Some Comments on Phaedrus

13 January 2025

Some Comments on Phaedrus

Socrates:  So what distinguishes good from bad writing?  Do we need to ask this question of Lysias or anyone else who ever did or will write anything – whether a public or a private document, poetic verse or plain prose?

Phaedrus:  You ask  if we need to?  Why else should one live, I say, if not for pleasures of this sort?  Certainly not for those you cannot feel unless you are first in pain, like most of the pleasures of the body, and which for this reason we call the pleasures of slaves.

Socrates:  It seems we clearly have the time.  Besides, I think that the cicadas, who are singing and carrying on conversations with one another in the heat of the day above our heads, are also watching us.  And if they see the two of us avoiding conversation at midday like most people, diverted by their song and, sluggish of mind, nodding off, they would have every right to laugh at us, convinced that a pair of slaves had come to their resting place to sleep like sheep gathering around the spring in the afternoon.  But if they see us in conversation, steadfastly navigating around them as if they were the Sirens, they will be very pleased and immediately give us the gift from the gods they are able to give to mortals.

Phaedrus:  What is this gift?  I don’t think I have heard of it.

Socrates:  Everyone who loves the Muses should have heard of this.  The story goes that the cicadas used to be human beings who lived before the birth of the Muses.  When the Muses were born and song was created for the first time, some of the people of that time were so overwhelmed with the pleasure of singing that they forgot to eat or drink; so they died without even realizing it.  It is from them that the race of the cicadas came into being; and, as a gift from the Muses, they have no need of nourishment once they are born.  Instead, they immediately burst into song, without food or drink, until it is time for them to die.  After they die, they go to the Muses and tell each one of them which mortals have honored her.  To Terpsichore they report those who have honored her by their devotion to the dance and thus make them dearer to her.  To Erato, they report those who honored her by dedicating themselves to the affairs of love, and so too with the other Muses, according to the activity that honors each.  And to Calliope, the oldest among them, and Urania, the next after her, who preside over the heavens and all discourse, human and divine, and sing with the sweetest voice, they report those who honor their special kind of music by leading a philosophical life.

There are many reasons, then, why we should talk and not waste our afternoon in sleep.

Phaedrus:  By all means, let’s talk.

Socrates:  Well, then, we ought to examine the topic we proposed just now: When is a speech well written and delivered, and when is it not?

Phaedrus:  Plainly.

Socrates:  Won’t someone who is to speak well and nobly have to have in mind the truth about the subject he is going to discuss?

Phaedrus:  What I have actually heard about this, Socrates, my friend, is that it is not necessary for the intending orator to learn what is really just, but only what will seem just to the crowd who will act as judges.  Nor again, what is really good or noble, but only what will seem so.  For that is what persuasion proceeds from, not truth.

Socrates:  Anything that wise men say, Phaedrus, “is not lightly to be cast aside" (Iliad ii.361); we must consider whether it might be right.  And what you just said, in particular, must not be dismissed.

Phaedrus:  You’re right.

Socrates:  Let’s look at it this way, then.

Phaedrus:  How?

Socrates:  Suppose I were trying to convince you that you should fight your enemies on horseback, and neither one of us knew what a horse is, but I happened to know this much about you, that Phaedrus believes a horse is the tame animal with the longest ears 

Phaedrus:  But that would be ridiculous, Socrates.

Socrates:  Not quite yet, actually.  But if I were seriously trying to convince you, having composed a speech in praise of the donkey in which I called it a horse and claimed that having such an animal is of immense value both at home and in military service, that it is good for fighting and for carrying your baggage and that it is useful for much else besides –

Phaedrus:  Well, that would be totally ridiculous.

Socrates:  Well, which is better?  To be ridiculous and a friend?  Or clever and an enemy?

Phaedrus:  The former.

Socrates:  And so, when a rhetorician who does not know good from bad addresses a city which knows no better and attempts to sway it, not praising a miserable donkey as if it were a horse, but bad as if it were good, and, having studied what the people believe, persuades them to do something bad instead of good – with that as its seed, what sort of crop do you think rhetoric can harvest?

Phaedrus:  A crop of really poor quality.

Socrates:  But could it be, my friend, that we have mocked the art of speaking more rudely than it deserves?  For it might perhaps reply, “What bizarre nonsense!  Look, I am not forcing anyone to learn how to make speeches without knowing the truth; on the contrary, my advice, for what it is worth, is to take me up only after mastering the truth.  But I do make this boast: even someone who knows the truth couldn’t produce conviction on the basis of a systematic art without me?”

Phaedrus:  Well, is that a fair reply?

