AGATON Este de bund seam iubire de ceva. SOCRATE Nu te grabi s4-mi soui de ce anume. doar tine minte ce-ai avut de gind s spui. Deocam- dati doar atit: Eros, Iubirea, iubind ceva. doreste sau nu acel lucru? AGATON Bineinteles c& il doreste. __ SOCRATE Si oare el doreste si iubeste acel lucru in timp ce il are sau inainte de a-l avea? AGATON Din cite se pare, inainte de a-l avea. SOCRATE Gindeste-te bine: doar se pare sau chiar asa este si nu poate fi altfel, si anume cA cineva 2006 doreste numai ceea ce-i lipseste sau, mai bine zis nu doreste ceea ce nu-i lipseste. Eu unul, dragul meu Agaton, sint convins ci nu poate fi decit asa, Tu ce crezi? : AGATON N-as putea crede altfel. SOCRATE Bine. Atunci spune-mi: cineva, fiind mare, ar dori si fie mare? Sau puternic fiind, s& fie putemic? AGATON cite am statornicit noi mai inainte urmeazi ca asa ceva e cu nepatint’. SocraTE Intr-adeviir, cuiva care are o insusire nu poate totodatii s&-i si lipseasc& acea insusire. AGATON E adevarat. SocraTE Si acum presupune cli un om puternic ar dori si fie Putergi, unul jute de picior si fie iute de picior, unul snatos — sin&tos si asa mai de- parte... s& presupunem asta pentr ci s-ar putea ca 2c cineva si creadi ci cei care sint puternici, iuti sinatosi, ce vrei tu, si au aceste: insusiri, desi le au. totusi doresc s& le aiba. Si pentru ca sA nu ne Lisim amagiti de acest fel de a vorbi. intr-adevar, Agaton, 120 200 a daci te gindesti bine, oamenii care au aceste insusiri je au, in clipa in care le au, in asa fel incit, le place, ori nu, n-ar putea si nu le abd. Dar cum ar putea cineva sa doreascii sé aibd ceea ce chiar are si nu poate si nu aibe? Cuiva care ar spune: ,,Eu, om Siniitos, vreau s& fiu snitos, eu, bogat, vreau sa fiu bogat si doresc sii am tocmai ceea ce am" trebuie sii rispundem ,,Ceea ce vrei dumineata, prietene, 200 a avind avere sa sinitate sau putere este si le ai mereu si in viitor, de vreme ce acum tot le ai, de vrei ori nu. Ia gindeste-te putin, nu cumva asta si nu alta vrei si spui: cd doresti s4 ai si in viitor ceea ce ai acum?" Oare n-ar consimti c& de fapt asta doreste? AGATON Cred ca da. SOCRATE Si a dori ca ceea ce ai si rimind al tau si pe viitor nu inseamnd oare a dori ceva care nu-ti 200 sta la indemin& si pe care nu-l ai inc&? AGATON Nu incape indoiald. SOCRATE Agadar un asemenea om, ca si oricare om care doreste ceva, doreste si iubeste ceea ce (acum, in prezent) nu-i sti la indemin’ gi nu stapi- neste, ceea ce fi lipseste, cea ce deocamdat nu este. AGATON Da, aga este. SOCRATE Si atunci hai si vedem ce am statomicit impreuni: inti, ci Eros nu poate fi decit iubire de anumite lucruri, al doilea, c& acele lucruri sint lucruri care, in clipa in care le doreste, ii lipsesc. Asa e? AGATON Da. rola SOCRATE Bine, acum caut& s&-ti aduci aminte care sint acele lucruri pe care le iubeste Eros. Dac vrei o si-ti amintesc eu: ai spus, din cite am inteles eu, cam asa: cA vrajbele dintre zei au fost potolite 121ie iubirea de lucruri frumoase, de vreme ce de lucruri urite nu se afld iubire. i tes whe 9 ire. Nu asa ai spus, poate AGATON Ba chiar asa am spus. SOCRATE $i foarte bine ai spus, iubite prietene. lar, dac& lucrurile stau asa, atunci Eros n-ar putea fi altceva decit iubirea de Incruri frumoase si nici- odat& de lucruri urite. Nu e asa? AGATON Ba chiar asa este. SOCRATE Si am hotirit impreuna c& cel care 201 b iubeste, iubeste ceea ce, neavind, ti lipseste? AGATON Da, asa am hotirit. : _ SOCRATE Prin urmare, neavind-o, nu-i asa cé 4i lipseste frumusetea? AGATON Altfel nu poate fi. SOcRATE Bine, dar atunci mai poti sa sustii ci ceva caruia fi lipseste frumusetea si nu o are in nici un fel, este ceva frumos? AGATON Nu, nu mai pot. SOCRATE $i atunci, vorbind despre Eros, mai esti de pirerea celor care sustin ci e framos? ; AGATON M& tem, Socrate, ci, atunci cind am spus asta, nu prea stiam bine ce spun. 20e SOCRATE Totusi ai vorbit foarte framos. Dar mai raspunde-mi inci la o micd intrebare: ce crezi, ceea ce este bun nu este totodat si frumos? AGATON Asa cred. . SOCRATE Prin urmare, dacd Ini Eros fi lipseste ceea ce e frumos si dac& ceea ce este frumos este si bun, Eros este lipsit si de ceea ce este bun ; __ AGATON Nu ma simt in stare, Socrate, s&-ti stau impotriva. Fie cum zici tu. : 122 SOCRATE Nu, iubite Agaton, nu mie nu-mi pot sta impotriva, ci adevarului. SX-i stai impotriva lui Socrate nu ¢ greu deloc. Siacum o si te las in pace. in schimb, o s& incerc, 201 4 cit imi st& in putere, s4 VA inftisez vorbirea despre | Eros pe care am auzit-o cindva de la o femeie din Mantineea, Diotima, care stia multe nu numai despre Eros, ci si despre atitea alte lucruri. Astfel, cu multa vreme in urmi, inainte de Marea Ciumi, pe cind atenienii aduceau jertfe pentru ca molima sa nu vind asupra lor, ea, Diotima, a izbutit s-o intirzie cu zece ani. Ea e aceea care m-a invajat tot ce stiu despre Eros si de aceea voi incerca, atita cit sint eu in stare, s& vA spun si voud ce am aflat de Ja ea. Si o s-o fac pornind de la incheierile asupra clrora m-am inteles cu Agaton. Asadar, dragul meu, se cade s& incep, asa cum ai hotirit tu ci e bine, prin a arlita inti ce anume si cum anume este Eros, rliminind ca apoi si art in ce const lucrarea lui. Si cred c4 pentru unul ca mine o s& fie mai usor s& fngir lucrurile pe rind 201 asa cum s-au petrecut, straina intrebindu-mi ‘si eu raspunzind. Eu sustineam aproape aceleasi licruri ca mai adineaori tu, Agaton, fati de mine, si anume c& Eros este un mare zeu si cli se numéra printre cei frumosi, iar ea le-a respins la fel cum am respins eu ceea ce sustinea Agaton, arlitindu-mi ci, din propri- ile mele spuse, rezulti ci Eros nu este nici frumos si nici bun. Apoi iat ce vorbe am schimbat: Socrate Cum adici, Diotima, s& fie oare Eros un zeu urit si rau? DioTima Cum poti vorbi asa! Crezi cumva ci cea ce nu ¢ frumos este neap&rat urit? 123ora 202 202¢ SOCRATE Desigur. DIOTIMA $i crezi deasemenea cf lipsa de stiinta este numai decit nestiintd, cf nu se afld intre ele ‘ceva care nu este nici una, nici alta? SOCRATE Si ce sa fie oare lucrul ucela? DIOTIMA Ar trebui s& stii cA a socoti adevarat un Iucra adevarat fri a putea sii dovedesti adevarul nu inseam nici stint (cum s& existe stiinta fara dovad’?) nici nestiintd (cum si fie nestiint& ceva care nimereste peste adevir?) Pérerea adevarata este tocmai cunoasterea despre care vorbeam: ceva care se afl intre intelegere si nestiint’. SOCRATE Adevarat. Drona Prin urmare nu mai spune ci ceea ce nu e frumos este neaparat urit si cd ceea ce nu e bun este ne- gresit ru, Tot asa se cade si gindesti si cu privire la Eros. Faptul cA, asa curn ai consimit, el nu este nici bun, nici fromos nu te sileste s8 crezi cd este urit si miu, ci ce mai degrab ceva la mijloc fntre acestea dou’. SOCRATE $i totusi toat lumea este de pirere c& Eros este un mare zeu. Diotima Cind spui « toati lumea » te gindesti la cei nestiutori sau la cei stiutori? SOCRATE Si la unii si alfii deopotriva! DIoTIMa (rizind) Bine, dar cum ar putea spune ck este un mare zeu tocmai aceia care, din capul locului cred c& nici macar un zeu nu este? SOCRATE Cine sint aceia? DioTiMA Unul esti tu, iar cealalti eu. SOCRATE Nu inteleg ce vrei sti spui! DIOTIMA $i totusi nu e greu deloc. Spune-mi, ce crezi, sint zeit, toti citi sint, fericiti si frumosi? Sau uteri si spi eh vreunul dinre ei nu este nick una, nici SOCRATE Fereascé-mi Zeus sé spun asemenea luca! 124 DIOTIMA Tu pe cine socotesti fericit? Nu pe acela care se bucura de lucruri bune $1 framoase? SocraTe Da, pe acela, : Diorma Totusi ai consimtit c& Eros, lipsit flind de 202¢ cele bune si de cele frumoase, doreste s& le sibA? SOCRATE Am consimtit, da. DiotiMa Si atunci cum s& fie el un zeu, dacd nu are parte de ele? SOCRATE S-ar parea cA nu are cum. Diotima Agadar vezi bine cA nici ta nu-l socotesti pe Eros drept zeu. SocRATE $i atunci ce ar fi sA fie el, Eros? Muritor? DIOTIMA Nici pomeneala. SOCRATE Atunci ce? Diora intocmai ce am hot&rit adineaori: ceva intre muritor $i flint fari de moarte. SOCRATE Si ce anume ar fi asta, Diotima? DIoTIMA Un mare daimon, Socrate. Pentru ci tot ce 202¢ este daimonic se afli intre zeu si muritor. SOCRATE Si care ar fi puterea lui? Diora Aceea de a tilmici si de a impirtisi zeilor cele omenesti si oamenilor cele ale zeilor: rugile si jert- fole aduse de unii, poruncile date de ceilalti, precum si rasplitile jertfelor. Si astfel, aflindu-se intre cele dou Tumi, Eros umple golul dintre ele si le leagit int-un singur Tot, unindu-l pe sine cu sine. Prin mijlocirea tui se inffiptuieste intregul mestesug al prezicerii, cel al preotilor care aduc jertfe de rug’ sau de multumire, al velox care fac farmece, ghicituri, precum si descintece 205 ¢ si vriji de tot felul. Zeii nu au de a face nemijlocit cu Samenii, ei nu se apropie sinu stau de vorbii cu ei, nici fn trezie, nici in somn, decit prin mijlocirea naturit daimonice. Tar acela dintre oameni care se pricepe 1a asemenea mijlociri este un om daimonic. in schimb, i cel care se pricepe la orice altceva, arti fie sau mestesus | 125din nou, $i cind 9 duce in huzur, cind risipeste tot ce ate, astfel c& despre Eros nu se poate spune nici cl este slrac, nici cle bogat. Deasemenea else afd la mijloc intre stint si mestité. SH te Lmuresc in aceastd privines, Niel umul dintre zei, nu este un fubito ¢ cunoastere $i nu doreste si fie un eunoscator, el chiar flind aceasta; asa cum nimeni nu doreste s& aib% cea ce aze, nici cunoscatorul nu mai are nevoie de conoas- tere, Pe de alt parte nici necunoscitorii nu sint iu! oe de cunoastere si nu dorese si fie cunosetor Pentru ck toomai fn asta sti ral necunoasteri, tn faprul cl cineva care nu este fnzestrat cu minte si, Indeobste, mu este un om cu mari insusiri socoate oi au-i lipseste nimi, i cel care crede asta nici nu rivneste sii dobindeasca ceva. SocRATE Bine, Diotima, dar atunci cine jubeste cu- noasterea, dac& n-o iubesc nici cunose&torii nici necw: me SroTIMA Dupé cite am vorbit, ar # impede s unui aoe» copil ci acestia sint cei care se afld la mijloc Intre i cunoastere si necunoastere. lar Eros este unul dine acestia. Intr-adevar, cunoasterea se numéra ae ae lucrutife framoase $i Eros este iubitor de frumos, astfel ci Eros webuie s& fie neaplrat un iubitor de cunoastere si, 68 atare, la mijloc de cumosstere «4 necunoastere, Dar chiar obirsia Ini este pricini la aceasta. Hebe ct se trage dint-un tat stitor si descurelire, ins dint 0 mami nestiutoare gi neajutorati, lath asadar, iubite Socrate, cae este natura acestui daimon. Cit priveste 2 ce credeai tu despre Eros, nuvi deloc de mirare of a cazut fn asemenca greseald. Tw credeai, din cite reiese chiar din spusele tale, cl Eros ¢ cvea ce este iubit, nu ceea ce iubeste. Binuiese ci de aceea 1 s-a paut tie Eros este de o frumusefe desivirsiti. i chiar aga este citi vreme vorbim despre ceva care este cu adevaral 127 nu este decit un simplu meserias. Daimonii de care Vorbim sint multi si de tot felul, iar unul dintre ei este Eros, SOCRATE Si cine fi este lui tata si cine mami? we Diotima E 0 poveste cam lungé. Totusi o s4 ti-o spun. Tata, in ziua in care s-a niscut Afrodita zeii benchetuiau si, o data cu ei, fiul lui Metis, Razbatatoral. Dupa ce s-au ospitat, s-a aritat si Siricia care, vizind ce belsug se afl acolo, s-a gindit sii cerseasci. Stites undeva linga ust. Rlizbavitorul, beat de cit nectar bause (vin nu era ined pe atunci), a iesit in gridina lui Zeus $i, rapus de bauturd, s-a intins acolo si a adormit. Srlicia, in siricia ci, s-a gindit si aibd un copil cu Razbitatorul si s-a intins ling’ el si astfel a rimas 203. insdrcinata cu Eros. Iar pentru ci Eros a fost zimislit in timp ce se sirbitorea nasterea Afroditei si totodatd Pentru c&, din pricina aceasta, in el este innascuta dragostea de frumusefe, el a devenit insotitorul si sluji- torul frumoasei Afrodite. Pe de alti parte, iat ce-i vine lui Eros din faptul c& este odrasla Razbatitorului si a Sériciei. Mai intii si intii el este vesnic slirac si departe 203 4 de a fi gingas si frumos, asa cum si-l inchipuie cei mai multi. Dimpotriva, el este lipsit de gingasie, ponosit si desculs, nu are silas, ci doarme pe pimintul gol si sub cerul gol, intinzindu-se pe la praguri si pe margini de drum. Mostenind-o pe maicii-sa, se afld mereu in lips de ceva. In schimb, de la parintele sau fi vine faptul ci nazuieste in tot chipul si dobindeasca Iucruri frumoase si de pret, c& este dirz, ajungator, plin de avint, un Vinitor foarte priceput, nascocind mereu cite ceva ca si-si ating’ telul, setos de cunoastere si stiind s-o do- bindeascd, filozofind tot timpul, mare vrajitor si vraci, 205 un adevarat sofist, $i nu s-a niscut ca si fie nepieritor, dar nici muritor: uneori, in aceeasi zi, mergindu-i bine este infloritor si plin de viaji, apoi moare ca si invie 126vrednic de iubire: acel Iucru este frumos, gingas, fry nee ee ecticit. Inst cea ce inbeste este intr-alt chip, | acela pe care ti lam infiitisat eu, SOCRATE Bins, fie cum zici, umos vorbiteae sudina, dar mai departe? Dacii Ios este ce si cum spui fu, care este rostul lui in viata omeneascd? amd Diotima Acum tocmai in privinta aceasta urma si te lamuresc, Socrate. Asadar, cum ti-am ardtat, acesta ia. Tu, la rindul tin, Spui cd Eros este iubirea de Iucruri framoase. Acum si go nchipuim ci cineva ne-ar intreba: « Spuneti-m:, Socrate 91 Diotima, in ce consti inbirea de Incran frumoase? » Sau, si mai limpede: « Ce anume doreste cel care iubeste iucruri frumoase fe chiar mi-a fost | ust aceasti intrebare si am rispuns: « Doreste ca ele k Sd fie ale lui. » Dar raspuns ‘Sta a desteptat o alt} intrebare, cam de felul acesta: « Bine, dar. dupi ce vor fi ale lui, ce se va petrece cu el? » Am zis: « Inc& nu Prea sint pregatit s4-ti dau un rispuns, » Si vedem insd ce ai tispunde tu acum dacd cineva, inlocuind frumo- 204¢ sul cu binele, te-ar intreba: «Te rog si-mi spui, Socrate: Ce anume doreste cel care iubeste lucrurile bune? SOCRATE Doreste si fie ale lui Diotima $i ce se va petrece cu el dupa ce vor fi ale hui? Socrate La o asemenea intrebare rispunsul este mai usor: va fi fericit, 2054 Diovmma intr-adevar, cei fes sint fericiti, tocmai pentru c& au dobindit binele si astfel nimeni nu are Prile} s4 mai intrebe «De ce doreste cineva #4 fie fericit? » Dimpotriva, in asemenea caz se pare ci raspunsul si-a atins pe deplin telui. SOcRATE Adevirat, asa e cum spui tu. Diorima Si ce crezi, dorinta aceasta si dragostea aceasta sint ele oare simtite de toti oamenii, toti dorese ca lucrurile bune sa fie ale lor si si fie tifereu ale lor? Sau numai uni? oe OCRATE Eu cred ci tofi. Done Bine, Socrate, dar atunci, dacd, aga cum | am hotirit noi, toti iubesc aceleasi lucruri si le iubesc 205 b mereu, de ce spunem ci numai unii oameni iubesc, iar altii nu? io MA mir gi eu de asta. bon ne ai eide ce 55 i miri. Pentru ca, a cum putem acum infelege, noi deosebim un singur fe al iubirii si fl numim, cu numele intregului, iubire. Iar | celorlalte feluri de iubire le spunem altfel, Sockate Dimi rogu-teo pid’. Diorima Tata una: dup’ cum bine stii, cind spunem, , c& nu doresc numai si fie a ci s& fie al lor mereu. neeeaaae SOCRATE $i asta. _DioTIMA Urmeazit deci, intr-un cuvint, gi iubirea este iubire de un bine care si fie al tau mereu. Socrate Nimic mai adevérat, Diotima. 