Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo -- 28

30 August 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo – 28

Continuing with my series on Phaedo, I am using the Harold North Fowler translation published by the Loeb Classical Library.

“Now all of us, as we remarked to one another afterwards, were very uncomfortable when we heard what they said; for we had been thoroughly convinced by the previous argument, and now they seemed to be throwing us again into confusion and distrust, not only in respect to the past discussion but also with regard to any future one.  They made us fear that our judgment was worthless or that no certainty could be attained in these matters.

“Echecrates:  ‘By the gods, Phaedo, I sympathise with you; for I myself after listening to you am inclined to ask myself: “What argument shall we believe henceforth?  For the argument of Socrates was perfectly convincing, and now it has fallen into discredit.”  For the doctrine that the soul is a kind of harmony has always had (and has now) a wonderful hold upon me, and your mention of it reminded me that I had myself believed in it before.  Now I must begin over again and find another argument to convince me that when a man dies his soul does not perish with him.  So, for heaven’s sake, tell how Socrates continued the discourse, and whether he also, as you say the rest of you did, showed any uneasiness, or calmly defended his argument.  And did he defend it successfully?  Tell us everything as accurately as you can.’

“Phaedo:  ‘Echecrates, I have often wondered at Socrates, but never did I admire him more than then.  That he had an answer ready was perhaps to be expected; but what astonished me more about him was, first, the pleasant, gentle, and respectful manner in which he listened to the young men’s criticisms, secondly, his quick sense of the effect their words had upon us, and lastly the skill with which he cured us and, as it were, recalled us from our flight and defeat and made us face about and follow him and join in his examination of the argument.’

“Echecrates:  ‘How did he do it?’

“Phaedo:  ‘I will tell you.  I was sitting at his right hand on a low stool beside his couch, and his seat was a good deal higher than mine.  He stroked my head and gathered the hair on the back of my neck into his hand – he had a habit of playing with my hair on occasion – and said, “Tomorrow, perhaps, Phaedo, you will cut off this beautiful hair.”’

“’I suppose so, Socrates,’ said I.

“’Not if you take my advice.’

“’ What shall I do then?’ I asked.

“’You will cut it off today, and I will cut mine, if our argument dies and we cannot bring it to life again.  If I were you and the argument escaped me, I would take an oath, like the Argives, not to let my hair grow until I had renewed the fight and won a victory over the argument of Simmias and Cebes.’

“’But,’ I replied, ‘they say that even Heracles is not a match for two.’

“’Well,’ said he, ‘call me to help you, as your Iolaus, while there is still light.’

“’I call you to help, then,’ said I, ‘not as Heracles calling Iolaus, but as Iolaus calling Heracles.’

“’That is all one,’ said he.  ‘But first let us guard against a danger.’

“’Of what sort?’ I asked.

“’The danger of becoming misologists or haters of argument,’ said he, ‘as people become misanthropists or haters of man; for no worse evil can happen to a man than to hate argument.  Misology and misanthropy arise from similar causes.  For misanthropy arises from trusting someone implicitly without sufficient knowledge.  You think the man is perfectly true and sound and trustworthy, and afterwards you find him base and false.  Then you have the same experience with another person.  By the time this has happened to a man a good many times, especially if it happens among those whom he might regard as his nearest and dearest friends, he ends by being in continual quarrels and by hating everybody and thinking there is nothing sound in anyone at all.  Have you not noticed this?’

“’Certainly,’ said I.

“’Well,’ he went on, ‘is it not disgraceful, and is it not plain that such a man undertakes to consort with men when he has no knowledge of human nature?  For if he had knowledge when he dealt with them, he would think that the good and the bad are both very few and those between the two are very many, for that is the case.’

“’What do you mean?’

“’I mean just what I might say about the large and small.  Do you think there is anything more unusual than to find a very large or a very small man, or dog, or other creature, or again, one that is very quick or slow, very ugly or beautiful, very black or white?  Have you not noticed that the extremes in all these instances are rare and few, and the examples between the extremes are very many?’

“’To be sure,’ said I.

“’And don’t you think,’ said he, ‘that if there were to be a competition in rascality, those who excelled would be very few in that also?’

“’Very likely,’ I replied.

“’Very, very likely,’ he said.  ‘But it is not in that respect that arguments are like men; I was merely following your lead in discussing that.  The similarity lies in this: when a man without proper knowledge concerning arguments has confidence in the truth of an argument and afterwards thinks that it is false, whether it really is so or not, and this happens again and again; then you know, those men especially who have spent their time in disputation come to believe that they are the wisest of men and that they alone have discovered that there is nothing sound or sure in anything, whether argument or anything else, but all things go up and down, like the tide in the Euripus, and nothing is stable for any length of time.’

“’Certainly,’ I said, ‘that is very true.’

