Jordan Sanford Phil200 Ancient Greek Philosophy December 12th, 2009 Dialogue in the Phaedrus A Gesture Towards Self-Cultivation

on In only a few of Plato's dialogues, the characters focus on nature or their surroundings. In the Phaedrus, a dialogue set in obscurity, nature plays a rather large role in what occurs without even saying a word. The setup and style of the dialogue prompts us to question our very understanding of what dialogue entails, urging us to explore a deeper and more complex dynamic to discourse than the common trend. The Phaedrus draws our attention to this conclusion in a variety of ways, from Socrates' use of myth to his attention to detail of seemingly normal objects and, finally, the trend of few truly speaking in their own words. By bringing these to mind Plato urges us to a more fulfilling picture on the nature of dialogue and how it can affect those involved, as well as how the surroundings play a large part in any ongoing and continued discussion. The beginning of the dialogue sets up two important myths in the story: the myth of Boreas and the myth of the cicadas. Each is expertly timed to draw our attention back to ourselves in a very particular way as the story progresses. Phaedrus presses Socrates, asking him whether he believes the Myth of Boreas (229c-230b) is true or mere fabrication. Socrates' response is vital for further understanding of the dialogue, I'm not yet able...to know myself, and it seems ridiculous to me to investigate things that don't concern me while still lacking that knowledge. (230a) To Socrates, whether the Myth is true or false doesn't matter. What matters is how we can orient ourselves towards what we experience in a way that aids our selfunderstanding. We are urged to take the same stance with the dialogue (141, Griswold).

Our energies should be spent oriented towards seeking further self-cultivation and understanding rather than disproving others for that sake alone. Why, then, does Socrates correct Phaedrus when he suggests that the incident happened right where they were? This seemingly contradicts Socrates' earlier statement that the truth of the matter doesn't matter, but it is important to note who says what. Socrates is attempting to get Phaedrus to become critical of himself and what he does rather than complacently memorizing eloquent speeches, the contents of which he doesn't believe in or understand. Phaedrus approaches self-truth in the wrong way. Things should not be considered true because they are convenient. Self-truth isn't convenient and we shouldn't try to fit ourselves into certain situations, rather we should explore those situations so we can find what we can about ourselves within them (this idea seems to be revisited as the pair find themselves beneath the Platanos Tree in the sense that they 'find' Plato, not the other way about). But even here Socrates seems to contradict himself. He states that he is capable of learning nothing from nature and that he is a foreigner outside of the city walls, The countryside and the trees don't want to teach me anything, but the people in town do (230d), yet he knows the exact spot where the myth occurred and can cite a landmark to prove it: No, the place is some two or three hundred yards further along, where we cross over to the district of Agra. There's an altar to Boreas at the spot (229c). This contradictory nature once again urges us to be aware and attentive of what's being said versus what's being done. These playful words may very well be gentle nudges to see if Phaedrus notices the contradiction, to see if he looks past the words and can understand what they mean, rather than how they sound, but to the reader these contradictory things can still speak to us even if they seem to elude Phaedrus. As mentioned, the truth of a story is not the focal point, it's what one can do to learn from the experience.

Adding more to the contradictory nature of what is occurring, as Socrates and Phaedrus continue looking for a spot to settle down and speak, Socrates puts a large amount of effort to describing the surroundings they have found themselves in despite his earlier claims that nature has nothing to teach him: By Hera, it is a beautiful resting place! This plane-tree is very widespreading and tall...it seems to be a place sacred to some of the Nymphs and Achelous (230b-c). The way this occurs is of no small importance due to the bilogue format we read. It is not a narrator explaining the scene to us to draw our attention. There is no third party viewpoint that it is being spoken from; the characters themselves are focusing on what is going on, not to paint a picture for us, the readers, but to bring it into their own awareness. Dismissing this would be to miss a major aspect of the Phaedrus. Socrates does not merely comment that it is pleasant outside, rather he goes into detail of the pure and sparkling water, the fresh breeze, and with likely no small amount of ego-boosting on Plato's part, the impressive nature of the Plane Tree (230b). Phaedrus comments to Socrates about these antics: And you, you surprising man, appear to be the oddest person (230d). While Socrates' antics might be perplexing, they certainly are not unfounded or pointless. Socrates is attempting to do two things with Phaedrus. The first is bringing, once again, the background to the foreground in order to draw our attention to the underlying nature of the dialogue (x). The second is to keep Phaedrus thinking about that ever-present What can I learn from this? that was established right in the beginning of the dialogue. By bringing up the nature around them, Socrates shifts awareness from the pair to the plethora of things around them. In effect, he draws out the audience of the dialogue. While it is common to consider dialogue as an exchange between present people, our views are challenged as Socrates paints a picture of the scene. We are surrounded by viewers; the winds, cicadas, myth, plants, and to an extent, the gods