7: Diora De vreme ce.am statomicit cA orice iubire = bre de bine, si ne inrebim acum ince chip si prin ce fel de activitate trebuie si urmiireascii oamenii binele 130 wr statornic pentru ca rivna §i stridania lor s& poati fi mit jubire. Ce anume fac ei? Ai sti si-mi rispunzi? SocRATE Daca as sti, Diotima, nu m-ag mira atita de tiinfa ta si nici n-as fi acuma Ja tine si invat un Iuctu gata stiut. DIOTIMA Bine, atunci o s&-ti spun eu. Activitatea de care e vorba consti in a zimisli intra frmusete, @ trupy- ini si a sufletului deopotriva SOCRATE Poate doar ghi vrei s& spui. DIOTIMA Atunci o si vorbesc mai limpede. Vezi tu, 206¢ fn trupurile si in sufletele tuturor oamenilor se afl, ca tun preaplin, nevoia de a zimisli si, cind ajungem la anumitd virst’, natura noastri rivneste si zimisleasca si sA nase. Dar nu-i sti in putinti sa faci asta in partea uritului, ci doar in aceea a frumosului. Jar unirea barbatului cu femeia este zamislire. Si unirea aceasta este un lucru divin si chiar se poate spune sémintarea, sarcina si nasterea sint, in viata fiinfelor ‘eritoare care sintem, o forma a nemuririi. Dar acestea 2064 ha se pot petrece intru nepotrivire, iar intre divin si urit nepotrivire este, potrivirea cu divinul este numai @ framosului, Urmeazii de aici ci zimislirii Framusetea tt este Ursitoare si Moasi Cereascii. [ati de ce, ori de cite ori fptura omeneasca rodnick se apropie de frumos, ea se insenineazi si se destinde, bucuroas4, si zimisleste a nastere. Iar cind se apropie de urit, dimpotriva, se posomoraste si, mihnitd, se stringe in sine si se face ghem, astfel c& nu are loc nici o zAmislire. $i trebuind si-si opreasc rivna de a zimisli, suferé. De aici si faptul cd Ainta rodnica si preaplina de sev este fermecatii cind 206¢ se apropie de frumusete, pentru ci cel care se bucura de ea scapi de chinul dorintei, Astfel ci, Socrate, iubirea hw este, nemijlocit, ubire de framusefe, aga cum crezi. SOCRATE Dar atunci de ce este? xr si fiu ca sa pricep ce 131DIOTIMA Este de zimislirea intru frumusete. SOCRATE Asa si fie? 3 Diotima intocmai asa. De ce de zimislire? Pentru ci zAmislirea este, pentru o fiinf muritoare, tot ce poate 207 4 a avea ca viata vesnick si nemurire. Iar dac&, aga cum Ie am statomicit impreund, iubirea este dorinta de a dobindi binele Pentru vecie, nemurirea trebuie neapdrat doriti impreund cu binele si prin urmare iubirea trebuie sii fie negresit si iubire de nemurire. Tati ge am invatat de la Diotima in cele citeva prilejuri cind mi-a vorbit despre iubire. Apoi, intr_o zi, m-a intrebat: i DIOTIMA Care crezi tu, Socrate, ci este pricina aces- tei iubiri sia acestei dorinte? Ai vazut de bund seami in ce stare ciudata intra animalele, ale pimintului si ale vazduhului, ori de cite ori sint minate de dorinta de a_| > zdmisli: sint toate ca bolnave de dragoste, intii in caldurile imperecherii, apoi ca si-si hrineasc4 puii: pentru a-i apara, sint gata sii se hupte si chiar sii-si dea Viafa, pind si cu animale mult mai puternice decit ele 31, Ca sii hrineasci, rabda de foame si, indeobste, nu Precupetesc nimic pentru binele lor. Cind e vorba de ameni, s-ar putea crede ci fac toate acestea dintr-o socotinfé. Dar oare tu ce crezi, animalelor de unde le vine dragostea asta atit de inversumat&? Sti cumva? SOCRATE Sa spun drept, nu stiu _,_ DIOTIMA Nu stii? Si crezi céo s-ajungi vreodati si intelegi iubirea f&rX s& sti asta? SocRATE P&i, Diotima, cum fi-am spus si adineaori tocmai de asta am venit la tine, pentra ci mi-am dat seama c& am nevoie de un invatitor, Asadar arati-mi, rogu-te, atit care e rispunsul la intrebarea ta, precum orice altceva se cade sii mai stiu despre iubire. 132 Diorma Atunci iati cum stau lucrurile. in privinta animalelor, dac& ai dobindit convingerea c&, prin natura ei, ivbirea este ceea ce pin’ acum am statornicit impreund in mai multe rinduri, atunci nu ai de ce si te minunezi. Intr-adevar, cind e vorba de animale, potrivit 207 4 aceluiasi fel de a gindi, fiinta pieritoare nazuieste, atit cit ii sti in putintd, si nu moar’ niciodati, s% dinuie vesnic. lar singurul mijloc ca si dobindeasc& aceasta este ziimislirea, prin care ea las& mereu alté faptura, noua, in locul celei vechi. Pe de alt& parte si ne gindim c& aceasti innoire are loc chiar inlduntrul ristimpului pe care il numim « viata » fiecdrei fiinje si citi vreme rimine mereu ea insisi. Doar asa spunem, c& orice fin’, din copilarie pind la batrinefe, este aceeasi flint’, desi in ea nimic nu rimine acelasi, ci, mereu pierzind cite ceva, intregul ei trup se innoieste mereu: p&rul, carnea, oasele, singele, totul. Dar si nu credem c& lucrul 207 ¢ acesta este adevarat numai despre trup, ci si despre suflet: niciuna dintre inclinirile, felurile de a fi, parerile, dorintele, plicerile, durerile, spaimele cuiva nu ramine, de-a lungul vietii nimanui, statornic aceeasi, ci se schim- ba mereu prin disparitia uneia si aparitia alteia. insi nimic mai ciudat decit faptul c& pind si cunostintele 208 noastre se primenesc, unele apirind si altele dispirind din mintea noastré si nu numai cd noi insine nu sintem mereu aceiagi in ce priveste cunostintele noastre, dar si fiecare dintre aceste cunostinte in parte suferd aceleasi schimbiiri. Iar ceea ce numim noi « lucrare a mintii » exist tocmai pentru ci ceea ce stim la o vreme anume ne piriseste: uitarea tocmai aceasta este, iegirea din minte a cunostintelor noastre. ins& lucrarea mintii redesteapt in noi cunostinta uitat si ne face si credem cd ea s-a pustrat si a rimas aceeasi. Tot in chipul acesta d&inuie orice fiinti pieritoare, nu riminind cu desiviryire ea insiigi mereu, ca fiintele divine, ci Misind mereu in 208 b 133208d urma ei in locul vechii fiinte imbitrinite si destrimate, © fiin}a noua, totusi asemenes oi. Vezi tu, Socrate, numai asa cea ce e pieritor cu trupul su si cu tot ce mai este el poate s% fie partas la nemurire. Prin urmare n-ai de ce s& te minunezi de faprul ci, prin natura ei orice fiinf4 pune atita pret pe progenitura ei: intreaga ei rivn’, care este iubire, fi vine de dragul nemuriri SOCRATE (mirat de tot ce auzisem de la ea) Chiar asa si stea Iucrurile, mult stiutoare Diotima? DIOTIMA (incepind ca un sofist de meserie) S& stii ch intocmai asa! Uiti-te bine la oameni gi la dragostea lor de faima. Dac& nu esti patruns de adevarul spuselor mele te-ai mira vazind in ce stare fi pune patima de a ajunge vestiti: « Faima fara de moarte A aiba cit tine vecia». Pentru a dobindi asta sint gata si infrunte orice primejdie, chiar mai aprig decit pentru copii lor, s& cheltuiascd averi, sA se osteneasca in fel si chip, chiar si-si dea viata si, intr-adevar, iti poti oare inchipui pe Alcesta dindu-si viata pentru Admet, sau pe Ahile urmindu-I curind in moarte pe Patrocle sav pe regele Codros al vostru iesind in calea mortii pentru ca urmasii lui si-i mogteneascd domnia daci tofi acestia nu s-ar fi gindit si lase dupa ei, drept rasplata @ curajului sia jertfei lor, amintirea fird de moarte pe care ne-au lisat-o? Departe de asta, dimpotriva, sint convinsa cA toti oamenii fac tot ce le sta in putinta ca s& dobindeasci,, prin slaviti faim, nemurirea vred- niciei lor. $i, ou cit sint mai vrednici, cu atit nizuiese la o slavi mai mare. Pentru c& sint indragostiti de nemurire. Cei al cror prisos de rodnicie este trupesc se indreapté indeosebi c&tre femei si felul lor de a iubi este acela de a zimisli copii, socotind ca prin asta vor avea parte de fericirea nemuririi si vor fi tinuti minte «cit e vegnicia de lung’ ». 134 Cit despre cei al clror suflet... Da, Socrate, exist ‘eameni cSrora dorul de zAmislire le cuprinde sufletul mai mult decit trupul si care niizuiesc s4 zimisleasc’ $i sA aduc pe lume ceea ce i se cuvine sufletului si timisleascA $i si aduc& pe lume. Ce anume? Roadele mintii si tot ce poate da puterea ei. Acestora le sint p&rinti poetii, toti poetii, precum gi acei artisti pe care ii socotim innoitori. Dar, dintre toate roadele mintii, cea mai insemnati si cea mai frumoasi este cea de care e nevoie pentru buna rinduire a cetatilor si a asezirilor, cea careia ii spunem chibzuintd si dreptate. Si, atunci Cind se naste un om care, din fraged virst, se arata a avea un suflet dornic de zmislire si cind un asemenea om plin de har ajunge la virsta zimislirii, atunci ne- gresit si el, ca si cel impins de rivna trupului, incepe si caute prin lume frumusejea intra care si zimisleasci. Pentru aceasta nu va ciuta niciodat uritenia. Ca om rodnic, are mai mult drag de trupurile frumoase decit de cele urite. Iar daca se intimpli ca intr-un trup frumos si gseascd gi un suflet ales si frumos si bine inzestrat de la fire, mare este dragostea lui pentru atitea insusiri adunate intr-o singuri fiint&. Si, vorbindu-i, gaseste belsug de vorbe privitoare la vrednicie si la cum trebuie si fie omul vrednic si cu ce trebuie s& se indeletniceasc& 1. Si astfel il invatS si il creste. Dind de un asemenea m si apropiindu-se de el, cel care mai demult nizuia la asta zimisleste si naste, si ceea ce i se naste fi sti la suflet mereu, ori ci e ling el, ori c& se afli departe: iu ajutorul celuilalt, ti di o crestere desiivirsita. O asemenea pereche de oameni se bucuri de o mai mare unire si de o mai trainicd dragoste decit aceia care cresc impreund copii, pentru c& au ajuns partasi la cresterea unor copii mai frumogi si mai putin supusi mortii. Mai mult, nu este om care sé nu fie mai bucuros s& i se f nasci asemenea odrasle decit si aib3 copii dup’ legea 135 aa 209 b 209 ¢ 209 dfirli omenesti. Si, uitindu-se la Homer sau la Hesiod san Ja alt mare poet, ii pizmuieste c4 au lasat dup’ ei niste copii care le aduc slava in amintirea oamenilor pe misura marii lor vrednicii. Uite-1, daca vrei alt pilda, pe Licurg. Ce copii minunati i-a Lisat el Spartei, mintuitori ai Lacedemonei si as putea si zic ai Greciel intregi. Tar voi, atenienii, ii aduceti mare cinstire lui 2 Solon pentru legile cirora le-a fost plrinte. Fark a mai vorbi de atitia alti mari barbati de pretutindeni, si dintre greci si dintre i, care au facut atitea hucruri frumoase si care au adus pe lume vrednicii de tot felul, Pentru asemenea vistare li s-au inltat peste tot temple unde oamenii se inchini la ci, in timp ce nimeni nu | face asta doar pentru ci cineva a zimislit copii. Acestea sint acelea dintre invapiturile despre iubire 210. in care ai putea fi inifiat pind si tu. Cit despre deplina inifiere si dezviluire, in vederea cirora si cele spuse | mai sus sint de folos pentru cine urmeaz’ calea cea bund, nu stiu daca ty te poti indlfa pind ja ea. Totusi eu vol incerca si o s-o fac cu toati rivna. Urmeazi-mA pe acest drum de esti in stare. lati de ce este nevoie pentra ca felul urmérit sa fie atins urmind calea cea bund. Mai intii cel care n&zuieste Ja felul cel mai inalt trebuie si se apropie, inci de tinar, de cineva care are un trup frumos si, dack se dovedeste ca di roade bune cAlazuirea acelui om, si fl iubeasc& numai si numai pe el si, impreund cu el, si dea nastere la ginduri si vorbe frumoase. insi apoi si-si dea seama c& frumusetea unui » trup este sora cu frumusetea oricirui altuia si cl, dach felul stu este frumusetea infatistirii, ar da dovadi de mare lips de curaj neintelegind c4 in toate timpurile Se vadeste una si aceeasi frumusefe. Si, daci se pitrunde de acest adevir, trebuie si devin’ un mare jubitor al tuturor trupurilor frumoase $i si se lepede neintirziat de atita dragoste pentru un singur trup, socotind-o de putin 136, seam si vrednica de dispret. Apoi si infeleaga ca mult mai de pret decit frumusefea trupului este cea 2 sufletelor. Drept urmare chiar cind oe = ot ee : ie 10s intr-un trup lipsit de deplina inflc fae sei fie de ajuns, sd-I iubeasc& si s&-ipoarte 202 | iB si, i a 4 dea nastere unor de griji si, impreund, si caute si dea vas yas s&-i faci pe tineri mai te pe —— j it si-gi dea seama de frumusete: ajunge negresit si-si dea seama fen care fe afl in ee si in legi i de faptul cA orice fru- | musete este de acelasi fel ca oricare alta, asifel cd, i in felul acesta, va intelege cit de putin lucru este trupeasc’. — aa parka va trebui, bine caliuzit, si react la i ing a di si lor frumusetea. inostinfele minfii, ca si le vada si mu | ea putea cuprinde cu privirea fntreaga sounder naa a frumuseti si msi va mai lega dragostea, ca un sclav, 21 de o singuri frumuseie, fie ea aceea a unui tins, a unui | béirbat sau a unei indeletnicirianume, Inoetiad cs a dintre ele, si rimin’ o biatd fapturi bu Suds seuie Buenos’, intorcindu-si privirile, ca oe largul unei mii, citre intregul cuprins al frumusetii si privindu-l indelung, va da nastere la nenumarate si minunate $i inalte ginduri cuprinse in cuvinte, la cuget&ri izvorite dintr-o nemarginiti dragoste pentru cunoastre ; remmirgi e i ind cind, sporindu-si infelegerea, va d eenere tat ek | aa arane C8 exist © singuri cunoastere, Rocea a frumosului, despre care 0 s&-ti a oe jncearcd acum si ma asculti cv cea fit a uae 2 i i at pind la act inte. Acela care a fost indrumat pin eapts in cunoasterea iubirisicare a privituna oe ina ite sint frumoase, i in urmarea lor fireascd toate cit moas chit la elul din urm& al invita despre iubie, acum, ‘4 i lui de o sel i 14, zlireste ceva prin natura | oa Da, Socrate, tocmai acea Frumusefe de dragul c&reia a fost nevoie de toate stridaniile de pind acum. 137‘Dacd este vreun tinut al vietii in care merité si 214 thiesti, aceasta este: jinuml in care ne afllim in fata Frumusetii insesi. Daci va fi si o vezi vreodati, altceva vei simti decit in fata bogatiei, a podoabelor, a baietilor si a tinerilor frumosi, toate lucruri care te fac, pe tine cel de acum, si te cutremuri, uluit. intr-adevar, mm 5i multi alfii ca tine ati fi in stare, doar ca si va bucurati de vederea iubitilor vostri si s& fifi mereu si mereu impreuna cu ei, si ribbdafi de foame gi de sete cit v-ar tine puterile. Dar atunci ce s ne inchipuim ci ar simfi cineva cfinuia i-ar fi cu putinta s& vada ins%isi Frumusefea 211 ¢ absolut, in toaté curdtenia ei, nepingariti de trupuri omenesti si de culori, de nimic din multele zAdamnicii pieritoare. Divina Frumusete in sine, care nu are chipuri mai multe. Crezi cumva cA putin luern ar fi viafa unui om care ar privi inspre ea si ar privi-o cu ochii mintii 2122 si ar trai astfel in unire cu ea? Oare nu-ti dai seama ci numai acolo fi va fi dat, privind indelung Frumusetea, si dea nastere nu unor biete aseminari ale vredniciei, | c&ci acolo nu aseminiri vede, ci unor vlastare ade- varate, pentru ci acolo vede insusi adevarul? Iar cel care zimisleste adevarata vrednicie si care o creste ajunge drag zeilor si, dac’ fie dat aceasta vreunui om, dobindeste nemurirea. eta Tnainte de toate aceasti Framusete este vesnic’, nu © Supus& nasterii si pieirii, nu sporeste si nu se im- putineazi. in al doilea rind ea nu este pe alocari mai frumoasi si pe alocuri mai putin, nici cind frumoasd gi cind nu, nici framoasa intr-o anume privintd si in altele ‘nu, nici frumoasd aici si uritA in alti parte, frumoasit Pentru unii si lipsit de frumusefe pentra alfii. Mai mult decit atit: cel care n&zuieste spre ea nu si-o va putea inchipui ca avind fas sau miini sau orice altceva mai 2i1b are un trup. Nici ca find o vorbire sau un fel de a cunoaste ceva, Ea nu existé in altceva anume, cum ar fi in vreo fina sau in p&mint sau in cer sau in ce vrei tu, Ea trebuie inchipuith ca existind in sine, deopotriva cu sine si impreun& numai cu sine, si ca avind, in vesnicia ei, mereu aceeasi form’. lar toate celelalte frumuseti sint plrtase la ea, dar in astfel de chip incit nasterea $i pieirea acestora nu duce nicidecum la vreo crestere sau la vreo sc&dere inlduntrul Frumusetii, pe care toate acestea o Iasi neschimbati, Atunci cind, unmind asa cum se cuvine calea iubirii de tineri, urci, treapt cu treapti, deasupra frumusetilor pieritoare, incepe sii ti se arate Frumusefea de care vorbesc si te afliaproape de liman. atic Asadar aceasta este calea cea dreaptd care duce in inaltul iubirii, fie cd o strabatem cu singurele noastré puteri fie c& sintem clauziti de un altul. Pornind de la frumusetile din lumea noastra pieritoare gi vrind si ajungem la Frumusete, urciim necontenit, treapt’ cu treapti, de la un trap frumos ja doua, de la dou’ la toate; si de la trupurile frumoase la faptele frumoase, apoi, de la acestea, Ia invataturile frumoase, pind cind, de la acestea din urm’, ajungem in sfirsit la acea invagiturd care este nimic altceva decit tocmai invatatura despre Frumusete, la al cirei capt aflim ce este Frumusefea cu adevirat. SOCRATE Acestea au fost, Faidros si voi ceilalti, 212 cele pe care mi le-a spus Diotima. Sint pe deplin conyins de adevarul lor. Si, convins fiind, incerc si-i conving si pe altii de faptul c&, pentru a dobindi un asemenea bine, greu s-ar gAsi pentru natura omeneasc’ un ajutor mai bun decit Eros. De aceea | sustin sus si tare c& orice om este dator si-i aducit cinstire. $i de aceea eu insumi pretuiesc iubirea si nu crut nici o stradanie cind ¢ vorba de ea si fi 139 138PLATON CEBES Aga se vildeste. SOCRATE Gi atunci, th Hades, sufletele noastre au Binh? CERES Asa se pare SOCRATE Tar, dintre cele dou’ procese implicate, ‘unul este evident. Intr-adevar, faptal de a muri este sau mn o evidenta? CERES Nu ineape indoiala, SOCRATE Si atunci ce zici si facem? Neo sii accstui fapt procesul stu contrariu, 0 sd atura schioapa™ fn privinga asta, au ne vedem silifi st-i acordim a muri” aan proces invers? CERES Firs doar si poate. SOcRATE Si