“’Then, Phaedo,’ he said, ‘if there is any system of argument which is true and sure and can be learned, it would be a sad thing if a man, because he has met with some of those arguments which seem to be sometimes true and sometimes false, should then not blame himself or his own lack of skill, but should end, in his vexation, by throwing the blame gladly upon the arguments and should hate and revile them all the rest of his life, and be deprived of the truth and knowledge of reality.’

“’Yes, by Zeus,’ I said, ‘it would be sad.’

“’First, then,’ said he, ‘let us be on our guard against this, and let us not admit into our souls the notion that there is no soundness in arguments at all.  Let us far rather assume that we ourselves are not yet in sound condition and that we must strive manfully and eagerly to become so, you and the others for the sake of all your future life, and I because of my impending death; for I fear that I am not just now in a philosophical frame of mind as regards this particular question, but am contentious, like quite uncultured persons.  For when they argue about anything, they do not care what the truth is in the matters they are discussing, but are eager only to make their own views seem true to their hearers.  And I fancy I differ from them just now only to this extent: I shall not be eager to make what I say seem true to my hearers, except as a secondary matter, but shall be very eager to make myself believe it.  For see, my friend, how selfish my attitude is.  If what I say is true, I am the gainer by believing it; and if there be nothing for me after death, at any rate I shall not be burdensome to my friends by my lamentations in these last moments.  And this ignorance of mine will not last, for that would be an evil, but will soon end.  So,’ he said, ‘Simmias and Cebes, I approach the argument with my mind thus prepared.  But you, if you do as I ask, will give little thought to Socrates and much more to the truth; and if you think what I say is true, agree to it, and if not, oppose me with every argument you can muster, that I may not in my eagerness deceive myself and you alike and go away, like a bee, leaving my sting sticking in you.’

(Ibid, Fowler, pages 305-315, 88C-91C)

1.  This part of the dialogue is a digression, as opposed to a bridge, on the topic of misology, which means being repelled by arguing, and argument, as such.  Just as a misanthrope views humanity negatively, usually for personal and/or emotional reasons, a misologist views philosophical discussion, argument, investigation as inherently negative. 

2.  This digression is brought forward by Phaedo and Echecrates, whom we haven’t heard from since the opening of the dialogue.  I suspect more than a few readers might have forgotten that everything presented is being narrated by Phaedo to Echecrates.  Part of the purpose of this passage is to remind the reader of the context of the dialogue.

3.  The frustration that is being depicted is that people both at the jail, and Phaedo and Echecrates, have the experience of finding the arguments of Socrates convincing, only to have that conviction undermined by Cebes and Simmias who seem to both be keen to bring some kind of critique after each of Socrates’s presentations (logoi). 

This is not an unusual reaction to philosophical discussions.  I recall that when I took an Introductory course in Philosophy, that was long ago, many people were openly frustrated by the alternatives that were being presented on various issues, such as the problem of universals.  For someone new to philosophy it is difficult to find a way of measuring and sifting through these various alternatives.  Doing so is intense intellectual work and most people are not prepared for these kinds of investigations.

4.  Socrates depicts the situation regarding a man who thought a particular argument was true, and then for some reason decides it is false (whether or not that is really the case) has the tendency to think of themselves as particularly wise and insightful and come to the conclusion that there is nothing that is really true or false and that the whole process of investigating philosophical claims is fruitless.  It is remarkable how widespread that feeling is today; in fact at this time it has manifested in some ideologies as an intense opposition to discussion at all, a dramatic example of misology.

5.  Socrates points out that when many people argue they do not care what the truth is, they are ‘contentious’ because they want to win the argument but they are not concerned with finding the truth.  This has always been a difficulty in philosophy.  In the context of Plato’s Dialogues this is often brought up in the context of the Sophists who taught their students oratorical skills of persuasion that moved an audience but had no relation to the truth.  We today are almost drowned in these kinds of techniques by our exposure to advertising and political discussions that are focused completely on a faction retaining or gaining power, not on the truth of a situation.  During war these kinds of techniques are used extensively by both sides resulting in the well-known, and well-studied, ‘fog of war.’  It is not surprising, given this context, that many people become misologists.

6.  Philosophical discussion is, therefore, something unusual; it is discussion whose purpose is to find the truth, align with truth, draw out the implications of the truth, and so forth.  This assumes that there is such a thing as truth, a view that many in modernity reject.

7.  Having a genuine philosophical discussion requires training in the virtues, particularly in temperance, or sophrosyne.  This is a necessary virtue for philosophical discussion because, in a discussion between person A and B, it doesn’t matter, from a philosophical perspective, whether A’s position turns out to be true, or B’s position turns out to be true, or whether both are wrong, or both had partial understandings.  If A is a philosopher and has cultivated temperance, he will feel exactly the same if his analysis is correct, or if B’s analysis turns out to be correct.  Person A will feel exactly the same, that is to say he will be delighted that the truth has been discovered. 

