Plato's homeric dialogue: Homeric quotation, paraphrase, and allusion in the "Republic"

PLATO’S HOMERIC DIALOGUE: HOMERIC QUOTATION, PARAPHRASE, AND ALLUSION IN THE REPUBLIC BY PATRICK GERALD LAKE B. A., Bos...

Author: Patrick Gerald Lake

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PLATO’S HOMERIC DIALOGUE: HOMERIC QUOTATION, PARAPHRASE, AND ALLUSION IN THE REPUBLIC

BY PATRICK GERALD LAKE B. A., Boston University, 2000 M. A., Fordham University, 2008

DISSERTATION SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF ARTS AND SCIENCES OF FORDHAM UNIVERSITY NEW YORK 2011

UMI Number: 3474142

All rights reserved INFORMATION TO ALL USERS The quality of this reproduction is dependent on the quality of the copy submitted. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion.

UMI 3474142 Copyright 2011 by ProQuest LLC. All rights reserved. This edition of the work is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.

ProQuest LLC. 789 East Eisenhower Parkway P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, MI 48106 - 1346

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Copyright © 2011 by Patrick G. Lake All Rights Reserved

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DEDICATION

For my wife

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I’d like to give thanks to the members of my dissertation committee: to my adviser Robert Penella, for offering such timely, detailed, and thoughtful criticism of my work; to Jeff Mitscherling for his expertise in the subject and penetrating analysis of my arguments; to Christiana Sogno, Sarah Peirce, and Matt McGowan, for their insightful suggestions. I offer my thanks to my students and colleagues at The Hill School: to Headmaster David Dougherty; to my brothers in the Classics Department, Henry Bender and James Finn; to fellow Platonist Chuck Garrettson; to The Hill School Librarian, Lou Jeffries; to Bill Yinger for being such a steadfast and genuine friend. I want to thank my former teachers, Stephen Scully and David Roochnik, for teaching Plato’s dialogues to me with the care and mastery they deserve. I want to thank the scholars with whom I corresponded during this project, among them: Diskin Clay, Louise Pratt, Bruce Heiden, Susan Stephens, Bernard Suzanne, David Murphy, Ruth Scodel, Sir Kenneth Dover, Nicholas Smith, Dennis Schmidt, and Eric Csapo. I thank my mother for all the love and support she has given me; my brother, Sean, a fellow classicist, for being such a positive example for me and such a careful reader of this work. Finally, and most importantly, I’d like to give thanks to my family: to my children, Nora, Chloe, and Cormac, who bring me limitless joy and inspire me in all that I do; to my wife, Tammi, my most sincere and constant supporter. Without you – your love, your encouragement, your faith in me – none of this would have been possible.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION .............................................................................................................. 1 1. HOMER: EDUCATOR OF HELLAS ........................................................................ 1 2. PLATO AND THE POETS ........................................................................................ 5 3. PLATO’S HOMER ..................................................................................................... 8 4. VARIANT READINGS: TEXT AND CONTEXT.................................................. 13 5. LARBARBE’S L’HOMÈRE DE PLATON .............................................................. 23 6. THE ART OF PLATONIC MISQUOTATION ....................................................... 27 7. METHODOLOGY ................................................................................................... 29 8. PLATO’S DIALOGUE WITH HOMER.................................................................. 31 I: POETIC FALSEHOOD ................................................................................................ 35 1. TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD IN POETRY AND PHILOSOPHY ......................... 35 Allusion 1: Plato Rep. 2.382d1-3 : Homer Od. 19.203; Hesiod Theogony 26-28 .... 44 Quotation 1: Plato Rep. 4.424b8-10 : Homer Od. 1.351-352 .................................. 65 Quotation 2: Plato Rep. 3.411b4 : Homer Il. 17.588 ................................................ 77 2. PLATO’S QUARREL WITH HOMER’S “DIVINE BARD” ................................. 84 Quotation 3: Plato Rep. 3.389d2-3 : Homer Od. 17.383-384 ................................... 85 Paraphrase 1: Plato Rep. 3.390a8-9 : Homer Od. 9.1, 5-6 ........................................ 92

vi Quotation 4: Plato Rep. 3.390a10-b2 : Homer Od. 9.8-10 ....................................... 92 Allusion 2: Plato Rep. 10.620a6-7 : Homer Il. 2.594-600 ...................................... 105 Allusion 3: Plato Rep. 10.620b7-c2 : Homer Il. 23.493; 839; Od. 8.493 ............... 109 3. POETRY’S FALSE IMITATION OF JUSTICE ................................................... 112 Quotation 5: Plato Rep. 1.334b2-3 : Homer Od. 19.395-396 ................................ 112 Disputed Citation 1 : Plato Rep. 2.362d6 : Homer Od. 16.97-98; 115-116 ............ 123 Quotation 6: Plato Rep. 2.363b4-c2 : Homer Od. 19.109, 111-114 ....................... 123 Disputed Citation 2 : Plato Rep. 2.363c4-d2 : Homer Od. 16.601-604 .................. 123 Allusion 4: Plato Rep. 10.612b5 : Homer Od. 5.845; Ps.-Hesiod ............................... Shield of Heracles 227 ........................................................................................ 136 Quotation 7: Plato Rep. 6.501b7 : Homer Il. 1.131, et al.; Od. 1.113, et al. .......... 144 Allusion 5: Plato Rep. 6.486b11-12 : Homer Od. 6.120; 8.575; 9.175; 13.201 ..... 150 Allusion 6 : Plato Rep. 3.388a6; 391c1 : Homer Il. 1.413-418;495-496; 4.512; 9.410; 13.350; 16.34; 37; 51; 860; 18.54-64; 85-87; 332; 432-435; 19.4; 8; 20.207; 21.189; 24.59; 85 .................................................................................. 159 Allusion 7 : Plato Rep. 3.391c1-2 : Homer Il. 9.252-258; 16.33; 18.18; 85-87; 331; 432-435; 20.206; 21.189; 22.420-421; 24.60-61 ........................................ 159 Allusion 8 : Plato Rep. 3.391c1-3 : Homer Il. 21.185 ............................................ 159 Allusion 9 : Plato Rep. 3.391c1-3 : Homer Il. 11.827-831; 16.140-144; 19.387-391 .......................................................................................................... 159 II: CRITICISM OF POETIC LOGOS (ON GODS) ....................................................... 167

vii 1. THE FALSE THEOLOGY OF THE POETS......................................................... 167 2. TUPOS I (GODS DO NOT CHANGE): THE GODS ARE NOT SHAPE-SHIFTERS ............................................................. 169 Quotation 8: Plato Rep. 2.364d6-e2 : Homer Il. 9.497, 499-501 ............................ 169 Paraphrase 2: Plato Rep. 2.366a3-4 : Homer Il. 9.499, 501 .................................... 169 3. TUPOS I (GODS DO NOT CHANGE): THE GODS ARE NOT DECEITFUL ... 184 Quotation 9: Plato Rep. 2.381d3-4 : Homer Od. 17.485-486 ................................ 184 Allusion 10: Plato Rep. 2.381d5 : Homer Od. 4.456-458 ....................................... 187 Allusion 11: Plato Rep. 2.383a7-8 : Homer Il. 2.1-36 ............................................ 189 4. TUPOS I (GODS DO NOT CHANGE): THE GODS DO NOT ENTER INTO STRIFE .......................................................... 192 Allusion 12: Plato Rep. 2.378d3-4 : Homer Il. 1.589-593 ..................................... 193 Allusion 13: Plato Rep. 2.378d5 : Homer Il. 20.4-75; 21.385-513 ......................... 193 Disputed Citation 3: Plato Rep. 2.379e4-380a1 : Sophocles Krisis (Cf. Homer Il. 20.4-25; “Stasinus” Cypria fr. 1.4-11 (Evelyn-White)) ............. 198 5. TUPOS II (GODS ONLY CAUSE GOOD) ........................................................... 206 Quotation 10: Plato Rep. 2.379d3, 6, 8 : Homer Il. 24.527, 530, 532 .................... 207 Paraphrase 3: Plato Rep. 2.379d4-5, 7 : Homer Il. 24.528-529, 531 ...................... 207 Paraphrase 4: Plato Rep. 2.379e1-2 : (A conflation of) Homer Il. 4.84 & Od. 4.237 ............................................................................................................. 222

viii Allusion 14: Plato Rep. 2.379e3-5 : Homer Il. 4.64-126 ........................................ 228 Allusion 15: Plato Rep. 10.620b3 : Homer Od. 11.540-564 ................................... 231 III: CRITICISM OF POETIC LOGOS (ON HEROES) ................................................. 235 1. BRAVERY ............................................................................................................. 235 Proverbial Citation 1: Plato Rep. 1.328e6 : Homer Il. 22.60; 24.487; Od. 15.246; 348; 23.212 ..................................................................................... 236 Quotation 11: Plato Rep. 3.386c5-7 : Homer Od. 11.489-491 ............................... 247 Quotation 12: Plato Rep. 3.386d1-2 : Homer Il. 20.64-65...................................... 254 Quotation 13: Plato Rep. 3.386d4-5 : Homer Il. 23.103-104.................................. 257 Quotation 14: Plato Rep. 3.386d7 : Homer Od. 10.495 .......................................... 265 Quotation 15: Plato Rep. 3.386d9-10 : Homer Il. 16.856-857; 22.362-363 ........... 270 Quotation 16: Plato Rep. 3.387a2-3 : Homer Il. 23.100-101 .................................. 273 Quotation 17: Plato Rep. 3.387a5-8 : Homer Od. 24.6-9 ....................................... 275 Quotation 18: Plato Rep. 7.516d4 : Homer Od. 11.489-490 .................................. 279 Allusion 16: Plato Rep. 3.387b9 : Homer Od. 10.514 ............................................ 285 Allusion 17: Plato Rep. 3.387b9 : Homer Il. 8.369; 14.271; 15.37; Od. 5.185; 10.514; Hesiod Theogony 361; 383; 776; Homeric Hymn to Demeter 2.259; 423; Homeric Hymn to Apollo 3.85; Homeric Hymn to Hermes 4.519; Bacchylides Odes 11.9 ........................................................................................ 285 Quotation 19: Plato Rep. 3.387c1 : Homer Il. 15.188; 20.61 ................................. 285

ix 2. EMOTIONAL MODERATION: GRIEF ............................................................... 297 Quotation 20: Plato Rep. 3.388a7-b1 : Homer Il. 24.10-12 .................................... 298 Quotation 21: Plato Rep. 3.388b1-2 : Homer Il. 18.23-24...................................... 313 Allusion 18: Plato Rep. 3.388b3-4 : Homer Il. 18.23-35; 70-78; 19.4-5; 343-346; 24.44-49; 128-130 ............................................................................... 313 Quotation 22: Plato Rep. 3.388b4-7 : Homer Il. 22.414-415.................................. 318 Quotation 23: Plato Rep. 3.388c1 : Homer Il. 18.54............................................... 324 Quotation 24: Plato Rep. 3.388c4-5 : Homer Il. 22.168-169 .................................. 326 Quotation 25: Plato Rep. 3.388c7-d1 : Homer Il. 16.433-434 ................................ 330 3. EMOTIONAL MODERATION: LAUGHTER ..................................................... 334 Quotation 26: Plato Rep. 3.389a5-6 : Homer Il. 1.599-600 .................................... 334 4. EMOTIONAL MODERATION: OBEDIENCE .................................................... 337 Quotation 27: Plato Rep. 3.389e6 : Homer Il. 4.412............................................... 337 Quotation 28: Plato Rep. 3.389e8 : Homer Il. 3.8................................................... 340 Quotation 29: Plato Rep. 3.389e9 : Homer Il. 4.431............................................... 340 Quotation 30: Plato Rep. 3.389e13 : Homer Il. 1.225............................................. 347 Quotation 31: Plato Rep. 3.390d4-5 : Homer Od. 20.17-18 ................................... 349 Quotation 32: Plato Rep. 4.441b6 : Homer Od. 20.17 ............................................ 349 Allusion 19: Plato Rep. 10.620c2-3 : Homer Il. 2.211-277 ................................... 357 5. APPETITIVE MODERATION: MONEY-LOVING............................................. 364

x Allusion 20: Plato Rep. 3.390e5-8 : Homer Il. 9.515-526; 602-605 ...................... 364 Allusion 21: Plato Rep. 3.390e7-10 : Homer Il. 19.278-281 .................................. 370 Allusion 22: Plato Rep. 3.390e10-391a1 : Homer Il. 24.501-594 .......................... 370 6. APPETITIVE MODERATION: SEX .................................................................... 377 Allusion 23: Plato Rep. 3.390b6-7 : Homer Il. 2.1-4 ............................................. 377 Allusion 24: Plato Rep. 3.390b7-c6 : Homer Il. 14.159-360 .................................. 377 Quotation 33: Plato Rep. 3.390c5-6 : Homer Il. 14.296 ......................................... 377 Allusion 25: Plato Rep. 3.390c6-7 : Homer Od. 8.266-369 .................................... 383 7. APPETITIVE MODERATION: DIET ................................................................... 386 Quotation 34: Plato Rep. 3.390b5 : Homer Od. 12.342 .......................................... 386 Allusion 26: Plato Rep. 3.404b12-c1 : Homer Il. 9.360 ......................................... 389 Allusion 27: Plato Rep. 3.404b12-c1 : Homer Il. 1.462-466; 7.316-318; Od. 3.65-66 ........................................................................................................ 389 Quotation 35: Plato Rep. 5.468d2-3 : Homer Il. 7.321 ........................................... 395 Quotation 36: Plato Rep. 5.468d10-e1 : Homer Il. 8.162; 12.311 .......................... 402 8. APPETITIVE MODERATION: MEDICINE ........................................................ 406 Allusion 28: Plato Rep. 3.405e1, 406c2-3, 407e4, 408b6 : Homer Il. 2.731; 4.194, 204; 11.518, 614; 14.2 ............................................................................. 407 Allusion 29: Plato Rep. 3.405e1-2 : Homer Il. 11.582-584 .................................... 407 Allusion 30: Plato Rep. 3.405e2-406a2; 408b1-2 : Homer Il. 11.638-641 ............. 407

xi Allusion 31: Plato Rep. 3.406a2; 408a7 : Homer Il. 11.842-848............................ 407 Proverbial Citation 2: Plato Rep. 3.408a2 : Homer Il. 15.18; 20.188; 21.396; Od. 24.115 ........................................................................................................... 421 Allusion 32: Plato Rep. 3.408a3-4 : Homer Il. 4.134-140 ...................................... 421 Quotation 37: Plato Rep. 3.408a5 : Homer Il. 4.218-219; 11.515 .......................... 421 9. PIETY ..................................................................................................................... 431 Quotation 38: Plato Rep. 3.391a6-7 : Homer Il. 22.15, 20 .................................... 432 Allusion 33: Plato Rep. 3.391b1 : Homer Il. 21.214-227 ....................................... 435 Allusion 34: Plato Rep. 3.391b1-2 : Homer Il. 21.233-327 .................................... 435 Allusion 35: Plato Rep. 3.391b2-3 : Homer Il. 23.142-149 .................................... 440 Quotation 39: Plato Rep. 3.391b3-4 : Homer Il. 23.151 ......................................... 440 Allusion 36: Plato Rep. 3.391b5-6 : Homer Il. 22.396-404; 463-465; 23.21; 187; 24.14-18; 51-52; 416-417 ........................................................................... 443 Allusion 37: Plato Rep. 3.391b6 : Homer Il. 18.336-337; 23.22-23; 164-177; 181-182 ............................................................................................................... 443 IV: CRITICISM OF POETIC LEXIS ............................................................................. 450 1. THE ANCIENT QUARREL RESOLVED ............................................................ 450 Proverbial Citation 3: Plato Rep. 8.544d7-8 : Homer Od. 19.163 .......................... 453 Paraphrase 5: Plato Rep. 8.545d8 : Homer Il. 16.112 ............................................ 453 Quotation 40: Plato Rep. 8.545d8-e1 : Homer Il. 16.113 ....................................... 453

xii Quotation 41: Plato Rep. 8.547a4-5 : Homer Il. 6.211; 20.241 .............................. 473 Quotation 42: Plato Rep. 3.393a4-5 : Homer Il. 1.15-16 ....................................... 479 Allusion 38: Plato Rep. 3.392e3-4, 393a7-b2 : Homer Il. 1.15-21 ......................... 479 Allusion 39: Plato Rep. 3.392e4 : Homer Il. 1.24-32 ............................................. 479 Allusion 40: Plato Rep. 3.392e4-393a1, 393a7-b2 : Homer Il. 1.35-42 ................. 479 2. SOCRATES’ ILIAD................................................................................................ 488 Paraphrase 6: Plato Rep. 3.393d3-5, d8-394a7 : Homer Il. 1.12-42 ....................... 488 3. SOCRATES’ APOLOGOI ...................................................................................... 509 Allusion 41: Plato Rep. 10.614b2 : Homer Od. 9.1-12.453 .................................... 511 Allusion 42: Plato Rep. 10.614b3 : Homer Od. 10.552-553 ................................... 511 CONCLUSION ............................................................................................................... 525 1. THE NEW ALLIANCE BETWEEN PHILOSOPHY AND POETRY ................. 525 2. PLATO’S HOMERIC QUESTIONS ..................................................................... 530 BIBLIOGRAPHY ........................................................................................................... 536 APPENDIX ..................................................................................................................... 563 ABSTRACT VITA

INTRODUCTION A Greek citing poetry seldom takes notice of the context in which the words were uttered, by whom, to whom, or (most important of all) for what purpose. (Sir Kenneth Dover Plato: Symposium ad 174c1)