care at putea s cEnES A refavia®#, socRAT renaste” existé cu adevarat, at fi ptocesul care ditee de | ior cre cel vii? Ss Intocmai. SOCRATE §i dee facrn teste tot atit de sig este sigur cd morfii prov © asa, atunci avem un semp nek ind cB sufletele mozfilor exist de unde ef tenasct™, eS Da, Socrate. Din, cite-am convenit asa decurge scord si asupra acestui din cel morfi Si, dack greseam ndeva, intr-un SOCRATE Tat dealtfel, Csbes, incl ceva care va dovedi, cited eu, ch cele convenite intre aci erau ade- varate™". Intr-adevar, dack devenitea reciproc’ & contrariilor unele din altele n-ar avea loc ca intro migcare circularl, ci procesul s-ar petrece, —rectili- si ireversibil®, numai intr-un singur sens, atunci, cred’ iti seama, pini la urmi toate lucra- increment in acecasi starc*, supuse aceleiast n eaamoN adormirii dar au gi acela, invers, al trezirii din son, atunci vedi gi tu bine ci starea final’ a lecratilo: ar face din povestea lui Endimiou o intimplae ‘de rind si din el un omi ca fofi oamenti, nedeosebin- duce ct nimic, prin somnul siu, de somnat | intregi@®. St tot aga, dack total ar fi uumai iabinare rd dezbinare, repede s-ar faiplini cuvintal lui Anexe- goras:,Toate Iucrurile strinse Ja un loc’. De asemenea, iubite Cebes, dac tot ce este inzestrat cu viafa ar muri gi, odataé mort, ar ramine in starea aceasta si nu s-ar mai intoarce le viaté, mai incape care indoiala ch pind Je urma, in mod absolut ux sax, nimic mar mai viefui si moartes ar totul? Intr-adevar, dacd cele vii sar naste di ceva deeit din cele moartet, ce s-ar putea nis: ca, ele murind, sf nu se piarda total in moarte HERS Chiar nimic, Socrates, Cred ci ceea ce spui este intra totul adevarat. SOCRATE Pentru mine, Cebes, nu incape nici o indoiala cA aga steu Iucrutile si nu_cred cf ne amé- gim! cizind de acord asupra lor. Nu, toate ace Sint realitS i: si rehavierea, gi faptul cX cei vii se din morji, oi existenfa sufletelor celor mor{i#¥. cues Dealtfel si invafitura accea a ta, pe obignuiesti si o invoci adeseaM® si potrivit c&reie inv jarea nu este pentru noi de fapt decit o teamintire™, ea, daca ¢ intemelat&, ne sileste si admitem, uw-i ase, ch trebuie 88 fi invatat cindva mai demult ceca ce ne reamintim acum, Or, acest lucru u-ar fi cu p tinfi daci nu admitem cK, inainte de a ne naste aceasté form omeneascl, sufletul nostra a existat undeva in alt parte’, Astfel ca si pe calea aceasta putem crede c& sufletul este nepicrito: siadas Dar, Cebes, care'sint argumentele aces afizmatii 78.'Te rog si mi le amintesti, pentre nit le am prea lémurit in mint CEEES Exist. o dovadi 138% intre toate, aceea ck, atunci cind oamenilor li se pun intrebari, @ pot fispunde corect Ja orice, bineinfeles daca 3, Or, dack nar ont,Platow ei au ar sa ceva 3i, de asemenea, dack sint pusi in fata unei figeri geometrice sen a altor jodeke##* de acest fel, se obtine dovada cea mai evident’ ci aga stau Iucrurile. SOCRATE Dacd totusi, Simiias, toate acestea nu ing, vezi dack nu poti cides de acord cu mine JeB*, Coea ce te face neincrezitor este cA nu Injelegi cum ceea ce uumim invajare este de fapt 0 rememorare, nui asa? SEMCAS Neinctezitor? Nu sit defel. Dar simt nevoia sd triiesc ew insumit lucrul despre care se vorbeste : si-mi reamintesc. §i iat c& deja, mulfe- it4 expuncrii Ini Cebes, aproape cA imi amintesc, aproape sint convins, Totus as fi bucuros si ascult acum $i felul tau de a ie. SOCRATE Tata nwi aga, cd, pentra afi aminti u sii fi sdut cndvattt, acord ci de 4 stiimte apare dan Incr, oft ni percepindu-l cu vreun alt simy, ajunge sh cumoascl nu numai acel Iueru, ci s& conceap’ si ca unui altul, ceva cate este obiectul unui alt fel de stint’, Cind iucrutite se petrec aga, nu sintem oare indreptiifi sh spunem c& sia reamintit fuerut-aceta 8? SHOITAS Ce vrei sk SOCRATE Tata, de pild’: una este, cunoaste m, alta e a cumoaste o lirk SIMIMIAS Fireste SOCRATE Pe de alt& parte stii bine ce se 1 cu indrdgostifii cind vid 0 lird sau 0 tunica sa stie ce alt lucru de care tinerii Jor prieteni se folose in mod obisnuit : percep lira si totodata igi reprezinta cu mintea imaginea biiatului cliruia fi aparfine. Acest jucru_reprezinté’ 0 reamintize; la fel cind cineva, vazindw-l pe Simmiss, isi aminteste, de cele mai multe aga, 1 Socksty Nu pi se pare ch in astiel de situay yorba de o reamintite? $i indeosebi in cazmti cind ¢ care, datoritd timpului si pierder vasind desenul unui cal sau al tnei fire, testi de un om sau ca, vazind portretul lui Simmias, sA-fi reamintesti de Cebes @” SOAS E intrn totul cu puting. 15, ca, vazind portret i Susi Simm! pot sa fie atit asemén: SIMMIAS Reese. sOCRATE Ins& cind ne reamintim ceva pornind devia o realitate aseminitoare mu-i aja c& ne gindim neapirat sf daci, din punctul de vedere al asemin ceva. numit egalitate, ca alt bi, ori ate pietre cu altd piatri, acest fel, Ci altceva, ceva de dincoto de toate cae concrete, egalitatea in sine. Putem sav nu sus fine existenja unei astfel de realitiji? SDMIAS Putem si incé cum SOCRATE Si stim oare gi ce este ca in sine 7? SPIMIAS De bun’ seamé. inta aceasta de unde 0 avem?** ‘pornind Ja ele? Sau_ poate? jeste-te atunci ca iste pietre sau niste bucifi ‘de Jemn cgale intse 18FLATON. ele s4 para, raminiad cle ogale, anuia egale, neegale altcuiwa ? SIMMIAS Ba, desigur, se intimplé. SOCRATE Si-atuncea fie ceiti sa parut: ch Jucrn- megale, sau c& egalitatea este inegalA 227°. simaitas Pind acum niciodata. Re xm Prin urmare obiettele egale de care vor- si cgalitatea in sine du sint anul si acclasi SIMGEIAS Din cite mi SOCRATE Si totusi asa 0%, pomind de fa aceste obiecte egale, diferite de egalitatea insési, si conceput $i dobindit stiinta despre aceasta din urmi? SHMIAS Nimica mai adevirat!™. SOcRATE Ea flind fie asemfnAtoare fie nease- ‘toare lor? stntas Tntocmai, SOCRATE Prin urmare asemZnarea sau neasemi- je: Atita vreme cit vede- i ne gindim la altul, aflim in fata unui caz pare mie, nicidecusn, smmmas Chiat aga. SOCRATE Mai departe alte obiecte egale de care a fost vorba adineaori astra este ci ele sint egale pe potriva cau befel 1 celor- int ele sau nu inferioare®* eg lor de aseminare cu aceasta “0 asemenea situafie putem lui implicd in mod necesar de catre el a realitss cadea de acord ca spu: © cunoastere prealabi care spune cl ci se aseamiind objectul veut, dar de care obiectul acesta rimine’ inferior 721 mias In mod necesar. 6 Pppibon SOCRATH Sine ne-am gusit noi in acceasi situatic in legiturs ca obiectele egale si cu egelitatea tn sine? stnaas Intocmei, SOCRATE Rezulth cd noi trebuie neapfrat si cunoseut egalitatea inainte de momentul in care, ‘avind pentra prima oar’ sigte obiects egale, ne-asi formas ideca ch toate acestea doar nizuie s& se iden- ‘lice cu egalitates, dar miciodat’ xu izbutesc pe deplint”*. snadas Asa rezult’. sockat# Atunci putem cidea de acord 51 asupta faptului c& ideea aceasta mi nea formet-o si nici a ne-o putem forma altfel decit prin viz, prin pip’- it ori prin vreun alt simp, cici ceea ce spun Hi se aplica deopotriva tuturor??. SIMMISS. Intr-adevir, muicar prin raport Je fel argumentirii noastre, tuturor deopotriva. SOCRATE Oare din asta nu zezulta insi ci ideca despre nazuinja mereu insuficient realizati_a obiec- tului acestor senzafii de a se identifi ne-o formiin bizuindu-ne pe senzafiile insele! SIMMIAS Ba chiar asa rezult’. SOCRATE Atunci ‘cumoasterea egaliti ‘buie s-0 fi dobindit noi cumva inc% inaiute de a incepe sh vedem, si aucim si s& perce celelaite simpuri™% Altfel na am putea sé raportim la e2 egalitafile percepute prin simfuri, spunindi-ne ci toate aspira si se identifice cu ea si c& toate ti min infetioare. : ‘SIMMAS Din cele spuse mai ineinte, uu are cum si fie altfel, Socrate SOCRATH Dar nu incepem noi sé vedem, s auzim, si simtim cu celelaite simfuri imediat te SDMAUAS Ba chiar imediat. admitemcd eram in posesia SDAMIAS Aga. mise pare simi n Be2a PuATON SOCRATE Or, dack am dobindit aceasta canoas- tere inainte de a ne nagte si ne-am nlscut cu eat, inseamnd, nu-i aga, cd si inainte de nasterea noastra gi imediat dup& ea noi am stiut® ce sint nu doar egalitatea, mai marele, mai micul, ci si toate cite sint de acest fel. Cici ce vorbim noi acum wu se refer’ deloc mai mult la egalitatca decit ia irumusetea in sine, la dreptatea si sfinfenia in sine, Ja tot ce, asa cum spuneam, poate purta, atit cind punem intrebari it si cind dim raspunsuri™®, pecete de ,,realitate in Asticl c& ce am spus despre egalitate sintem obligefi s& spunem despre toate: ch le cunoastem dinainte de-a ne naste, SIMGAS Asa e. SOcRATE Atunci, de vreme ce am dobindit cunoas- terea lor mainte de a ne naste, inseamnd ci, daci uu 0 uitam Ja fiecare dintre dasterile noastre, ne nastem mereu stiindu-le si stiindute trim toatt viata. Dar a sti: odati ce ai dobindit cunoas- So pistrezi sisi no pierzi. S oare nu numim uitere tocmai asta, Simmias : pierderea a ceca ce stiam 78 SIMMIAS Este intocmai cum 2ici tu, Socrate. SOCRATE Pe de alta parte, zic eu, dac& pierdem nastere stiinta dobindits inainte de'ea si apoi, exe citindu-ne simfurile asupra obiectelor corespunzd- toare, redobindim cunostinfele care au fost cindva ce numim ,,2 invita” au repres indirea proprici noastre stiinje ?* nitea da pe drept cuvint acestel redo- Dinditi numele de reamintire 228 smumias De bund seama socraTe Intr-adevir, aia considerat ca posibil ca tn om care percepe tin obiect prin viz, prin auz sau prin vreun alt simf si conceapa meutal, por: de Ia el, o alta realitate, pe care o ui ne-am niscut cu tofii stiind acel si le stim dea Tungul intr 8 -cursul viet, ‘part zeaminti”™, srusite, negresit. sHutori saw ne reamiotim tn cursti viefii locrus ‘Guror cunoastere 0 dobindisem inainte dea ne nagte? SPAMS Pentra moment, Socrate, pu mi vid in leg, Se caus ta } Abunci iat’ un Iuctu asupra canta ‘te poti hotéri, asupra clruis esti ia mBsuri simi spul pirerea ta? im om care stie aiste Tucruri poate sa dea seami de ele sau un? SBAGAS Hotlrit 0% da, : : SOCKATE Si socotesti cA toaté Inmea in stare si dea socoteal de: realitatile despre care am vor noi pin adimeaori 22 SiOMras Tare ag vrea si cred, dar 51 tem ci miine Je aceasti ori nu va pamint in stare cu adevlrat 5-0 SOCRATE Prin urmare, Simmias, ta cfezi ch au toatd tumea are stiinfa fucrurilor acestora. SMAGAS Nu, nu toatd Iumea, departe de asta SOCRATE Dar toat& lumea c capabila si-si amin teased ceea cea stint odata 7” stuatias Negresit. S SOCRATE §{ cind au dobindit aceasti cum sufletele noastre 2 Doar mu dup ce ne-am a oamenie SIMMIAS Desigur au, sockaTe Atuncea inainte? smomas Da. socaats Prin urmare, existan si inainte de a se afl existan desparfite de trap $ de-a gindi®*®, SHOTAS Darna putem noi oare dobindi despre care este vorba in ceasul nasterii are ma ni pe as, sufletele noastre fr acest chip uman, estate cu puterea astre, Socrate? Este un interval de timp rémes posibil. SOCRATH Nimic de zis, iubite prieten, numai:ci, spune-mi, cind 0 pierdem, moment 2% Cit de nasctit cu ea abia am convenit ch nu ne nastem- 79 aFLATON © pierdem oare chiar in clipa dobindisii ei? © pierdem alti dati, pofi si spui tn dud? sniagas Nu, au, Socrate, imi dau abla acum sea- mack am spus un lucmn fara SockaTR Tats atunci, Simm: ajuns dezbaterea noastri : daci realitatile de care noi vorbim mere: frumusefes, binele si toate celelalis de acelasi ordin existh cu adevlirat ; dacd, descope- tind c& aceste realitayi, desi anterioare nou’, ne apar- fineau, noi raportim Ja ele toate datele simpurilor moastre ; si daci, in sfirgit, este adevérat ci datele simfurlior noi Je comparim cu realitijile acclea, atunci rezulti in chip neceser cA stfletele noastre exist dinaintea nasterii noastre exact in mésura fa care aceste realitafi existd, iar daci ele nu existé zadarnic am mai invocat argumentul acesta?®*, Intr- adevar, nu fi se pare ch Incrurile stau aga, cdi este in egali. mAsuri necesar’ si existenja acestor realititi si existenja dinaintea nasterii a sufletelor noastre, c& daca nu exista unele nici celelaite nu exist astfel? smanras Da, Socrate, nu incape mici 0 indoiala c& necesitatea € aceeasi. Tar a condifiona existenta sufle- noastre inainte de nastere de cxistenfa realiti: lor de care vorbesti este o fericita reducere a argu mentului, cci mi se pare c& aimic nn e mai evident decit-ed toate lucrurile. de acest fel, frumusetea, bi- si toate cel despre care vorbeai tu adinea- ori au o existen}a cit se poate de reala, Astfel cd, intru cit ma priveste, demonstratia este suficie SOCRATE Dar Cebes ce zice el oare? Caci si pe el se cade 8-1 convingem. SDOMHAS Cred cé demonstratia a fost suficientat*? sipentrn el, desi nu este om pe lume care <& se iase i convins#®, Totusi cred cd, in ce priveste inainte de nastere a sufletului nostra, con- iui este deplin’. In schimb ci el er continua s& existe si dup% ce murim, Socrate, asta ou imi pare inci demonstrat, Rimine incl neinlaturaté teama omului de aceea clreia mai adineaori insusi Cebes ia dat. glast®, si anume c& odati cu moartea unui om sufletul i se risipeste si cA astfel isi gaseste 0 brtapow capit existenta ivi’, Intr-adevir, ce ne impiedica si admitem c& sufletul cc naste gi se constituie undeva in alt parte si cA exist inainte dee veni intraun corp omenesc, dar cl apof, cind se desparte de acesta, plere sicl, gusindu-si sfirsitul 2 cabps Ai dreptatc, Simmias. Se pare, intr-adevis, ¢& din intreaga demonstrajie necesari avem doar jumitate: s-a dovedit numai ca suiletal nostra existi inainte de nagterca noastri. Mai rimine de dovedit cx sufletul existi deopotriva si dupa ce marim. Abia atunel demonstratie ere sii Ge completat™, SocraT® Dar o aveti complet inci de acum, Simmias si Cebes, numai £4 vreti si imbinasi prezentul argument cu cel anterior, asupra cruia noi am clzut de acord, si anume cA tot ce ¢ viu se naste din ce este mort. Intr-adevar, dac& sufletul exista inainte de nastere si dack intrarea Ini in viafi, nasterea lui, na poate avea, in chip necesar, origine decit moartea si starea de moarte, nu tot in chip necesar trebuie el si existe si dupi moarte de vreme ce urmea- zi s& se nascl din nou? Tat’ demonstrafia, cum 2i- ceam, gata ficuti®, Totus imi inchipai ctu si cu Simmias afi fi bucurosi si mai aprofundim pufin $i demonstratia aceasta’. CAci imi plrefi cuprinsi, copi- Hareste, de teamaci, pur i simple, cind iese sufletul din trup, il ia sil suffi vintul, risipindu-] {ar urma, indeos Se intimpli ca cineva si moard nu pe vreme linistita, ci in-bitaia unui mare vint?*. SEEES (simbind) Atunci, Socrate, incearcl si ne linistesti cu argumente aga cum ne veri c& sintem prada fricii. Sau mai degrabé nu pe noi, clici spaima nu-i a noastri, ci parc a copilului rimas cumva in noi : pe el te strdduieste si-1 convingi si nu se teamis% de acest bau-bau*’?, de moarte. SOCRATE Numai ci va trebui si-1 descintafi in ficcate 2it*, pink Ja vremea cind i-o trece de sperictur’, CERES $i de unde sE-l Inim, Socrate, pe des ttorul minunat ce vindecd de spaime®, di dack tu ne parisesti? SOCRATE O, Cebes, Grecia ¢ mare, nu duce lipsd ea de oameni inzestrafi, si-apoi mai sint 5 a 70egiptenii. Regele |-a intrebat atunci asupra folosului pe care l-ar aduce fiecare dintre artele acestea, 5i in timp ce zeul dadea limuriri asupra fiecdreia in parte, regele avea cuvinte de lauda pentru una, pentru alta nu, dupa cum fiecare arti ii pirea bund sau, dim- potriva, de nici un folos. Multe, zice-se, au fost observatiile pe care Thamus i le-a facut ui Theuth asupra fiec&reia dintre aceste arte, fie in bine, fie in au; dar ar insemna sa nu mai terminam povestind touul de-a fir a par. Au ajuns, iata, la litere, ¢i Theuch a spus: ,Priveste, rege, stiinta aceasta ii va face pe egipteni mai intelepti si mai cu tinere de minte; gisit a fost leacul uitarii si, deopotriva, al nestiin- tei.“ La care regele a raspuns: ,Preapricepute mes- ter Theuth, unul e chemar sa nascd arte, altul si judece cit anume dintr-insele e pigubitor sau de folos pentru cei ce se vor sluji de ele. Tu, acum, ca parinte al literelor, si de dragul lor, le-ai pus in seami tocmai contrariul a ceea ce pot face ele. Caci serisul va aduce cu sine uitarea in sufletele celor care-I vor deprinde, lenevindu-le tinerea de minte; punindu-si credinta in scris, oamenii isi vor aminti din afars, cu ajutorul unor icoane striine, si nu dinlauntru, prin cazna proprie. Leacul pe care tu L-ai gisit nu e facut sa invirtoseze tinerea de minte, ci doar readucerea aminte. Cit despre intelepciune, invayiceilor t4i tu nu le dai decit una parelnici, $1 nicidecum pe cea adevarati. Dupa ce cu ajutorul tu vor fi aflat o gramadi de prin cérti, dar fara si i primit adevarata invatacura, ei vor socoti ci sint ingelepti nevoie mare, cind de fapt cei mai multi n-au nici macar un gind care sé fie al lor. Unde mai pui c& sint si greu de suportat, ca unii ce se cred ‘ingelepgi fara de fapt si fie.