This means developing a kind of contemplative distance, or non-attachment, to one’s own ideas so that there is space in the mind for other possibilities.

8.  In contrast, most people who enter into discussions are in pursuit of other goals than the truth.  These other goals must be abandoned in order to have a genuine philosophical discussion.  I refer to these as the ‘five abandonings’: they are to abandon fame, abandon status, abandon wealth, abandon power, and abandon winning.  When temperance, or equanimity, are cultivated it is possible to abandon these five hindrances to the truth and have a philosophical discussion.  When this is accomplished it is a beautiful thing; there is a kind of energetic exchange that takes place between those engaged in such philosophical discourse.  It is a kind of pleasure, but it is not a sensory pleasure; it is almost as if the participants are in touch with the divine, and maybe they are.  Amazing things can happen in this context; for example, unexpected insights may appear in this kind of exchange, and alternative solutions that neither participant held may emerge, seemingly on their own.

8.1  If someone pursues some other goal when having a discussion, then they will measure the success of the discussion by the standards of that goal rather than whether or not the discussion moved towards the truth.  For example, if someone enters into a discussion to increase their power, then that is the standard they will use to measure the success of the discussion.  Truth as a standard falls by the wayside.

9.  When Socrates states that there is no worse destiny than to become a misologist, I think Socrates is pointing out that the result of such an attitude is to remove the possibility of the kind of philosophical discussion that emerges from the cultivation of virtue and is conducted on the basis of the five abandonings.  To cut off the possibility of this kind of interaction is to diminish the quality of one’s life, to make it duller and unnecessarily limited, it is to cut off even the possibility of the practice of virtue.

 

 

Sunday, August 27, 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo -- 27

27 August 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo – 27

“’Good,’ said Simmias.  ‘I will tell you my difficulty, and then Cebes in turn will say why he does not agree to all you have said.  I think, Socrates, as perhaps you do yourself, that it is either impossible or very difficult to acquire clear knowledge about these matters in this life.  And yet he is a weakling who does not test in every way what is said about them and persevere until he is worn out by studying them on every side.  For he must do one of two things; either he must learn or discover the truth about these matters, or if that is impossible, he must take whatever human doctrine is best and hardest to disprove and, embarking upon it as upon a raft, sail upon it through life in the midst of dangers, unless he can sail upon some stronger vessel, some divine revelation, and make his voyage more safely and securely.  And so now I am not ashamed to ask questions, since you encourage me to do so, and I shall not have to blame myself hereafter for not saying now what I think.  For, Socrates, when I examine what has been said, either alone or with Cebes, it does not seem quite satisfactory.’

“And Socrates replied: ‘Perhaps, my friend, you are right.  But tell me in what respect it is not satisfactory.’

“’In this,’ said he, ‘that one might use the same argument about harmony and a lyre with its strings.  One might say that the harmony is invisible and incorporeal, and very beautiful and divine in the well attuned lyre, but the lyre itself and its strings are bodies, and corporeal and composite and earthy and akin to that which is mortal.  Now if someone shatters the lyre or cuts and breaks the strings, what if he should maintain by the same argument you employed, that the harmony could not have perished and must still exist?  For there would be no possibility that the lyre and its strings, which are of mortal nature, still exist after the strings are broken, and the harmony, which is related and akin to the divine and the immortal, perish before that which is mortal.  He would say that the harmony must still exist somewhere, and that the wood and the strings must rot away before anything could happen to it.  And I fancy, Socrates, that it must have occurred to your own mind that we believe the soul to be something after this fashion; that our body is strung and held together by heat, cold, moisture, dryness, and the like, and the soul is a mixture and a harmony of these same elements, when they are well and properly mixed.  Now if the soul is a harmony, it is clear that when the body is too much relaxed or is too tightly strung by diseases or other ills, the soul must of necessity perish, no matter how divine it is, like other harmonies in sounds and in all the works of artists, and the remains of each body will endure a long time until they are burnt or decayed.  Now what shall we say to this argument, if anyone claims that the soul, being a mixture of the elements of the body, is the first to perish in what is called death?’

“Then Socrates, looking keenly at us, as he often used to do, smiled and said: ‘Simmias raises a fair objection.  Now if any of you is readier than I, why does he not reply to him?  For he seems to score a good point.  However, I think before replying to him we ought to hear what fault our friend Cebes finds with our argument, that we may take time to consider what to say, and then when we have heard them we can either agree with them, if they seem to strike the proper note, or, if they do not, we can proceed to argue in defence of our reasoning.  Come, Cebes,’ said he, ‘tell us what it was that troubled you.’