1. Homer: Educator of Hellas Socrates famously refers to Homer in Book 10 of the Republic as “the educator of Hellas”1 (τὴν Ἑλλάδα πεπαίδευκεν οὗτος ὁ ποιητὴς,2 Rep. 10.606e2-3). The context in which these words appear, however, is seldom noted. Socrates is advising Glaucon to pity, in effect, those who value Homer too highly, those who uncritically accept Homer as their guide in life. He urges Glaucon to “welcome these people and treat them as friends, since they’re as good as they’re capable of being.” (φιλεῖν μὲν χρὴ καὶ ἀσπάζεσθαι ὡς ὄντας βελτίστους εἰς ὅσον δύνανται, Rep. 10.607a1-2) Thereafter, Socrates reiterates the “justice” of having exiled poetry from his city-in-speech (cf. Rep. 10.607b), though he welcomes anyone to offer a defense of poetry, to demonstrate that it does have merit as an educational tool, that it is not only pleasurable but also beneficial (ὠφέλιμος) (cf. Rep. 10.607d-e).3 As it is, however, “the pleasure-giving Muse” (τὴν ἡδυσμένην Μοῦσαν, Rep. 10.607a5) of epic and lyric poetry taken on its own causes the very psychic and civic disharmony that eliminates the possibility of 1

All translations from Plato’s corpus will be based on the edition of Cooper (1997). I have used the Greek text of Slings’ Oxford edition (2003). 3 As I shall argue in detail in the Conclusion, Plato himself acts as poetry’s champion. By citing poetry (in the ways that he does, as will be detailed below) and using it in myths to perform a philosophic function, Plato shows how poetry may be harmonized with philosophical aims and interests. 2

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2 justice,4 and all the good that comes from it, making, as Socrates puts it, “pleasure and pain … kings instead of law or … reason” (ἡδονή σοι καὶ λύπη ... βασιλεύσετον ἀντὶ νόμου τε καὶ τοῦ ... λόγου, Rep. 10.607a6-8). For Plato’s Socrates to refer to Homer as “the educator of Hellas” – as Xenophanes did before him –5 is a statement of fact,6 but not a state of affairs that Plato’s Socrates freely accepts. Not only does Plato’s Socrates overtly criticize both the content and style of Homer’s poetry in the Republic, but he also criticizes the way in which Homer is received his contemporaries. He criticizes those who passively accept Homer’s authority on all matters, those, as Socrates notes above, who deserve our pity because they take Homer and the poets as their guide in life in all matters.7 He also criticizes those who reinforce this attitude: the professional bards, those who can weild the beguiling charm of poetry with such skill that Homer’s characters, even those who are morally reprehensible, seem worthy of imitation to an unreflective public. Plato’s Socrates also finds fault with those who actively misinterpret Homer. He explicit rejects the methods of the allegorists, for example, who find value in Homer’s immoral tales by reading “hidden” or “deeper meanings” into them. Finally, he criticizes those, like him, who are working to redefine the traditional form of Greek pedagogy: the Sophists and rhetoricians. These thinkers preserve 4

If we define justice, as Socrates seems to suggest, as the beneficial harmony between reason, emotion, and appetite, with reason as the controlling or leading element. 5 See fr. 10: ξ ρχς καθ Ομηρον πεì μεμαθκασι πáντες (“Since from the beginning all men have learned according to Homer”). 6 For further discussion of Homer’s overwhelming influence in Greek education, see notes 24 and 73. 7 Characters like Cephalus and Polemarchus, for example, perhaps deserve our pity. They cannot even begin to define something like justice without quoting poetry. They receive their opinions about such important matters passively, virtually unadulterated, in meter, in easily memorized form, directly from the poets. In showing how men like Cephalus and Polemarchus use poetry, Plato is both showing off his skill as a dramatic realist and pointing out the danger of having an excessive, unquestioning dependence on poetic sopia. For more on Cephalus and Polemarchus’ use of poetry, see Quotation 5.

3 the central role of Homer and the poets in Greek pedagogy, but they often do so by misusing the words and authority of the poets, taking them out of their original context in order to support their own arguments. The Republic, then, is a means whereby Plato can explicitly criticize aspects of Homeric content and style, while at the same time implicitly criticizing the reception of Homer in his own society. On the one hand, he avoids the methods of the laymen and bards, those whom Glaucon is advised to pity, by engaging Homer in an active dialogue in the Republic. He questions the meaning of his words and examines if his “philosophic” positions are consistent. He questions the claims of Homer’s expertise and points out the danger of taking him as a guide to one’s ethical behavior. On the other hand, he imitates the activity of certain professionals: the allegorists, rhetoricians, and Sophists, and to a lesser extent the bards, whom he can match with his skill in recalling Homeric lines no matter the situation. His imitation of these professionals is parodic in nature and typical of Plato’s treatment of other self-avowed experts throughout the Platonic corpus, men like Ion and Gorgias, whom Socrates outdoes in their own area of expertise. Like the allegorists, Plato proves himself to be quite adept at discovering “deeper meanings” in Homer, but only ones that benefit and support his own philosophic enterprise. Like the Sophists and rhetoricians, Plato will misuse Homer by misquoting him and misappropriating his authority for his own ends. Despite his imitation of the methods of those whom he criticizes, Plato avoids a position of extreme hypocrisy by misusing Homer in such a way that his poetry serves “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) ends, rather than just pleasurable, expedient, or persuasive ones. As such, Plato shows that Homer need not be exiled from Socrates’ ideal republic, provided that he is used in the right way; if Homer is put in the service of philosophy, subordinated to philosophy, his poetry can

4 become pedagogically useful. Thus, in pointing the way toward the proper use of Homer’s text, Socrates becomes the very champion of poetry that Socrates seeks in Book 10 of the Republic to save it from exile: Therefore isn’t it just [δικαία, d3] that such poetry should return from exile when it has successfully defended itself … then we’ll allow its defenders, who aren’t poets themselves but lovers of poetry, to speak in prose on its behalf and to show that it not only gives pleasure but is beneficial [ὠφελίμη, d8] both to constitutions and to human life. Indeed, we’ll listen to them graciously, for we’d certainly profit if poetry were shown to be not only pleasant but also beneficial [ὠφελίμη, e2].8 To carry out his examination of Homer’s value in his ideal educational system, Plato cites Homer frequently in the Republic,9 93 times in all. While these citations have been variously catalogued in most modern editions of the Republic, they have never been catalogued completely or accurately.10 More important, no work in any language has ever been devoted to interpreting the Republic’s citations of Homer as a whole, either from an exegetical perspective or from a philological one.11 This study will address all of these deficits.

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Rep. 10.607d3-4, d6-e2 While Tarrant (1951, esp. 59-60) contains an important statistical summary of poetic citations in Plato, Mitscherling (2008, 208-9) and now Yamagata (2010, esp. 68-9) (though limited to Homer and Hesiod alone) are the most valuable and up-to-date sources for this material. Howes (1895), while a major leap forward in his day, is now thoroughly out-of-date. All of these aforementioned sources point out the extent to which Homer is by far the most frequently quoted author in the Platonic corpus. See also P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 22) on this point. 10 Brandwood (1976) was long the standard in this respect, but has now been surpassed by the appendices of Mitscherling (2008). I have augmented and corrected this work in some instances, in particular with the inclusion of all known Homeric allusions in the Republic, many of which are first identified in this study. 11 The most complete study of Homeric citations in Plato is Labarbe (1949), a major augmentation to the first modern scholarly work on this subject, Howes (1895). Labarbe’s work, however, does not address all of the Homeric citations in the Republic, covering only those quotations that appear in Republic 2.363b-4.441b (i.e. Books 2-4 only) and a limited selection besides that. In the section below entitled Labarbe’s L’Homère de Platon, I will assess in some detail the value of Labarbe’s work. Mitscherling (2008, Appendix II) also contains commentary 9

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2. Plato and the Poets Plato’s simultaneous exile and extensive use of Homer is in keeping with his paradoxical relation to poetry in general, a relationship complicated enough to have created in the modern era a vast bibliography.12 On the one hand, Plato uses poetry extensively: he includes muthoi in his own work;13 he creates dramatic scenes and develops characters in a way that rivals the poets themselves;14 and at times the poets are even characterized favorably in his works, though here, we must always be aware of the possibility of Socratic irony.15 As a writer and a thinker, Plato

on many of the most important Homeric quotations in the Republic, including, as noted above, a fairly comprehensive listing of those citations. It is interesting to mention, as a side note, that the ancients may have undertaken a kind of study of Homeric citations in Plato. Ammonius Grammaticus (?), in a work likely entitled περὶ ὁμοίων καὶ διαφόρων λέξεων (cf. the Schol. on Hom. Il. 9.540) is said in “Longinus’” On the Sublime 13.3 to have written a treatise on Plato’s Homeric borrowings. 12 Griswold (2009) contains perhaps the best summary of the problem and has the most up-todate bibliography. Other valuable sources include Tigerstedt (1969), Murdoch ([1977] 1990), Gadamer (1980, 39-72), Kraut (1992, 509-10), and P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 239-45). 13 The bibliography of Plato’s use of myth is equally vast. The primary works over the last century include Stewart (1905), Frutiger ([1930] 1976), Edelstein (1949), Reinhardt (1960), Zaslavsky (1981), and Brisson (1998; 2004). Particularly influential on this study are Segal (1978), Edmunds (2004), and the aforementioned works of Brisson. Griffith (1990) and Lincoln (1999) include important discussions on Plato’s manipulation of the authority of mythic discourse. 14 On this point, see, e.g., Tarrant (1955), Schaerer (1969), Gadamer (1980, 39-72), Nussbaum (1986,122-9) with further bibliography, and generally Blondell (2002). 15 Such praise, which is ironic in varying degrees, appears, e.g., at Theaet. 152e, Phaedrus 245a, Symp. 209a ff., Ion 530b9-10, Lys. 214a, Rep. 10.607a ff. See especially Rep. 10.595b-c where Socrates claims that the love and respect he has had for Homer since childhood make him hesitate to attack poetry. I shall refer to Plato’s dialogues here and throughout this study in the traditional order of the tetralogies. See Halliwell (2000, 108) for examples of what he refers to as a “selective approbation of Homer” in Plato.

6 seems to acknowledge the power and beauty of poetic expression – its “charm” –16 particularly that of Homer. He includes muthoi in his own work at least in part as a means of supporting rational discourse when it has reached the limits of its effectiveness or persuasive capability.17 Indeed, the poetic nature of Plato’s style has been recognized since antiquity.18 Conversely, poets and poetry are often harshly criticized in Plato’s works. To cite a few examples for the purposes of illustration, in the Ion and the Phaedrus poetic inspiration is praised, but only under the pretense of illustrating the extent to which poets have no rational understanding of their own art. Similarly, at Apology 22b-c, while Socrates admits that much of what the poets write is fine and good, he criticizes them for not understanding why what they write is fine and good.19 The condemnation of the poets and poetry continues in the Republic, as poets are viewed as an unnecessary addition to the just city, a product of luxury and excess (cf. Rep. 2.373b). In both the Ion and the Republic, the poets are criticized further for not having any understanding,

16

Rep. 10.607c8-d1: “What about you, Glaucon, don’t you feel the charm of the pleasure-giving Muse, especially when you study her through the eyes of Homer?” (ἦ γάρ, ὦ φίλε, οὐ κηλῇ ὑπ’ αὐτῆς καὶ σύ, καὶ μάλιστα ὅταν δι’ Ὁμήρου θεωρῇς αὐτήν). In Greek, the idea of “poetic charm” is typically rendered by the Greek word κήλησις or one of its cognates. The charm of poetry is particularly dangerous according to the argument of the Republic because it seduces the listener away from an appreciation of the truth, so taken is he by poetic imitations or representations of the truth. The charm of poetry may also make the moral degeneracy of Homer’s gods and heroes seem appealing and worthy of imitation. 17 This understanding of myth in Plato is certainly not without controversy. The best, modern summary of the interpretations of Plato’s use of myth appears in Corrigan (2004, 221 ff). The idea that Plato uses myth to support rational discourse originates with Friedländer (1958, esp. 176, 189). More recently, see also Rowe (1993, 10-1; 1996, 8). 18 Aristotle, according to Diogenes Laertius (3.37), remarked that “the style of the dialogues is half-way between poetry and prose,” (On Poets, fr. 4 (Ross)). “Longinus” (13.3-4) also comments on the poetical language of Plato’s prose. 19 If we accept that at least some of the critique of poets in Plato’s works arises from the historical Socrates, we should not be surprised to learn that, in the person of Meletus, the poets took a leading role in the prosecution of Socrates (cf. Ap. 23e).

7 and therefore authority, in regard to the many subjects about which they speak. In the Laws and the Republic, a kind of imaginary or theoretical legislation is even passed against poetry. In the Gorgias, the poets are characterized as flatters (cf. Gorg. 501 ff.). Finally, in the Phaedrus and the Republic, the poetic art represents and causes among those who consume it, a false understanding of the truth (cf. esp. Rep. 10.595b-608c and Phaedr. 248d). Due to Plato’s seemingly paradoxical relationship to poetry, a great deal of scholarship has been devoted to resolving or explaining away the apparent contradictions in Plato’s attitude towards poetry. Exegetical approaches to the problem of Plato and the poets have dominated and continue to dominate the scholarly literature. By studying the implications of various arguments “Plato”20 utters against the poets and poetry and contrasting this with his own use of poetry, in the form of myth in particular, scholars pronounce Plato an enemy or friend of poetry, or someone in-between.21 While there can be no doubt that such inquiries have increased our

20

When I use “Plato” in this study, I mean Plato the author. Elsewhere, when I discuss specific arguments that appear in the dialogue, I will credit them to the characters under whose names they appear, with the understanding that it is Plato the author who is ultimately responsible for the words these characters say; in this respect, Plato is responsible both for the overall dramatization of the dialectical (philosophic) process and of the overall shape of the argument of the work that ultimately points out the benefit of pursuing justice, as it is understood in a Platonic sense, rather than a conventional, Greek sense. I separate Plato and Socrates in this way in order to avoid making a simple and often mistaken correlation between the words of Socrates and the views of Plato the author, with the understanding that such a correlation is sometimes acceptable. Such a distinction, however, allows for a clear divide between dramatic aspects of the work – i.e. how an argument develops because of the characters involved – and philosophic aspects of the work – i.e. how the overall structure of the argument unfolds as arranged by the author himself. 21 On the extremes of this scholarly effort are those who apologize for Plato’s perceived insensitivity to poetic expression (e.g., Gould 1964) and those who harshly condemn it (e.g., Popper 1963) or even attempt to elevate the value of poetry against Plato’s criticism (beginning with Sydney 1595). Many studies on Plato and the poets in recent years have sought to explain the way in which Plato aims to find a middle ground between the concerns and relative value of poetry and philosophy (e.g., Rosen 1988; cf. Naddaff 2002). Some studies, of course, take no sides in Plato’s “quarrel” with poetry, as, for example, Janaway (1995), who simply discusses Plato’s attitude toward poetry as part of the history of aesthetic theory. Others like Brisson

8 understanding of the problem of Plato and the poets considerably, there is only so much insight we can gain using such methods. In contrast, this study will be based not on what “Plato” says about Homer, but how he (by way of his characters) uses him, how the words and stories from Homer are cited in the Republic. In this way, philological considerations will form the foundation for our interpretive work.22

3. Plato’s Homer Such an approach has both wide-ranging implications and limits as well. Such a study, for example, will help to restore to modern readers of Plato an entire layer of intertextual meaning often lost on them.23 Simply put, we need footnotes to recognize and identify most of the

(1998) deny the quarrel altogether, arguing how Plato simply appropriates poetry for philosophic means. In the final chapter of this work (and in preliminary fashion below), I shall argue my own position in some detail: Plato establishes a “just” harmony between poetry and philosophy in the Republic, as a complement to the harmony of reason, emotion, and appetite present in a just soul and polis. Plato appropriates and “philosophically revises” poetry in such a way that it acts as an ally to the aims of philosophy rather than an enemy, in the same way that emotion in the soul is harnessed to work together with reason rather than against it. 22 Benardete (1963) is the first scholar who considered textual issues in his interpretation of Homeric misquotations in Plato, positing that some misquotations in Plato are intentional. His study treats the following Homeric quotations in Plato: Ap. 28d2 : Il. 18.104; Crat. 392e1 : Il. 22.507 & Il. 6.40; and Laws 4.706e1-707a1 : Il. 14.96-102), The work of Lohse (1964, 1965, and 1967) also features a consideration of both textual and interpretive issues. 23 I have found that quite frequently – as Clay (2003) first argues – Plato expects his reader to recall the broader Homeric context of his citations, if not the precise language used. In this way, Clay anticipates my implicit criticism of Dover’s quotation that opened this chapter, “A Greek citing poetry seldom takes notice of the context in which the words were uttered, by whom, to whom, or (most important of all) for what purpose.” In response, Clay (2003, 1-2) writes: This is a strange judgment for the Greeks in general and for Plato in particular. Unlike most readers today, Greeks carried their Homer not in papyrus rolls hidden up their

9 Homeric citations in the Republic; the majority of Plato’s contemporary readers did not. Steeped as they were in the epic tradition,24 many of them would have enjoyed a sort of instant recall of Homeric episodes and turns of phrases,25 particularly given the metrical quality of most of the Homeric citations in Plato and their style, in terms of syntax, dialect, and diction. There is also the fact that Homeric citation was ordinary practice, particularly among the literary and cultural elite, especially in the schools of the Sophists, rhetoricians, and other philosophers.26 As we

sleeves, but in their memory. As a passage from Plato’s Ion makes this clear: to understand Homer was to be able to recite his poetry. The judgement is strange for Plato especially, since he is the most careful author of antiquity and seems to do nothing in vain. The reader of his dialogues must be constantly vigilant to determine the context in which a statement is made, by whom, and for what purpose. In the case of Plato, one can fairly say that we have no quotations of poetry by Plato, only quotations in determined contexts and for determined purposes by his characters. 24 A few anecdotes from antiquity help to illustrate this fact. Although these anecdotes may not be strictly factual, they still help to establish how great Homer’s influence was in antiquity. According to Xenophon (Symp. 3.5; cf. Mem. 4.2.10), for example, Nicias had his son, Niceratus, memorize all of Homer (on Niceratus’ subsequent participation in rhapsodic competitions, see Aristotle Rhet. 1413a7 ff.). The same Niceratus claims to listen to recitations of Homeric rhapsodes nearly every day (Xen. Symp. 3.6). For more on rhapsodic recitations and competitions, including the Panathenaea, see Herodotus (Histories 5.67.1), Plato (Ion esp. 530b2, 535e4-6; Laws 2.658d, 6.764d-e), Ps.-Plato (Hipparchus 228b-c), Lycurgus (Against Leocrates 102), Dieuchidas of Megara (485f6 FGH, via Diogenes Laertius 1.57), and Diodorus (14.109). In the modern era, see Seaford (1994, esp. p. 151-3), I. Cook (1995, 5), Nagy (1996a, 1996b) and M. L. West (1981), with further bibliography. According to Plutarch (Life of Alcibiades 7.1), Alcibiades struck a schoolmaster when he discovered he did not possess a copy of Homer, yet he praised another who had a copy he had “corrected” himself (Plut. Mor. 186e and Ael. V. H. 13.38). On Homer as a guide for living life and as an expert in all matters – a position that is attacked in the Republic and elsewhere in Plato’s corpus – see Xenophon (Symp. 4.6) and Plato (Ion 536c-d). For a modern viewpoint on Homer as “cultural encyclopedia,” see Havelock ([1963] 1982, 61-85). On the recital and memorization of Homer as a central part of the Greek educational curriculum, see esp. Aristophanes (fr. 233 in Poetae comici Graeci and Frogs 7279), Plato (Prot. 325e-326b; Laws 7.810e-811a),and, in the modern era, P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 15 ff.). For Homer’s importance in Greek education in general, see esp. Marrou (1956, 31-41, 246-7, 332-3) and Yamagata (2010, 93 ff.). See also note 73. 25 For more on this phenomenon, see Nagy (1996b, 152). 26 For Homeric citation as part of refined or cultured conversation, see, e.g., Plato (Prot. 312b34); a full account of the sources and interpretation of such practice appears in Howes (1895), Tarrant (1951), Halliwell (2000), and to a lesser extent Ford (1997, 90-6; 2002).