themselves are all looking over this conversation. All of these show up in the dialogue multiple times, and in a very true sense, Socrates and Phaedrus are not alone, despite being the only 'ones' there. Socrates continues to make constant references to what is going on around them, something which plays a vital role in the nature of the dialogue the two engage in. Throughout the dialogue the background seems to spring up at odd times, returning our attention the the things that surround the characters. Socrates brings these up at very specific times, the most overt example being the myth of the cicadas, placed just lines before the pair launch into their discussion of rhetoric, If, however, they see us conversing and sailing by them without falling under their Siren-like spell, then in admiration they may grant us the gift they have from the gods to give human beings. (259a-b). The meaning of this is ambiguous, and in fact, the 'gift' is never explicitly stated, but Socrates seems to be urging a specific point with both the placement and the specific words. If we see rhetoric and dialogue in the same light as the Siren-like song of the cicadas, then we are being asked to keep attentive and active within a conversation instead of becoming complacent and merely receptive to the words we hear. We are once again urged to remain active and aware. This is important to Phaedrus in particular, a young man who seems to be entirely enthralled by speeches of all kinds, whimsically dashing between one or the other without care of their content, as Socrates suggests from 228a-c. This unreflective stance towards ideas is something Socrates seems to wish to pull out of Phaedrus and replace with a critical mindset and self-reflective purpose. But nature is no mere tool for Socrates to use to prod Phaedrus into activity. The myth of the cicadas is a suggestion of the power of nature and its effect on us. While it is a 'viewer' of what is going on, it is also another speaker. We notice that none of the first three speeches given are ones that are the words of those who spoke them. Phaedrus speaks the thoughts of Lysius,

Socrates first speaks for Phaedrus (242e), and, in the palinode, from Stesichorus(244a). Throughout this dialogue and others Plato makes references to Muses and Nymphs who play a special role in dialogue and inspiration: This place really does seem divine; so if, as I present my speech, I often seem to be possessed by the Nymphs, don't be surprised (238d). What is being done by bringing in this plethora of people? We are being shown that there are many more things at play than the simple one-to-one conversations we normally consider dialogue. People who aren't present, and even things that aren't normally considered sentient are suggested to be interlopers in the dialogue. Nature itself, the environment the pair have set themselves in, the muses who bring Socrates divine inspiration and even his Daemon keeps Socrates back from ending the dialogue halfway through (242c)...all of these become important players in the dialogue, without which very little could have been accomplished. Taking all this into account, viewing dialogue as discourse that can only occur between two or more present people seems insufficient. Just within the Phaedrus we find that someone doesn't have to be present to participate in the dialogue, Lysius being the most obvious example; past that we find that the ones participating in the dialogue don't even need to be people, such as in the case of the Nymphs. Dialogue, then, seems to come from some exchange of ideas, an exchange of ideas that doesn't necessarily occur within the confines of language, spoken or written. Certainly it can use both of these things, but by understanding how other things can express themselves we are opened to a much larger audience, just as Socrates and Phaedrus are. Nature itself is the most prominent of these figures in the Phaedrus. It acts as both a speaker and a listener, something Socrates brings out in various myths and actions. In the beginning of the dialogue, as mentioned, Socrates goes into great detail with the surroundings. These surroundings play no small part in the way this dialogue (and others) unfold. Here we are