“’Well, I will tell you,’ said Cebes.  ‘The argument seems to me to be just where it was, and to be still open to the objection I made before.  For I do not deny that it has been very cleverly, and, if I may say so, conclusively shown that the soul existed before it entered into this bodily form, but it does not seem to me proved that it will still exist when we are dead.  I do not agree with Simmias’ objection, that the soul is not stronger and more lasting than the body, for I think it is far superior in all such respects.  “Why then, the argument might say, “do you still disbelieve, when you see that after a man dies the weaker part still exists?  Do you not think the stronger part must necessarily be preserved during the same length of time?”  Now see if my reply to this has any sense.  I think I may, like Simmias, best express myself in a figure.  It seems to me that it is much as if one should say about an old weaver who had died, that the man had not perished but was safe and sound somewhere, and should offer as a proof of this the fact that the cloak which the man had woven and used to wear was still whole and had not perished.  Then if anyone did not believe him, he would ask which lasts, longer, a man or a cloak that is in use and wear, and when the answer was given that a man lasts much longer, he should think it had been proved beyond a doubt that the man was safe, because that which was less lasting had not perished.’

“’But I do not think he is right, Simmias, and I ask you especially to notice what I say.  Anyone can understand that a man who says this is talking nonsense.  For the weaver in question wove and wore out many such cloaks and lasted longer than they, though they were many, but perished, I suppose, before the last one.  Yet a man is not feebler or weaker than a cloak on that account at all.  And I think the same figure would apply to the soul and the body and it would be quite appropriate to say in like manner about them, that the soul lasts a long time, but the body lasts a shorter time and is weaker.  And one might go on to say that each soul wears out many bodies, especially if the man lives many years.  For if the body is constantly changing and being destroyed while the man still lives, and the soul is always weaving anew that which wears out, then when the soul perishes it must necessarily have on its last garment, and this only will survive it, and when the soul has perished, then the body will at once show its natural weakness and will quickly disappear in decay.  And so we are not yet justified in feeling sure, on the strength of this argument, that our souls will still exist somewhere after we are dead.  For if one were to grant even more to a man who uses your argument, Socrates, and allow not only that our souls existed before we were born, but also that there is nothing to prevent some of them from continuing to exist and from being born and dying again many times after we are dead, because the soul is naturally so strong that it can endure repeated births, -- even allowing this, one might not grant that it does not suffer by its many births and does not finally perish altogether in one of its deaths.  But he might say that no one knows beforehand the particular death and the particular dissolution of the body which brings destruction to the soul, for none of us can perceive that.  Now if this is the case, anyone who feels confident about death has a foolish confidence, unless he can show that the soul is altogether immortal and imperishable.  Otherwise a man who is about to die must always fear that his soul will perish utterly in the impending dissolution of the body.’”

(Ibid, Fowler, pages 301-305, 86D-88B)

1.  Simmias introduces this part of the discussion by observing that the issue at hand, the nature of the soul and the question of the soul’s immortality, is very difficult and either one must discover the truth about these questions, or lean on the best theory one can find and use that best theory as a kind of raft through life.  Part of the difficulty, I think, for Simmias is that he wants a particular kind of certainty.  The description Simmias gives of our situation can be applied to very many questions in a human life, including very mundane things like what is the best exercise regime, what is the best sleeping schedule, how best to form and keep friendships, weather one should own a house or rent, and so forth.  Of course this applies to philosophical issues as well such as what are the best ethical commitments, what is the nature of being, how do we best cultivate virtue, how do we know that something is true, and so forth.  In the mundane series of questions, it does not normally disturb people that there are difficulties in responding to them; but in the realm of philosophy there is a kind of presumption that the answer should be easily accessible and discerned.  I suspect that Simmias is one of those people who subconsciously demands that philosophical investigations be accessible in a direct and plain manner; but the most significant philosophical issues are subtle; in addition they deal with what Socrates calls the ‘invisible,’ meaning the non-sensory domains. 

The thing about the Way of Philosophy is that it often takes a long time to understand what someone like Plato or Plotinus is saying, what they are recommending, and the way of life that they advocate for.  When I say ‘a long time’ I mean years, or even decades.  In my own case it has taken a lot of reading, contemplation, and very importantly, rereading, to get a sense of a secure understanding.  I don’t think I am exceptional in this regard.

2.  Socrates asks Simmias why he does not find his presentation satisfactory and Simmias responds with a remarkably modern perspective.  Basically, Simmias understands the soul as an epiphenomenon of the body, just as modern materialists see consciousness as an epiphenomenon of the body.  That is to say, the soul can be reduced to bodily components just as the mind can be reduced to bodily components. 