10 know from Aeschines, Lycurgus, and others, Homer and the poets served as important “witnesses” in the Athenian court.27 This study will also shed some light on the state of Homer’s “text”28 in Plato’s day. One of the most important and novel findings of this study is the fact that the Republic quotes Homer

27

See Aristotle’s advice at Rhet. 1375a-b on the value of using poets as witnesses. On the practice of quoting Homer and other poets in court see Dorjahn (1927), North (1952), Perlman (1964), Ober (1989, 177 ff.), Winkler (1990, 252-3), Ford (1999), and Dué (2003, 2). See esp. Ford (1997, esp. 94-6), who writes: “It is true that many fifth century philosophers and Sophists cited Homer along with other old poetry to support their theories, but these passing nods to tradition are usually accompanied by such strong mis- or re-readings as to give the impression that it is the writer’s virtuosity rather than Homer’s wisdom that is being displayed.” (2002, 202) In this work, as noted above, we shall discuss the extent to which some of the misquotations of Homer in the Republic serve to parody the Sophists’ and rhetoricians’ own misuse of the poet. From Aeschines (Timarchus 141), we can infer that such poetic citation had the potential of alienating some jurors, as it could appear to be elitist. On this point, see Dorjahn (1927, 90), Ober (1989, 171 ff.), Ober & Strauss (1989, 251), and P. J. Wilson (1996, 311-3). A mockery of the rhetoricians’ practice of poetic citation appears in Aristophanes (Vesp. 579-80). 28 I do not doubt that Plato quotes from memory, though I do think that it is unlikely that many (if any) of his misquotations derive from such a practice. Like any other educated elite of his day, Plato had a great deal of Homer at his fingertips, but I think that it is unlikely that Plato did not have a written text of Homer to consult. In general, the book-trade in Plato’s day is welldocumented. Indeed, some of the most important evidence about the purchase of books in Plato’s day comes from his own corpus. Consider, for example, Ap. 26d where Socrates discusses his purchase of a copy of Anaxagoras’ works. There is also the likely spurious letter from Plato to Dio that contains mention of a commission to buy Pythagorean texts and Letter 12 that mentions Plato’s receipt of texts from the Pythagorean Archytas. For other ancient sources on the buying and selling of books roughly contemporary with Plato or Socrates, see Aristophanes (Au. 1288), Eupolis (fr. 304 (Kock)), and Xenophon (Anab. 4.5.14). See also Xenophon’s account at Anabasis 7.5.2 of a shipwreck he comes across along the coast of the Black Sea that contained manuscripts. Xenophanes (Mem. 4.2.10) also mentions how Socrates’ associate Euthydemus had his own complete copy of the works of Homer made. If an associate of Socrates had a copy of Homer, I cannot imagine that Plato himself, as a literary elite and founder of a school, did not have one himself. Other near contemporaries of Plato or Socrates who, according to Athenaeus (1.3), are reputed to have had collections of books include Polycrates of Samos, Nicocrates of Cyprus, Euclid the Archon, and a Euripides. There are also accounts about Plato’s own book collecting (especially Pythagorean texts), though the specific anecdotes are likely unreliable. On Plato’s book collecting, see Timon the Satirist (DK 44 A8), Hermippus, Satyrus, Diogenes Laertius (8.15.85), Iamblichus (Pythag. Life 31.199), and Aulus Gellius (Attic Nights 3.17). For a scholarly assessment of this material, see Sallis (1999, 147) and Huffman (2005, 33 ff.). For more on “Plato’s Library,” see Wilamowitz-Möllendorf (1881,

11 with considerable accuracy, defining accuracy as fidelity to our Homeric vulgate.29 By my calculations,30 Plato’s Homer is about 95 percent in accord with our text. In total, the Republic quotes 67 full lines of Homer and 26 other partial lines, or 442 words in all. When we consider the fact that these quotations come from the Iliad and the Odyssey, a set of poetic works consisting of over 27,000 lines and over 190,000 words, our sample size seems to be quite small. Statistically speaking, however, such a sample size is potentially quite meaningful. If such a sample of quoted material were selected completely at random, we could assume a margin of error of ± 4 percent, thus making the “text” of Homer that Plato possessed 91-99 percent in accord with our own. Naturally, the words Plato quotes are not taken at random. They are grouped together in sentences, and so on. Yet, there is a fair degree of randomness within the group of quotations themselves. Many of the groupings, for example, are quite small, with some quotations consisting of only one or two words. Furthermore, the quotations themselves cut across the entirety of the Homeric corpus. In the Republic, Plato quotes from 18 books of the Iliad and 11 of the Odyssey.31 Disregarding statistics for the moment, Plato’s Homeric

285), who contends that Plato was the earliest conscious book collector of antiquity, and Mitscherling (2008, 391 ff.), who bases much of his argument on Hall ([1913] 1968, 27 ff.). On ancient libraries in general, see Thompson (1940), Casson (2002), and Too (2010). 29 I use the term “vulgate” in its conventional sense to mean, as Dué (2001, 402) puts it, “a convenient term for the combined totality of all majority readings of all of the manuscripts of Homer.” See also Haslam (1997, 63ff.) and Nagy (1997, 114-5) on the evolution of and the many ways in which the term “vulgate” may be understood. 30 See the section below Variant Readings: Text and Context for a detailed treatment of the way in which I arrive at this figure. In all of the citations in this study, I have provided all known textual variants and assessed those variants as carefully as possible, taking into consideration published, scholarly material, scholia, and the like. In the end, textual variants do not present a major difficulty, as they are relatively scarce in the citations we will examine. There are only 19 variants that exist in the quoted material, the majority of which (13) concern the Platonic MSS. Even here, the variants are typically minor. 31 If we consider paraphrases and allusions in addition, a mere eight of Homer’s 48 books are not represented, namely Iliad 10 and 13 and Odyssey 2, 7, 16, 18, 21, and 22.

12 quotations become all the more important, considering their antiquity. His Homer, for example, predated the editorial activity of the Alexandrians. Furthermore, Plato’s quotations garner yet further interest and consideration in that he quotes Homer far more than any other author from antiquity. Before we become too confident in the reliability of Plato’s quoted, Homeric material, we must remind ourselves that we are dealing with ancient texts, whose transmission, particularly in the case of Homer, is imperfectly understood and fraught with difficulties. Our primary witnesses, in other words, the manuscripts themselves, scholia, and the indirect tradition, are not completely reliable, nor are they uniform in nature. The fact that we do not know if Plato quoted Homer from memory, or the exact nature of his “text,” are major obstructions to our progress as well. Indeed, given that we do not possess an autograph copy of Plato’s Republic, we cannot even be completely certain that his Homeric citations were not “corrected” by a later scribe.32 Amidst all of this uncertainty, we must proceed with caution, knowing that any insight we gain into the Homeric Question is incidental to our main purpose: understanding how and why Plato incorporates Homer’s poetry into the Republic. At this point, we shall delay delving into issues of the Homeric Question further. Following the completion of this study, in the Conclusion, we shall discuss this ancillary, yet profoundly important, issue in more depth. My position briefly stated will be that the fidelity of Plato’s Homer to our own text suggests that Athens did indeed have an important, formative influence on the final state of the Homeric text,

32

I do think, however, that we can dismiss this possibility with confidence. As I shall argue throughout this work, manuscript F is the one Platonic MS, generally inferior to A and D (cf. esp. Boter 1989), that does seem to exhibit this sort of later “correction.” Furthermore, as I shall point out on a case-by-case basis, there are some misquotations of Homer in the Republic that are so egregious (being either parodic or burlesque in the extreme) that the very fact that they survive in our MSS. suggests that later scribes were not collating them with reference to Homer.

13 despite that text’s relative fluidity at different times and places throughout the history of its transmission.

4. Variant Readings: Text and Context Of the 442 words from Homer that are quoted in the Republic, 57 of those words are either quoted in a different form or are omitted altogether.33 We shall handle separately the issue of omitted lines, of which there are six, below. To treat textual variants first, if we find 57 variant readings, we have a rate of misquotation of 12.9 percent, significantly higher than the figure quoted above that claimed a 95 percent fidelity to our Homer. I shall explain in detail below how I have arrived at a figure of 95 percent, examining each category of misquotation separately. The categories to be considered are those misquotations resulting from grammatical/syntactical convenience” (33 of 57), Atticisms (8), “parodic substitution” (6), omissions (2), “pseudorhapsodic invention” (5), and finally, a series of three (3) variants – extraordinarily minor as we shall see below – that cannot be accounted for by any of these explanations, and which I term “legitimate variants,” perhaps deriving from a performance or manuscript tradition for which we no longer have any evidence. To deal with the issue of omitted lines first, there are a total of six (6) omitted lines (Quotations 6 (1 line), Quotation 8 (1 line), and Quotation 38 (4 lines)), consisting of 56 words total. There are a finite number of ways to account for these omitted lines: 1) Plato’s text did not have the omitted line(s); 2) Plato omitted the line(s) on purpose or 3) accidentally; or 4) a scribe

33

Like Howes, I have not counted among textual differences such things as breathing, accent, word division, or the use of iota subscript or nu-moveable. As Howes (1895, 176) puts it, such differences are “comparatively modern and entitled to little consideration.”

14 or later copyist omitted the line(s). As I shall argue in detail in the body of this work, in all of the aforementioned quotations,34 the most likely explanation is hypothesis 2. In these quotations, the omitted lines are irrelevant to the philosophic or dramatic function they are meant to perform in the dialogue itself. This sort of activity is paralleled in Plato’s Homeric paraphrases, where unnecessary explanatory detail, especially adjectives and epithets, is omitted, which is not germane to the purpose at hand. We cannot without due consideration dismiss the possibility that Plato’s “text” did not contain these lines – such “minus-verses” do appear in the “eccentric” papyri (300-150 BC)35 and occasionally in the Homeric quotations of other authors – but in these specific instances, this does not seem to be the most likely explanation, as I shall explain in detail in my treatment of these citations. Plato’s Homeric citations are quite unusual as compared to the citations of other authors and the “eccentric” papyri in that they do not contain “plus-verses,”36 evidence that may suggest that Plato’s Homer shows more of a direct correlation to our modern vulgate than other secondary sources. On this point, even Gregory Nagy, the founder of the “evolutionary model” of Homeric composition, admits that “this one aspect of Plato’s “text” … suggest[s] the existence of at least a conceptual Athenian archetype.”37

34

Quotation 6, containing six (6) words, is the only quotation of those mentioned where there exists some doubt in this respect as other later authors, likely following Plato’s text, also omit the line in question. See Quotation 6 for a full discussion of this problem. 35 For more on the “eccentric” papyri, see T. Allen (1924, 267), S. West (1967; 1988, 33-48, esp. 35), Foley (1990, 22-6), Nagy (1996b, 173), Haslam (1997, 34), and Collins (2001, 5). 36 On the absence of plus-verses in Plato, see Labarbe (1949, 423), who takes this as evidence in favor of a “Peisistratean Recension,” and Lohse (1967, 229). For more on plus-verses in general, see Nagy (1996b, 139 ff.) with further bibliography there. 37 Nagy 1996b, 143. On the problem of numerus versuum, Nagy continues, “the stabilization of the Homeric numerus versuum in the fourth century is due to the regulation, by the Athenian State of rhapsodic performance traditions … the ‘eccentric’ papyri … with their plus-verses, reveal a later and relatively more fluid phase of rhapsodic tradition when such regulation by the

15 It is important to note as well, as I shall comment on further below, that Plato would not necessarily have been interested in quoting Homer with the same philological loyalty as a modern scholar would desire.38 The purpose of such quotations in Plato is often to prove a philosophic point or make a reference to or examine a perceived (poetic) authority, anything but to preserve accurately for posterity the words of Homer. In fact, as we shall see below, to the contrary, Plato’s intention often seems to distort the words of Homer for posterity. But we shall consider idea more later. To treat the remaining misquotations, it is important to note first that the vast majority of disagreements between Plato’s Homer and our text do not have a textual basis; that is to say, they suggest in no way that Plato was quoting from an alternate textual tradition. Such variants arise out of what I refer to as “grammatical/syntactical convenience” (33). Here, Plato’s characters weave the poet’s words into the syntax of their own sentences. This is particularly common when Homer’s oratio recta is reported in Plato in oratio obliqua, though it applies to other constructions as well. In such instances, Homer’s finite verbs are turned into infinitives, his nominative subjects turned into accusatives, and so on. Other changes resulting from “grammatical/syntactical convenience” include omissions, such as when a particle that performed a necessary explanatory function in the original Homeric context, for example the γὰρ from Quotation 1, is left out, as the verse to which it refers in its original, Homeric context is absent from Plato.

State was no longer in effect” (144). Many other scholars interpret the “eccentric” papyri similarly, namely T. Allen (1924, 267), S. West (1967, 13; 1988, 33-48, esp. 35), Foley (1990, 22-6, esp. 26), and Collins (2001, 20). 38 On this point, see, e.g., Lohse (1964, 15).

16 In both types of misquotation arising out of “grammatical/syntactical convenience,” if we were to reconstruct what would have been in Plato’s text in these instances, inevitably it agrees with our own Homeric text verbatim.39 As such, I do not count such misquotations against the accuracy of Plato’s quotations of Homer. Thus, his rate of misquotation drops from 56 out of 442 words to 26, or just over 5 percent. The next subset of misquotations – Atticisms – is quite difficult to interpret. In these misquotations, Plato’s Homer features Attic rather than Epic forms, similar to the way that, as an American, if I were quoting an Englishman speaking about recognising colour, I would quote him in print, writing “recognizing color.” While such Atticisms are hardly unusual in our vulgate text,40 and further are to b expected in the case of paraphrases, in quotations they are a special problem. Still, only eight (8) Atticisms appear in the whole of the Republic in quoted material. Such Atticisms can be explained in a number of ways, and it is not necessary to assume that they all come about for the same reason: 1) Plato’s Homer was more “Atticized” than our vulgate; 2) later copyists substituted Attic for Epic forms in his Homeric quotations;41 or 3) Plato himself, in rather casual fashion, as above in the case of those misquotations arising from “grammatical/syntactical convenience,” substitutes Attic for Epic forms, to mirror his habit in paraphrases. In general, I argue in favor of hypothesis 3, though 1 and 2 are certainly possible as well. As we shall see, however, Atticisms are more common in the shorter quotations and in the beginning of quotations when Plato is still entrenched, as it were, in his own narrative flow in the Attic dialect. Indeed, it could have very well been the practice in Athens, when quoting 39

In the case of omissions, in particular, we notice that when particles and the like are dropped from Plato’s text, the quotation is typically left as is, without regard to metrical regularity. 40 Scholars have variously interpreted the significance of Atticisms and the poems’ “Attic veneer.” See Haslam (1997, 82-3), with further bibliography in n. 77. 41 For his part, Howes (1895, 184, 188 ff., and 209) argues in favor of hypothesis 2.