“ Plazes c gral, A. Cotmea) MITUL PESTERII (Republica 514a~519d) »Mai departe — am zis — asemuieste firea noas- tra in privinta educatiei si a lipsei de educatie cu urmatoarea intimplare: iati mai multi oameni aflati intr-o incdpere subpaminteana, ca intr-o pester crei drum de intrare da spre lumina, drum lung faya de [lungimea] intregului pesterii. In accasti inc&pere ci se gasesc, inca din copilarie, cu picioa- rele si grumazurile legate, astfel incit trebuie si stea Jocului si s& priveascd doar inainte, fara si poatd sa-si roteasca capetele din pricina legaturilor. Lu- mina le vine de sus si de departe, de la un foc aprins inapoia lor; iar intre foc si oamenii legati, este un drum asezat mai sus, de-a lungul cdruia, iat’, e zidit un mic perete, asa cum este paravanul scamatorilor, pus dinaintea celor ce privesc, deasupra ciruia isi arata ei scamatoriile.., »Vad* — spuse el. » ++ Mai incearca si vezi si c&, de-a lungul aces- tui perete, niste oameni poarti diferite obiecte care depasesc in inaltime zidul, mai poarti si statui de oameni, ca si alte fapturi de piatra sau Jemn, lucrate in chipul cel mai divers. Iar dintre cei care le poarti, unii, cum e gi firesc, scot sunete, alii pastreazd ticerea.“ »Ciudat imagine si ciudati sint oamenii legati!* 93Sint asemanatori noua — am spus. Caci crezi ci astfel de oameni au vazut, mai intii, din ei insigi, cit $i din sogii lor, altceva decit umbrele care cad, arun- cate in foc, pe zidul de dinaintea lor“ Cum ar putes vedea alvceva — spuse el — dacd intreaga viata sint siliti sa-si tind capetele nemis- cate?“ »Dar ce ar putea vedea din obiectele purtate? Oare nu tot acelasi lucru“ : Bun, si? »lar daca ei ar fi in stare si stea de vorba unii cu altii, nu crezi c& oamenii nostri ar socoti ca, numind aceste umbre, pe care le vad, ei numesc realitatca ?* »Necesar.* »Si ce-ar face daci zidul de dinainte al inchisorii ar avea un ecou? Cind vreunul dintre cei ce trec ar emite vreun sunet, crezi cd ei ar socoti emisiunea sunetului iscata find de altceva, in afara umbrei ce le trece pe dinainte?* »Pe Zeus, — rispunse el — nu cred!“ ain general, deci — am spus eu — asemenea oa- meni nu ar putea lua drept adevar decit umbrele lucrurilor.* »E cu torul obligatoriu. »Priveste acum in ce fel ar putea fi dezlegarea lor din lanturi si vindecarea de lipsa lor de minte, daca asa ceva le-ar sta in fire: atunci cind vreunul dintre ei s-ar pomeni dezlegat si silit, deodati, si se ridice, sa-si roteasca grumazul, si umble si sa priveasci spre lumin: imi , facind el toate acestea, ar felul de dureri, iar din pricina straluei a-ar putea privi acele obiecte, ale ciror umbre le vazuse mai inainte. Ce crezi cf ar zice, daca cineva i-ar spune ci ceea ce vazuse mai inainte erau degertaciuni, dar ci acum se afli mai aproape de 4 Ceea-ce-este $i c&, intors cdtre ceea-ce-este in mai mare masura, vede mai conform cu adevarul? Ip plus, daci, aritindu-i-| pe fiecare dintre obiectele purtate, lar sili, prin intrebari, 9a raspunda ce anume este Iucrul respectiv? Nu crezi cd el sar Putea afla in incurcaturi si cé ar putea socoti cd cele vazute mai inainte erau mai adevirate decit cele ardtate acum? »Ba da.“ »lar daca L-ar sili sf priveascd spre lumina insisi, nu erezi ca |-ar durea ochii si cd ar da fuga indarat, intorcindu-se spre acele lucruri pe care poate si le vada si le-ar socoti pe acestea, in fapt, mai sigure decit cele aratate ?* »Chiar asa!“ »Dar daca cineva ar smulge ou forta din lo- cuinta aceasta, ducindu-l pe un suis greu si pieptis nedindu-i drumul pina ce nu lar fi tras la lumins soarelui, oare nu ar suferi si nu s-ar minia cae tras? Tar cind ar iesi la soare, au i s-ar umple ochii de strilucire, astfel incit nu ar putea vedea nimic din lucrurile socotite acum adevirate ?* »Nc-ar putea, cel putin indata, si le vadal® — grii el. »Cred ci ar avea nevoie de obignuinta, daca ar fi ca el si vada Iumea cea de sus. lar mai intii, el ar vedea mai lesne umbrele, dupa aceea oglindirile oamenilor si ale celorlalte lucturi, apoi lucrurile ele insele. In continuare, i-ar fi mai ugor si priveasca in timpul noptii cea ce e pe cer si cerul insusi, privind deci lumina stelelor sia hunit mai curind decit, in timpul zilei, soarele si lumina sa.“ »Cum de nu! »La urm:, | va privi soarele, nu in api, niei reflexiite sc alloc strain, ci l-ar putea vedea 95sicontempla, asa cum este, pe cl insusi, in locul sau propriu.” »Necesar.* ~Dupi aceasta, ar cugeta in legatura cu soarele, cum c& acesta determin’ anotimpurile si anii, cd ¢l cirmuieste totul in humea vizibila, fiind cumva ras- punzitor si pentru toate imaginile acelea, vazute de ei [in pestera].” : »E clar cd aici ar ajunge, dupa ce va fi strabatut toate celelalte etape.“ a Ei, si nu crezi ci dacd omul acesta si-ar aminti de prima sa locuinta, de intelepcinnea de acolo, ca de partasii si la lanfuri, el s-ar socoti pe sine fericit de pe urma schimbarii, iar de ceilalti i-ar fi mila? Cu totul,” lar dacd la ei ar exista laude si cinstiri $i s-ar da rasplata celui mai ager in a vedea umbrele ce trec alituri si care isi aminteste cel mai bine cele ce, de obicei, se preceda, se succeda, sau trec laolalta, si care, in temeiul acestor observatii, ar putea cel mai bine s& prezica ce urmeazi in viitor sd se mai in- timple, i se pare oare ca omul nostra ar putea si pofteasca rasplatile acelea si si-i invidieze pe cei onorati la ei si aflati la putere? Sau ar simfi ce spune Homer, voind nespus mai degrabd argat sa fie pe pamint la cineva neinsemnat, sdrman $i fard de stave, consimtind sa pata origice mai degraba decit si aiba parerile de acolo si sa traiasc4 in acel chip ?* wAga cred — zise el. Ar voi sa pateascd orice mai curind decit s4 traiasca in acel chip.“ »Mai gindeste-te si la urmatorul aspect: daci, iardsi, acel om, coborind, s-ar ageza in acelagi scaun de unde a plecat, oare nu ar avea ochii plini de in- tunecime, sosind deodara dinspre lumea insorita?“ »Ba da“ — zise. 6 nlar daci el ar trebui din nou ca, interpretind umbrele acelea, sa se ia la intrecere cu oamenii ce au rimas totdeauna legati si daci ar trebui s-o faci chiar in clipa cind nu vede bine, fnainte de a-si obis- nui ochii, iar daca acest timp cerut de reobisnnire ‘nu ar fi cu totul scurt, oare nu ar da el prile) de ris? $i nu s-ar spune despre el ci, dup ce s-a urcat, a revenit cu vederea coruptd si ci deci nici nu merita si incerci a sui? Iar pe cel ce incearci si-i dezlege si si-i conduca pe drum in sus, in caz cf ei ar putea si pund miinile pe el si sé-! ucida, oare nu Lear ucide?" Ba chiar asa." plata, draga Glaucon, — am spus eu — imaginea care trebuie, in intregime, pusi in legiturd cu cele zise mai inainte: domeniul deschis vederii ¢ asemanator cu locuinta-inchisoare, lumina focului din ea — cu puterea soarelui. Lar dacd ai socoti ur- cugul si contemplarea lumii de sus ca reprezentind suisul sufletului catre locul jnteligibilului, ai in- telege bine ceea ce eu nidajduiam si spun, de vreme ce asa ceva ai dorit si asculti. Daci nadejdea aceas- ta ¢ indreptatita, Zeul o stie. Opiniile mele insi acestea sint, anume ci in domeniul inteligibilului, mai presus de toate este ideea Binelui, ci ea este anevoie de vazut, dar ci, odata vazut’, ea trebuie conceputi ca fiind pricina pentru tot ce-i drept gi frumos; ea zémisleste in domeniul vizibil lumina si pe domnul acesteia, iar in domeniul inteligibil, chiar ea domneste, pro- ducind adevar si intelect; si iardsi cred ci cel ce voieste sé facd ceva cugetat in viata privata sau in cea publici, trebuie s-o contemple." »Sint de aceeasi parere — spuse el — in felul tn care pot,“ 7»Atunei fii de acord i cu lucrul ce urmeaza si nu te mira ca cei care ajung aici nu vor si se indelet- niceasca cu afacerile omenesti, ci, mereu, sufletele lor cata in sus, fapt firésc daca aceasta se intimpla dupa chipul imaginii infaisate mai inainte.* »E firese.“ »Dar crezi ci e de mirare daca cineva, sosind de Ja contemplarea divinului la cea a lucrurilor ome- esti, se poarta cum nu trebuie gi se face de ris, avind wolves inca slaba? Ti se pare de mirare ci, inainte de a se obisnui indestulator cu bezna din lumea de aici, este silit, pe la tribunal sau pe aiurea, sa se confrunte cu umbrele dreptatii, sau cu statuile de la care provin umbrele si si se ia [a intrecere cu altit in legaturd cu acest subiect siin felul in care sint ingelese toate acestea de citre oameni ce n-au VAzut niciodata dreptatea insasi 2“ Nu ance dela de mirare.“ »Dar daca lumea ar avea minte, si-ar aminti c& exista doua feluri de slabire a vederii, provenind de la dou feluri de pricini: 0 dati a celor ce vin de la lumina la intuneric, apoi, ale celor ce vin de la in- tuneric la lumina. Ar putea atunci gindi ca acelasi Iucru se petrece si cu sufletul, atunci cind I-ar vedea tulburat si incapabil sa vada ceva; n-ar trebui si rida necugetat, ci s-ar cédea si cerceteze daci nu cumva, yenind sufletul de la o viati mai luminoasa, nu ¢ patruns de intuneric datorita neobisnuintei; sau daca, dimpotriva, sosind de la mai multi nestiinga inspre o viaté mai luminoasi, nu s-2 umplut de 0 mai mare stralucire. Astfel, pe cel dintii lar socoti fericit pentru ceea ce i s-a intimplat i pentru ceea ce a tr&it, in timp ce pe celalale l-ar socoti vrednic de mili. Tar daca totusi ar voi si ridi de acesta din urmé, ar fi mai putin ridico] si rida de el, decit de cel care soseste de sus, de la lumina. 98 | | »Foarte corect cea ce spui. »Aga ceva trebuie sa cugetim despre aceste suflete, daca ideile noastre sint adevarate. $i si nu socotim ci educatia este ceea ce unii pretind ci ea este: intr-adevar, ei sustin c& pot aseza stiinga intr-un suflet tn care ea au se afla, ca si cind ar da vedere ochilor orbi.“ Da, ei sustin asa ceva. »Discutia noastra arata insi — am spus eu — ci, dup’ cum ochiul mu e in stare si se intoarci spre stralucire dinspre intuneric, decit laolalta cu intreg corp, la fel aceasta capacitate prezenti in sufletv! fiecaruia, ca si organul prin care fiecare cunoaste, trebuie si se rasuceasca impreuni cu fntreg sufletul dinspre tarimul devenirii, pind ce ar ajunge sa pri- veasci la ceea-ce-este si la mareata lui stralucire Binele pe aceasta o numim, nu?* »Da.* plati deci arta « rasucirii »! Se pune problema in ce fel se va obtine transformarea cea mai rapida = mai eficace a sufletului. Nu-i vorba de a-i sidi sim- gul « vazului », ci de a-l face si « vada » pe cel ce are acest sims, dar nu a fost crescut cum trebuie si nic: nu priveste unde ar trebui.“ Asa se pare” — spuse. »Celelalte asa-zise virtugi ale suflevului par sa fic cumva apropiate de virtugile trupului — de fapr, ele ‘niu exista in el mai Snainte, ci doar mai tirziu apar in obiceiuri siin ocupatiile omului. Ins capacitatea de a cugeta are, mai degraba decit orice altceva, parte de ceva divin, pare-se, ceva care face ca ea si nu-si piarda purerea niciodaté. Numai ca ea poate deveni, dind urmare « rasucirii », ceva folositor si util, sau nefolositor si vatimitor. Ori n-ai observat la cei 99socotiti ticdlosi dar iscusiti, cd maruntul lor suflet ¢ ager la vedere i priveste cu ascutime scopurile spre care s-a indreptat, ca until ce nu are o vedere slabi, dar ¢ silit s& slujeasca riului, tnctt, cu cit ar fi mai ager la vedere, cu atit ar sivirsi mai multe raucati * »Ba da.“ Daca atunci s-ar tia inci din copilarie aceasti parte [rea] a suflecului, i s-ar taia atunci legaturile de rudenie cu devenirea, precum cu un plumb ne- vrednic, legaturi care, inclinind spre minciruri si pliceri de acest fel, spre bucuriile ospetelor, intorc in jos privirea stfletului. Or, daca s-ar indeparta de ele si s-ar intoarce catre adevar, aceeagi putere apar- tinind acelorasi oameni, |-ar vedea atunei cu multa agerime, le fel cum yede si lucrurile asupra cérora este acum indreptata.“ »E verosimil.“ »Dar nu e verosimil gi urmatorul ucru: nu este necesar, in temeiul celor de dinainte, ca nici cei ne- educati si lipsiti de experienta adevarului sa nu poati vreodat& cirmui ca himea cetatea, dar nici cei lisati sa-si consume pind la capat viaa in invataturd? Primii, deoarece duc lipsa unui principiu unic, pe care avindu-| in vedere, s faca tot ceea ce fac, in viaga privat gi in public; ceilalti, fiindcd de buna- voie nu vor actiona, socotind c4 au si ajuns sa viefuiasca in Insulele Fericitilor.* »Adevarat.“ »Este, prin urmare, sarcina noastra — am spus eu —acelor ce duram cetatea, sa silim sufletele cele mai bune si ajunga la invayatura pe care mai inainte am numit-o « suprema », anume sa vada Binele si sa intreprinda acel urcus, iar dupa ce, fiind sus, vor fi 100 privit indeajuns, sa nu li se ‘ingaduie ceea ce acum |i se ingaduie.” »Ce anume 2 Sa raming pe loc si si nu mai vrea si coboare indarat la acei oameni inlinguiti, nici si ia parte la greutatile si cinstirile lor, fie ca sint mai mult sau mai putin vrednice.“rumor’. Nw te opti, de este mai bun’ decit nedreptaten, ci aratine of este achuinea propric Hecireia, gelui ceo poseds, fi $A aIAH cll dreptetea PARTEA A ILA 1 Intotdennna pretuisem firea Addmentos ; ascultind insi atuaci cele spuse, fot peste msurd si am spes eloc Flu a compus iubitul Jai GI neclor vers elegiace despre voi barbat®, atunel clad ati cipitar faim in Evie dein Megara, zicind: 388 a Avista: mi pre, pricteni, cA stan iuerurile! Cici int-cdevir, ostru general de 2 fi, finde’, dack mas fi Inat- doar dupd vorbele voastre, ar fi fost loc de indo- dasi, cn cit mai malt sncot ‘ci. um accepiati teza pe care ai expus-o/ cx atit mei nedumerit fatish nu tin cum s& procedez. Caci, pe de o parte, nn vad cum si apar Greptates ; cred chiar cd mu sint in stare sk 0 fac — dovad’ cl n-afi acceptat ceea ee Fam spus lui Thresymachos, ca gindul o& S1ath superioritatea dreptijii asupra nedreptapii. Tosi, pe devaita parte, nicl mu pot s& no apér dreptates. Cach ma n palcat s& treci pe lings drep- Hit In noroi sf si ne Glancoo $i ceilalfi sprijin dreptetea ‘sim Ynuri geri in fel si chip 28 perisest disoufi 3 este fiecare dintre cele privintye folosulai 1369 a u Bato Spits doidar, int felul in care em vaeut ou idererile, urmdtoarel 2 yCercetarea de care ae apuciin este pe masure uaul om ou vederea ascufita iat nn rea, cred ex. Or, flinded noi fin aceast’ privinfl nu sintem prea’ gro zavi, cred cd ar trebel sd cercetim in felul armi- sh vicem c& i sar da cuiva, care mi ve: yrea bine, s& citeascl de departe niste litere ici si apoi altcineve ar big de seam cf ace isese si du alt loc, dar sai mari ins. Mare yi citease: Dar ce are #8 de dreptate, ca. Ne afizmim = Hispuase el. "Dar nu este mai mareo cetate decit un singur om »E mai mare” — rise. robabil, dar, c& intr-un loc mai mare ar incd- pea mai muléi dreptate si ar fi mai ugor de infeles. Deci, dack yi este pe plac, si cercetain mai intl in ce fel este dreptatea tn cetti. Si apoi si o priv si in indivizi, urmarind aseminarea cu clemeatni mai mare in inf§fisarea celui mai mic ‘Mi se pare c& vorbesti bine” — spuse ef. pAgadar — am zis en — dacd am privi cu tea apatiia unei cet@fi, am putea vedea cum naste si dreptatea si nedreptatea ci?” Si ine’ cum!" Dar oare, intimplindu-se aceasta, nar fi nidejde mai bund si vedem si ceea ce cButim?” olntre: totul.’”” i S-ar dice ch e cazul si porsim! Mi se pare cé ak pufind treab ne sti tnainte. Ultati-va !” ih DATA ASA noi sexm’, — zise Adedmantos — dar ta si im faci altminterea 0 cetate se maste, — ani ais ex — dup cite exed, deoarece ficcare distre noi nu este autonom, ci duce lipsé de amplte, On veri ci existh alta pricing stra bitemelenie nuck cetlfi 2” »Deloe alta” — vise ol. Astiel, flecare Ml accept’ pe un ai doilea, avindo-l in vedere pe un al treilea gf avind nevoie de al patmn- jar stringinds-se mulfi Intr-im singur loc spre i sia se intrajutore, ne fac sA dim sala- intocmal’®. ia, dock aga stan Iucrusi Haide deci — am spus ex — si intemeiem cu mintea, de la ineepnt, o cetate. Pe cit se pare, nevoia Dar prima si cea mai mare dintre nevoi este gurarea hranel in vederea existenfel si a vie{ii.” Absolut.” A doua este nevoia de locuinga, a treia cea de imbrieiminte i de cele asemunatoare.” Asa este.”” Si vedem cum va ajunge cetatea si le asi si pe cizmer $i Ingeijese de aevoil cctatea, redusi 1g esenfial, ar consta din cinel oameni.”