets of Plato's Philosophy, ed. W.H. Werkmeister, 1-20. Assen: Van Gorcum, 1976. Moravcsik, L, and P. Temko, eds. Plato on Beauty, Wisdom, and the Arts. Totowa, N.J.: Rowman and Littlefield, 1982. Morrison, J.S. "The Truth of Antiphon." Phronesis 8 (1963): 35-49. Morrow, Glenn R. "Plato's Conception of Persuasion." In Plato: True and Sophistic Rhetoric, ed. K.V. Erickson, 339-54. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1979. Original, The Philosophical Review 62 (1953): 234-50.
. Plato's Cretan City. 2d ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993.
220
Muir, D.P.E. "Friendship in Education and the Desire for the Good: an Interpretation of Plato's Phaedrus." Educational Philosophy and Theory 32 (2000): 233^47. Muller, Gustav E. "Unity of the Phaedrus" [I and II]. The Classical Bulletin 33 (1957): 5053; 63-65. . "The Unity of the Phaidros." Sophia 26 (1958): 25-34. Murray, James S. "Disputation, Deception, and Dialectic: Plato on the True Rhetoric (Phaedrus 261-266)." Philosophy and Rhetoric 21 (1988): 279-89. Natorp, Paul. Plato's Theory of Ideas. Tr. V. Politis and J. Connolly. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 2004. Neel, Jasper. Plato, Derrida, and Writing. Carbondale and Edwardsville: Southern Illinois University Press, 1988. Nehamas, Alexander. "Commentary on Halliwell." Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy 5 (1989): 349-57. Nettleship, Richard L. Lectures on the Republic of Plato. Ed. G.R. Benson. London and New York: Macmillan, 1898. Nichols, James H. "Platonic Reflections on Philosophic Education." In Political Philosophy and the Human Soul, ed. M. Palmer and T. Pangle, 109-20. Lanham, Md.: Rowman and Littlefield, 1995. Nicholson, Graeme. "The Ontology of Plato's Phaedrus" Dionysius 14 (1998): 9-28. . Plato's Phaedrus: The Philosophy of Love. West Lafayette: Purdue University Press, 1999. . "The Discourses of the Phaedrus." In Retracing the Platonic Text, ed. J. Russon and J. Sallis, 19-31. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 2000. Noel, Marie-Pierre. "La persuasion chez Gorgias." In La rhetorique grecque: Actes du colloque Octave Navarre, ed. J.-M. Galy and A. Thivel, 89-106. Publications de la Faculte des Lettres, Arts, et Sciences Humaines de Nice, nouvelle serie, no. 19. Paris: C.I.D. Diffusion, 1994. 221
North, Helen. Sophrosyne. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, .1966. Novotny, Frantisek. The Postumous Life of Plato. Tr. F. Svoboda and J.L. Barton. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1977. Nuno Montes, Juan A. La dialectica platonica: Su desarollo en relation con la teoria de las formas. Caracas: Instituto de Filosofia, Facultad de Humanidades y Education, Universidad Central de Venezuela, 1962. Nussbaum, Martha. The Fragility of Goodness. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986. . The Therapy of Desire. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994. Oates, Whitney J. Plato's View of Art. New York: Charles Scribner's and Sons, 1972. Oleson, C. "Nihilism and the Eclipse of Beauty: Plato's Aesthetic Ontology." Ph.D. Diss., The Catholic University of America, 2000. Osborne, C. "'No' Means 'Yes': The Seduction of the Word in Plato's Phaedrus." Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy 15 (1999): 263-81. O'Sullivan, Neil. "Plato and he kaloumene rhetorilce." Mnemosyne 46 (1993): 87-89. Owen, G.E.L. "The Place of the Timaeus in Plato's Dialogues." The Classical Quarterly N.S. 3 (1953): 79-95. Reprinted in Studies in Plato's Metaphysics, ed. R.E. Allen, 313-38. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1965. Paisse, Jean-Marie. "La metaphysique de l'ame humain dans le Phedre de Platon." Bulletin de VAssociation Guillaume Bude (1972), 469-78. Partee, Morriss Henry. Plato's Poetics: The Authority of Beauty. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press, 1981. Philip, James A. "Platonic Diairesis." Transactions of the American Philological
Association
97 (1966): 335-58. Pieper, Josef. Enthusiasm and Divine Madness: On the Platonic Dialogue Phaedrus. Tr. R. Winston and C. Winston. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1964. 222
Plass, Paul. "'Play' and Philosophic Detachment in Plato." Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 98 (1967): 343-64. . "The Unity of the Phaedrus." In Plato: True and Sophistic Rhetoric, ed. K.V. Erickson, 193-221. Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1979. Original, Symbolae Osloenses 43 (1968): 7-38. Pollitt, Jerome J. The Ancient View of Greek Art: Criticism, History, and Terminology. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1974. Poulakos, John. Sophistical Rhetoric in Classical Greece. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1995. Poulakos, Takis. Speaking for the Polls: Isocrates' Rhetorical Education. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1997. Pradeau, Jean-Francois. "Le forme e le realta intellegibili. L'uso platonico del termine EIAOS." In Eidos - Idea: Platone, Aristotele, e la tradizione platonica, ed. F. Fronterotta and W. Leszl, 75-89. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 2005. Press, Gerald. "The State of the Question in the Study of Plato." The Southern Journal of Philosophy 34 (1996): 507-32. Price, A.W. Love and Friendship in Plato and Aristotle. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997. Randall, J. Plato: Dramatist of the Life of Reason. New York: Columbia University Press, 1970. Reale, Giovanni. Toward a New Interpretation of Plato. Tr. J. Catan and R. Davies. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1997. Reed, N.H. "Plato, Phaedrus 245d-e." Classical Review 24 (1974): 5-6. Reiman, Jeffrey. "Justice, Civilization, and the Death Penalty." Ethics and Public Affairs 14 (1985): 115-48. Rich, A.N.M. "The Platonic Ideas as the Thoughts of God." Mnemosyne 1 (1954): 123-33.