17 Homer casually in conversation, to use one’s native dialect. At any rate, it is impossible to determine with any certainty the origin of the Atticisms in Plato’s Homeric quotations. The important thing is to avoid being dogmatic about their interpretation. If they do in fact represent a different textual tradition, Plato’s rate of misquotation stays at just above 5 percent; if they do not, it drops as low as 3.4 percent (15 out of 442 words). It is important to note, however, that this sort of textual change is primarily a matter of orthography. An Atticism is hardly as striking as if we encountered an entirely new word in Plato’s Homer that was not attested in any other source. The next set of misquotations take a great deal of care to interpret correctly. There are a total of twelve (12) textual differences (out of the fifteen (15) that remain to be discussed) that cannot be accounted for with ordinary philological explanations, such as haplography, homoioteleuton, metathesis, and the like. Such variants, moreover, do not seem to be “corrections” of any kind or the result of some sort of scribal error. In the case of many variants, however, the readings are odd enough that many a scribe or modern editor has attempted “corrections.”42 They also do not seem to be the result of an error of memory or carelessness on the part of Plato himself.43 In such cases, then, we are faced with a dilemma: an individual

42

See, e.g., the many way in which editors and scholars handle the Platonic MSS. reading πλωί̈ζοντ’ from Quotation 20. 43 We cannot reject such explanations a priori. Clearly, it is highly probable that Plato made some mistakes. Yet, as Howes (1895, 154) points out, such explanations beg the question: Moreover, if we claim that all the variations, apart from those caused by the carelessness of scribes, are due to the practice of the ancients of quoting from memory, we again beg the question by assuming that none of the variants in the quotations has a real variant Homeric reading to depend upon. Besides, even if it should be granted that these authors may have quoted from memory, -- an induction that does not necessarily follow because of a great difference between a passage quoted and the quotation, -- this explanation would need to be used judiciously and not applied to every apparent case, for many

18 misquotation of this type is either the work of the author himself – it is done intentionally – or derives from an alternate textual or performance tradition of which we no longer have any knowledge. When faced with such a dilemma, we shall employ Jeff Mitscherling’s “principle of authorial respect.”44 Namely, we ought to assume that such a misquotation is on purpose if, given an analysis of the respective contexts of the quotation in Homer and Plato, the misquotation contributes something meaningful to Plato’s philosophical aims. Plato’s philosophical aims are naturally open to interpretation, yet, in the case of such problematic misquotations, I shall consider all possibilities before settling on a definitive explanation. To demonstrate that this interpretive method does not simply mold the outcome to fit one’s interpretive biases, perhaps it is best to show how such a method works, using the example of another ritually recited, performative, oral text: “The Pledge of Allegiance.” Suppose someone were to recite “The Pledge” and we read a transcription of that reading at some later date, recorded as follows: “I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” After reading, we may notice that there is a “missing” phrase, namely “under God.” Now, there are many ways to account for such a missing phrase. In terms of text, the omission could just be “a scribal error.” Whoever transcribed the recitation did so incorrectly. Perhaps it was even the newspaper editor’s mistake, a “second hand” at work, corrupting the text. There could even be another textual issue at work. Although “The Pledge” is a modern text, it has changed over time. It was only in 1954, for example, under President Eisenhower passages that would seem at first sight to offer this as the most plausible explanation will on careful study be explained in a much more satisfactory manner. Further, as Clay (2003, 2) points out, such carelessness is in strict opposition to Plato’s character as a writer and, as I shall add, his actual, exceedingly accurate, habits of quotation. 44 Mitscherling 2005, 295.

19 that the phrase “under God” was added to the text of “The Pledge.”45 Thus, perhaps the person who recited the version of “The Pledge” above attended elementary school in the late 1940’s and so recited “The Pledge” as he had learned it. At this point, then, we are in a sort of interpretive limbo, unless we can either learn more about the text or learn more about the “author” or recite of the text. If we knew, for example, that the recitation was done by a priest, with all things equal, it may be reasonable to assume the omission, if not a textual error, was simply an honest mistake. But if he were an atheist, it may be reasonable to assume that the omission was intentional. We could also assume intentionality if the author were someone with strong opinions about the separation of Church and state. The point in this scenario is to assert that the interpretation of the alleged missing phrase “under God,” or any misquotation really, depends on two factors: text and context. If we want to interpret Plato’s misquotations of Homer properly, we have to bring all of this material to bear on our final judgment. We cannot expect any certainties, but we can make reasonable assertions about the fidelity of the text’s transmission and the author’s intentionality. It is important to note that I am asserting authorial intentionality here in a very limited sense. To clarify, I do not pretend to possess an intimate understanding of Plato’s intentions as a writer. I am merely pointing out that, in the case of a specific kind of writing, namely quotation, an author by definition is recording a finite set of words from another source and does so either accurately or inaccurately. If he records those words inaccurately, by necessity he must commit this misquotation by mistake or intentionally, provided that we can reasonably rule out any textual issues. Our judgment swings in favor of intentional misquotation in those cases in which, given a full appreciation of all issues relating to text and context, such a misquotation is deemed 45

Public Law 83-396, Chap. 297, 68 Stat. 249, H. J. Res. 243, enacted June 14, 1954.

20 appropriate and meaningful. Some issues relating to context in Plato, not already mentioned above, include an appreciation of philosophic context (to what end, for example, is the broader argument aimed), and an appreciation of Plato’s general habits of quotation, namely in general how accurate or careful is he in his quotations. Finally, in the case of Plato, or any author, we have to understand as much as possible the author’s attitude towards his quoted source. I have already discussed in some detail above the problem of Plato’s reception of Homer and poetry in general. While Plato’s relationship to poetry is complex, I generally interpret Plato as being hostile to poetry as it was practiced and as it was consumed in his day. I read the Republic not as an attempt to compete with poetry for a central place in Greek paideia, but rather as an attempt to show how poetry can be “philosophically revised,” received in such a way that it can be in harmony with philosophic goals and values. We shall discuss this position more in-depth below in the final section of the Introduction entitled “Plato’s Dialogue with Homer.” We can use our interpretive framework as outlined above to study misquotations that arise from what I term “implied censorship” and “parodic substitution.” Our misquotation of The Pledge – assuming intentionality – is an example of “implied censorship.” Here the author cites a passage, but either quotes only a part of it, breaking off his citation perhaps at a particularly salient point, or quotes a passage in such a way that a key word or phrase is left out. In Plato, “implied censorship” typically occurs when a Homeric word or passage is omitted in a citation because it runs directly counter to a key philosophic position.46 “Implied censorship” is a particularly effective strategy of misquotation in that, despite the absence of a phrase like 46

A particularly striking example of this practice occurs in both Quotation 3 and Paraphrase 1, where passages that include a positive assessment of the art of the “divine bard” in Homer are omitted in Plato.

21 “under God,” it rings all the more powerfully in the ears of the audience, assuming that at least some are careful and attentive and have an intimate enough knowledge of the text to notice the omission in the first place. The absence of such a phrase, then, in such a context is a more effective means of censorship than if the author avoided the larger passage (thus explicitly censoring it) altogether. “Parodic substitution” occurs when a quoted text contains a word or words that are so far removed in terms of sound (including meter) or sense that, not only is an alternate textual tradition highly unlikely, but the original is changed in such a way that it becomes parodic or even polemical in nature. George Edwin Howes, Dorothy Tarrant, Seth Benardete, Gerhard Lohse, Diskin Clay, and Mitscherling have all noted examples of this sort of misquotation in dialogues like Laws, Republic, and Cratylus.47 To return to “The Pledge,” an example of “parodic substitution,” albeit not a particularly witty one, would be: “…and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for some.” Alternately, in some instances, Plato will use “parodic substitution” to change Homer’s text in such a way that he makes the poet’s words support a philosophical idea. He may also change Homer’s text to parody Homer in a subtle way or criticize the extent of his influence on Greek paideia in general. As suggested above, he may even change Homer’s text at times to parody the Sophists’ misuse of poetry or to point in general how easily poetry may be misused to serve ends other than those for which they were originally intended. In this way, the poets’ words fail, not unlike all written language according to Plato, which cannot defend itself against misinterpretation and is prey to its own wide dissemination.

47

Howes 1895; Tarrant 1951; Benardete 1963; Lohse 1965, 1967; Clay 2003; Mitscherling 2005, 2008.

22 I have termed the final form of Platonic misquotation “pseudo-rhapsodic invention.” Like Nagy,48 I have detected in Plato’s Socrates a hint of the competitive bard and a familiarity with the Homeric text that is so intimate that he is able to manipulate the text to support his argument, even, when he is matched against a professional, competitive bard like Ion. To take one example from Republic 3, in the course of one-half of a Stephanus page, namely 386c-d, Socrates quotes from Iliad 16, 20, 23 and Odyssey 10 and 11. The passages come in rapid succession, and they are all important to the point he is making about the negative depiction of death and dying in Homer. At any rate, there are several instances throughout the Republic where Plato adds or substitutes a word or (formulaic) phrase, typically to finish out a line metrically, in order to disguise some other strategy of misquotation. A specific use of this strategy of misquotation occurs in Quotation 20, where Socrates adds the common epithet for the sea in Homer, ἀτρυγέτοιο, to complete a line in meter that he has already altered through parodic substitution. Misquotation by way of “pseudo rhapsodic invention” is one of the most difficult kinds of misquotation to argue for in a convincing manner. Here, especially, there looms the distinct possibility that such formulaic phrases are simply part of a textual or performance tradition that has been lost to us. For this reason, in calculating Plato’s 95 percent accuracy to our text, I have not counted misquotations arising out of “pseudo-rhapsodic invention” in favor of this figure. Finally, there are only four (4) more misquotations that need to be discussed, all of which can be accounted for in no other way than to assume that they are the result of an alternate textual tradition that has been lost to us. Such textual differences can be explained on a philological basis as natural or predictable variants, and they do not suggest any parodic or 48

Nagy 1999, 138-9.

23 polemical intent on Plato’s part, nor do they further his (or his characters’) philosophic arguments in any way. It is important to note, however, that even in these instances of legitimate, textually based misquotation, the textual discrepancies are so minor, as to be nearly inconsequential. That is to say, they do not indicate that Plato was working from a text that was to any reasonable or meaningful degree any different from our Vulgate. The textual variants in question concern a ταὶ for Homer’s τοὶ (Quotation 14), an ἐπὶ for Homer’s παρὰ (Quotation 20), an ἄστυ for Homer’s τεῖχος (Quotation 24), and a τ᾽ for Homer’s ἄρ’ (Quotation 37).

5. Larbarbe’s L’Homère de Platon To argue that Plato’s Homer is remarkably similar to our own is hardly a new idea. John A. Scott, for example, concluded nearly a century ago that “there must have been a good text of Homer current in Athens, as is shown by the quotations in Plato.”49 In like manner, and perhaps even closer to my conclusions, Jowett & Campbell write: The quotations from Homer in Plato often show slight variations – which are sometimes intentional departures … from the old manuscript text which has come down to us. The changes, however, are far from being sufficient to justify Wolf’s assumption of the unsettled state of the Homeric text before the times of the Alexandrian Grammarians.50 That Plato’s Homer is remarkably similar to own has been pointed out before, but it has not been sufficiently demonstrated. In the only major work on the problem of Plato’s Homeric citations, Jules Labarbe’s 1949 study L’Homère de Platon, the relative accuracy of Plato’s Homeric citations is challenged. This is in no small part due to the fact that Labarbe, influenced by the groundbreaking work on oral poetics by Lord and Parry, was intent on using Plato’s Homeric 49

Scott (1914, 406). Scott does not indicate how he reaches this conclusion, but it is possible that he consulted Howes (1895). 50 Jowett & Campbell 1894, 3:101.

24 citations to overturn the out-dated and extreme view of Arthur Ludwich and others of the existence of a fixed, Pre-Alexandrian Homeric vulgate.51 Thus, while Labarbe’s work has considerable merits, in general he overstates his case when it comes to assigning as the cause of Plato’s misquotations the influence of “the oral tradition.” When Labarbe encounters a discrepancy between Plato’s Homer and our own, his default position is to assume that such a variant is the result of “the oral tradition.” Setting aside the fact that Labarbe’s reasoning is thoroughly circular – according to his argument the “oral tradition” both causes textual variants and is proven by them –52 this interpretive bias causes him to grossly miscalculate and overstate the frequency with which textually based misquotations occur in Plato’s Homer. Thus, while I do not challenge Labarbe’s claim that “the oral tradition” had some effect, perhaps even a fairly significant one, on the text of Plato’s Homer, I cannot accept his overall dependence on such an interpretive theory. Indeed, the main problem with Labarbe’s work53 is that he is completely insensitive to the possibility that some of Plato’s misquotations of Homer may be intentional, a possibility readily accepted by those scholars already cited above,54 and even those, like Nagy,55

51

See Labarbe (1949, esp. 154) on Ludwich (1898). In the few cases in which Plato’s variants are attested elsewhere, it is inevitably among Neoplatonists or other authors, who, in citing Homeric passages identical to Plato, likely followed Plato’s text rather than Homer’s. An example of such a practice occurs at Quotation 6. 53 For further critical analysis of Labarbe’s work see Tate (1952), van der Valk (1952), Tarrant (1953), and Bolling (1955), who criticizes Labarbe’s handling of the issue of numerus versuum. 54 Supra n. 47. 55 See my extended discussion of the difficult problem of authorial intention above under the heading Variant Readings: Text and Context. On the possibility of intentional misquotation in Plato’s Homeric citations, see Nagy (1996b, 142 n. 149: “I concede that there may well be instances of Homeric quotations where Plato has selectively introduced his own rewordings.” Jensen (1980, 107) argues similarly that “[Plato] now and then slightly changed the text so as to suit the argument or the context better.” See also Tarrant (1951, 62), who offers the provocative suggestion that at least some of Plato’s inaccuracies may be a result of Socratic eironeia. The most important views about intentional misquotation of Homer in Plato are contained in 52

25 who use Labarbe’s conclusions to support their own work. Tarrant points out this deficiency in her review of Labarbe’s work, writing that Labarbe does not have “sufficient recognition of those elements of irony, burlesque, and commonplace usage which give to many of [Plato’s] quotations their particular flavor.” Indeed, Tarrant’s comment reveals perhaps the major problem with Labarbe’s work: Labarbe treats Plato merely as a secondary source. He uses Plato only to gain insight into the state of Homer’s text in the fourth century BC. As such, while he considers the textual aspects of Plato’s Homeric citations with supreme diligence, he does not understand these citations on their own terms. He does not, for example, consider the philosophic, dramatic, or historical context – in terms of Plato’s reception of Homer – of those citations.56 For this reason – among others – in a series of articles in the 1960’s, Lohse,57 and to a lesser extent Seth Benardete,58 criticized heavily Labarbe’s reading of several Homeric citations in Plato. These scholars demonstrate in convincing fashion that some misquotations of Homer in Plato seem to be on purpose, not the result of a manuscript tradition affected by the “oral tradition.” Prior to Lohse and Benardete, Tarrant had done preliminary work on the practice of Homeric citation in Plato’s work generally,59 a work that was updated to some extent and significantly improved upon by Stephen Halliwell.60 More recently, Clay and Mitscherling

Benardete (1963), Lohse (1964, 1965, 1967), Clay (2003), and especially Mitscherling (2005, 2008), many of which have been discussed and/or noted above. 56 See Tate’s (1952, 163) criticism of Labarbe, who writes in a similar vein that “[Labarbe] has little to say on the function performed by the ‘quotations’ in Plato’s dialogues or on the topics with which they deal.” Perlman (1964) undertakes a complementary study of the function of poetic citations among ancient orators. 57 Lohse 1964, 1965, 1967. Lohse also improves upon Labarbe’s philological work in several citations, 13 of which concern the Republic, and criticizes Labarbe’s criteria for determining how the “oral tradition” causes textual variants (cf. Lohse (1964, esp. 5-7). 58 Benardete 1963. 59 Tarrant 1951. 60 Halliwell 2000.

26 have significantly advanced the discussion, analyzing specific Homeric citations in Plato and assessing the meaning of several misquotations and the practice of Homeric citation in Plato in general.61 Despite advances in the study of Plato’s Homeric citations, Labarbe’s work still garners a great deal of influence. Nagy, for example, uses Labarbe’s work to support his view, part of his “evolutionary theory,” that a fixed, written text of Homer came about gradually, in five identifiable stages.62 He concludes that “if Labarbe is right [that variants in Plato’s Homer are caused by the oral tradition], we can no longer determine the archetype [that the Alexandrians used to begin to establish a vulgate text].”63 While this current study will reveal that Labarbe is not right, I will not make any sweeping claims about the existence of an archetypal Homeric text. Indeed, like Nagy, I do not accept the idea that there is even such a thing as one real (PreAristarchan) Homeric text from which all others derive or from which they deviate. For our present purposes, what matters most is understanding what relation Plato’s text of Homer – and here it does not matter if we conceive of that text as one he had memorized or consulted in written form – has to our own. What we can conclude is that despite the fluidity of Homer’s 61

Clay 2003; Mitscherling 2005, 2008. For critiques of Nagy’s “evolutionary theory,” see Pelliccia (1997), Powell (1997, 30 n. 54), Janko (1998, 207), who specifically criticizes Nagy’s reliance on Labarbe, Nagler (1998), and Finkelberg (2000). A positive review of Nagy’s theory and philosophic approach appears in Kahane (2001). 63 Nagy 1996b, 145. The italics above are his. As Janko (1998, 207) points out, van der Valk (1964, 266 ff.) had already reached the same conclusion as Nagy in respect to the effect Labarbe’s work had on the Homeric Question. Van der Valk, however, posits a dual transmission, by means of both writing and orally through rhapsodic performance, a conclusion supported by Foley (1990, 6-9), Bakker (1993, 10-2), and Collins (2001, esp.161). As Janko (1998, 207) points out, “On this [van der Valk’s] hypothesis there is indeed an archetype which can be established … on Nagy’s, there is not.” In an earlier work, Janko (1992, 12-5) argues that van der Valk’s hypothesis of a dual transmission fits the statistical evidence he has found “that the texts of early Greek hexameter poets were fixed at different stages in the evolution of the epic diction,” rather than “crystallized,” as Nagy argues. 62

27 text, dependent on time and place, Plato’s Homer had a remarkable similarity to our own. Plato’s Homer, moreover, be it a private copy, a school copy, or perhaps even a “state” copy, carried weight on its own or was part of a textual or performance tradition, likely originating in Athens, that had a definitive role in establishing the final form of our Vulgate. As noted above, we will discuss the implication of this study’s effect on the Homeric Question in more detail in the Conclusion.