From a Platonist perspective the lyre is an instantiation of a form, or several forms, the basic one being Beauty as such.  Just as the number three exists before there are three apples to instantiate three, so also three remains existent, because it is a form, when the three apples rot away.  In the third hypostasis of becoming and begoning all things will vanish because this is the realm of impermanence and change.  But there could not be a lyre without the existence of the One which grants unity to all things, and there could not be a sense of a correctly tuned lyre without the form of Beauty guiding the musician. 

Lyres do not disappear when a single lyre is broken.  And people do not disappear when their body can no longer sustain life.

3.  Both Simmias and Cebes seem to be unable, at this point in their relationship with Socrates, to weave together the various approaches that Socrates has taken.  Cebes in particular seems to be unable to integrate the arguments for the soul’s after-death survival that are based on the cyclic nature of the third hypostasis; that is why Cebes can accept that the soul exists before birth but not comprehend how the full context of Socrates’s presentation also applies to the soul’s survival after death.

I’m not criticizing Cebes (or Simmias).  If I look back on my long journey on the Platonist Way I can recall also being puzzled, baffled, and bewildered at times.  Talking to Socrates about questions like this resembles talking to an advanced physicist about issues in physics when you have only a bit of understanding of the topic.  Or it is like listening to some music that comes from a culture you are unfamiliar with, that uses unfamiliar scales and intervals, and complex rhythms you have never heard before.  In such a situation the music may sound incoherent.  But if you persist, if you, perhaps, find a short passage of the music attractive, you can build on that and gradually the music will be clear and available to one’s ear. 

In a similar way, the various views (logoi) put forth by Socrates are each in themselves subtle and require engagement with them and contemplation of them.  And putting them altogether, and seeing how they work as a whole, is yet another challenge.  Fortunately, we have a record of a guide as to how all of this works, its meaning, and the ascetic practices that open the door to understanding.  That is the great gift that Socrates, and Plato, have given humanity.

 

 

Friday, August 25, 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo -- 26

25 August 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo – 26

“When Socrates had said this there was silence for a long time, and Socrates himself was apparently absorbed in what had been said, as were also most of us.  But Simmias and Cebes conversed a little with each other; and Socrates saw them and said: ‘Do you think there is any incompleteness in what has been said?  There are still many subjects for doubt and many points open to attack, if anyone cares to discuss the matter thoroughly.  If you are considering anything else, I have nothing to say; but if you are in any difficulty about these matters, do not hesitate to speak and discuss them yourselves, if you think anything better could be said on the subject, and to take me along with you in the discussion, if you think you can get on better in my company.’

“And Simmias said, ‘Socrates, I will tell you the truth.  For some time each of us has been in doubt and has been egging the other on and urging him to ask a question, because we wish to hear your answer, but hesitate to trouble you, for fear that it may be disagreeable to you in your present misfortune.’

“And when he heard this, he laughed gently and said: ‘Ah, Simmias!  I should have hard work to persuade other people that I do not regard my present situation as a misfortune, when I cannot even make you believe it, but you are afraid I am more churlish now than I used to be.  And you seem to think I am inferior in prophetic power to the swans who sing at other times also, but when they feel that they are to die, sing most and best in their joy that they are to go to the god whose servants they are.  But men, because of their own fear of death, misrepresent the swans and say that they sing for sorrow, in mourning for their own death.  They do not consider that no bird sings when it is hungry or cold or has any other trouble; no, not even the nightingale or the swallow or the hoopoe which are said to sing in lamentation.  I do not believe they sing for grief, nor do the swans; but since they are Apollo’s birds, I believe they have prophetic vision, and because they have foreknowledge of the blessings in the other world they sing and rejoice on that day more than ever before.  And I think that I am myself a fellow-servant of the swans, and am consecrated to the same God and have received from our master a gift of prophecy no whit inferior to theirs, and that I go out from life with as little sorrow as they.  So far as this is concerned, then, speak and ask whatever question you please, so long as the eleven of the Athenians permit.’”

(Ibid, Fowler, pages 293-295, 84C-85B)

1.  This is a bridge passage, a pause before moving on to the next question.  But it also contains its own insights.

2.  “Socrates apparently was absorbed in what had been said.”  I think this describes Socrates falling into a contemplative trance.  Socrates was known to do this and it is depicted in some of the dialogues such as the Symposium.  Presumably his students would have seen this before and were not disturbed by it; this is expressed by Cebes and Simmias quietly talking to each other.

3.  Socrates asks Cebes and Simmias if there is any ‘incompleteness’ in what he has said.  That’s an interesting question.  Socrates doesn’t ask them if they understand what he has said, rather he asks if they think there is any incompleteness. 