* Aga se pare.” bine, mu trebuie ins ce Aeeare dintre onc wtmn patmn oameni si si cheltuiasca de patra ai mult timp si tradi pentru asigurare: we care o pune iy comun cu cellalti? Sa a ol si produc doar pentru sinenani ia pari si ard pentri: cba in mice cetate, vince fn o7as prea miare, dacd al adiuga si Gfesedton! de vite, pastori gi clobani, pentru ca § ‘pei la arat, precum si constructorii ge cindaude © 5 aibA Tink 5 le goale €) se celelalte cetafi — de Ja care urmeaz’ s& adueé cei o71 » cetlitii noastre — tot cu mi * “Brebuie, deci, ca cei de acasi sé product nu uma ig 5 | ; foe vorbi dl. 5 este aproape imposibil s& : t ncied loc unde si nu fie nevoie a : :portate,”” ‘ Sntr-adevar. ee ag ar dack omui insireinat cu drumul ar pl ; : cy mifinile goale, fri si poarte nimic din ce au nevoie $i fntoarce. Nu?” ‘Aga’ cred.” cantitisi de care alfii ar avea nevoie. satrebuie, ti gt acele tradev: atunci, sk avem i alpi onmeni, cu sazcine. sb care produs. Acestia sintcon 26 sLArON BepuaLICA PANTEA A ThA a is — dreptates are toti are se impune fetr-tn i de-tnde fe acest _principi 1s faci cen ce aflu 0 dovadi 7” de ceca ce fi aparfine?”” Nu, ci acest principia va fi avat i ‘Deoarece acest principiy este drept / vedere.” sd c& virtutea ra : dovedi ch drep- jeam cdutat in cetate — vit i dintre cele pe care “decit ceea ee € ject cera , campitarea si in- jelepeiunea — este accea care cece cu putintd ca cele. jalte sh ia flint si ca, odata aparute, sil se pastrexe ate ea S-ar afla acolo. Insi am afizmat ciamar, saw un ci ei ii schimba intre — am spus Sruia, of € dintre virtufile v cea mai mare misuri, bund, ar # anevoie de hotarit vatamata 2” dack aceea este buna fntelegere dintre conduedtor! saepunse 1: si condusi, ori plstrarea de cdtre osteni a unei repre- Dar 98 presupunem ch vreun mestesugar ori jaite privitoare la cele prim \reun altui care ia bani pentru munca sa, ce este tr intre in clasa riz- ic de bani, de c&tre mulfime, » Itceva aseminiitor ; sau s&_presu- 1 fAzboinic este nevrednic si fie slet- sip 1 cB sfetnicul gi ere ei sculele si cinsti int ¢ reprezinti cea mai mare spt asa ceva ar putea ee state cea mai mare fird-» flor si a celei a paznicilor — aceasta insearnnd ci fiecare fave in cetate cea ce fi apartine — ceva contrar atunci intr-alt fe! cetarea la care ‘ne-~am apuca sf pri lucrurile mai mari care o contin, ar © veut fa Tat de drep dreapti, va fel Task Acu: n dreptatea ce fel este ea ei cetatea a aparut a de firi existente e propriu; ea ireptajil s-ar verifica $ in camal in vom cidea atunci de acord asupra se, cei ce am miai avea de spus? Dac& au, vom cereeta si si ducem Ja capat cez- xamen. Cercetind astfel comparativ cele 495 a doud aspecte si vrecind putea degrabi sA facem sk de parca ar iebueni fox din de ituafiel examinate inainte? Near i ragia, dreptates ite dreapta 7” erutile = spuse el. mar produce ca 9 ani se par 2 sedea altminteri decit iri, ci, dacd aceast mai rounul din mai lesne de tr-un individ. Ni s-a pamut mares este o cetat stlind cl doar intr. ar afla Greptatea, Céea ce intoarcem privisile 5i spre verificarea, va am durat-o de celéicit, am eascl dreptatea, % Jemne eu — numit cing fila fel, i REHUALICA. PARTEA AIBA 319 comportiri alé ecclorasi clase yAdevarat” — zise ee ia fol, prictene, il vom vedea si pe in are accleasi aspecte in suflett™® jprecum cetatea] de aceleasi mume, precem in iii [ale acestor aninumat om, fie e& el are cele ‘rei pti, fle cf me wNu mi se pare nenorocit — spuse. Dealtfel, Socfate, probabil c& ¢ adevizat ce se spune ci @ Feu ce are pref.” : ae SivlParese © am spus eu, Credinga mea, insi, Glav- “este cl ae vom ajunge la un 1 aga de dorit? Mi e fap. Sk mie imi ve 2 Atunci nu te Tasa — spase el — ci cerceteazi |” E cu totul necesar, deci, 38 wvoial’ cB aceleasi aspecte gi ace dintre noi, ca si in cetate? Céci ele uu au venit aici, n alt parte. Ar de tot risul omul care sar gindi c& inflcdrarea at aparea in cetiji, Hird si proving de la indi rai se atri- it cei din ‘Tracia, fu general, cei dinspre miazinoapte. Dra- inviiturd ar putea fi, cel mei bine, pus&20 FLATON Is posedam pe flecare perp? Invéjim oare print prin alta dintre tt-0 parte, ne ele aflate in noi si pot plicerile procreatie: sj ‘Oni cu intreg sufletul Je si. ind ar fi si le savir- jon dacd aceleasi thi ax corespondi ie, sau dack cle distincte. co mai precis, pe: gind inainte, sé cddem in’ nesigu ar zice c& acelasi om sti, dar trebet spus ci se mised. Nu-i aga BEPIRICA, PAUIEA A HLA 2 2a cdel tn niet un fel au se deplaseazd — dar din panctal de vedere al celeiisite, ele se mised in cere. Jer ind obiectul si-ar deplasa pozifia se dteaptt, fic la stinga, fie la dreepta, fie Inainte, fle inapoi, totodath invirtinde-se, atanci, ici umn aspect, el au ar sta" — vorbi el dar, nici una dintre aceste spuse mu ne va i incurcitura si nici na ne va incredinja c& timiniid identic sub acclasi aspect si in Poate indura actiuni contrare, poate mntrare, sau poate face asemenca act Jucturile stan ase 4 clidem de ecord ci dack ele sar arta altiel deci sa tot ceca ce decutge se va ni "" Chiar aga trebnie facut ! Dar — am zis — a spune da, fat dea spune au, a dori si iei ceva, fafa de a refuza, a te servi de ceva, lagi de a respinge — pe toate acestea Je-ai putea socoti drept acjiuni contrare une alicia, fie ca sint Tacute ori indurate de cineva. C&ci si & pri Adicd, nu ai spune 4 tinde mereu spre acel Incrs pe care procurd Iuernl pe care doreste si-] c& intrucit yrea ca ceva sii njeazé siesi, dorin intreba dack il vr 478MITUL LUI ER (Republica 614b-621d) Nu igi voi — am zis ev — 0 istorie ca cele de la Alcinoos, ci pe cea a unui barbat viteaz, a lui Er, fiul lui Armenios, pamphyl de neam, El a fost rapus in razboi si, cind mortii au fost ridicati in a zecea zi, deja descompusi, el a fost ridicat fara semne de putrefactie. L-au adus acasd si-l inmorminteze, iar in a dowisprezecea zi, fiind agezat pe rug, a i 1 spus ce vizuse pe lumea cealaed. A zis: dupa ce a murit, sufletul siu, intovarasit de multe alte suflete, a plecat si toate au ajuns atr-un loc uimitor, unde se aflau dowd deschideri in pa- ‘mint care erau una ling’ cealalti, si, la fel, alte doua in cer in sus, de cealalta parte. Intre aceste deschi- deri erau agezati judecitori, care, dupa ce pronun- au sentinta, le porunceau celor drepti s4 0 apuce prin deschiderea din dreapta si din sus, din cer, punindu-le inainte insemnele faptelor judecate. Celor nedrepti Ie porunceau si se indrepte prin deschiderea de jos si din stinga, avind si aceste su- flete la spate, insemnele tuturor faptelor savirsite. Spunea Er cé, atunci cind el insusi s-a apropiat, is-a spus ci el trebuie sé fie un vestitor pentru oameni al tuturor intimplarilor de pe lumea cealalta, porun. cindu-i-se sf asculte si si priveasci ce se petrecea in acel loc. Ela vazut acolo a, prin fiecare deschidere 126 a cerului si a pimintului, treceau suflese, dupi ce erau supuse judecii. Prin celelalte doua deschi- deri, dintr-una se inalfau, din pamint, suflete pline de murdaric si pulbere, din cealalti se coborau, din cer, altele pure. Iar cele care soseau mereu, ardtau ca venind dintr-o hungi cdlatorie i, bucuroase, se in- dreptau spre un cimp, unde ip faceau salagul, cain zi de tirg. Tsi dideau binete unele altora, cite se i cereau sa afle — cele sosite din pamint, de la celelalte, despre ce era in cer, in timp ce sufletele sosite din cer voiau si stie despre lucru- rile din pamint. fsi voc povesteau unele altora, unele tinguindu-se si plingind, amintindu-si cite vizusera si pitiserd in drumul subpimintean — ce dureazi o mie de ani. Iar cele sosite din cer istoriseau buni- starea lor de acolo si pi nemisurat de fru- moase. Cele mai multe intimpliri, Glaucon, cer mult timp spre a fi povestite, dar — a zis Er — prin- cipalul este acesta: pentru toate nedreptitile si Virsite si pentru tozi oamenii carora le facuse un ru, Sufletul di seam, rind pe rind; pentru fiecare ne- dreprate — de zece ori. Aceasta inseamni cé fiecare pedeapsa are loc intr-un interval de o suté de ani, Fiinded atit de mare este viata omului, pentre ca pedeapsa indurata si fie inzeciti fai de nedreptate Spre pild’, daca vreunii s-au facut vinovati de moartea multora, ori au tradat ceti du-le in robie, ori au fost partasi la ei adund suferinte de zece ori mai mari pentru fiecare fapta; iar dacd uni au facut fapte bune si au fost drepti i portie: In ceea ce-i priveste pe cei care au trecut repede prin viata gi au trait putin, a spus lucruri ce ‘nu mai merita afi pomenite. lar in legatura cu impi- etatea si pietatea fati de zei si parinti, cit si in 127legaruré cu ucigasi, « povestit despre pedepse si raspligi inca si mai mari, A mai spus Er ci un suflet a fost intrebat de citre un altul: «Unde este marele Ardiaios?» Acest Ardiaios fusese tiran intr-o cetate din Pamphylia in urma cu o mie de ani. El il ucisese pe batrinul sau tata gi pe fratele mai in virsta si sivirsise ined multe alte frddelegi, dupa cum se povestea. Cel intrebat réspunse: « Nu vine si nu poate veni incoace. Caci intre priveligtile cumplite am vizut-o si pe aceasta: cind ne giseam aproape de deschidere, urmind si suim, dupa ce indurasem tot restul, I-am vizut pe Axdiaios, ca $i pe altii — majoritatea lor erau tirani, dar erau si citiva particulari grozav de picdtosi — ce socoteau ci vor putea urca. Numai cd deschiderea nu-i primea, ci scotea un urlet, atunei cind incerca sa sute unul dintre cei intr-atit de picdtosi ori care nu fusese pedepsit indeajuns. Tot acolo se mai aflau sinigte barbasi cumpliti, cu chip de foc, care, stind alituri si auzind urletul deschiderii, ti insfacau pe unii gi if minau [inapoi] in timp ce pe Ardiaios gi pe alti, legindu-i fedeles de miini, picioare si cap, zvirlindu-i la pimint si jupuindu-i, ii tirau pe lings drum, ii rineau prin spini si-i jupuiau; dar le ardtau sufletelor ce soseau mereu acolo, pentru care motiv. ficeau aceasta si cd aceia urmau si fie minati spre a cAdea in Tartar. » Spunea Er ci, desi erau multe si felurite spaime pe care le induraseri, aceasta era cea i 4 nu se audi urletul cind ar voi si suie Acestea erau unele din pedepsele si caznele, casi binefacerile opuse primelor. Dupa ce fiecare suflet stitea in cimpie sapte zile, trebuia ca, ridicindu-se, siplece de acolo in a opta zi. Ele ajungeau in a patra 128 zi intr-un loc unde se vedea o lumina intinsa de sus de-a lungul intregului cer si pamint, ca 0 coloana, asemanatoare cel mai mult cu curcubeul, doar ci mai strilucitoare si mai pura. In dreptul ei, sufletele ajungeau dupa un drum de 0 zi gi acolo vedeau, intinzindu-se, in mijlocul luminis, capetele leg’- i i aceasta lumina prinde laolalta cerul, precum funiile ce leagi 0 cora~ bie, ginind astfel laolalta intreaga bolta rotitoare. lar de capete era prins fusul Necesitaqii, prin care se sivirgesc toate revolugiile. Osia acestuia si dintele erau de diamant, in timp ce roata fusului era al- cAruitd dintr-un amestec de diamant si de alte mate- vii, Tar natura ropii fusului este in felul urmitor: forma ei este aidoma uneia din lumea noastra; ins trebuie avute in vedere gi parpile din care el spunea ci se compune roata fusului: ea era ca i cind intr-o roati mare concavi, scobita pretutindeni, s-ar gsi o alta roata mai micé, ajustati in prima, precum sint utile incastrate una intr-alta; si tot aga, mai era gi © a treia roati, apoi o a patra si incd alte patru. Caci opt erau toate rotile, asezate unele intr-altele. Privite de deasupra, marginile lor apareau ca niste cercuri, in timp ce in partea opusi apireau ca o sin- gura roati continua, in jurul osiei. Aceasta trecea prin mijlocul celei de-a opta rot _sribatind-o dintr-o parte intr-alta. Roata dintii si cea mai din afar aveau cercul marginal cel mai lat, roata 2 sasea avea cercul a cérui latime venea pe locul doi, la cea de-a patra, latimea era pe locul trei, la 2 opta — pe Jocul patra, la a saptea — pe locul cinci, la a cincea — pe locul gase, la a treia — pe locul sapte gi la a doua — litimea ce venea pe locul opt. Mal celui mai mare cere era felurit colorat’, culoarea cercului al saptelea era cea mai strilucitoare, 129culoarea cercului al optulea avea culoarea celui de-al saptelea care il lumina; culorile celui de-al doitea si al cincilea erau aseminatoare intre ele, mai galbui decit celelalte, al treilea avea culoarea cea mai alba, al patrulea — 0 culoare rosiatic’, al saselea avea © albeaté ce venea pe locul doi. Fusul se invirtea, rotindu-se cu totul, cu o juteala constanta; iar in intregul rotitor, cele sapte cercuri interioare sivir- seau incet o rotatie contrara intregului. Dintre cle, cel mai repede se rotea cercul al optulea, in al doilea rind si cu o migcare identica, veneau cercul al sapt lea, al saselea si al cincilea; cu o viteza ce venea in treilea rind se migca, pe cit li se parea, cercul al patrulea, antrenat intr-o migcare retrograda; cu 0 vitez& ce venea pe locul patru se invirtea cercul al treilea si cu una venita pe locul cinci — cel de-al doilea. Tar fusul se rotea pe genunchii Neces Deasupra, pe fiecare dintre cercuri, sedea cite Sirend care se rotea o dati cu el si care ficea si se audi o voce si un ton. Résuna deci impreuni, da- toriti celor opt Sirene, o armonie. Mai existau inci trei femei, asezate de jur-imprejur, la distante egale, fiecare asezata pe cite un tron. Ele erau Moirele, fiicele Necesititii, imbricate in alb, purtind cununi pe crestet — Lachesis, Clotho si Atropos. Si ele z & g g s & B ° 5 3 338 Book One ss nee Lean : found in Sparshott, “Socrates and Thrasymachus’, Monitt 1966. Macguire, in ‘Thrasymachus.. oF Plato?’, Phronesis 1971 defends the view that no coherent can be attributed to Thrasymachus because Ioxng up the views ofthe historical ‘Thrasymachus with hie ‘own. Henderson in American Phil t Quarter 2 a Chapter 3 ‘The Form of Plato’s Argument Atthe start of Book 2 Plato makes clear his dissatisfaction with the methods of Book s. Glaucon says that he is unhappy with the way that Thrasymachus has been reduced to silence, claiming that he had been ‘bewitched’ into giving up (358b2— 3). Glaucon himself and his brother Adeimantus restate forcefully the challenge that they realize has been posed; they do not themselves believe that injustice pays and that appeals only to the foolish, but they appreciate the intellectual power ofthe thesis, and demand at length that Socrates answer the problem more satisfactorily (357a~358d). Socrates’ response ‘constitutes the rest of the Republic. ‘This opening passage is important for several reasons. It is of interest dramatically, for it attaches the ‘Socratic’ Book 1 to the rest of the Republic and makes clear what the rest of the discussion will be like. Because the brothers are fundamentally ‘on Socrates’ side, the question for truth is now removed from ‘the area of competitive argument, and becomes the object of a longer, cumulative, and co-operative enquiry. This may lessen the dramatic tension, but it increases our sense of the size and importance of the problem. But the passage is most important because it shows us vividly right at the start how distinctive is the form of Plato’s reasoning. i we would call a moral argument. Glaucon begins by guishing three kinds of good things, and raising the question of where, in this division, justice belongs. The distinction is important, and must be set out in full (957b-d) ‘Tell me, do you think there is» kind of good which we welcome not because we desire its consequences but for its own sake: joy, for example, and all the60. The Form of Plato's Argument harmless pleasures which have:no further consequences beyond the joy whi onesie hae Tale, he he an wc me wlan bo ors comequences, knowledge for erarople and sight ane sc onchow ween cine he ‘hese are wearisome but beneficial to us; we shonld not want them lo them. (Grobe) own sake, but because of the rewards and other benefits swhich sexult For ‘The division then is: things we find desirable things we find desirabl consequences (3)_things we find desirable only for their consequences, laucon and Socrates agree that most people would put into the third class, the goods