6. The Art of Platonic Misquotation Given that I have argued in some detail above that Homer’s text is represented so accurately in Plato’s Republic, it may be odd to assert here that the Republic still abounds in Homeric misquotation. While the text of Homer is typically represented faithfully, to borrow Halliwell’s translation for mimesis as “representation,”64 great violence is done to the “representation” of Homer’s text in the Republic.65 Like most products of mimesis, in accord with the argument of the Republic, Plato’s Homer is frequently faithless to the original. Most of the Homeric misquotations in the Republic, then, are not textual in nature, they are misquotations in an altogether different sense: they are misrepresentations, misinterpretations, misappropriations of Homer’s original. In addition to Plato’s Homeric quotations, there are also numerous allusions to (42) and extended paraphrases of (6) Homer in the Republic that are often inaccurate, strikingly incomplete in some way, or used in such a way as to misrepresent or revise the

64

Halliwell 2002, 53-4. See the cross-reference of the quotation of Il 17.588 at Symposium 174c1 in Quotation 2, where Socrates accuses Homer of “corrupting” (διαφθεῖραι, b6) and “treating with contempt/violence” (ὑβρίσαι, b6) the traditional proverb “the good on their own accord go to feasts of the good” (αὐτόματοι δ̓ ἀγαθοὶ ἀγαθῶν ἐπὶ δαῖτας ἴασι).

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28 character of Homer’s original.66 Indeed, both in terms of degree and frequency, Plato is the consummate artist of Homeric misquotation from antiquity. Furthermore, in his allusions to and paraphrases of Homer, Plato will use the greater freedom that this mode of citation allows to develop further such strategies of misquotation noted above as “implied censorship” and “parodic substitution.” In a process I shall refer to as “philosophic revision” – a concept I have already mentioned but will develop in more detail below – Plato will cite Homer in such a way that the poet’s words are so far removed from their original context and (literary) function as to make them serve a philosophical purpose. We can imagine that on one level, such misquotations may serve to parody the way in which others (mis)used Homer, especially the Sophists, but on another level, Plato also shows the proper way, if you will, to (mis)use Homer. In the same way that Plato’s Socrates argues in favor of the use of “noble lies,” he misuses Homer in a way that is noble, by turning his poetry into something that works for the Good, rather than the seeming truths of the Sophists and rhetoricians. Many of Plato’s citations also feature what I shall refer to as “ironic approval.” In such citations, Plato will quote a phrase from Homer that is clearly awkward or inconsistent, pretending on occasion, in standard Socratic ironical practice, to approve of the bard’s words while in reality roundly mocking them. Plato does this quite often with Homer’s use of epithets, which he takes as inconsistent with a Homeric character’s moral quality, taking these terms in an absolute, philosophic sense, rather than in their traditional, poetic sense. Plato will also have Socrates, for example, refer with “ironic approval” to the expertise of Homer, though, instead of taking him as an expert in something important like the

66

This misuse of the authority of Homer’s words was common among other writers, philosophers, Sophists, and rhetoricians in antiquity. The extent, frequency, and general character of Plato’s misappropriations of Homer, however, are unique, as noted in this study and earlier by Planinc (2003) 12-3.

29 art of generalship, such praise in the Republic is limited only to matters of the body or food. In this way, Plato mocks the claims others make about Homer’s authority on all matters, pointing out that in matters of the belly the poet perhaps knows something, but in matters of the soul, nothing.67 Finally, as shall be discussed in Chapter 4 in some detail, a number of citations, particularly Socrates’ straightforward prose rendering of the opening of the Iliad in Paraphrase 6, feature an implicit criticism of Homeric style. It is important to note finally that not all of the citations of Homer in the Republic are misquotations in the sense discussed above. Not all of the Republic’s citations contain some kind of criticism or perversion of the poet’s text. There are some citations of Homer in the Republic that are used in quite conventional fashion, as proverbs, as mere embellishment to the cultured conversation between Socrates and his interlocutors.68 In such citations, epic conventions may be exploited at times for philosophic purposes, a phenomenon we shall discuss in Chapter 4 on poetic lexis, but generally these proverbial statements are divorced from their original context to such an extent that they do not figure in the Republic’s program of poetic misappropriation and assimilation. Such quotations are merely a natural reflection of the activity of Plato’s cultured, poetically-inclined contemporaries.

7. Methodology I will analyze the citations in my study in the framework both of their original poetic context and their new philosophic context. In this way, I will be able to analyze the extent to which Plato not 67

On this point, see especially Allusions 26-7 and Quotation 35. For a full discussion of the use of poetic proverbs in Plato, see Tarrant (1951) and Halliwell (2000).

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30 only alters Homer at the level of text – the explicit aspect of his misquotations of the poet – but also how he disregards, suppresses, or changes the import of the Homeric original – the implicit aspect of his misquotations of the poet.69 To begin with, I will locate all of Plato’s citations of Homer in the Republic, categorizing them as quotations, allusions, or paraphrases. Part of this work will include the disambiguation of citations, that is to say, an analysis of citations that do not have referents that are entirely clear70 or which perhaps refer to Homer as well as another author.71 In such cases, we will discuss all possible referents in detail. This will also be our procedure when a poetic citation from the Republic is repeated elsewhere in the Platonic corpus. Subsequently, I will analyze each type of citation at the level of both text and context. In terms of text, with quotations, I will consider the meaning of any textual variants;72 with allusions and paraphrases, I will consider the significance of any changes Plato makes to Homer’s presentation of a given episode, including matters of both content and style. In terms of context, in Plato I will explain both the dramatic (i.e. speaker, setting, etc.) and philosophic context (i.e. the argument being made specifically and in terms of the larger context of the work, etc.) of each citation. In Homer I will explain the dramatic and literary context (i.e. how the episode functions in terms of the larger context of the work, including the way in which it may develop specific themes, etc.) of each citation. For both authors I will also discuss generally matters of cultural context, including but not limited to the 69

Clay (2003) is the first scholar to have argued that context is a crucial part of understanding the meaning of Plato’s citations of the poets in general. 70 See, e.g., Disputed Citation 3, which some scholars take as a reference to the Cypria, others to Il. 20.4-25. 71 See, e.g., Allusion 1, which appears to be an allusion both to Od. 19.203 and Hesiod Th. 26-8. 72 For Homer, I have used van Thiel’s editions of the Iliad (Hildesheim, 1996) and the Odyssey (Hildesheim, 1991). Where applicable, however, I have consulted multiple editions, and also scholia and the indirect tradition. For the Republic, Boter’s The Textual Tradition of Plato’s Republic (Leiden, 1989) has proved invaluable.

31 cultural and pedagogical prestige of Homer in Plato’s Greece, literacy and libraries, the performance of Homer, and the use of Homer in education in Plato’s Greece. In this way, I will be able to judge as completely and accurately as possible the meaning of Plato’s citations of Homer individually and as a whole. By studying textual issues fully, I will also be able to explain exactly why Plato’s language differs from Homer’s, be it something as simple as a dialectical difference – where Plato substitutes Attic forms for Homer’s epic ones – or outright invention or perversion. By studying context fully, I will be able to explain both why Plato cites Homer in the first place and for what reason, including why he presents – or misrepresents as the case may be – Homer’s original in the way he does.

8. Plato’s Dialogue with Homer Given the extent to which Homer is cited in the Republic, it is fair to say that Plato engages in a meta-dialogue with Homer, one that overlays the dramatic one between Socrates and his interlocutors, as Plato examines “Homer’s” views on such things as the gods, and the nature of virtue. While Plato readily acknowledges the cultural prestige of Homer and the poets, its central pride of place in Greek pedagogy,73 it is clear, as the dialogue progresses, that poetry,

73

On which point see note 24 supra. See Bosanquet (1895, ad loc. 383a7, 391a3-5, 404b) on ironic or humorous deference to Homer in the Republic. For poetry’s relation to Greek pedagogy in Plato, see Plato (esp. Prot. 312b2-3, Hipp. Min. 365b, Ion 536e1-3; cf. Xen. Symp. 4.6). On the practice of learning Homer by heart, see Plato (Prot. 325e-326b, Laws 7.810e-811a). For the use of Homer in education in general, see esp. Marrou (1956, 80-3) and also Jaeger ([1939] 1986, 35 ff.), Lee (2003, 67-9), Powell ([2004] 2007, esp. 53), and Kitto ([1951] 2009, 44 ff.). On Homer as a cultural “encyclopedia” in ancient Greece, see Havelock ([1963] 1982, esp. 6186): “[Homer] provided a massive repository of useful knowledge, a sort of encyclopedia of ethics, politics, history and technology, which the effective citizen was required to learn as the core of his educational equipment” (27). See also P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 15-7): “It was

32 particularly as it is used and consumed by his contemporaries, cannot serve as the foundation of a city or soul, if it is in any way to reach its ideal form.74 Poetry is beautiful, charming, seductive even, but its reception is flawed.75 In the Republic, then, even at the level of text, poetry is transformed into something that is “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) and “useful” (χρήσιμος).76 Passages that are considered to be too dangerous for the youth to hear are censored, yet censored with no small measure of irony. Recall that Socrates carries out his censorship by citing, that is to say, preserving, the very passages he recommends for elimination.77 Other poetic passages are condemned to a far meaner fate. In order to turn Homer – or poetry in general – into an effective educational tool – or to put it another way, a tool of philosophy – Plato variously misuses, misappropriates, or otherwise misrepresents Homer at the level of quotation, allusion, and paraphrase. Even when Plato’s citations of Homer are accurate, he takes the poet’s words outof-context or interprets them in such a way that words, which used to perform a poetic function, now serve a philosophic one.

through poetry in this broad sense that one was trained to become a good citizen … Poetry is studied not for its aesthetic qualities, but for its ethical content … ... the distinction which we now make between poets and moral philosophers is not one which would have occurred to prePlatonic thinkers.” On the ability of poetry to influence one’s character, see, e.g., Aristophanes (Frogs 1009-10, 1054-6), with the commentary of Dover (1993, 12-6). On poets as teachers in general, see Harriott (1969, 105-9). 74 On this point, see esp. Rep. 10.605b-c. 75 On the tension between pleasure and the educational function of poetry, see Chapter 1 of this study. For ancient sources, see Gorgias (DK B23), Dissoi Logoi (3.17), and Plato (Gorg. 502b). For a modern source, see esp. Blondell (2002, 106). 76 For the development of this idea, see Chapter 1. 77 See a similar point made by Yoshino (2005, 1851): “Censorship is marked by a paradox, insofar as it is hard to discuss the material one wishes to suppress without risking its dissemination. Yet Socrates makes the poetry he would ban abundantly available to the reader -Book III is more bedizened with imitative poetry than any other book of the Republic. Socrates permits us, and himself, to hear the siren song of poetry before expelling it.”

33 Thus, while Plato recognizes the power and beauty of poetic expression – if we believe the anecdote, Plato was perhaps a poet himself in his youth –78 viewed from the perspective of its pedagogical usefulness, poetry’s “charm” takes on an overwhelmingly negative connotation in the Republic. Accordingly, Plato works to revise, misinterpret, misquote, distort, and at times even discard Homer’s original words until they are replaced by philosophy or are made to be in accord with his own philosophic aims, arguments, and values, a process that I have already referred to as “philosophic revision.”79 In this way, Plato’s use of Homer is supremely ironic. He defends poetry, he, in fact, shows how it can be pedagogically useful, yet claims that the poets should be censored, all the while constantly citing poetry. He denies Homeric authority, yet uses that very authority to add persuasive power to his own philosophical positions. He implicitly criticizes the Sophists’ (mis)use of Homer by misusing the poet himself. The irony is justified, however, when we realize that the Republic shows how poetry ought to be received. The Republic demonstrates that if the beauty and charm of poetry are harnessed properly, made to be in harmony with philosophy, poetry itself can be saved. It can preserve and encourage social and psychic harmony rather than destroy it. The situation is akin to the harmonious relationship that exists in a just soul or polis between reason, emotion, and appetite. And so, in the Republic, Plato strikes a beneficial harmony between philosophy and poetry, thus

78

See Riginos (1997, 45-9) for a critical assessment of all sources involved. That Plato is unfair to the poets (as were many of his contemporaries) when he cites them is an observation that is at least a century old. While I would omit the word “unconsciously” from the following quotation, see the commentary of Jevons (1903, 543): “We would only point out in passing that Plato is often -- no doubt unconsciously -- unjust to the poets. Sometimes the passages which he quotes from them are reprehensible, not in themselves, but in the use made of them by the unscrupulous Sophists and teachers of the day, who wrested what suited their purpose from the context and gave it altogether a new meaning.” 79

34 resolving in a sense their “ancient quarrel.”80 Poetry remains in the Republic, in the ideal city, but in vastly altered form. It is misused, but only to cultivate the Good. It is no longer memorized or recited, without due reflection. Instead, its assertions and opinions are used as the starting point for philosophy. Poetry is absorbed into philosophical dialogue, engaged as if it were part of the substance of philosophy itself, and rejected when it leads to behavior or opinions that are neither good nor beneficial. Poetry, in its new form, now engages the listener. Poetic texts, in the hands of Plato, in the hands of the character Socrates in particular, become fodder for philosophic discussion. Where poetry remains unadulterated, in the form of Plato’s myths, it is composed in such a way in the first place that it is in accord with the aims and values of philosophy. In what is to follow, we shall study the Republic’s citations of Homer in thematic sequence, beginning with an examination of poetic falsehood (Chapter 1), and then moving on to more specific criticisms of poetic logos (content). Chapter 2 will treat stories about the gods; Chapter 3 will treat stories about the heroes. The final chapter, Chapter 4, will treat poetic lexis (style).

80

Rep. 10.607c.

I: POETIC FALSEHOOD πολλὰ ψεύδονται ἀοιδοί (Solon fr. 29 [West]) Poets tell many lies.

1. Truth and Falsehood in Poetry and Philosophy This chapter will put Plato’s criticisms of “poetic lies” in their proper context. We shall see that while Homer and Plato both aim at conveying “the truth” in some sense, they do so in vastly different ways. This would not cause so great a conflict – the “ancient quarrel” perhaps that Socrates alludes to in Book 10 of the Republic – were it not for the fact that both Homer’s and Plato’s respective works at times seek to convey “the truth” about matters that are essentially unknowable, such as the nature of divinity. In conveying such impossible-to-know truths, both writers are in essence forced to lie. Plato’s Socrates claims, however, is that it is possible to lie well. Thus, in the Republic, Socrates will criticize Homer for lying badly, for telling lies that are neither “useful” (χρήσιμος) nor “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος), for telling lies that will be particularly damaging to his “passive” audience. To effect his critique of poetic lies, Plato’s Socrates will censor and revise Homer’s poetry and even use some “approved” poetic lies, such as The Myth of Er. In the end, Homer’s poetry – unsuitable in its original context as an educational tool – through Socrates’ dialectical criticism becomes pedagogically useful. As a negative examplar, Homer, in ironic fashion becomes the “educator of Hellas” once more. In his new role as

35

36 educator, however, Homer’s authority is reigned in almost completely, or at least made to serve the interests of philosophy. To put this entire argument in context, below we shall outline briefly the function and use of truth and falsehood in both Homer and Plato. Homer’s Use of the Truth In the oral culture in which the Homeric poems originated, poetry helped to preserve “the truth” in one sense by recording the deeds of great men of the past.1 In this way, in keeping with the etymological roots of ἀλήθεια, one of the many words in Greek roughly corresponding to our English word for “truth,” the κλέος of great men would “not be forgotten.”2 While there are times when the poets would call upon the Muses for help to recall this information, such as the details related in The Catalogue of Ships at Iliad 2.484-487,3 as Louise Pratt points out,4 such episodes were the exception rather than the rule. The Greek archaic poets were typically not aiming at a factual or literal truth like that sought today in a History textbook. Indeed, to take a cynical view, even on the rare occurrences when the Muses are appealed to as “eyewitnesses,”5 such passages are perhaps, as Pratt characterizes them, “themselves fictional, part of the narrative game,”6 a way of giving instant, divine authority to the poet’s words.7 Much of what the poets

1

Detienne ([1967] 1996) offers one of the most influential views on poets as “masters of the truth” in archaic Greece. See also Sikes ([1931] 1980, 4), Luther (1935, 124-6), Setti (1958), Accame (1963), and Maehler (1963, 19-20, 32, 41). More generally see Redfield ([1975] 1994), Nagy ([1979] 1999), and Gentili (1988). 2 On this etymology, see Chantraine (2000, ad loc.). 3 Other instances in which Homer calls on the Muses for specific information include Il. 2.761, 11.219, and 14.509. It is interesting to consider the hold such factual appeals must have held in the popular imagination. The Athenians, for example, perhaps had themselves spuriously inserted into The Catalogue. 4 Pratt 1993, 48. 5 On how Hesiod plays with the idea of the Muses as eyewitnesses, see Heiden (2007). 6 Pratt 1993, 53.