223
Riedweg, C. Mysterienterminologie bei Platon, Philon undKlemens von Alexandrien. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1987. Rinon, Yoan. "The Rhetoric of Jacques Derrida II: PhaedrusT Review of Metaphysics 46 (1993): 537-58. Ritter, C. The Essence of Plato's Philosophy. Tr. A. Alles. London: Allen & Unwin, 1933. Robin, Leon. Theorie platonicienne de I'amour. Paris: Felix Alcan, 1933. . "Notice." In Phedre, VII-CCV. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1995. . Platon. Paris: Librairie Felix Alcan, 1938. Robinson, John M. "On Gorgias." In Exegesis and Argument, ed. Lee, Mourelatos, and Rorty, 49-60. New York: Humanities Press, 1973. Robinson, Richard. Plato's Earlier Dialectic. 2d ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1953. Robinson, T.M. Plato's Psychology. 2d ed. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1995. . "The Argument for Immortality in Plato's Phaedrus." Essays in Ancient Greek Philosophy, 345-53. Albany: SUNY, 1971. Roochnik, David. Of Art and Wisdom. University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996. Rosen, Stanley. Plato's Symposium. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968. . "The Nonlover in Plato's Phaedrus" In The Quarrel Between Philosophy and Poetry: Studies in Ancient Thought, 78-90. London: Routledge, 1993. . "Socrates as Concealed Lover." In The Quarrel Between Philosophy and Poetry: Studies in Ancient Thought, 91-101. London: Routledge, 1993. Rosenmeyer, Thomas G. "Gorgias, Aeschylus, and Apate." The American Journal of Philology, 76 (1955): 225-60. . "Plato's Prayer to Pan." Hermes 90 (1962): 34—44. 224
Ross, W.D. Aristotle: A Complete Exposition of His Works and Thought. London: Metheuen & Co., 1923. Reprint, Cleveland: Meridian Books, 1959. . Plato's Theory of Ideas. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1951. Rowe, CJ. "The Argument and Structure of Plato's Phaedrus." Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society 32 (1986): 106-25. . "Reply." Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 7 (1989): 151-91. . Plato. 2d ed. London: Bristol Classical Press, 2003. Runciman, W.G. Plato's Later Epistemology. Cambridge: The University Press, 1962. Rutherford, R.B. The Art of Plato. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1995. Ryle, Gilbert. Plato's Progress. Cambridge: The University Press, 1966. Sallis, John. Being and Logos: Reading the Platonic Dialogues, 3d ed. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1996. Santa Cruz, Maria Isabel. "Division y dialectica en el Fedro." Revista Latinoamericana de Filosofia 16 (1990): 149-64. Santas, Gerasimos. "Passionate Platonic Love in the Phaedrus." Ancient Philosophy 2 (1982): 106-14. Saunders, Trevor J. Plato's Penal Code. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991. Scarry, Elaine. On Beauty and Being Just. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999. Schiappa, Edward. The Beginnings of Rhetorical Theory in Classical Greece. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999. Schipper, Edith W. Forms in Plato's Later Dialogues. The Hague: Martinus Hijhoff, 1965. Schul, P.-M. "Platon et la medecine." Revue des Etudes Grecques 73 (1960): 73-79.