settled in a pleasant day and a highly erotic setting. It seems unlikely that on a day with inclimate weather this dialogue could have occurred at all, because nature here acts as a facilitator, an entity that nurtures the conversation that the two wish to have (as Phaedrus mentions on 229a-b, he is without shoes). The tone of the conversation the pair engage in mimics this. Unlike the agonistic approach that seems to be taken in other dialogues, the Phaedrus is one of selfcultivation, playfulness, and nurturing. The surroundings allow such a thing to happen by giving them the proper context for such. Imagining this discussion in the same atmosphere as the Gorgias seems almost contradictory. Nature plays a very particular role in the Phaedrus and Socrates' demonstration of it to Phaedrus is very pointed. The background (nature) of the dialogue is used as another way to explain the various points the dialogue is trying to make. In how Socrates uses the myth of the cicadas to keep us attentive, nature is keeping us aware in the same way by the very character of what it is (259c). By remaining in the background it acts much like the underlying point of any spoken dialogue. If we are aware enough we can notice the background and see what is occurring past the words, but if we are complacent we will miss the 'big picture.' As Phaedrus shows it is easy to fall back into the words and lose the meaning, on 241e Phaedrus awaits Socrates to continue his speech, thinking he has only made half of his points. Socrates retorts, Why make a long speech, what's been said is enough for both (242a). Phaedrus cares about the alluring nature of dialogue, not the underlying message that is being said, just as he cares that he is taking Socrates to somewhere romantic without actually paying attention to the place itself. Socrates stays aware of these things, always being mindful of his surroundings as well as what is occurring within them. By being aware of this he is more capable of helping Phaedrus in his self-cultivation,

another background theme present in the dialogue. The first lines of the dialogue: My dear friend Phaedrus! Where are you going and where have you come from?(227a) Just as Callicles starts out the Gorgias with 'war', Socrates begins this dialogue with the ideas of friendship and traveling. In the same way that nature sets up a particular style of dialogue that it nurtures, Socrates begins his own dialogue in a manner that is both friendly and welcoming, and the idea of travel should not go unnoticed. Just as 'war' is used, Socrates immediately beings play with the metaphor of travel. This continues this metaphor as the dialogue continues: You are an excellent guide for the visiting stranger, Phaedrus my friend!( 230c-d) While it has already been established that Socrates' tone might be a bit sarcastic, or at the least, he is being facetious, he makes it a point to remind Phaedrus that they are traveling together, guiding one another along a certain path. Phaedrus leads them along the physical path to their final resting place where Socrates takes up the lead and begins guiding Phaedrus down a path that betters his soul. Again Socrates' odd behavior can be seen in another light. His attention to the fine detail and background of the path Phaedrus takes him along is a faint gesture, one that is made hoping that Phaedrus will do the same as Socrates brings him along a new path. Socrates takes great care in how he handles Phaedrus throughout the dialogue: Come forward, noble creatures, and persuade Phaedrus, who has such beautiful children, that unless he develops a satisfactory friendship with wisdom, he will never speak satisfactorily about anything (261a-b), both in his tone and how he presents the importance of what they are discussing. Even as they finish their discussion on the pleasant nature of love and move to the more sobered topic of rhetoric, Socrates continues his nurturing tendencies, not looking to cut down Phaedrus' ideas, rather aid him as he formulates his own: : So it is, but, you divine fellow, look at see whether you think, as I do, that their warp has gaps in it (268-b)