37 recite is in the form of a κλέος after all, not a factual account of great deeds, but rather, as the word suggests, all that has been “heard” about such things.8 To perform its preservative function well, poetry had to be entertaining. A bad story would be forgotten. We get some important insight into the fickle nature of the poet’s audience from Telemachus at Od. 1.351-152: “for men praise that song the most which comes the newest to their ears” (τὴν γὰρ ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπικλείουσ’ ἄνθρωποι, / ἥ τις ἀκουόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται.).9 Below, we shall see how this desire for pleasure and novelty on the part of the poet’s audience helps to drive the way in which “the truth” is sought after in archaic poetry and indeed what “truths” are preserved in the first place. Poetic Lies in the Service of the Truth We noted above that Plato’s Socrates argued that it was possible “to lie well.” For Plato’s Socrates, as we shall discuss in detail below, this means to lie with an aim toward utility: the good and the beneficial. For the poets, however, “lying well” means telling a story that entertains and thus survives. Lying well means telling ψεύδεα as beautifully as possible. If a tale does not entertain its audience, if it does not move them or please them, it is forgotten; “the truth,” in the sense of ἀλήθεια, lost. Indeed, even though the Muses may have originally been goddesses of memory, they are cited far more frequently in Homer and other poets as

7

The reception of these sorts of pronouncements would have certainly varied considerably both in terms of time – in the archaic versus the classical age – and the level of sophistication of the audience. 8 On this point, see Pratt (1993, 43). On the relationship between heroic kleos and the truth, see Heiden (2008, esp. 133). On the effect that written text have on the truth, see Walsh (1984, 116) and Pratt (1993, 23). 9 For Plato’s treatment of this very passage see Quotation 1 below.

38 embodiments of beauty and elegance.10 Lying, in the sense of fiction at least, is the poet’s stock and trade.11 The poet promises to engage the imagination and emotions of his audience, not to provide them with factual information. We have to keep in mind, too, the moral value that the Greeks conventionally placed upon lying. Lying, in the sense of deceit, intrigue, or cunning is perfectly acceptable, indeed praiseworthy, as long as it is used against an enemy.12 Consider, among many examples, Athene’s delight in Odysseus’ lies at Od. 13.287-295: So [Odysseus] spoke, and the goddess, flashing-eyed Athena, smiled, and stroked him with her hand, and changed herself to the form of a woman ... and [Athena] addressed him with winged words: “Cunning [κερδαλέος, 291] must he be and knavish [ἐπίκλοπος, 291], who would go beyond you in all manner of guile [δόλοισι, 292], aye, though it were a god that met you. Bold man, crafty in counsel, insatiate in deceit [δόλων, 293], not even in your own land, it seems, have you ceased from guile [ἀπατάων, 294] and deceitful tales [μύθων τε κλοπίων, 295], which you love from the bottom of your heart.13 Even the gods in Homer – to Socrates’ chagrin – are frequently depicted as liars, constantly vying for supremacy over one another in their acts of deceit and intrigue.14 The poetic art itself is synonymous with the act of making “lies.” Odysseus, in his role as master liar and deceiver, is frequently compared to a bard. Indeed, he becomes a lying bard himself when he tells different

10

Pratt 1993, 51. The inevitable problem here is that ψεῦδος in Greek could mean either “fiction” or “falsehood”; the Greeks made no meaningful or explicit distinction between the two. 12 For more on positive associations of lying and deceiving in archaic poetry, see Pratt 1993, 55 ff. 13 All translations from Homer’s Odyssey are based on A. T. Murray (1919). I have chosen a somewhat archaic English translation in order to convey clearly in my citations the difference between Homer’s poetic Greek and Plato’s prose. 14 See, e.g., Hera’s seduction of Zeus at Il. 14.159-360. For the treatment of this episode in the Republic, see Allusion 18 & Quotation 33 below and Allusion 19 below. 11

39 versions of his tale to the Phaeacians, Eumaeus, and his own wife, among others, some tales that are clearly an admixture of fact and fiction, if not altogether false.15 For an archaic poet like Homer to convey “his truth” – and due to the agonistic nature of archaic poetry, the idea of “truth” is perhaps that much of a relative term –16 a poet had to be a skilled liar; he had to possess a “cunning in his craft” or be σοφός, in the poetic, not the philosophic sense of the word.17 Ultimately, poetic truth comes to be subordinate to that which the poet, or rather his audience, prizes most:18 in the hierarchy of poetic values, beauty, invention, fiction, and emotive power are held high above “the truth,” however it is defined.19 Plato’s Use of the Truth

15

The frequency with which Odysseus lies about and during his journey makes a critical reader wonder if he ever had any of the fantastic adventures he reports. Yet, many of his lies are entertaining, both because of Odysseus’ impressive ingenuity and because of dramatic irony – whereas the audience member knows “the truth” about Odysseus’ identity, those he encounters often do not. For more on Odysseus’ storytelling, see Thalman (1984, 170-3), Marnaghan (1987, 148-75), Pucci (1987, esp. 98-109, 226-7), and Goldhill (1991). 16 Indeed, if poets “compete” in their telling of different versions of the same story, what claim can possibly be made for a desire in archaic Greek poetry to obtain the objective truth, or to offer a factual account of a given event? 17 In archaic poetry σοφός means “skilled in any handicraft or art”; in Plato the term comes to mean “skilled in the sciences, learned, profound, wise.” For a more detailed treatment of the evolution of the term σοφός see LSJ ad loc., Nussbaum (1986, 123), and Ford (2002, 47). In an ironic sense, Plato will also use σοφός at times to describe a poet as “abstruse” or “obscure.” 18 It is perhaps this “democratic” element of poetry, in the sense that poetry is judged to be good by the masses, rather than those who have a real knowledge of what is fine and good, that must have devalued the art form in Plato’s eyes. 19 See Pratt (1993, 36) and generally Ford (2002) for more on the truth-value of archaic poetry and the importance of pleasure as a goal of this poetry. One important observation to make here is that Plato, in his assessment of poetry, will not treat poetry fairly, that is to say, on its own terms; in his treatment of poetry in the Republic Plato treats poetry as if its goals ought to be those of philosophy. Whether Plato was aware of his unfairness is an altogether different question.

40 In Plato, unlike Homer, truth is not primarily aimed at in a preservative sense,20 as a means to record a hero’s kleos or a heroic past.21 Truth claims are also not made by means of an appeal to an unverifiable authority, like the Muses.22 The truth does not depend on the aesthetic sensibilities of his audience.23 Nor is “the truth” dependent only on persuasion, or for that matter emotional appeal, as with the poets’ or even the Sophsts’ audience, or the rhetoricians’ dicasts.24 Truth in Plato is more a matter of substance than style. As much as possible, Plato wants to take the subjective response of the listener out of the equation in his search for the truth. The search for “the truth” is still an eristic venture in Plato; he is competing directly, explicitly with the poets (including bards, Sophists, and rhetoricians) for the dominance of philosophy in Greek politics and pedagogy.25 But ultimately, Plato’s search for the truth is cooperative as well. As opposed to the agonistic nature of poetry wherein one poet competes against another with his version or unique telling of a myth, in a philosophic dialogue the participants may begin with different beliefs (δόξαι, which represent versions of “the truth,” if 20

Although this often goes unmentioned in scholarship, Plato does seek to preserve the memory, teachings, and methods of his mentor Socrates (though not in an uncritical way or even a way in which irony is not sometimes employed). It is not surprising that Plato preserves his “hero of the psyche” in reference to and in comparison with various mythological heroes. On such comparisons see Clay (1972), T. West (1984, 20 ff.), Irwin (1988), Holway (1994), and Clay (2000, 51-60). 21 Plato will use muthoi, however, to arrive at “the truth” by way of an imaginary mythic past. On this topic see generally Brisson (2004) and further bibliography there. 22 A possible exception in Plato, however, may be the authorities that are cited in his telling of certain myths, like The Myth of Er. 23 That is not to say, of course, that characters in Plato like Socrates will not present his argument in such a way that they will be most persuasive to his listeners. For example, in the Phaedo, Socrates seems clearly to present his “proofs” for the immortality of the soul in such a way as will satisfy his youthful, Pythagorean audience. 24 See T. Knight (1993, 586 n. 22) on Socrates’ disdain of courtroom practice: “For Socrates is distinguishing arguments that aim to convince by virtue of rhetorical tropes from those which rest upon objectively demonstrable proofs. Hence he regards ‘arguing fairly and to the point’ and ‘speaking the truth’ as interchangeable terms.” 25 For more on the eristic nature of Greek ἀλήθεια, see T. Knight (1993, 584 ff).

41 you will), but the point of dialogue is to reconcile these beliefs in a mutually beneficial way. There is no “winner.” Both sides benefit by removing their ignorance and venturing closer to the truth. Indeed, dialectic cannot progress without the consent of the interlocutor in each step of the argument, with each premise and preliminary conclusion agreed to; dialectic also cannot progress unless the interlocutors “play by the rules,” that is, unless they tell “the whole truth” – what they honestly believe to be the case – and they frame their argument in terms of “being” (τὸ ὄν) and “truth” (ἀλήθεια), not “seeming” (δοκεῖν) and “opinion/reputation” (δόξα). So for Plato the truth is not that which is “worthy of belief,”26 but that which has been mutually determined through the process of dialectic to be “that which is” (or perhaps in a negative sense – perhaps the more common result of the Socratic elenchus – “that which is not.”). As Rudolf Bultmann argues, unlike the Sophists, rhetoricians, and poets, who sought to arrive at a persuasive or authoritative form of truth, Plato sought a universal truth, “that single truth which underlies the many truths of the world.”27 As Anthony Petruzzi points out,28 Plato has much more trouble in his challenges to poetic truth than to the truth maintained by the Sophists, rhetoricians, and other philosophers. Plato can refute the “dogmatic or doctrinaire” using logic and argumentation. He can demonstrate flaws in their reasoning. Plato has a much more difficult task, however, with the poets . He cannot use a strictly logical approach; rather, he has to employ a “social” one, and so recommends “control of the media of culture and education.”29 What Plato proposes, however, is not a dissolution of

26

As in Mimnermus fr. 8. Bultmann 1964-76, 239. 28 Petruzzi 1996, 29. 29 Petruzzi (1996) fails to point out that this “control,” however, in the Republic is only metaphorical – recommended for a city-in-speech, and one only “established” in the first place to see the human psyche writ large. 27

42 poetry altogether. Indeed, ironically, he uses poetry to effect its own undoing. Like the Sophists and rhetoricians, he cites the poets constantly. He misappropriates their ideas, misinterprets them, and misquotes their words. But he does so to “philosophically revise” the poets in order to make their words tools for an educational curriculum that harnesses the power and beauty of poetry for useful and socially responsible ends rather than for pleasurable or, in the case of the Sophists and rhetoricians, persuasive ones. In so doing, he must condemn the poets as liars. Yet, he calls them liars in a qualified sense. In disputing the poets’ position about the nature of divinity, for example, Plato’s Socrates cannot assert that he himself knows the absolute truth about such matters. So here Plato’s Socrates will make an important distinction between the base lies of the poets and the noble lies of the philosopher. Immediately below, we shall see exactly how Plato’s Socrates maintains this distinction and how the philosopher uses lies in service of “the truth.” Philosophic Lies in the Service of Truth Where philosophy comes into most bitter conflict with poetry is in attempting to set forth “the truth” about those things which cannot be known with any certainty, what I shall refer to as “religious truth,” the belief in a set of propositions about that which is unknowable, such as the nature of divinity, death, and so on, which are accepted on principle, not demonstrated fact. At Rep. 1.330d ff., Cephalus frames well the mortal worries of an ordinary man. Nearing the end of his life, he wonders whether the poets’ stories about punishment in the Underworld are actually true: But you know, Socrates, that when someone thinks his end is near, he becomes frightened and concerned about things he didn’t fear before. It’s then that the stories [μῦθοι, d7] we’re told about Hades, about how people who’ve been unjust here must pay

43 the penalty there – stories he used to make fun of – twist his soul this way and that for fear they’re true [ἀληθεῖς, e2].30 It is from Cephalus’ worry and uncertainty, in fact, that the entire discussion about justice in the Republic arises. Cephalus goes on to explain that one’s mortal worries are few if he has been just. His conception of justice, however, is lifted directly from the poets, specifically Pindar. His son Polemarchus sums up the poetic definition as follows: “it is just to give to each what is owed to him” (τὸ τὰ ὀφειλόμενα ἑκάστῳ ἀποδιδόναι δίκαιόν ἐστι, Rep. 1.331e3-4). And so Socrates, throughout the rest of the Republic, will concentrate his energies on correcting the “false” understanding of justice as propagated by the poets. A great deal of his case, however, must depend on asserting his version of “religious truth.” If the gods are not good, if a reputation for justice is all that matters in life and in the afterlife, what sort of rational basis can there be to pursue justice itself? And so, like the poets, Plato will resort to lies to add authority to the “religious truth” he espouses. Unlike the poets, however, he carefully differentiates unacceptable and acceptable lies and indeed freely admits that he himself is lying. Furthermore, unlike the poets, Socrates tells his lies with the aim that they be “useful” (χρήσιμος) rather than merely or primarily entertaining. A full discussion of Plato’s division and understanding of lies will appear below. It suffices to say now, however, that lies for Plato are not merely a way to show off his creativity or virtuosity, as they are for the poets.31 Instead, he, largely through Socrates, uses lies to support a beneficial worldview and argue in favor of the

30

All translations of Plato’s Dialogues are based on Cooper (1997). I do not rule out the argument here, however, that Plato in creating his various muthoi does not mean to compete with the poets at their own lying, i.e. fiction-producing game. The adverb “merely” I use above is crucial to understand this point. Plato produces his fictions as I will argue in the final chapter of this thesis as a means to replace and/or revise poetic lies. 31

44 philosophic way of life, which encourages the Good, the Just – the realities, the Forms, the actual, the Truth. Perhaps the most famous reference to the ambiguity of truth and falsehood in poetry is in Hesiod Theogony 26-29, a likely echo of Odyssey 19.203.32 As Elizabeth Belfiore argues, Plato likely has Hesiod’s words in mind – I would add Homer’s as well – when he discusses the utility of lies when they are likened to the truth.33 Through an explication below of Plato’s allusion to both Homer and Hesiod, I will clarify and build upon my discussion above on truth and falsehood in archaic poetry and Platonic philosophy.

Allusion 1: Plato Rep. 2.382d1-3 : Homer Od. 19.203; Hesiod Theogony 26-28 Interpretive Context Context in Plato Most of Plato’s citations of Homer are fairly easy to identify. They are either direct quotations or paraphrases of the poet’s own words (sometimes with Homer himself mentioned), or else they are allusions to well-known stories from the epics. Plato’s allusion to Homer and Hesiod at Rep. 2.382d1-3, however, is quite different. Instead of alluding to a specific passage of poetry, Plato

32

Arrighetti (1998) makes the strongest, most convincing claim that Th. 26-8 is an allusion to Od. 19.203. Walsh (1984) also sees Th. 26-8 as an allusion to Homer. 33 Belfiore (1985, 47) claims to be the first scholar to have commented on the specific “verbal echo(s)” between Hesiod Th. 26-28 and Rep. 2.382d1-3, though she admits that Jowett & Campbell (1894, 3:96) and Schuhl (1947, 102 n. 3) had previously discussed the connection between Th. 26-8 and Plato’s description of muthoi. She fails to mention Stroh (1976), Pucci (1977), Walsh (1984, 22–36), and Ferrari (1988) has commented on the uncanny resemblance between the two passages.

45 alludes to a well-known paradox treated in both Homer (and perhaps more famously) in Hesiod about the way that a skillful writer can make that which is actually false seem to be like the truth. Unlike other allusions to Homer in Plato, this allusion is comprehensive in the sense that it concerns Plato’s judgment on both the nature of poetry and also its value in general as an educational tool. It is not possible to prove, of course, that Plato had either Homer Od. 19.203 or Hesiod Th. 26-8,34 or in fact both passages, in mind at Rep. 2.382d1-3:

[Socrates to Adeimantus:] “Because we don’t know the truth [τἀληθὲς, d1] about those ancient events involving the gods, by likening falsehood [τὸ ψεῦδος, d2] to the truth [τῷ ἀληθεῖ, d2] as much as possible, we make it useful [χρήσιμον, d3].” It is extremely likely, however, as I shall demonstrate. What is clear is that all of these passages – those of Homer, Hesiod, and Plato – are concerned with the exact same thing: to understand how truth and falsehood operate in story-telling. If for no other reason, then, there is benefit in discussing these passages together. I will confine my comments below to elucidating how Plato interprets Homer and Hesiod’s ideas on “lies like the truth,” rather than how modern scholars interpret these authors’

34

Belfiore (1985, 47) argues that at Rep. 2.382d1-3 Plato alludes to Hesiod Th. 26-8 in order to criticize Hesiod’s claim that poets speak “lies like the truth” (ψεύδεα ... ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα, Th. 27), concluding rather that poets speaking “lies unlike the truth.” For a careful survey and analysis of scholars’ interpretations of the meaning of Hesiod’s line, especially his use of the word ψεύδεα, see Belfiore (1985, 48 ff.). As I read this and other citations of the poets in Plato, Plato “analyzes” the words of the poets as if he were engaging in dialogue with the poets themselves. He takes their words as statements of their beliefs and questions the basis of these beliefs in the same way that Socrates would test the beliefs of his other interlocutors in the dialogues. The problem, or really the advantage that Plato has in all of this, is that the author is not there to defend himself; Plato, then, has complete control over the “dialogue,” by exploiting the inherent weakness of the written word (cf. Phdr. 275d4-e5 and the 7th Letter 342a-345c).