I think Socrates is aware that the kinds of questions that are being discussed ultimately cannot be definitively answered through conceptual means.  It’s not that conceptual analysis is irrelevant, it can be very helpful.  If the analysis moves someone to experience the soul and to enter into contemplation of higher hypostases, it serves a profound purpose.  But if it remains at the level of conceptual analysis it has no definitive conclusion and can go on and on, without end.  This is because we live in the realm of constant change and differentiation; endless differentiation means that you can always slice and dice a concept or an argument further.  In that sense such arguments are always incomplete.  My feeling is that Socrates is gently suggesting that Cebes and Simmias might take a different tack in trying to understand the nature of soul and the process of rebirth.

4.  One of the impressive things about the classics of Platonism is how willing its exemplars are to unpack questions that their students have.  Phaedo is a superb example of this, as are many of the other dialogues.  There is also an episode from Porphyry’s Life of Plotinus where Porphyry reports that he had questions about the way Plotinus understood the nature of soul.  Plotinus, according to Porphyry, responded to Porphyry’s questions for three days!  At least one person in the audience was annoyed by this, which Porphyry faithfully reports.  (As an aside, I suspect that it is likely that some of that discussion, or echoes of that discussion, can be found in Ennead IV.)

Another example is The Consolation of Philosophy by Boethius where the goddess Philosophy responds to all the questions of Boethius some of which require complex unpacking. 

In these examples I think that part of what the Platonist philosopher is doing is exhausting the questioning, skeptical mind so that the questioner can move forward.  If these questions remain unresponded to they act as a kind of block to the mind and that blockage acts as a barrier to entering into the actual practice of philosophy such as cultivating the virtues and ascetic purification.

5.  Socrates, with a bit of humor, compares himself to the swans who, according to Greek myth, sing when they are about to die.  The standard explanation for the swans’ singing is that they were in grief, but Socrates disagrees and says that the swans are rejoicing at their upcoming transition to the afterdeath realm.  Socrates then says that he knows this because he is ‘consecrated’ to the same God as the swans.  This would be Apollo.  Swans are sacred to Apollo and some of the biographies of Plato mention a close association that Plato has to Apollo and swans.

What I think Socrates is revealing here is that he has had a lifelong association with realities such as Apollo.  This is brought up as well in a dialogue like Phaedrus.  Socrates is letting Cebes and Simmias know that he has experience with transcendental realities, especially when Socrates falls into a trance like he does at the beginning of this part of the dialogue.

 

 

Wednesday, August 23, 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo -- 25

23 August 2023

Notes and Comments on Phaedo – 25

Continuing with my series on Phaedo, I am using the Harold North Fowler translation published by the Loeb Classical Library.

“’But I think, if when it departs from the body it (the soul – my addition) is defiled and impure, because it was always with the body and cared for it and loved it and was fascinated by it and its desires and pleasures, so that it thought nothing was true except the corporeal, which one can touch and see and drink and eat and employ in the pleasures of love, and if it is accustomed to hate and fear and avoid that which is shadowy and invisible to the eyes but is intelligible and tangible to philosophy – do you think a soul in this condition will depart pure and uncontaminated?’

“’By no means,’ said he.

“’But it will be interpenetrated, I suppose, with the corporeal which intercourse and communion with the body have made a part of its nature because the body has been its constant companion and the object of its care?’

“’Certainly.’

“’And, my friend, we must believe that the corporeal is burdensome and heavy and earthly and visible.  And such a soul is weighed down by this and is dragged back into the visible world, through fear of the invisible and of the other world, and so, as they say, it flits about the monuments and the tombs, where shadowy shapes of souls have been seen, figures of those souls which were not set free in purity but retain something of the visible; and this is why they are seen.’

“’That is likely, Socrates.’

“’It is likely, Cebes.  And it is likely that those are not the souls of the good, but those of the base, which are compelled to flit about such places as a punishment for their former evil mode of life.  And they flit about until through the desire of the corporeal which clings to them they are again imprisoned in a body.  And they are likely to be imprisoned in natures which correspond to the practices of their former life.’

“’What natures do you mean, Socrates?’

“’I mean, for example, that those who have indulged in gluttony and violence and drunkenness, and have taken no pains to avoid them, are likely to pass into the bodies of asses and other beasts of that sort.  Do you not think so?’

“’Certainly that is very likely.’

“’And those who have chosen injustice and tyranny and robbery pass into the bodies of wolves and hawks and kits.  Where else can we imagine that they go?’

“’Beyond a doubt,’ said Cebes, ‘they pass into such creatures.’

“’Then,’ said he, ‘it is clear where all the others go, each in accordance with its own habits?’

“’Yes,’ said Cebes, ‘of course.’

“’Then,’ said he, ‘the happiest of those, and those who go to the best place, are those who have practiced, by nature and habit, without philosophy or reason, the social and civil virtues which are called moderation and justice?’

“’How are these happiest?’