225
Scolnicov, Samuel. Plato's Metaphysics of Education. London and New York: Routledge, 1988. Scott, Dominic. "Platonic Anamnesis Revisited." Classical Quarterly 37 (1987): 346-66. Scott, Gary A. Plato's Socrates as Educator. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2000. Scruton, Roger. Sexual Desire: A Philosophical Investigation. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1986. Segal, Charles P. "Gorgias and the Psychology of the Logos." Harvard Studies in Classical Philology, 66 (1962): 99-155. Seve, Bernard. Phedre de Platon. Paris: Editions Pedagogie Moderne, 1980. Shapiro, H.A. "Eros in Love: Pederasty and Pornography in Greece." In Pornography and Representation in Greece and Rome, ed. A. Richlin, 53-72. New York: Oxford University Press, 1992. Shorey, Paul. "De Platonis idearum doctrina atque mentis humanae notionibus commentatio." Ph.D. Dissertation, Munich, 1884. Translated by R.S.W. Hawtrey as "A Dissertation on Plato's Theory of Forms and on the Concepts of the Human Mind," Ancient Philosophy 2 (1982): 1-59. . The Unity of Plato's Thought. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1903. . "Oucrt-g, MEXETY], 'E7uaTY]fXY]." Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 40 (1909): 185-201. . What Plato Said. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1933. . "On the Erotikos of Lysias in Plato's Phaedrus." Classical Philology 28 (1933): 131-32. Simon, Bennett. Mind and Madness in Ancient Greece. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1978. Sinaiko, Herman L. Love, Knowledge, and Discourse in Plato: Dialogue and Dialectic in Phaedrus, Republic, Parmenides. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1965.
226
Skemp, J.B. The Theory of Motion in Plato's Later Dialogues. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1942. Smith, Wesley D. The Hippocratic Tradition. Ithaca : Cornell University Press, 1979. Smyth, Herbert Weir. Greek Grammar. Ed. G.M. Messing. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1984. Sokolowski, Robert. "Making Distinctions." Review of Metaphysics 32 (1979): 639-76. Solmsen, Friedrich. Die Entwicklung der aristotelischen Logic und Rhetorik. Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1929. Sprague, Rosamond. The Older Sophists. Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1972. Reprint, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 2001. . "Platonic Unitarianism." Classical Philology 71 (1976): 109-12. Stalley, R.F. "Punishment and the Physiology of the Timaeus" The Classical Quarterly 46 (1996): 357-70. Steckerl, Fritz. "Plato, Hippocrates, and the Menon Papyrus" Classical Philology 40 (1945): 166-80. Stenzel, Julius. Plato's Method of Dialectic. Tr. D J. Allan. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1940. Reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1973. Stewart, Donald C. "The Continuing Relevance of Plato's Phaedrus." In Essays on Classical Rhetoric and Modern Discourse, ed. R. Connors, L. Ede, and A. Lunsford, 115-126. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1984. Stewart, John Alexander. Plato's Doctrine of Ideas. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1909. Reprint, New York: Russell & Russell, 1964. Straeter, Th. Die Idee des Schonen in der platonischen Philosophie. Bonn: Marcus, 1861. Strauss, Leo. The City and Man. Charlottesville: The University Press of Virginia, 1964. Reprint, Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1978.
227
Svenbro, Jesper. Phrasikleia: An Anthropology of Reading in Ancient Greece. Tr. J. Lloyd. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1993. Szlezak, Thomas A. Reading Plato. Tr. Graham Zanker. London: Routledge, 1999. Tanner, R.G. "Plato's Phaedrus: An Educational Manifesto?" In Understanding the Phaedrus: Proceedings of the II Symposium Platonicum, ed. Livio Rossetti, 218-21. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag, 1992. Tatarkiewicz, Wladyslaw. History of Aesthetics. Vol. I: Ancient Aesthetics. The Hague & Paris: Mouton, 1970. Taylor, Alfred Edward. Varia Socratica: First Series. St. Andrew's University Publications No. 9. Oxford: James Parker & Co., 1911. . Plato: The Man and His Work. 4th ed. London: Metheuen and Co., 1937. Reprint, Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, Inc., 2001. Teloh, Henry. Socratic Education in Plato's Early Dialogues. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1986. Teske, Roland J. "Plato's Later Dialectic." The Modern Schoolman 38 (1961): 171-201. Thivel, Antoine. "Platon et la medecine." In La medecine grecque antique, ed. J. Jouanna and J. Leclant, 95-108. Paris: Diffusion de Boccard, 2004. Thornton, B. Eros: The Myth of Ancient Greek Sexuality. Boulder: Westview Press, 1997. Tigerstedt, E.N. Plato's Idea of Poetical Inspiration. Commentationes Humanarum Litterarum 44:2. Helsinki: Societas Scientiarum Fennica, 1969. . The Decline and Fall of the Neoplatonic Interpretation of Plato. Commentationes Humanarum Litterarum 52. Helsinki: Societas Scientiarum Fennica, 1974. . Interpreting Plato. Acta Universitatis Stockholmiensis: Stockholm Studies in the