46 words. For one, modern interpretations, if for no other reason than the extreme ambiguity, even paradoxical meaning of Hesiod’s phrase in particular,35 are riddled with inconsistencies and inadequacies.36 Plato’s interpretation is perhaps no better; it certainly is not terribly “fair” to the poets. But no matter: my purpose is not to resolve the difficulties of modern interpretations, or provide a “correct” interpretation of Homer and Hesiod’s lines, or even critique Plato. My goal is to attempt to understand as much as is possible Homer (and in this instance Hesiod as well) through the eyes of Plato. Plato’s allusion to Homer and Hesiod comes at Rep. 2.382d1-3. Up to this point in Rep. 2.376-382, Socrates has been excluding various poetic muthoi from his educational program for the guardians of his ideal republic. At Rep. 2.382e4, in the midst of a broader argument that Socrates is formulating to demonstrate that the gods have no reason to lie,37 he makes a careful distinction between what he calls “true lies” (τὸ γε ὡς ἀληθῶς ψεῦδος, Rep. 2.382a4)38 that all humans and gods hate and “lies in words” (τὸ ἐν τοῖς λόγοις ψεῦδος, Rep. 2.382c6). A “true

35

See Pratt (1993, 103–13) and Stoddard (2004, 86–8) for more on riddles in Hesiod and other archaic poets. 36 That is not to say that many commentators do not offer plausible or useful interpretations of this enigmatic passage. For the most recent treatment of Th. 26-8, including bibliography, see Heiden (2007), who argues, based on his interpretation of the meaning of ὁμοῖος, the Muses in Theogony 27 mean to say lies “equivalent” to truth, rather than “like” the truth.. For earlier, more comprehensive bibliography see Stroh (1976) and Neitzel (1980). The ancients were likewise interested in this paradox. Callimachus, for example, shows his familiarity with it in his Hymn to Zeus, though he means to show how the sophistication of his audience makes the claim to objective reality in poetry untenable. 37 By the end of the argument Socrates has “proven” that in contrast to man, there is never an instance in which falsehood is useful to a god: he fears no enemies; he would not be friends with anyone mad or ignorant; and he has perfect knowledge of ancient things. And so here Socrates at Rep. 2.382a develops his second “pattern” (τύπον, a2) for composing stories about the gods: “they are not sorcerers who change themselves, nor do they mislead us by falsehoods in words or deeds.” 38 Plato clearly plays here with the ambiguity of the range of meaning of both ἀλήθεια and ψεῦδος in Greek; here he uses ὡς ἀληθῶς ψεῦδος in the sense of “a genuine falsehood.”

47 lie,” he explains at Rep. 2.282b, is “to be false [ψεύδεσθαί, b2] to one’s soul about the things that are [τὰ ὄντα, b2], to be ignorant [ἀμαθῆ, b3] and to have and hold falsehood [τὸ ψεῦδος, b3] there.” A “lie in words,” is quite different:39 it is an “imitation” (μίμημά, Rep. 2.382b9) of a “true lie” (τὸ γε ὡς ἀληθῶς ψεῦδος, Rep. 2.382a4). The person who tells a “lie in words” does not believe the lie he tells; that is, he is not mistaken in respect to what he does and does not know. Socrates continues by discussing those situations in which “lies in words” are “useful” (χρήσιμον) and not deserving of hatred.40 He outlines at Rep. 2.382c-d three reasons to tell a lie in words:41 (1) against enemies; (2) to help friends as a “medicine” (φάρμακον, c10),42 if they are attempting to do “something bad” (κακόν τι, c9) out of madness or ignorance; or (3) in the case of muthoi: “[a lie in words] is also useful [χρήσιμον, d3] in the case of those stories we tell because we don’t know the truth [τἀληθὲς, d1] about ancient events involving the gods,” that is to say, things beyond the realm of human knowledge.43 Socrates does not elaborate on (1) at all, a thoroughly conventional Greek attitude toward lying. He does discuss, however, (2) and (3) indepth. It is important to note that (2) and (3) contrast considerably in terms of the knowledge assumed of the liar. (2) “Medicinal” lies involve a speaker who has both good intentions and

39

Pratt (1993, 148) reads Plato’s acknowledgement that there can be truths in falsehoods as an explicit recognition of the possibility of didactic fiction. 40 For a detailed discussion of the ethics of lying in the Republic see Reeve ([1988] 2006, 20813) and Gill (1993, 45-55). Within the Republic itself see 2.377a5-6 and especially the section on the “noble lie” at 3.414b-415d. On the ethics of lying in archaic poetry see Page (1991) and Pratt (1993, 56-63). 41 For a similar passage in Xenophon, see Memorabilia 4.2.15-7. 42 For a ψεῦδος as a φάρμακον see Rep. 3.389b4. For φάρμακον as a medicine of truth, see Rep. 10.595b6-7. 43 Such Socratic muthoi as those on the nature of the afterlife in the Phaedo or the Republic’s Myth of Er would be termed “lies in words” in the sense of (3) above; on this point, see Gill (1979) and also Pratt (1993, 148).

48 superior knowledge, whereas (3) muthoi involve a speaker who has good intentions but who is just as ignorant as his audience in regard to the truth. In a seemingly innocuous line of argument, then, Socrates has not only implied that the poets do not have any knowledge of the ancient or divine things that they tell their muthoi about, but he also asserts immediately afterward that they lack a similarity to the divine: “there is nothing of the false poet (ποιητὴς ... ψευδὴς, Rep. 2.382d9) in a god.” He has even denied them a skill in their craft, as the “lies” (ψεύδεα) they tell, while they pose as “lies in words” are, in fact, “true lies.” They are the kind of lies that harm friends rather than help them. The problem for Plato with the muthoi of poets like Homer and Hesiod is not that they “lie” or write fiction in the first place; clearly Plato has no problem with fiction per se, not in the least since he himself is a writer of fictional dialogues. The problem, as we shall see below in my full interpretation of the allusion, is that poets do not “lie well.”

Context in Hesiod The Theogony opens as the Muses address the poet, who is tending his flock beneath Mount Helicon:44 Shepherds of the wilderness, wretched things of shame, mere bellies, we know how to speak many false things [ψεύδεα, 27] as though they were true [ἐτύμοισιν];45 but we know, when we will, to utter true things [ἀληθέα, 28].

44

Hesiod Th. 26-8. This and all English translations of Hesiod’s Theogony are based on the edition of Evelyn-White (1914). 45 Heiden (2007, esp. 153, 155 ff.) works to correct what he views as a series of mistranslations and misinterpretations of Th. 26-8 by arguing that ὁμοῖος does not mean as others have taken it as“resembling” but rather “sharing a quality.” He argues that Th. 26 ought to be translated as “lies equivalent to the truth.” He somewhat overstates his case in his etymological interpretation of ὁμοῖος, namely its relation to ὁμός, to arrive at such a translation, but he does prove

49

Thereafter in lines 30-34 the Muses confer on the poet a staff of laurel and a “divine” [θέσπιν, 32] voice so that he might sing “of the race of the blessed gods that are eternal, but ever to sing of themselves [i.e. the Muses] both first and last.” Henceforth, the speaker specifies what information he wants from the Muses and in what order he would like them to present it, namely “of things that are and that shall be and that were aforetime” (τά τ᾽ ἐόντα τά τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα, 38). Thereafter the speaker begins with the birth of the Muses themselves (cf. Th. 53 ff.). While the interpretation of Th. 26-28 has attracted a great deal of scholarly attention,46 our purpose here is to discuss how one of the earliest known interpreters of these lines, Plato, read them.

Context in Homer Homer’s description of Odysseus’ “lies like the truth” occurs after Odysseus has returned to his own halls on Ithaca, disguised as a beggar. When his own wife, Penelope, inquires into his background, Odysseus “of many wiles” (πολύμητις, Od. 19.164) replies with an elaborate lie “making the many falsehoods [ψεύδεα, Od. 19.203] of his tale seem like the truth [ἐτύμοισιν, Od. 19.203].” He tells Penelope that he is from Crete and that he entertained Odysseus there twenty years ago. Despite Penelope’s tears, Odysseus-beggar himself keeps his eyes “fixed between his lids as though they were horn or iron, and with guile (δόλῳ, Od. 19.212) hid[es] his

convincingly that ὁμοῖος in archaic literature always is used to discuss things that have some specific quality in common, rather than just a mere resemblance. 46 See Volk & Katz (2000, 122) on what they claim is the communis opinio on this passage: “the Muses distinguish between two kinds of poetry, one consisting of lies similar to true things (27), the other characterized by the truth (28). The second kind is preferable to the first (truth is superior to lies), and Hesiod implies that what the Muses give to him is the poetry of truth.”

50 tears” (Od. 19.211-212). Penelope still wants to test if Odysseus-beggar “truly” (ἐτεὸν, Od. 19.216) did entertain her husband, so she asks him to supply details about his clothes and companions, all of which Odysseus-beggar is easily able to describe, including the very cloak and brooch which she herself gave Odysseus before he departed. When Penelope recognizes the “sure tokens that Odysseus [has] told her,” (Od. 19.250) she begins weeping again. Odysseusbeggar replies: “Yet cease from your weeping, and hearken to my words; for I will tell you with sure truth [νημερτέως, Od. 19.269] and will hide nothing [οὐδ᾽ ἐπικεύσω, Od. 19.269], how but lately I heard of the return of Odysseus.” Odysseus, of course, does anything but tell the whole truth here. He offers Penelope an oddly eclectic mixture of truth and lies. While he tells Penelope, with no small measure of irony, that Odysseus is “near at hand” [ἀγχοῦ, Od. 19.271] and still alive, he mixes in some blatant lies as well, saying that he is among the Thesprotians, begging, having come from Thrinacia. While Odysseus-beggar supplies many seemingly convincing details about his wanderings, in the end Penelope doubts that Odysseus will ever return. The dramatic irony of the scene is perhaps one of the finest in world literature. No less than Aristotle, in fact, in the Poetics at 1460a singles out this passage as a preeminent example of excellence in terms of poetic ψεύδεα: “Above all, Homer has taught the others the proper way of telling lies [ψεύδεα].”47 The gratuitous nature of Odysseus’ lie is matched only by the pleasure the audience would have experienced at witnessing the masterful story-teller Odysseus at work. In the end, “divine” (δῖος) Odysseus, as Hesiod’s Muses will do, is able to make his lies appear

47

This English translation is from the edition of Fyfe (1932).

51 like the truth,48 by having privilege to information seemingly beyond mere mortals (e.g. the appearance of his cloak and brooch). Like Hesiod’s Muses, Odysseus is also able to play with the ignorance of his audience – in this case Penelope who does not recognize him – and so abuse, in a sense, his poetic authority by telling a “lie in words” at the expense of a friend. His recognition finally occurs in the next scene when Odysseus literally and figuratively “uncovers” himself, as he undresses for a bath before his old nursemaid, Eurycleia.

Editorial Note As I will do throughout this study I have put the words that Plato quotes from Homer in boldface and in brackets to differentiate it from the rest of the text. In the section below where I comment on Textual Differences, I have underlined the words in the respective selections where the texts disagree. Here I have also included all published, textual variants in an apparatus criticus beneath both of the Greek passages. I will discuss all variants that warrant consideration, including those that, as the case may be, happen to bear witness to a tradition that may not be in support of my reading of the material. The relative merit of the manuscripts will also be considered in my final analysis of textual variants, as well as dialectical influences – Atticisms in particular – and the effect of “the oral tradition.” Original Context Plato Rep. 2.382c3-d9 Τὸ μὲν δὴ τῷ ὄντι ψεῦδος οὐ μόνον ὑπὸ θεῶν ἀλλὰ καὶ 48

Plato’s dialogic form is naturally nothing more that a lie in words. While the characters are real, the conversations are not. They imitate what would have been said according to the characters of the men involved. Unlike the poets, however, Plato imitates a noble character, Socrates, and he tells his lies in words for a noble purpose: to defend the philosophic way of life which, for him, is supremely beneficial for the individual and society as a whole.

52 ὑπ’ ἀνθρώπων μισεῖται. Δοκεῖ μοι. Τί δὲ δὴ τὸ ἐν τοῖς λόγοις [ψεῦδος]; πότε καὶ τῷ χρήσιμον, ὥστε μὴ ἄξιον εἶναι μίσους; ἆρ’ οὐ πρός τε τοὺς πολεμίους καὶ τῶν καλουμένων φίλων, ὅταν διὰ μανίαν ἤ τινα ἄνοιαν κακόν τι ἐπιχειρῶσιν πράττειν, τότε ἀποτροπῆς ἕνεκα ὡς φάρμακον χρήσιμον γίγνεται; καὶ ἐν αἷς νυνδὴ ἐλέγομεν ταῖς μυθολογίαις, διὰ τὸ μὴ εἰδέναι ὅπῃ τἀληθὲς ἔχει περὶ τῶν παλαιῶν, [ἀφομοιοῦντες τῷ ἀληθεῖ τὸ ψεῦδος] ὅτι μάλιστα, οὕτω χρήσιμον ποιοῦμεν; Καὶ μάλα, ἦ δ’ ὅς, οὕτως ἔχει. Κατὰ τί δὴ οὖν τούτων τῷ θεῷ τὸ ψεῦδος χρήσιμον; πότερον διὰ τὸ μὴ εἰδέναι τὰ παλαιὰ ἀφομοιῶν ἂν ψεύδοιτο; Γελοῖον μεντἂν εἴη, ἔφη. Ποιητὴς μὲν ἄρα ψευδὴς ἐν θεῷ οὐκ ἔνι.

5

10 d

5

[Socrates:] “And the thing that is really a falsehood [ψεῦδος, c3] is hated not only by gods but by men.” [Adeimantus:] “It seems so to me.” “What about falsehood in words [ἐν τοῖς λόγοις ψεῦδος, c6]? When and to whom is it useful [χρήσιμον, c6] and so not deserving of hatred? Isn’t it useful against one’s enemies? And when any of those whom we call friends are attempting, through madness or ignorance, to do something bad, isn’t it a useful drug [φάρμακον χρήσιμον, c10] for preventing them? It is also useful in the case of those stories [μυθολογίαις, d1] we were just now talking about, the ones we tell because we don’t know the truth [τἀληθὲς] about those ancient events involving the gods, [by likening falsehood [τὸ ψεῦδος] to the truth [τῷ ἀληθεῖ]] as much as possible, don’t we also make it useful [χρήσιμον, d3]? “We most certainly do.” “Tell me, then, in which of these ways could a falsehood be useful [χρήσιμον, d5] to a god? Would he make false likenesses [ἀφομοιῶν ἂν ψεύδοιτο, d6-7] of ancient events because of his ignorance of them?” “It would be ridiculous to think that.” “Then there is nothing of the false poet [Ποιητὴς μὲν ἄρα ψευδὴς, d9] in a god.” Hesiod Th. 22-34 αἵ νύ ποθ᾽ Ἡσίοδον καλὴν ἐδίδαξαν ἀοιδήν, ἄρνας ποιμαίνονθ᾽ Ἑλικῶνος ὕπο ζαθέοιο. τόνδε δέ με πρώτιστα θεαὶ πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπον, Μοῦσαι Ὀλυμπιάδες, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο·

25

53 ποιμένες ἄγραυλοι,49 κάκ᾽ ἐλέγχεα,50 γαστέρες οἶον, [ἴδμεν ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγειν ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα,] ἴδμεν δ᾽, εὖτ᾽ ἐθέλωμεν, ἀληθέα γηρύσασθαι. ὣς ἔφασαν κοῦραι μεγάλου Διὸς ἀρτιέπειαι· καί μοι σκῆπτρον ἔδον δάφνης ἐριθηλέος ὄζον δρέψασαι, θηητόν· ἐνέπνευσαν δέ μοι αὐδὴν θέσπιν, ἵνα κλείοιμι τά τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα. καί μ᾽ ἐκέλονθ᾽ ὑμνεῖν μακάρων γένος αἰὲν ἐόντων, σφᾶς δ᾽ αὐτὰς πρῶτόν τε καὶ ὕστατον αἰὲν ἀείδειν.

30

And one day they taught Hesiod glorious song while he was shepherding his lambs under holy Helicon, and this word first the goddesses said to me— the Muses of Olympus, daughters of Zeus who holds the aegis: “Shepherds of the wilderness, wretched things of shame, mere bellies, [we know how to speak many false things [ψεύδεα] as though they were true [ἐτύμοισιν]; but we know, when we will, to utter true things [ἀληθέα]. So said the ready-voiced daughters of great Zeus, and they plucked and gave me a rod, a shoot of sturdy laurel, a marvelous thing, and breathed into me a divine voice to celebrate things that shall be and things that were aforetime; and they bade me sing of the race of the blessed gods that are eternally, but ever to sing of themselves both first and last. Homer Od. 19.203-219 [ἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα·] τῆς δ’ ἄρ’ ἀκουούσης ῥέε δάκρυα, τήκετο δὲ χρώς· ὡς δὲ χιὼν κατατήκετ’ ἐν ἀκροπόλοισιν ὄρεσσιν, ἥν τ’ Εὖρος κατέτηξεν, ἐπὴν Ζέφυρος καταχεύῃ· τηκομένης δ’ ἄρα τῆς ποταμοὶ πλήθουσι ῥέοντες· ὣς τῆς τήκετο καλὰ παρήϊα δάκρυ χεούσης, κλαιούσης ἑὸν ἄνδρα παρήμενον. αὐτὰρ Ὀδυσσεὺς θυμῷ μὲν γοόωσαν ἑὴν ἐλέαιρε γυναῖκα, ὀφθαλμοὶ δ’ ὡς εἰ κέρα ἕστασαν ἠὲ σίδηρος ἀτρέμας ἐν βλεφάροισι· δόλῳ δ’ ὅ γε δάκρυα κεῦθεν. ἡ δ’ ἐπεὶ οὖν τάρφθη πολυδακρύτοιο γόοιο, ἐξαῦτίς μιν ἔπεσσιν ἀμειβομένη προσέειπε· “νῦν μὲν δή σευ, ξεῖνέ γ’, ὀί̈ω πειρήσεσθαι, εἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ κεῖθι σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι ξείνισας ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἀγορεύεις. εἰπέ μοι ὁπποῖ’ ἄσσα περὶ χροὶ̈ εἵματα ἕστο, αὐτός θ’ οἷος ἔην, καὶ ἑταίρους, οἵ οἱ ἕποντο.” 49

205

210

215

This phrase also occurs at II. 18.162. “Intertextuality” between Homer and Hesiod is quite common. On this issue in general, see Powell (1997, 464 n. 5; cf. Pucci 1987, 242; Kennedy [1989] 1993, 34). 50 Cf. II. 2.235; 5.787; 8.228.