Socrates:  Yes, it is – if, that is, the arguments now advancing upon rhetoric testify that it is an art.  For it seems to me as if I hear certain arguments approaching and protesting that that is a lie and that rhetoric is not an art but an artless practice (see also Gorgias 462b-c).  As the Spartan said, there is no genuine art of speaking without a grasp of truth, and there never will be.

Phaedrus:  We need to hear these arguments, Socrates.  Come, produce them, and examine them: What is their point?  How do they make it?

Socrates:  Come to us, then, noble creatures; convince Phaedrus, him of the beautiful offspring (see Symposium 209b-e), that unless he pursues philosophy properly he will never be able to make a proper speech on any subject either. . .

(Plato, Phaedrus, translated by Dorothea Frede, Plato: Complete Works, edited by John M. Cooper, Hackett Publishing Company, Indianapolis, Indiana, 1997, pages 535-537, 258d-261a, ISBN: 9780872203495)

1.  Plato’s dialogue, Phaedrus, has a kind of otherworldly feeling to it; it’s a little bit like fantasy literature.  I am referring to the frequent presence of, or references to, various types of deities.  Early in the dialogue Socrates and Phaedrus talk about the presence of nymphs in the rural setting where the dialogue takes place.  In addition, there is a reference to a mythic incident where the God Boreas took a maid from a nearby stream.  And in the dialogue the cicadas are depicted as semi-divine beings who ‘sing’ and upon their deaths report back to the Muses on the behavior of human beings.  Towards the end of the dialogue there is a reference to the legend of Thoth and a commentary on that legend.

This gives the dialogue a deep sense of connection to this level of reality where deities of various types dwell, and how that level of reality intersects with the material world of human beings.  This is referenced in a relaxed and natural way by Socrates, and Phaedrus; and this gives the impression that both of them are used to these kinds of legends, realities, and presences.

Throughout human history these kinds of realities were taken for granted.  The only culture that does not accept these kinds of realities is our present materialist and reductionist culture.  What I am noting is that the depiction of these kinds of presences is the norm for human cultures; it is only because we grow up in an anomalous cultural situation that when we read these passages about these presences we have to struggle to integrate them into our world view.

One way I have looked at this is that I can either accept that all those other cultures were right and that there are such realities and appearances; but the implication of this is that my own culture, which denies these realities in the name of materialism, is wrong.  Or I can assert that my own culture is right and that every other culture in human history is wrong; but aligning with this type of analysis strikes me as a case of cultural hubris.

2.  Above I said that Phaedrus, at times, reads like a modern fantasy.  But perhaps a better way of putting it is that Phaedrus depicts an enchanted world and landscape with a world permeated by meaning and symbolic significance.  It is the absence of this sense of enchantment that is a significant, and depressing, feature of modernity; a feature that both leads to nihilism and at the same time is a cause of nihilism.

2.1  Thinking about what all these presences mean and how to approach them, it occurs to me that the feeling I get is that Phaedrus depicts an animistic world, a world where everything is alive and ensouled.  For example, late in the dialogue it says:

“Socrates: But, my friend, the priests of the temple of Zeus at Dodona say that the first prophecies were the words of an oak.  Everyone who lived at that time, not being as wise as you young ones are today, found it rewarding enough in their simplicity to listen to an oak or even a stone, so long as it was telling the truth, while it seems to make a difference to you, Phaedrus, who is speaking and where he comes from.  Why, though, don’t you just consider whether what he says is right or wrong?

“Phaedrus:  I deserved that, Socrates. . . “

(As above, page 552, 275b)

Discussions about the theology of Platonism seem to center on arguing that Plato was a Pagan Polytheist, or that Plato was in some sense a Monist.  I have tended to view Plato as a Monist, but I think a case can be made for other interpretations of Plato’s theology.  My suggestion here is that Platonism can be understood to have deep roots connecting it with an ancient animistic substrata, inherited from primal traditions such as Orphism and Pythagoreanism.  Notice how Socrates contrasts the youth of his time with those of the past whom he ironically refers to as simple-minded.  This quote is connected with the rest of the dialogue because other sections of the dialogue are focused on, for example, the techniques of rhetoric which can be used to advocate for the truth or for falsehoods.  And there are sections that are similarly focused but in relationship to the Sophists.  The thread that links all of these together is that Socrates is consistently advocating for speaking the truth, for following the path that leads to truth, for listening to the truth, and that this is the Way of Philosophy.  If an oak tree speaks words of truth, or if a stone speaks words of truth, or if the cicadas are speaking truth, then they should be accepted as sources of wisdom.  They should be listened to and learned from.  But this implies that in some sense oak trees, stones, and cicadas are conscious, or have a mind, and that they possess a soul.  I think this reshapes, or can reshape, how we view the religiosity of Platonic thought.  