History of Literature 17. Uppsala: Almquist & Wiksell, 1977. Timmerman, David M. "Isocrates' Competing Conceptualization of Philosophy." Philosophy and Rhetoric 31 (1998): 145-59. 228
Tomin, Julius. "Joining the Beginning to the End." In The Republic and the Laws of Plato: Proceedings of the First Symposium Platonicum Pragense, ed. A. Havlicek and F. Karfik, 201-16. Prague: OIKOYMENH, 1998. Tracy, Theodore J. Physiological Theory and the Doctrine of the Mean in Plato and Aristotle. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1969. Travlos, John. Pictorial Dictionary of Ancient Athens. New York: Praeger, 1971. Trevaskis, J.R. "Division and its Relation to Dialectic and Ontology in Plato." Phronesis 12 (1967): 118-29. Tsekourakis, D. "Plato's Phaedrus and the Holistic Viewpoint in Hippocrates' Therapeutics." Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies 38 (1991-1993): 162-73. Untersteiner, Mario. The Sophists, tr. Kathleen Freeman. Oxford: Blackwell, 1954. Vanhoutte, Maurice. La methode ontologique de Platon. Louvain: Editions Nauwelaerts, 1956. Van Ophuijsen, Johannes M. "The Continuity of Plato's Dialectic: An Afterword." In Plato andPlatonism, 292-313. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1999. Vegetti, Mario. La medicina in Platone. Venice: II Cardo, 1995. Verdenius, W.J. "Notes on Plato's Phaedrus" Mnemosyne 8 (1955): 265-89. . "Gorgias' Doctrine of Deception." In The Sophists and Their Legacy, ed. G.B. Kerferd, 116-28. Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1981. —. "Another Note on Plato, Phaedrus 270 AC." Mnemosyne 35 (1982): 333-34. Vlastos, Gregory. "The Individual as an Object of Love in Plato." In Platonic Studies. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981. Voelke, Andre-Jean. La philosophic comme therapie de I'dme. Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1993.
229
Warry, J.G. Greek Aesthetic Theory. London: Metheuen & Co. Ltd., 1962. Watson, Gerard. Plato's Unwritten Teaching. Dublin: Talbot Press, 1973. Weaver, R.M. "The Phaedrus and the Nature of Rhetoric." In The Ethics of Rhetoric, 3-26. Chicago: Regnery, 1953. Repr. in Language is Sermonic, ed. Johannesen, Strickland, and Eubanks, 57-83. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1970. Wedin, Michael V. "Collection and Division in the Phaedrus and Statesman." Philosophical Inquiry 12(1990): 1-21. Wehrli, Fritz. "Der Artzvergleich bei Platon." Museum Helveticum 8 (1951): 177-84. Welton, W.A., ed., Plato's Forms: Varieties of Interpretation. Lanham: Lexington Books, 2002. West, T.G., and G.S. West, eds. Four Texts on Socrates: Plato's Euthyphro, Apology, and Crito and Aristophanes' Clouds. Rev. Ed. Ithaca: Cornell Paperbacks, 1998. Whall, Mary B. "The Nature of the Soul in Plato's Phaedrus" Ph.D. diss., University of Georgia, 1993. White, David A. Rhetoric and Reality in Plato's Phaedrus. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1993. White, Nicholas P. Plato on Knowledge and Reality. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1976. Wilamowitz-Mollendorff, Ulrich von. Platon: sein Leben und seine Werke. 2 vols. 3d ed. Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1929. Winkler, John J. The Constraints of Desire: The Anthropology of Sex and Gender in Ancient Greece. New York: Routledge, 1990. Winnington-Ingram, R.P. "The Unity of the Phaedrus." Dialogos 1 (1994): 6-20.
Wisse, Jakob. "De Oratore: Rhetoric, Philosophy, and the Making of the Ideal Orator." In Brill's Companion to Cicero, ed. J.M. May, 375-400. Leiden: Brill, 2002.
230
Wippel, John F. Thomas Aquinas on the Divine Ideas. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1993. Wolfson, H.A. "The Logos and the Platonic Ideas." In The Philosophy of the Church Fathers, v.l, 2d ed., 257-86. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1964. Woodruff, Paul. "Paideia and Good Judgment." In Philosophy of Education: The Proceedings of the Twentieth World Congress of Philosophy, ed. David M. Steiner, vol. 3. Bowling Green: Philosophy Documentation Center, 1999. Worthington, Ian, ed. Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Action. London and New York: Routledge, 1994. Wycherly, R.E. "The Scene of Plato's Phaedrus." Phoenix 17 (1963): 88-98. Wyller, Egil A. "Plato's Concept of Rhetoric in the Phaedrus and Its Tradition in Antiquity." Symbolae Osloenses 66 (1991): 50-60.
231