pursued and found d le only for their consequences: they do not think that justice itself has anything to recommend it. They themselves both agree that justice belongs in the lass, the second, among things like health, (Much is later to be made of the comparison of justice with he But neither has scen any good argument to show that this is so. The brothers now expand, in two long speeches, on what such an argument must show. But before considering the speeches, it is worth pausing over the threefold division itself, Nobody questions either the nature of the threefold division, or the ready agreement that justice belongs in the second class and that this is the ‘fairest’ of the three. Yet a i shows that this isa very different kind of assum would be granted at the start of most moder themselves themselves and for their but he also does not seriously to be chosen without regard fo consequences. And so without hesitation Socrates takes up ground which is widely regarded as untenable by both sides in a great many modern discussions of justice, A modern moral philosopher, trying to show someone that they ought to choose to be just rather than unjust, is likely assume that the argument must take one of two forms: deontological oF consequentialist. (1 am using these terms here as The Form of Plato's Argument 61 ‘for kinds of moral argument, n complete moral s; anid T consider only what : - 1.) In a deontological argument, justice, if itis to ended from a moral (as opposed to a prudential or self ‘point of view, is to be shown to be something one ‘choose regardless of consequences, For on this view the rly moral appeal of justice must come from its own nature, fom anything it can offer in the way of consequerices. The trast tends to be stressed in deontological terms by saying ‘whatever the consequences, itis our duty or ebligation to be Plato (revealingly) has no terms that answer happily to the tions of moral duty and obligation; but the point can be put in wn terms by sayi Plato's argument is a deontological ¢ t justice in the frst class, goods desirable for themselves without regard to their consequences. Infact Plato “seems, judging by the examples, to have thought this class ofview. And by firmly ‘consequences as, hat his argument For in a deontological argument ho ‘consequences of justice could give one a moral reason to pursue it. Indeed, many who perceive this, but think that a moral argument must be a deontological one, have thought that the entire Republic is a mistake, and that Plato, in showing us chat justice is desirable for its consequences, particularly happines, is ‘giving us a reason to be just all right, but not a moval one. Plato of course does not recommend justice only for its consequences put in the second class and not the third. But in a deontological ‘argument consequences cannot play any ole in a moral justification; to show that justice is desirable ‘in itself and for its consequences" is to offer a confused mixture of moral and non-moral reasons for being just. I shall not here examine the deontological assumption, that a moral reason cannot be one with any reference to ‘consequences, an assumption that is far from self-evident. Someone who thinks that a moral argument must be a conse- ‘quentialist one holds that a moral justification is provided only by pointing to desirable consequences. There are many positions available to someone with this assumption, depending on what the items are that are being considered (whether, for example, they are actions, institutions, states of persons), what counts as a eThe Porm of Plato's Argument 63 visionary than Plato’s.) Rather than forcing the argument to fit, and discuss ierms whose application depencls on modern assumptions, we should try to stand back from modern debates arn from Plato. For Plato is certainly offering us 2 1 argue! amoral argument ianism, according to izes happiness seldom held as a moral theory in this straightforward and unmodified form.) Now since Plato's argument iso clearly not a consequences. We should y rest on assumptions about moral argu- the form of a moral argument must be either deontological or chen Plato's task is doomed, for the two parts argument, and in pai since the consequence of justice is argued to be pppiness. But this is not the form of argument that ld be put in the third class, things d consequences. For in a consequer 8 comes only from consequences; ig has moral value ‘in itsel? is either wrong or has way of saying that it has good best redundant). Plato's cia moral justifiea somet ie basic issues. For it is very commonly assumed ‘moral argument must proceed either by showing that desirable or valuable purely in itself, or by showing that it is valuable solely because of its consequences. It is true that nowadays few moral theories proceed on the that consequences are is taken to be a consequent preted 2 i distinguishes three classes, not two, and deliber- ately ( laces justi j form of his argument seriously, we cannot | a deontological or a consequen different reasons, the second ample, @ tarian may hold that all th to the rightness nt ns is good consequences, but that these consequences ken to be the andy factor that is moral ude some facts which in a deontological argument what is characteristic of a deontological argument is would have value in themselves. So moral theories tend 10 more acceptable to common sense! proceed by compromising ices do not have more moral wei Joking for of what is done distinctive moral wei committed, simply by ment that yw us, he claims, ice is worth having both for itself and for its consequences; and the two parts of this task are to be ge conflict. If this can re good things. (It is interesting of the basic forms of argument in modern that in this respect64 The Form of Plato's Argume baldly stated, For all we kno: here may not be a single argument that brings both the intrinsic nature of justice and 1s eonseuenes inp one demaotrtin thts wth having But it is worth insisting that this, and no less, is wi intends to show. = ee Glaucon and Adeimantus now go on to put the case for the ty of injustice with as much force as th in begins: most people, he claims, practise justice only icy can get out of it, and because there Is no better injustice are, and what power each has in the soul, le aside rewards and consequences (338b4-~ ink is that justice isa second-best, and they think this because ideally people would prefer to be free to wrong one another. However, in a situation where one is free to wrong others one stands a high chance of being wronged oneself, and because of ing What most people So people reach a compromise neither to wrong nor to be wronged. Justice is thus satisfactory as a second-best whi if he could get away with being ‘unjust withou attendant risks. In essence this is Thrasymachus’ view: i is ¢ that pays if one is clever enough to avoid the con- Sequences of geting caught, and these exist because of the col claims Glaucon, by the fact that as soon ith avoiding the bad consequences of just man will exp! ating, claims Glau unjust man does — kill his enemies, have sex yyone he fancied, get his friends out of dany d all The Form of Plaie’s Argumot 85 ‘act unjustly. And this shows that what is actually valued is not just, but only seeming to be just; as long as one can seem just the life of injustice is clearly better, whereas it is futile to be just regardless of appearances. Glaucon puts the point ‘graphically by sketching the lives of the just man who appears tunjust, and ends up persecuted and tartured, and the unjust man who appears just, who his days in peace and prosperity. How then could anyone with any sense prefer justice for itself, regardless of appearances? ‘Adeimantus chimes in to complain that Glaucon hasn't stated the case completely. In fact what he adds is relative minor (and certainly does ngth of his speec! parents and teachers, people wha nominal still recommend it not for itself but for its us teachers also; they the gods do not positively approve of injustice, none the less they can be bought off. From all the sources that surround and form young man’s sensi message: what matte ‘The personal dilemma of people antus is movingly brought out at 366¢ who does not believe all this feels, all the same, ‘full of fo ness’ to those who do think this way. For he knows that .¢ character whom injustice disgusts, or one who knowledge, avoids injustice, and that no other h cowardice or old age or some ‘other weakness objects to injustice, because he cannot practise it. (Grube) There are a few isolated saints who reject injustice, ‘ut it is not clear even to those whe approve of them reasonable, or in accordance with human nature, for everyone to try to do the same. ‘The two speeches unfortunately raise quite serious problems ‘as to what exactly their import is, What precisely is the challenge that Socrates has to meet in the rest of the book? Firstly, Glaucon and Adeimantus clearly believe that they 3, the second speech. in details gets the same the appearance of justice and not the Glaueon and Glaucon stresses the need to praise ‘Adeimantus stresses the need to bring86 The Form of Plato's Argumen ‘out the beneficial results of justice. In Glaucon’s speech we find over and over again the request to praise justice ‘itself by itsel?” (358b5-6, di-2, and cf. 961b-c). Adeimantus, on the other hand, closes his speech with an impressive four-times repeated request to show that the effects of justice are beneficial to the person who has it (366¢5-9, 3672-5, d3-4, €3-5.) Now prima facie it may look as though Glaucon wants to exclude all consequences from the defence of justice, whereas Adcimantus wants to let in the beneficial consequences, and this makes it seem as though only Adeimantus wants to put justice in the second class (as he demands in so many words at 367¢) whereas Glaucon’s demand is really the deontological one, that justice be put in the first class, But there is not really a conflict, and there only appears to be one if we retain the assumption that showing justice desirable for itself’ must exclude showing it desirable for its consequences. Neither of the brothers assumes this; they are merely stressing different parts of the task of putting justice in the second class. When Glaucon insists that Socrates must defend justice itself, he is not opposing justice itself to its consequences. He wants to defend being just as opposed to merely seeming to be just; consequences are only excluded insofar as they could follow from the appearance of justice as well as from the reality. And Adeimantus refers back to this point (367b) : Socrates must exclude the reputations that might equally well follow the appearance of justice as the reality. So, although the emphases of the brothers’ speeches are different, they are making the same demand. But this raises a second problem. How can the brothers’ requirement be squared with the initial demand that justice be put in the second class? For we have seen, in showing that there is no conflict between them, that they agree in excluding some consequences. They both demand exclusion of the ‘rewards and reputations’ (doxai) of justice, and make it clear why — they can go to the person who seems to be just but is not. I shall call these (following the terminology of an article by 'M. B. Foster) the artificial consequences of justice. They are artificial because they depend on the existence of human prac- tices and conventions, and would not accrue to the possession of justice in the absence of these. This is connected to the second important point about them: they can sometimes follow the The Farm of Plalo’s Argument 67 mere appearance of justice without the reality, because humans are gullible and their institutions are defectives they do not flow inevitably from the mere possession of justice. ‘Now the brothers are Girm that these consequences must be excluded from a successful defence of justice. But this produces 1 problem in fitting their demands in the speeches to the initial threcfald division, 2s we can see if we turn back to it and consider the examples used there, Knowledge, sight, and health, which were put into the second class, don't have any rewards in the sense of artificial consequences. Health and sight have natural benefits, but there are no prizes con- ventionally instituted for seeing, ones that one might equally ‘well get for putting up a convincing show of seeing when lacked the ability. The third class is equally difficult. It is said that items in it have rewards, but again these cannot be rewards in the sense of erfificial consequences, There are no conventionally instituted prizes for dieting or having operations, which one might get by successful pretence. The distinction between natural and artificial consequences, which emerges from the two speeches so insistently, simply does not fit the earlier threefold division. Perhaps Plato has just been careless. But the problem is not merely one of artistic composition; it concerns the form of question which Socrates will answer in the rest of the Republic. ‘We can respond in either of two ways. We can accept that the threefold division does not fit the demands madein the speeches, and conclude that one or the other is a mistake and that we find the real form of Glaucon’s challenge by looking at only one or the other. Many interpreters of the Republic have done this; on the whole they have tended to downplay the threefold division and assume that itis superseded by the challenge made in the speeches. We can, on the other hand, try to find a consistent challenge in the two passages; and I think that this can be done. ‘dre the demands of Glaucon and Adeimantus actually in conflict with the original division of goods? As we have seen, their demand that the artificial consequences of justice be excluded does not ft that division happily. But why is this? ‘The original division, as set up, was quite general, Glaucon gavea few examples to show us the kind of thing that was meant in each case; we therefore expect them to be uncontroversial68 The Form of Plato's Argument ‘examples, as they are. When the question is raised, into which class justice falls, there is an extra complication. For justice, unlike knowledge and heaith, has two kinds of consequences he natural and the artificial. This is simply a fect about justice, cone which makes it a more difficult and controversial case than health, say; but it need introduce no new principle of division between goods, It simply is the case that justice has artificial consequences and the other examples do not, because justice depends for its existence on social conventions more than health or knowledge does, and because people more often have good reason to sinulate justice than they do to simulate health or Knowledge. So in demanding that Socrates exclude the artifical rewards of justice, the brothers are not setting him a new task, but narrowing, and making harder, the task he has already been set. It would have been easter to show that justice falls into the second class if he had been allowed to count in the rewards one gets by being just which are artificial in the sense explained; but neither brother would be satisfied with this, for the reasons they detail at length. Socrates has accepted more difficult job than but it is not a different kind of task from the one he initially undertook: show that justice falls in the second class. And Adeimantus says as much at the end of his speech (367¢-d), The upshot of our long discussion of the speeches is that they have not altered the nature of the demand made right at the beginning in the threefold division; the brothers want, and Socrates offers to deliver, a defence of justice that is neither deontological nor consequentialist (indeed we have no one Jangon word for it). The two speeches have made it clearer wl they want an answer of this form; but for all we know so far it might be an impossible demand. We learn more of Plato’s methods of arguing from Socrates’ answer to Glaucon’s challenge than from the challenge itself, and we shall return at the close of the main argument (the end of Book 9) to the form of argument offered by Plato, and to its adequacy’ to answer the presing