As we can see, nature is not a mere tool to be used to set a specific mood. If this were so, Phaedrus would have an excellent understanding of nature's relevance in dialogue. He takes painstaking care in setting the appropriate setting for his discussion for Socrates, acting extremely picky (229a-c), even if his reasons are to impress rather than to create knowledge. Nature is a source of inspiration, a catalyst for ideas, and something that speaks to us in ways that urge us to continue our self-reflection and nurturing capacities. We see examples of this both in Plato's writing as well as historical and life experiences. Socrates' use of the cicadas is a perfect example of this. We are to avoid falling into a lull at the, as he says, Siren-like spell the cicadas sing. When we are able to see beyond these occurrences we can understand their background in new and inventive ways, allowing us to similarly avoid the Siren-like spell of rhetoric. On other occasions in history we are relayed stories that have been inspired by natural phenomena, most notably in the area of invention, but one that plays more into the intent of the dialogue, ethics. When we engage in dialogue with nature and our surroundings we find ourselves, in a sense, bound to them. As Friskics says in his essay Ethics & the Environment: Ethical responsibility means responding to claims of our fellows (mountains, rivers, birds, trees, humans, flowers) from out of the respect and love they call forth from us and foster within us. It involves the enactment of my concern for and commitment to the other. The responsibility to 'the other' that Friskics brings to mind is similar to the way in which Socrates handles Phaedrus. He is looking to benefit and aid Phaedrus in his search for a healthier soul for the sake of Phaedrus alone. The way he approaches Phaedrus is another underlying tone that occurs in the background, but once again, Socrates brings it out and displays it through the palinode. Griswold argues that the palinode, specifically the charioteer allegory, is a myth of

synthesis (154, Griswold). The horses do not beat one another into submission in order to take the lead, just as the charioteer doesn't harm one oover the other to allow the other greater pull. The Charioteer is charged with understanding both of the horses and using the strengths of each to most appropriately guide the three along the path, the same path that continues to show up throughout the dialogue. Who the charioteer is, exactly, is certainly subject to debate, but referring back, it doesn't exactly matter; it is entirely possible that it could be multiple people seen in different lights. Should the charioteer be Socrates (or any other figure who guides), he acts a skilled hand attempting to reel in the madness of the black horse and combine Phaedrus' blind enthusiasm with the reason of the white horse. If the Charioteer is Phaedrus we can readily see him being taken away by the lures of madness while Socrates instructs him, attempting to have him see the nature in which he should conduct himself, one of syntheses and self-cultivation instead of wanton desire and lack of restraint. There are many different ways in which we can view the myth, each of which describes to us in a unique way how we can understand the dynamic that is going on between Socrates and Phaedrus as well as ourselves. The myriad of interplaying forces within this dialogue make it one ripe with personal content so long as the reader makes note of the first and perhaps most fundamental starting points this dialogue takes. By orienting ourselves in the proper way, another theme we are urged towards, we can take much more from this than thoughts that conform to what we already believe; we are able to expand beyond our own experience and allow other people and things to speak to us, inspire us, and guide us towards a lifestyle that is more fulfilling and dynamic. The Phaedrus is a particularly intimate dialogue, both with the characters involved as well as with the reader. We are set up in the place of Phaedrus, constantly being questioned by

Plato as to whether or not we have properly oriented ourselves to dialogue as a mode of selfcultivation. In the same gesture Plato paints a much more dynamic picture of dialogue and how it can affect our lives and souls. We are asked to take notice of not only what is directly present in the foreground but to consider the various different mediums other things in the world are trying to speak to us through. The question many would pose after reading the dialogue asks what Phaedrus learned, or whether he learned at all. But here it is important to remember Socrates' first myth, where the true point of any tale is how we can relate ourselves to it. Just as we ask if Phaedrus has learned anything we are prompted to wonder if we, the readers, have learned anything as well. Only once we know that can we begin questioning these things.

Bibliography Ferrari, G. R. F.. Listening to the Cicadas: A Study of Plato's Phaedrus (Cambridge Classical Studies). New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990. Friskics, Scott. "Dialogue, Responsibility, and Oil and Gas Leasing on Montana's Rocky Mountain Front." Ethics and the Environment 8(2) (2003): 8-30. L., Charles, and Jr. Griswold. Self-Knowledge in Plato's Phaedrus. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996. Plato. The Symposium and the Phaedrus: Plato's Erotic Dialogues (S U N Y Series in Ancient Greek Philosophy). Albany, New York: State University Of New York Press, 1993 Press, Gerald A.. "Pan, the Cicadas, and Plato's use of the Myth in the 'Phaedrus' ." In Plato's Dialogues : New Studies and Interpretations. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 1993. 179-195