3.  The dialogue begins with Phaedrus leading Socrates out of the city of Athens into a rural setting.  I believe that the Athens of that day was a walled city so that the transition from urban Athens to the rural setting beyond Athens would be abrupt.  It reminds me of Alice stepping into the looking glass and encountering another world where things are very different.  

4.  As Phaedrus and Socrates are walking to a shade tree near a stream, the question of how to treat these appearances, legends, and enchanted realities is raised.  I posted about this in another context already.  But to briefly repeat, Phaedrus asks Socrates if Socrates really believes that these stories and realities are true?  Socrates responds that he has no time for such questions and that he does not concern himself with them.  He accepts them but focuses on looking into his own self.

I don’t think of the response of Socrates here as agnostic.  Rather I think of it as the response of someone who is comfortable with these realities without being personally invested in them.  My own understanding of this is that Socrates views these fantastic realities as part of the third level, or hypostasis, of reality; that is to say they are part of the material world.  I think the attitude of Socrates resembles someone telling Socrates about the people of China, or the people of India, whom he has never met or interacted with.  If a traveller tells Socrates about these people and places Socrates would be inclined to accept what he was told; but if Socrates met someone who wanted to argue about these reports I suspect Socrates would respond that he doesn’t get into arguments about topics like this because his focus is on knowing his self or his soul.

5.  The image that Plato gives to us of the cicadas singing transforms an experience many of us have had on a hot summer day into a divine communication.  The cicadas become messengers of the presence of the divine.  And they are messengers to the divine regarding our own behavior.  Plato transforms the sound of the cicadas to the singing of the cicadas and by doing so Plato is able to link the cicadas to the Muses.  The Muses have a long history in the ancient world, both in Greece and in other regions.  The number of Muses changed over time and from region to region, but in the classical period there were nine.  According to Wikipedia they are:

Calliope – the muse of epic poetry

Clio – the muse of history

Polyhymnia – the muse of hymns

Euterpe – the muse associated with the flute

Terpsichore – the muse of dance

Erato – the muse of lyric choral poetry

Melpomene – the muse of tragedy

Thalia – the muse of comedy

Urania – the muse of astronomy, astrology, and space

Plato mentions four muses:

Terpsichore – the muse of dance

Erato – the muse of erotic affairs

     Calliope (the oldest of the muses) and Urania (the next oldest) – the muses of discourse both heavenly and human, the muses for those leading a philosophical life.

I’m not sure what role the Muses played in the life of philosophy, but I suspect it was a significant one.  I say this because in 2024 a history of Plato’s Academy was deciphered from a scroll found in Pompeii.  The scroll mentions that Plato was buried in the Academy near a statue, or shrine, of the Muses (reported in The Smithsonian of May 1, 2024.)  This may indicate a relationship between Plato, or Platonism and the Muses, though exactly what this relationship consisted in, is not clear to me.  But tentatively, I think it indicates a divine origin to philosophy and that there was a kind of communication between the Muses of Philosophy, Calliope and Urania, and philosophers like Plato.  

The whole mythic episode is thick with suggestive meaning in the way that a song can have multiple layers of meaning.

6.  The dialogue moves from the singing of the cicadas to the speechifying of humans and asks the question of when a speech is well done.  This is a theme that is woven into the dialogue from beginning to end.  Issues such as whether or not a well constructed speech that attempts to convince people of a lie is still a good speech; or, in contrast, whether a good speech must also be dedicated to the truth.

Plato’s discussion on this topic is found in a number of dialogues, such as those that directly involve Sophists.  It is a topic that is relevant to us today when we are inundated by manipulative discourse such as propaganda and advertising.  Plato’s observations speak directly to the condition of our society at this time.

7.  We live in a society where a significant portion of people, especially intellectuals, do not believe in the existence of truth; instead they believe in something called ‘narrative’ or ‘story.’  This leads to conflicts because there is no way to settle differences of opinion, or view, when there are conflicting narratives if there is no truth.  

For this reason the Platonist is put in the position of defending the idea of truth; not an easy task.

8.  “. . . unless he pursues philosophy properly he will never be able to make a proper speech on any subject . . . “  (as above, page 537)

Philosophy is the love of wisdom.  Wisdom is the pursuit of transcendental truth by making careful distinctions through careful divisions, through dialectic, through carefully crafted questions, through considering implications, and so forth.  Wisdom is also the art of making careful comparisons through devices such as allegory, metaphor, and myth.  All of this is done for the purpose of ascending to the realm of truth that lies beyond the material realm, which is the realm of opinion.  A proper speech is in the service of these goals, in the service of truth and transcendence.