“’Don’t you see?  Is it not likely that they pass again into some such social and gentle species as that of bees or of wasps or ants, or into the human race again, and that worthy men spring from them?’

“’Yes.’

“’And no one who has not been a philosopher and who is not wholly pure when he departs, is allowed to enter into the communion of the gods, but only the lover of knowledge.  It is for this reason, dear Simmias and Cebes, that those who truly love wisdom refrain from all bodily desires and resist them firmly and do not give themselves up to them, not because they fear poverty or loss of property, as most men, in their love of money, do; nor is it because they fear the dishonour or disgrace of wickedness, like the lovers of honour and power, that they refrain from them.’

“’No, that would not be seemly for them, Socrates,’ said Cebes.

“’Most assuredly not,’ said he.  ‘And therefore those who care for their own souls, and do not live in service to the body, turn their backs upon all these men and do not walk in their ways, for they feel that they know not whither they are going.  They themselves believe that philosophy, with its deliverance and purification, must not be resisted, and so they turn and follow it withersoever it leads.’

“’How do they do this, Socrates?’

“’I will tell you,’ he replied.  ‘The lovers of knowledge,’ said he, ‘perceive that when philosophy first takes possession of their soul it is entirely fastened and welded to the body and is compelled to regard realities through the body as through prison bars, not with its own unhindered vision, and is wallowing in utter ignorance.  And philosophy sees that the most dreadful thing about the imprisonment is the fact that it is caused by the lusts of the flesh, so that the prisoner is the chief assistant in his own imprisonment.  The lovers of knowledge, then, I say, perceive that philosophy, taking possession of the soul when it is in this state, encourages it gently and tries to set it free, pointing out that the eyes and the ears and the other senses are full of deceit, and urging it to withdraw from these, except in so far as their use is unavoidable, and exhorting it to collect and concentrate itself within itself, and to trust nothing except itself and its own abstract thought of abstract existence; and to believe that there is no truth in that which it sees by other means and which varies with the various objects in which it appears, since everything of that kind is visible and apprehended by the senses, whereas the soul itself sees that which is invisible and apprehended by the  mind.  Now the soul of the true philosopher believes that it must not resist this deliverance, and therefore it stands aloof from pleasures and lusts and griefs and fears, so far as it can, considering that when anyone has violent pleasures or fears or griefs or lusts he suffers from them not merely what one might think – for example, illness or loss of money spent for his lusts – but he suffers the greatest and most extreme evils and does not take it into account.’

“’What is this evil, Socrates?’ said Cebes.

“’The evil is that the soul of every man, when it is greatly pleased or pained by anything, is compelled to believe that the object which caused the emotion is very distinct and very true; but it is not.  These objects are mostly the visible ones, are they not?’

“’Certainly.’

“’And when this occurs, is not the soul most completely put in bondage by the body?’

“’How so?’

“’Because each pleasure or pain nails it as with a nail to the body and rivets it on and makes it corporal, so that it fancies the things are true which the body says are true.  For because it has the same beliefs and pleasures as the body it is compelled to adopt also the same habits and mode of life, and can never depart in purity to the other world, but mut always go away contaminated with the body; and so it sinks quickly into another body again and grows into it, like seed that is sown.  Therefore it has no part in the communion with the divine and pure and absolute.’

“’What you say, Socrates, is very true,’ said Cebes.

“’This, Cebes, is the reason why the true lovers of knowledge are temperate and brave; not the world’s reason.  Or do you disagree?’

“’Certainly not.’

“’No, for the soul of the philosopher would not reason as others do, and would not think it right that philosophy should set it free, and that then when set free it should give itself again into bondage to pleasure and pain and engage in futile toil, like Penelope unweaving the web she wove.  No, his soul believes that it must gain peace from these emotions, must follow reason and abide always in it, beholding that which is true and divine and not a matter of opinion, and making that its only food; and in this way it believes it must live, while life endures, and then at death pass on to that which is akin to itself and of like nature, and be free from human ills.  A soul which has been nurtured in this way, Simmias and Cebes, is not likely to fear that it will be torn asunder at its departure from the body and will vanish into nothingness, blown apart by the winds, and be no longer anywhere.’”

(Ibid, Fowler, pages 283 – 293, 81B-84B)

1.  There is a lot of material in this part of Phaedo about how rebirth works; such as the destiny of different types of people.  In addition, there is a lot of insight on how different types of attachment to the body, such as pleasure and pain, generate the soul’s fixation on the body, making it difficult for the soul to focus instead on that which shares the soul’s transcendental nature. 

2.  The passage begins by describing what happens to a soul that is associated with someone who has not taken the opportunity for purification and the practice of philosophy that a human life offers.  In such a situation the soul is “defiled and impure.”  This contrasts with the previous passage I posted on Phaedo which refers to the sublime afterlife experiences of those who have practiced philosophy. 