question: Why be just, if you can get away with merely seeming to be just while in fact reaping the rewards of injustice? There is a further question to be faced. Should Socrates have accepted the further demand that he exclude all the artificial The Farm of Plato's Argiment 69, Consequences of justice? He certainly goes out of his way to do 80, He agrees not only to ignore therewards that conventionally attach to justice and injustice, but positively to reverse them. He will show that ic is desirable w be just even with al penalties that attach to an appearance of injustice. And he show that it is undesirable to be unjust even with all the rewards that conventionally attach to the appearance of justice. Following Glaucon we can sum the matter up by saying that Socrates undertakes to shaw that it is not worth being unjust even if you have Gyges’ ring — that is, even if you ‘can get away with your injustice as far as the rest of the world goes. But isn’t this an absurdly strong demand? Why does Socrates think that it is even relevant to the defence of justice? It makes a great difference in moral reasoning whether one is or is not prepared to take on a task which is defined by examples that are avowedly unreal or fantastic. Socrates undertakes to show that even Gyges with his ring has reason to be just. But why not exclude Gyges? We can imagine what I shall call the ‘realistic response’ to Glaucon’s challenge. ‘If Gyges had his ring, then perhaps he had no reason to refrain from the wicked acts that brought him success; ex ypothesi there was no way he was going to suffer for them. But part of a defence of justice to show that Gyges has reason to be Just. We live in 2 world where we have to take into account the natural and artificial consequences of injustice, and itis merely silly to ask what we would do if we escaped these by having rings. It isn’t a fault in a defence of justice that it doesn’t apply to someone who ex hypothesi escapes all those features of the human condition that make justice important to us. A realistic moral theory doesn’t have to cope with fantastic examples. They fall outside the area that it purports to cover Further, a theory that is designed to cope with them is likely for that very reason to be unrealistic, and not give the right answer in central everyday examples. Showing why Gyges with his ring ought to be just is likely to be irrelevant to showi why Joe Average ought to be just.” Plato, we should note, is not unaware of this kind of response. In the bulk of the Republic he does try to answer the question in exactly this form: show that one has reason to be just evn fone70. The Form of Plato's Argument had Gyges’ ring. But in Book 10 (612-615) he ends this defence and asks permission to restore to the just man the reputations and rewards that he could reasonably expect. In fact, he says, the just inan does usually win through in the end, The unjust ‘man is like an over-ambitious runner who cannot make it to the finishing-post. This is presented approvingly as the common. sense answer to the problem: konesty is the best long-run policy Now it is questionable whether Plato js entitled simply to add an the ‘realistic response’ after arguing for eight books that even Gyges does have reason to be just; he seems not fully to realize that he is ot throwing in an extra clinching argument but using a totally different kind of reasoning. But leaving this aside, Book 19 is important because it shows us that Plato was aware of this kind of response and did not think that it would do on its own. He accepts the challenge in the form offered by Glaucon: show that it is desirable to be just even if one has an absolute guarantee that one’s injustice wi So we can see right at the beginning that Plato's account of Justice is not going to be ‘realistic’ in the sense of answering to ‘common-sense intuitions about justice. It is designed to hold for extreme hypothetical cases as well as for what actually happens in the real world. We should not be too surprised, then, when his account of justice involves giving a picture of the ‘idea! state and ‘ideal’ human nature (though ideal in what sense we hhave yet to see). We have already seen that moral consen: not enough for Plato, and he thinks that answers based! an it will not satisfy the thoughtful. Later, when he has given his own Secount of justice in state and soul, we shall find Plato also worrying about the extent to which his account does in fact answer problems that arise for the concept of justice as we have it; heis not as ready to cut free from common sense as we Suppose here from his refusal to be satisfied with the response’. But at the start the challenge to defen: such a way that it cannot be met satisfactoy already available to common sense. ly by any answer FURTHER READING The ar le by J. Mabbott, ‘Is Plato's Republic U ly written for Mind 1937, rewritten with additions for lastos (ed.) Plato it), gives a clear picture of deontological and The Form of Plato's Argument 71 ‘consequentialist interpretations of the Reprblic’s argument. (This refers to the article by Foster that introduces the term natural’ and ‘artificial’ consequences in this regard.) See also C, Kirwan, ‘Glaucon’s Challenge’, Phronesis 1965; Irwin, Plato's Moral Theory ch. 7, sections 4-5: N. White, 4 Companion to Plao's Republic pp. 74-82, for different resolutions of the difficulties raised by the brothers’ speeches.F. Desteec, CHAPTER THIRTEEN Vis et COMBATING OBLIVION: oe THE MYTH OF EK AS BOTH PHILOSOPHY CHALLENGE AND INSPIRATION | | Francisco J. Gonzalez ‘That the Republic should end with any myth must surprise anyone who has {followed the dialogue’s critique of poetry and its generally hostile attitude towards traditional myths, But what should be much more surprising is the particular myth that is chosen. For the Myth of Eris a strange myth. Unlike other Platonic myths, what it directly describes are not dh awaiting the virtuous nor the punishments awaiting the vicio to these is confined to the tecollections of the souls he encounters.’ What describes, and what Br sees, is an ambiguous transitional es where all is given over to free choice, chance, careless- state betw ness, and oblivion. Far from being morally edifying, this spectacle is, in the words of the myth itself, pitiful, endwith such a myth a dialogue whose argument has insisted on the absolute nile of reason both within the soul and within the city? The aim of the present paper is to show that what the Republic leaves us with is an imresolvable tension between what the philosopher demands and the tragicomedy of life depicted in the myth: a tension which is key to understanding aracterize the myth as only an illustration or igue's philosophical argnment, or indeed as ‘un smpletely to miss this tension, My approach nature as recounted by the myth thet dialogue's argument up to this p sen to accomplish this task as spear to render problemal Iwill then consider why a myth is cho-PRANGISUU j. GUNZALEE 2. A Wortpex Ms The myth takes the form of S oe tks he fn of Socrates nanaton of Er natn of what tn, according fo the Grube/Reeve translation, ‘the world beyond? Tabs acon the Veta ane 1 Greek, simply ‘over there’ (ef 7 Inde fundamental ambiguity ofthe myth ihe locaton ofthe less deg The pie the heavens nor beneath the souls are described as comi é oo b ing the heavens orfrom mneath the earth. As Proclus already saw, the description ofthis place as a -worldly description considered next, the myth seems at { seems almost syst that have come to define‘ ey has noted, the myth of Br de ie souls as ‘embodied, spatio-temporally ' ‘ splets the smbodie orally 1ecks shackled, and, pethaps most inter nguage. These souls indeed seem indsings able estingly, using their embodied, cfimes makes a distinebon, 98 when we hear of ‘the soul that-was Once wus’ (Ga0aig-4)/ Butthen ths distinctions immediately Plurred ig deactibed as acting and behaving just as Orpheus would ‘explain something that has puzzled many readers and scho} via: that Lachesis should addres the souls as paychat ephemera (Ox7da jualing because it would seem that according to Plato souls 8 Kes immortal while only thelr embodiments aré epherieral Ifthe syth can characterize the souls theiseleesexistingin the world beyon? ss “Ephemeral, this is only because it does pot ine the Kia of sharp Sopot sion between soul and body we have come to associate with Platonisnt ut chere is an eyen mote striking way in which the myth’s description ofthe world beyond appears to affirm embodiment and this world. Prociis shready drew attention to the surprising fact that not shment in Hades, but even the souls descendh rejoice (hasmenas ‘when they arrive at the field which will for them a retum to the cycle of generation. As Proclus notes, that even the souls that have experienced the delights ofheaven participation in the material life ere below? But how from the joys ofheaven be anything but ‘atastrophe and cause oflamentation fora soul? What could the soul which find desiral generation snomentous implications: that heaven satisies onl and, by therefore leaving the rest of the soul wit ‘produces weariness and fatigue in the saul a8 2 vvords, the sout is bored by heaven after a thousand years becaus jowers there. The and needing to be exercised if the 90 are inseparably tied to generation and bodily life the message of the myth, then it makes body and soul inseparable indeed, But whether o hot one necepts Proclus’ suggestion, its hard to deny that the myth, with the festival atmospheaccording to érci. Secondly, necessity figures prominenty in the mayth and in the end is the describes, Once a type of life is chosen, it is made fixed and inescapable Both of iexions raise important problems and questions to be addressed in. wht follows. ule he past (Lachesis)* does not determine vwhich type of life a soul will enter, but ae ‘pro: vides a mumber of possible lives among which it can choose (61pd4-s) ‘This is particularly striking in con e hardly be said to have emphasized the cenuality of chaice in the kind ife one leads. Indeed. the clearest parallel tothe chai eee parallel to the choice olives deseribed. ‘only prior to thi determined once we have chosen one of the possible lives offered by our past? Is free choice something that exists in the world beyond and not atall inthis world? Buta prior questi here? What we are told is not chosen is the internal order marketplace of differen: tutions (557d2-8). Yet this kind of freedon ¢ myth something at least analogon: Journey. That the myth’s emphasis 5 by y ice is by no means neces. ary (s clear if one considers that souls could have been described as ou assigned specific lives according to their character and : 44), This claim makes the s0 i chooses but at the same time completely vulnerable to being alfected by it. The infamous case, to be diseussed further in what follows virtuous man who chooses the life of a tyrant is a striking dlustrat in this case the man's virtue did not guarantee the choice of a virtuous life" and the tyrant’ life he has chosen wall presumably dest soul* What needs to be inferred from Soctates, describing different reincarnatio ifferent reinearnations for their ‘destination led two key ways of the ‘lot’ indicates 8 precedence (262.9-6); see age, For nothing prevents the bthis example and the general claim at 6:8b3-4 is that a virtuous sou loes not simply choose a life of being virtuous, which would be to chor eaeunel fos to render irrelevant the external and AOE Hics of a life. Instead, the soul chooses a life larpely defines eo al a ri : ao pris and accidentat characteristics and thereby We ue cae a surrentiy has within itself This means that according tothe my, dhe over of he snl is by no meas independent of or ame to the me of E Prochis is therefore forced | by the myth te conchude that for Bar ce (ektos), though not part of the definition of the good y a toga a abe any eso thehappines souls (Goa 1 in between the good of the soul and al indeed another one of those ‘Platonic’. aan ee es distinctions thatthe myth thoroughly This is precisely why the choice of lives g , 1oice of 8 is described by Socrates as rey o oe e oe for a human be ing (618b7-8), a ‘Case already alluded to shows, even a soul th a thousan ars i é oo ‘ 10k ids years in heaven cor femplating the sights there hazards ee A leed goes on to claim that our only way of id6-e2) is for our choice to be guided by a know!- and what makes it se of it just. But the m ¢ aa ae of each life a8 determined by a wide variety of dif. fot toon thereby suggesting the importance of finding the right ‘inture and right mean 6164, Sigg), makes the knowledge required here smely oe and anything but purely ideal oral as follows the things a soul must kno ssf oatnes fs to sucteed ints neue - ee ‘know the good and bad effects ofbaaey when h wealth, poverty, and a particular state of regard to qualities either natural to ee I one birth, strenggh/weakness, learning a both what effects each produces and bined with cach other in different i must know the nature of the soul Eatin third type of knowleds the goal o ‘ment at least implied not this argu ich knowledge to be sufficient for ha >What of the other two types of knawledge which Socrates now, in commenting ‘on the myth, claims to be indispensable? Where in the dialogue are we ‘night what good and bad effects beauty has when its mixed with poverty? ‘Where are we told what would be the right mnixture of beauty and poverty or ugliness and wealth? Where are we even told how we might go sbout figuring this out? ffaced with a choice benveen a life in which we are nobly bom but sickly and a life in which we are meanly born but healthy, how do ‘we decide? How do we determine, and by what knowledge, whether or not this life would ‘alter’ our soul fer the best? ‘The problem here is that what the soul is required to choose between Is not virtue and view, but between lives defined by accidental agglomerations ‘of goods extemal to and independent of the soul's awn constitution. This leads Proclus to speak ofa tof posterior to one’s choice, by which he means the sum total of accidental elements made the consequence of this or that type oflife 2638. ly a determiaate land finite set of lives between which to choose, but also, once a particular ife is chosen, one is ‘allotted’ a number of accidents that accompany such ‘life, Let's take again the most striking example offered by the myth: the ran who chooses the life of a tyrant is choosing a life of great power and not choosing to eat his own children: the latter horror just happens to ‘accompany this life in this case (if one grants, as one apparently must, that would be possible to bea tyrant without eating one’s children). Of course, ‘one could insist, as apparently Socrates does, on the need to examine the life so carefully as to spot all ofits particulars and be able to judge whether the particular mixture of goods and evils it contains is most conducive to producing virtue in the soul, But could the most careful attention really reveal all of the particulars? And even ifit could, what would enable one to make a good choice here, given that, to repeat, what is chosen is not a particular type ofsoul but rather a particular type oflife defined by accidents and external goods of great diversity which, though beyond our e in short, the myth so o «the possibilities while (how much poverty ly noted, virtue choice, as it presumably would be if the choice were simply one between virtue and vice. Many of those coming down from hea cll make the wrong choice, exchanging a good life for a bad 0) in this context that the case already noted of a man descended from heavchoosing the life of tyrant becomes especially significant. Possessing virtue asa result of having lived under a well-ordered constitution (ike the ides! ‘tepublic, perhaps?) could not save this man from a horrible fate (G19c7— dh). This case has shocked many readers and rightly so: a shock, and even sepuignance, that only increases when one recognices that according to ‘the myth this case is by no means unique or even unusual. Halliwell, for ‘example, comments on the case of this :ragic soul as follows: Not only does its previous existence count for