What Socrates is communicating to those around him are the benefits of withdrawing from involvement in material, sensory, existence, and attachment to the body.  Such practice shifts the philosopher’s attention to the soul and that which is akin to the soul; that which is noetic and eternal, and beyond that to the One. 

This is the basic view of Platonism and its basic practice.

3.  It is interesting that Socrates puts forth the idea that ghosts who hang around graveyards are doing so because of their intense attachment to the body during their lifetime.  Socrates regards this as a kind of ‘punishment’ for living such a life of attachment.

4.  There follows speculations by Socrates of the rebirth destiny of those who have not lived a philosophical life.  One thing I noticed is that Socrates does not seem to have the idea that successive rebirths necessarily result in better circumstances.  I do not notice any teaching along those lines.  That idea, that each rebirth results in greater understanding and therefore each rebirth is superior to the last, is widely presented today among those who adhere to rebirth.  It is often associated with the idea of an ‘evolutionary’ development of the soul to higher and higher understanding and development.

I think Socrates does not have that point of view because for Socrates the soul is inherently associated with the noetic already.  The barrier to this understanding is attachment to sensory experience, but as that attachment is reduced the association of the soul with higher hypostases becomes clear on its own.  It is kind of like having a very valuable ring on your finger but being completely unaware of its presence because of our involvement with sensory stimulation.  Now and then we may glance at the ring, but though its beauty is obvious, and that is why it is worn, we are unable to understand its real value which is that its beauty is an instantiation of noetic Beauty.

5.  Socrates notes that people’s rebirth destiny is “in accordance with their own habits.”  This is the basic way that the Platonic tradition, and Dharmic traditions as well, understand how rebirth destiny happens.

6.  “And no one who has not been a philosopher and who is not wholly pure when he departs, is allowed to enter into the communion of the gods, but only the lover of knowledge.  It is for this reason, dear Simmias and Cebes, that those who truly love wisdom refrain from all bodily desires . . .”  This statement sums up the ascetic foundations of Platonism and points to the essentially ascetic nature of the Platonic Way.

7.  At the end of Socrates unpacking the basic contrast between a philosophical life and a non-philosophical life, Socrates refers to “the greatest and most extreme evil” which most people do not take into account.  The greatest evil that Socrates refers to, he explains, is that they believe those objects that cause pleasure or pain are distinct and true.  By ‘distinct’ I think Socrates is referring to the idea that these sources of pleasure and pain are stable, when in fact they are constantly changing, constantly in a state of becoming and begoning.  By ‘true’, I take Socrates to be referring to the idea that bodily pleasure and pain are in some sense like mathematical truths, that is to say in some sense transcendental, when actually pleasure and pain are fleeting realities at best.  They are ephemeral and not a foundation for a life devoted to wisdom.

8.  Because of my many years devoted to the study and practice of Buddhism I could not help but note that in the Buddhist discourses there is a similar teaching about pleasure and pain; that the constant focus on pleasure and pain undermines things like equanimity, insight, and wisdom.  I find the parallels on this particular topic of great interest.

9.  Socrates skillfully brings this discussion to the cultivation of virtue, using temperance and bravery as his two examples.  This is a striking example of the relationship between the cultivation of virtue and the freeing of the soul from material attachments.  Here Socrates is reminding those around him of this connection and how such cultivation is linked to a good rebirth.

I understand temperance to be similar to Buddhist equanimity.  It is the ability to not be thrown off center when tempted by pleasure or repelled by pain.  It is the realization that the cyclic back and forth of bodily pleasure and pain is simply the result of having a body; accepting that reality but not getting caught up in it, or basing one’s life on it is the remedy to attachment to pleasure and pain.

Early in Phaedo Socrates introduces the nature of pleasure and pain when Socrates comments on his physical feelings after his chains have been removed by the jailer, “What a strange thing, my friends, that seems to be which men call pleasure!  How wonderfully it is related to that which seems to be its opposite, pain, in that they will not both come to a man at the same time, and yet if he pursues the one and captures it, he is generally obliged to take the other also . . . “ (Fowler, page 209, 60B)

Socrates is using his own situation of having been chained and experiencing pleasure and pain due to this, as a symbol for the human condition as whole, which is brought up at this point in the dialogue.

10.  This section ends with Socrates affirming that the soul of those who have practiced philosophy will return to that which the soul is akin to and of like nature.  That is because the soul is always dwelling in the divine; when the soul is released from material attachments it becomes aware of its true home in eternity.

 

 

 

 

Brief Notes on Various Topics -- 32

Brief Notes on Various Topics -- 32 24 June 2024 1.   A repeated item of interest found in many editions of The Consolation of Philosophy ...