nothing; the same is true for is millennium titude in the presence of a transcendent beauty’ (451). Halliwell even faras to suggest that ‘the soul's chofce of tyranny in the myth appears troduce an element of failure into the cosmic apparatus of justice: (452). There does indeed seem to be something terribly amiss in a system Sn-which those who have lived lives sufficiently virtuous to meritand be able to enjoy for a thousand years the indescribable reality of heaven should still be vulnerable to making a choice that plunges them immediately into the ‘worst evil imaginable. Indeed, one cannot speak of a system at all where there is this possibility of rupture, discontinuity, and sudden reversal ‘What is threatened here, howe only the system of justice but the very justice of this system. has done nothing to deserve itis compatible And the only possible response to such a itselfnever even suggests: that the so {given to vice. Ths Proclus argues that of eating his own ‘was just punishment for someone who, through lack of reflection, was still ruled by insatiable desire and gluttony (294.25-27); he also cannot resist ‘suggesting the possibility, without committing himself to it, that before the well-ordered life that eared him heaven, this man had lived a disordered life for which he still must pay (295.36-). roclus should need tomake ‘such claims to find in che myth a just cosmic order shows just how much the myth endangers such an order, And even Proclus is not satisfied with 2 (2009), serves unending exchange of lives is more devastating than anything dcectiy expressed ear inthe Rapublc, su ee dasknes furthest removed from thie light Such a ome pe ‘of course no less strange for being more familiar to us today in the guise of Lucifer. he however one explains the case of ‘At this point one will object that hhecve descended souls which choose bad lve, the phdosophern sworry at all. The man who ch 3 fe ofthe tyrant sep sd to hhave been virmous without philosophy i) Des thi not ih ee philosophy is excluded from the ambiguity and fallbiity jhasizes? Philosophy alone can save : an a ‘the myth seriously undermines this cla ‘many of those coming from beneath the earth make a choice in carefully choosing a good life, not because they have p: philosophy, but because they have themselves the suffering that a bad life can bring (oats mi choosing & good life. Iso need the luck (én not according to the myth a mecessa Secondly, even someone who P! tou hlgrou tyehén, Gigdl)® of nat‘even then it is only likely (kinduneuei, é1ge2) that he will find happit and the straight path to heaven. Philosophy. co ‘condition for choosing a good life 2! oe ee ‘This last claim needs some defence since ( iy indeod said et 61ab3_6 that even the person who chooses last can win a pleasing life (apapttos) ithe chooses with nous. This clan is a least in tension with the pastage Just cited in which not being among the last to choose is explicitly listed as a condition along with philosophy, One way of trying to resolve the tension would be to say that while the luck of the draw cant uot prevent you from finding a life thats pleasing and not bad, it can keep you fom the hhappiest life and the direct path to heaven, This solution would itself grant luck a very important role in achieving happiness. But the myth appears ‘te go further: in another passage, Er gives the ‘luck of the lot’ as 4 cause of many souls finding themselves exchanging a good life for a fe and vice versa (G1od5-7). Furthermore, the claim that even the last person to ‘choose can with nous find a pleasing life appears to refer back to an earlier Claim that virrme knows no master (areté adespoton, 61763). How then could laim possibly be made consistent with the claim that luck too is thus not priest implies that [ethical] understanding (nous, 610b] ove "mal oF material conditions of a life (beca Socrates implies that even philosophical wisdom cannot dependently of external circumstances’ (466), It is hard not fromit. Even} shy cannot defeat bad luck. But in Ce ae ‘one must also ask how exactly pht- Josophy enables one to choose the best life given Socrates’ earlier decount of what such a choice requires. If philosophy is understood as a knowledge ‘of the Forms, how can such knowledge determine the positive and uegs- ‘tive effects of poverty, wealth, strength, weakness, health, sickness, beauty and ugliness, both in themselves and tn different combinations and pro- portions? Can what the philosopher has contemplated outside of the Cave really have much application in the murky, shadowy Hades described by Er? Not only luck, but the extreme diversity and concrete determingcy of jaman life being good ot bad appear vo set cactly what the myth not only shows it v0 a pitiful. funny, and surpassingly strange wwe are told, as an explanation the most part depends on ta synétheian tou proterow the factors that contribs ‘of this description, that « persons ‘that person's character in the previ biou, 62002~3). This is a strange claim, both’ role of knowledge Socrates has wanted to emphs tharacter in no way determi beyond a person's control, Also an element in the comedy is the way in ich the souls described simply choose the opposite of what they have been in the past, cus going from one extreme to the other and thereby recommended by Socrates. But perhaps the of great heroes choosing s finds this s0 shocking the point, co face reincarnation i 1 fae a strugule ss the philosopher's happiness that SocratesSRARLUIUU J. GUNZALRE and simply blasphemous that he must c are not hete in agreement with the myth (g the charitable interpretation that the nam for certain types of lives that tmitate those hetoes without rly being ke them (g13:7-15 & ju4.n-24). Proclus’ shod nde that Plato's own thoughts y2.10-16), though he also offers between the heroic and the base, between the semi-divine and the bess, ‘he passing description inthis context of animals choosing a human life also appears seriously to undermaine the distinction between animals and ‘sumans (62087-8) "This undermining of hierarchies ts precisely the kind of thing that makes the myth comical racher than morally edifying. And the question is whether the philosopher can tmily transcend this pitiful comedy. With this ques hich the detalls of the myth have repeatedly forced ‘upon us, we should turn to perhaps the most sign ture of the story, and the one not the Republic. lam referring here t 1¢ account of how the souls, ater the es they have chosen have been assigned, confirmed and rendered inalen, able by past (Lachesi 10), and future (Atropos), respectively ‘must travel to the plain of Léthé, which is deseribed. sls of physi (Ameles, G2ia6-7), also referred to as the river of Lé¢hé (6z1c1-2), before “ntering suddenly into their new lives, Most significantly with regerd to our Shestion the difference between those said to possess phroneas (philoso. hers?) and those lacking tis not hat the former do not dink ofthe water ‘he dliferenc is instead thatthe latter drink more than they should while the former presumably drink the propermeasure (6216-1), Th implication is that even philosophers must ingest a certain degree of oblivion sad care, lessness. But why and how is this a necessary condition for entering upon a new life? ‘THLE MYTH OF BR AS PHILOSODHY'S CHALLUNGR AND INSPIRATION 27 ws éthés pedion an antithesis to to alétheias Si sito Pt a CBE a in be pee to see the one as complimenting and es - ce ‘is no contradiction between the claim of the a . oe ‘have seen the truth in order to become tniman and S oe oes of Er that every soul must iml oblivion and ead ame embodied. The fate of ae — oan ~ wae ee with carelessness. The best can be ac eed ages cue ‘two. Note thet the virtuous person's hasten eee ae tyrannical life is attributed to aphrosyné (619b8) as ane Et Loe the chosen life really contained was hidden to him (auton lather, 62901). her who has phronesis, the ifn go much wil be hidden to the philosopher wh Sinan i oblivion. josopher has still imbibed carelessness and. a " a ie to note that if Er's story is ale es oo 5 8) fr ye because he is a philosopher. Instead, he 2b8) for out salvation, thls is not because : Xe i oe the special dispensation of becoming a messenger ae Se (0 humans of what he both sees and hears in the en pos tes ally requires him to be more than human and thus a sa, shown by his escaping death (his body remains uncorrupted for days; 25 See Adam (s9ca) 11 46 to Prosi. Procus nates that while the pain of x3 oy who both atibute th oftruth inthe high est gion (320-8) Le =e mn ho nests ot po eh eon ea aide dest ge Fah} lo on the earth and inthe midst of in such & way ase withdrawing of beings holds sway he pln of Ay nseparsble one ion, see Gonzales of Oblivion? Adamto combat the oblivion and carelessness tat nomnally male over us. yen Becoming filly ware of our human-ll-:oe-human condition requires 4 superhuman perception. i je description of what tks place in the pain of Loh the key to ‘bringing together the diverse elements ofthe myth discussed 50 far for what Benerlly charactries human life according tothe myth sa fundanener ‘opacity. Philosophical reasoning seeks to make the choice between good ‘end bad clear and in our control, ‘but the myth thematises everything that Such reasoning cannot penetrate and master, ‘everything that stubbomly tnd Foncte ns ionek: abodes, chance, character, cattesmioe, it is not a process taking plac: the 'being-carried’ into genes in time nor therefore measurable by time; ‘6ab4) cannot itsel be genesis, As charac. ‘stized in the Parmenides, the exaiphinés is therefore this strange nature {lysis atopos) that exists in between motion and rest and therefore in no time (seb Butthe important thingto stress he the flow of the narrative in the exaip precisely the indefinable and {mPeroeptible boundary between the soul and its embodiment ax veel as between the world beyond and this worl. Procus, who ate ‘draws the Parallel with the characterization ofthe exafpfinésin the Parmenides, notes the result ‘that the separation between life out ofthe body and ‘what interrupts and ruptures While the myth recount between these journeys and the sout * Seid hyProiastoseqesent the extreme of scart in eg lace le Ean ean what he in the oh nd he cannot t eee ioe not knowhow he carte to enter the body (ibd). ss ‘The imperceptibility and indescribability of the boundary and transition ‘between the other world and this world makes i quite possible to follow ‘Halliwel’s sugg on of reading the myth a5 an allegory of the life of the ‘us in some past but rather what characterizes our condition now. Whether of not one adopts this suggestion, the important point is that the myth an be read in this way. One reason is that what it describes seems, in the ‘ways enumerated above, particularly this-worldy: souls ag whole persons rejoicing in generation; choices both finite and genuinely fre; luck both limiting one’s choices and dictating the unforeseen consequences of one’s choices; the continual struggle against the universal power of carelessness and oblivion; the unexpected reversals between good and bad; and the collapse of hierarchies, But the other reason is what ‘Procius characterizes as ‘the impercepti ‘the separation between the life beyond and this life. impossibility of any perceptible transition between the two, is there a great difference betn ‘agicomedy of human fed with corpses and the rand saw conclude on a r a trath about oul be expressed more directly through an argumenthowever, is not repudiation of the myth or a re ; : : OF & rejection of its os coe ieee ie scheint tthe mys pe a power of what it describes. Faced with the tragicomic spectac {umn codon as derby he mys he cer oo ae for virtue and : 4 oe Peet [Pure them to the utmost degree ‘What does ll ofthis tell us about the relation between, myth and philo- sophical argument, at least in this di way mbotdnate tothe philsephiea orn ema no even characterize ag an. ‘ophical argument of the dialogue, fone can argument what is a philosophical drama no less a ed i oblivion.» Bur if the myth thereby shows the limits of philosophy, pointing ‘to everything thut evades its grasp, it does so not in order to undermine its validity but rather in order to heighten its urgency. The relation between myth and philosophy és, in short, like the relation between Er’s narrative and Socrates’ interventions, a dialectical one” the Republic as a whole. Such an indication car be had ia contrasting the lottery deseribed in the myth with the lottery which the rulers of the ideal city are described as setting up in Book Five. The goal ofthet lottery required by the ideal city is to ensure the best offspring and to prevent different in reality, of course, the outcome oves nothing to tuché and everything to the wisdom of the rulers. Yet we find out later, atthe beginning cof Book 8, that this is precisely where the wisdom ofthe rulers wil fall them. Despite being wise, their ignorance of ‘the geometrical number’ will lead tf Br felows an accoantof justice and philosophy tsiumphing inthis wold in he form ofthe can therefore expect, would suggest, cht the sim ofthe Myth of‘hem o jin brides und groores atthe wi : ; sng time (para kairon, 546d) ant 19 produce offepring who have neither good natures ee oon eee ‘This, them, is what ultimately brings about the dissola- es ity (assuming it could ever be brought into being in the ae Uesefore evades the whvlom ofthe philosopher bing and dius {fessten the city othe appropriate time and good lack which, along with ice, are arguably incalculable and beyond the control of reason, But. are not these recalcitrant and opaque elements of mortal life that threaten as aa ‘ity precisely whar the concluding myth attempts to bring into See ge mg eee a utopian ideal, an exhortation to care for ‘what continually sinks into carelessness, to bring to inlets a = ‘nvally retreats into oblivion, The model set in heaven of human commiu- ‘uy governed entirely by reason can be ingpiring rather than dangerously ‘elf lesional only a8 long a8 we preserve the insghtinta the human cos- on o be had only on the war ravaged batlefeld and atthe very bound See eos death, If reaton demands that we banish myth, oar ephemeral and embodied ure that we justice forusontyan exhortation and erera fly read ste we tse ne only the Myth of Er but myth itselfin order to be saved. a ‘cuayrsn novREREN ‘THE MYTH OF THEUTH IN THE PHAZDRUS haristopher Moore Plato's Phaedrus depicts Socrates in 2 conversation with Phaedmus, a young acquaintance in thall to the pawer of composed speeches. Socrates, aware of this zeal, worries about Phaedrus’ indiscriminate appreciation of com- posed speeches and his hopes for lls own future In speech-composition. Harnessing Phaedris’ eagerness for talk, Socrates aims to bring Phaednis to gain some critical facility as both a listener and a writer. This involves ‘ying to help him become a better conversationatist (one who engages in dinlegesthai, thorough talking’ (269b6)) It is in the context of Socrates’ hope that Phaedrus will come to talk ‘well with others that he tells him what we now call the Myth of Theuth (27ae5-275b2). In this story, near the end of the dialogue, the Egyptian ‘god is said to have brought seven discoveries to the god-king Thamos for hhis dissemination to the Egyptian people. The last of these discoveries is _grammata, what we might call scripts, prepared compositions, or writings. “Theuth lands this discovery as 2 boon to wisdom and memory. Thamos disagrees. He predicts that this discovery will instead generate the mere pretence of wisdom, eause the dereliction of memory, and make people difficult to associate with. Grammata may at best help people remember ‘what they already know. Finished with the story, Socrates soon extends its criticism, and concludes that, were 2 knowledgeable person to choose to write, he would do so only playfully, storing up a treasury of reminders for forgetful old age and for those Iollowing his track, providing himself with altematives to sympotic or related amusements (276d1- arost ily frst w speech, Phaedrus observed that his idol Lysias had been harangued as being “thank Blzabeth Belfore, Christopher C, Raymoné, sad the editors for their com-