54 [Odysseus] spoke, and made the many falsehoods [ψεύδεα, 203] of his tale seem like the truth [ἐτύμοισιν, 203], and as she listened her tears flowed and her face melted as the snow melts on the lofty mountains, the snow which the East Wind thaws when the West Wind has strewn it, and as it melts the streams of the rivers flow full: so her fair cheeks melted as she wept and mourned for her husband, who even then was sitting by her side. And Odysseus in his heart had pity for his weeping wife, but his eyes stood fixed between his lids as though they were horn or iron, and with guile he hid his tears. But she, when she had had her fill of tearful wailing, again answered him and spoke, saying: “Now verily, stranger, am I minded to put you to the test, whether or not you did in very truth as you say entertain my husband with his godlike comrades in your halls. Tell me what manner of raiment he wore about his body, and what manner of man he was himself; and tell me of the comrades who followed him.” Texts Homer and Hesiod That Hesiod at Th. 26-8 had Homer Od. 19.203 in mind is well-established in scholarship; it is only the meaning of Hesiod’s allusion that is debated.51 Indeed, looking at the lines side-by-side, it is nearly intellectually irresponsible to argue that Hesiod was not alluding to Homer, differing as their respective lines do in only two respects. These differences are natural, moreover, given the context of the respective passages and the fact that Hesiod was not quoting Homer directly but merely alluding to him.

51

I happen to sympathize with those scholars who think Hesiod takes a polemical or competitive stance towards Homer through the use of this allusion. Perhaps the first modern statement of this thesis occurs in Nietzsche (1995, 54), from a lecture given in 1874/5 on the history of Greek literature: “Lügensang ist homerisch, Wahrsang hesiodeisch.” See also Luther (1935, 125), Sinclair (1932, 267), Latte (1946, 159-63), Verdenius (1972, 234-5), Lesky ([1976] 1996, 92), P. Murray (1981, 91), Belfiore (1985, 52), Puelma (1989, 75), Arrighetti (1992), Finkelberg (1998, 157-60), and Pöhlmann (1998, 247-51). Somewhat differently, see Kambylis (1965, 62-3) and Kannicht (1980, 15-21), who contend that Th. 27 is not a polemic against Homeric epic, but simply a fair description of the genre; compare also Davison (1955, 125-40) and Lanata (1963, 24-5). Others think that Hesiod only wanted to stress the truth inherent in his own work. On this view, see Rösler (1980, 296-7 n. 34), Stein (1990, 11), and Rudhart (1996, 30). Still others have suggested that the criticism is aimed at local genealogies or theogonies. On local genealogies see Svenbro (1976, 65-7); on local theogonies see Nagy (1990, 45-7). On the so-called “monist” position, see esp. Stroh (1976).

55 Hesiod Th. 27 [ἴδμεν ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγειν ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα,] Homer Od. 19.203 [ἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα] Textual Differences Homer and Hesiod 1) ἴδμεν (27) : ἴσκε (203) Homer’s and Hesiod’s texts have different main, introductory verbs: ἴσκε52 for Homer, a third person singular form to describe what Odysseus “says,” and ἴδμεν for Hesiod, a first person plural form to describe what the Muses “know.” It is perhaps interesting to note that superficially the verbs look similar. In Homer, the narrator is commenting on Odysseus’ skill as a maker of fictions, whereas in Hesiod, the Muses themselves are commenting on their own ability as makers of fictions. 2) λέγειν (27) : λέγων (203) The basic construction of Homer and Hesiod’s line differs, hence Homer’s use of the participle form of λέγω (λέγων) and Hesiod’s infinitive (λέγειν). Texts Plato and the Poets

52

According to LSJ, ἴσκε is an epic form of ἔνισπεν. There is some dispute, however, over the meaning and origin of the word. For a detailed discussion on ἴσκε see Merry (1886, ad loc.) and Russo (1993, ad loc.).

56 It is impossible to prove, of course, that Plato had Homer, Hesiod, or both poets in mind when he used the phrase “likening falsehood [τὸ ψεῦδος] to the truth [τῷ ἀληθεῖ]” (Rep. 2.382d2) Yet, the thought expressed in the passages has such an uncanny similarity, such a seemingly identical interest in the paradoxical relationship between truth and falsehood in story-telling, that even if Plato did not have Homer or Hesiod specifically in mind, he certainly meant to comment on their craft. Plato Rep. 2.382d2 [ἀφομοιοῦντες τῷ ἀληθεῖ τὸ ψεῦδος] Hesiod Th. 27 [ἴδμεν ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγειν ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα,] Homer Od. 19.203 [ἴσκε ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγων ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα] Textual Differences Plato and the Poets 1) ἀφομοιοῦντες (d2) : ὁμοῖα (27, 203) Here Plato uses what is essentially a verbal cognate, ἀφομοιοῦντες, “to make like,” of the adjective ὁμοῖα, “like, resembling,” which Homer and Hesiod use. As Plato’s purpose is to allude to the poets rather than to quote them directly, such a superficial difference is not terribly meaningful.

2) τῷ ἀληθεῖ (d2) : ἐτύμοισιν (27, 203)

57 The fact that Homer and Hesiod use ἐτύμοισιν and Plato τῷ ἀληθεῖ appears at first glance to be problematic. According to the TLG, however, ἔτυμος does not appear in Attic prose. The only time ἔτυμος does appear in Plato’s corpus is in the context of direct quotations of poetry.53 Surely, if Plato meant to quote Homer and Hesiod directly, he would have had no reservations using ἔτυμος; but in the context of an allusion, in the midst of prose, such a use would have been unprecedented. What is unprecedented for Hesiod, however, is his use of ἔτυμος at Th. 27; although this fact has not been noted by previous scholars, Th. 27 contains the only occurrence of ἔτυμος in Hesiod’s corpus.54 Now while Hesiod could have been exploiting a difference in the meaning of ἔτυμος and ἀλήθεια here – a hypothesis I explore in detail in the following paragraph – I think such a reading is quite unlikely, despite some advantages in terms of clarity. Tilman Krischer distinguishes the meaning of ἔτυμος and ἀλήθεια as follows: ἀληθής is used only to characterize the reliable account of something that has been perceived, whereas ἔτυμος denotes the truth of something in an absolute sense, the reality of which cannot be doubted. To take Krischer’s observations into account,55 Hesiod’s Muses tell “lies” (ψεύδεα) – the content of Hesiod’s poetic fictions – the reality of which, being of divine origin, cannot be doubted by his audience. From the listeners’ point of view, then, Hesiod’s poetry has an automatic authority. From the point of view of the Muses themselves, however, they provide 53

Cf. Phdr. 243a, 244a, and 260e. For more on the significance of ἔτυμος used here, see Rowe (1986, 196) and Nehamas (1995, 55). 54 ἀλήθεια is not common in Hesiod either, appearing in only three other instances: Th. 230, and Works 768 and 815. 55 Krischer 1965, 161-74. See also Clay (2003, 60-2 n. 50) for additional bibliography on the semantic range of ἔτυμος and ἀληθής. See also Pratt (1993, 147): “The distinction Gill draws between factual truth and representative truth is precisely the one I have argued is relevant to understanding archaic standards that govern poetic invention. Plato does not, however, distinguish the two in his vocabulary. He uses the adjective alēthēs to describe both kinds of true. Thus, the distinction between etumon (valid) and alēthēs (nonfictional) that I have suggested may operate in archaic vocabulary is not operative in Plato.”

58 “truths” (ἀληθέα) in that they are describing events to which they were “eyewitnesses.”56 To take this difference of meaning into consideration, then, we may translate the Muses as saying: “we know how to speak many false/fictional/deceitful things [ψεύδεα] as though they were true/actual/real/unquestioned reality [ἐτύμοισιν]; but we know, when we will, to utter true things [ἀληθέα] about things to which we as divine beings are alone privy.”57 While this reading gives us a more precise reading, it is hard to accept it without reservation in the case of Hesiod, as the line contains the only occurrence of ἔτυμος in his entire corpus.58 I am sympathetic here rather to Bruce Heiden’s reading:59 While I acknowledge that discussions ... which identify differences of semantic range between etumos and alēthēs are useful and potentially important to an understanding of Theog. 27–28 within the Theogony as a whole, I would not look to lexical studies to make the Muses’ meaning crystal clear. In addressing three abrupt and challenging verses to an audience of less-than-optimally astute shepherds, the Muses were not trying to offer as much clarity as scholars might wish for in the lines.

56

Yet Belfiore (1985, 55-6) makes the point that Hesiod – as opposed to Homer – plays with the idea that the Muses recount events to which they were not eyewitnesses, e.g., their own births. In these instances Zeus becomes the basis for truth in the world. On this point, see also Gutzwiller (1991, 31), who reads ψεύδεα as “imaginary conjectures about events for which Muses do not have eyewitness knowledge.” But again, there is nearly an innumerable amount of opinions on this one line. Stoddard (2004, 75-6), for example, takes the Muses’ address to the shepherds quite simply as a way for them to underline the difference between mortals and gods. The communis opinio, however, is to take the Muses’ words as a warning or threat (cf., e.g., Heiden 2008, 171). Ultimately what matters here is how Plato took these lines, how Plato understood the relationship between truth (ἀλήθεια) and falsehood (ψεῦδος), a topic which we shall explore fully below. 57 Belfiore (1985, 55) reads this line to mean something remarkably similar to Socrates’ definition of a “lie in words”: “It is possible that Hesiod, like Plato in the Timaeus, wished to avoid claims of factual accuracy in discussing the origins of the gods. Theogony 27 might be his way of informing us that the exact truth cannot be known about such matters, but that we can know the present nature of the gods and of the cosmos.” 58 The cognates of ἔτυμος, namely ἐτεός and ἐτήτυμος, are virtually non-existent in Hesiod as well, with ἐτήτυμος appearing only at Works 10. 59 Heiden 2008, 171 n. 46.

59 Indeed, while I will not dismiss Krischer’s work out of hand – surely it is valid in the case of Homer – I think it is more accurate in the case of Hesiod to assume that the primary function of ἔτυμος is to make Hesiod’s intertext with Homer as clear as possible. Having mimicked Homer clearly enough with his use of ἔτυμος, Hesiod returns to his ordinary lexical register at Th. 28 with ἀληθέα: “we know, when we will, to utter true things [ἀληθέα].” In this way, for Hesiod at least, ἀληθέα and ἔτυμος seem to be interchangeable. Interpretation The key to understanding Plato’s allusion to Homer and Hesiod and thus the force of his criticism lies in understanding both Plato’s attitude towards fiction or poetic “lies” (ψεύδεα) in general and clarifying the sense in which Plato uses the word ἀλήθεια. In terms of lies/fiction (ψεῦδος), it is clear that for Plato ψεύδεα are not to be avoided per se. Plato’s Socrates is a great myth-maker/liar in his own right after all – as is Plato the writer, given his choice of a fictional, dialogic form.60 Indeed, as Socrates himself states at Rep.

60

Plato’s myth-making in the Republic will be treated in Chapter 4. The bibliography on Plato’s myths is fairly extensive. See especially Frutiger ([1930] 1976), Annas (1982), Gill (1993), Brisson (1998), Janka (2002) and most recently Partenie (2009). Some of Plato’s myths are simply retellings or allusions to traditional material, such as that of Gyges (Rep. 2.359d–360b), Phaethon (Tim. 22c7), or the Amazons (Laws 7.804e4). Modified, or hybrid myths (those treating traditional mythological subjects which include Platonic invention), include such myths as the Noble Lie (Rep. 3.414b–415d). Myths invented by Plato himself include the Phaedo myth (107c–115a), the cosmological myth of the Statesman (268–274e), the myth of the androgyne (Sym. 189d–193d), the myth of the winged soul (Phdr. 246a–249d), the myth of Theuth (Phdr. 274c–275e), the Gorgias myth (523a–527a), the myth of Er (Rep. 10.614a–621d), the myth of Atlantis (Tim. 21e–26e), and the Laws myth (10.903b–905b). Plato’s own attitude towards his myth is revealed in such passages as Phaedo 114d where, following a myth on the immortality of the soul, Socrates states that no sensible person would maintain that things are exactly as recounted in the preceding eschatological story, but that, if the soul is immortal, it follows that “these things or some such things are true.” See also Tim. 27d-29d on this attitude and Belfiore (1985, 53). In the Republic, myths are judged as good (i.e. useful) not if they are objectively true

60 2.882c-d, ψεύδεα can be quite “useful” (χρήσιμος).61 The problem with Homer’s and Hesiod’s telling of ψεύδεα is not that they tell lies in the first place, but that they do not “lie well”: their lies are neither “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) nor “useful” (χρήσιμος). In fact, they are harmful and dangerous. Beyond telling lies that are not “useful” (χρήσιμος), Plato also Homer’s and Hesiod’s claim that they tell “lies like the truth.” He is able to subvert this claim by exploiting the ambiguity of the term ἀλήθεια, taking it in his sense of “religious truth.” A story that is true in this sense is one that abides by the following tupoi as laid out in Republic 2: (1) muthoi must not depict gods as the cause of evil, but only good (Rep. 2.379b-c); (2) the gods must not be depicted as shape shifters, or as deceitful in any way (Rep. 2.380d ff.). Such a story would also have to abide by the “tupoi” for stories told about heroes, daemons, and Hades, as outlined at Rep. 3.386a-392a: (3) heroes and daemons must be depicted as morally righteous and thus morally superior to ordinary men rather than inferior; (4) Hades must not be disparaged, or viewed as a dreadful place.62 Plato cannot claim that the stories that Homer and Hesiod tell about the gods, heroes, and the underworld are objectively false. Indeed, as Socrates says to Adeimantus, those stories which do not conform to his tupoi above must be censored “even if they were true” (οὐδ’ ἂν εἰ ἦν ἀληθῆ, Rep. 2.378a2). When Socrates says such things as “god is good in reality [τῷ ὄντι]” (Rep. 2.379b1) and that stories about battles among the gods are “not true [οὐδὲ γὰρ but if they are consistent with the true “patterns” (τύποι, cf. e.g. Rep. 2.379a5) that have been established about the nature of the gods and heroes. 61 On “useful” (χρήσιμος) lies, see also Rep. 3.382c-d, 389b-c and 414b-c. 62 It is worth noting that Socrates expands his tupoi even to stories concerning human beings in Book 3 of the Republic. Here, however, the nature of such stories are different, as the actual truth is generally accessible about such things. At any rate, Socrates will spend much of the rest of the Republic arguing against such “false stories,” which allege that “many unjust people are happy and many just ones wretched, that injustice is profitable if it escapes detection, and that justice is another’s good but one’s own loss” (Rep. 3.392b1-4).

61 ἀληθῆ]” (Rep. 2.378c1), it is clear that he must mean “true” in the very specific sense of “religious truth.” What makes the poets’ stories “untrue” in a religious sense is that they are neither “useful” (χρήσιμος) nor “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος). As Socrates says, such stories may cause the youth “to form opinions [δόξας, b8] the opposite of those we think they should have when they grow up” (Rep. 2.377b7-9), the kind of opinions that inhibit one from attaining the qualities of a good guardian: “philosophy, spirit, speed, and strength” (φιλόσοφος δὴ καὶ θυμοειδὴς καὶ ταχὺς καὶ ἰσχυρὸς, Rep. 2.376c4). While Socrates is clear about what kind of stories must be censored – and keep in mind the irony of his censorship in that he is citing the very stories that he claims to be censoring – he does not name specific authors until pressed to do so. At first, at Rep. 2.377c5, he says vaguely, “the greater part of stories current today must be thrown out.” It is only when he is compelled by Adeimantus at Rep. 2.377d4-5 that he finally identifies his true target: “the stories in Homer and Hesiod and the poets.” He also begins at this point to make it more clear what he means by saying that these poets do not “lie well.” He uses a metaphor from painting to explain what a “bad lie” is like: “when a story gives a bad image of what the god and heroes are like, the way a painter does whose picture is not at all like the things he’s trying to paint” (Rep. 2.377e1-3). The model, or likeness, such artists fail to imitate, in Plato’s view, is their “true” form, the gods and heroes of his tupoi: pure, idealized forms that encourage those who encounter them to become “godlike” themselves. So for Plato, “lying well” means something vastly different from what it means for the poets and their audience. Homer and Hesiod “lie well” when they (and their characters/Muses) tell lies that are indistinguishable from the truth, or “lies like the truth.” The same may be said of the rhetoricians and the Sophists, who “lie well” when their arguments are convincing. To return

62 to Homer, however, at Od. 19.203, he introduces the paradox of “lies like the truth” in the context of praising Odysseus’ lie to Penelope. While such a lie is functional in the context of the plot of the Odyssey, from a philosophical perspective, we see that it, in fact, violates Socrates’ rules for “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) lies: (1) Odysseus tells his lie to a friend, not an enemy; (2) the lie is ultimately harmful to Penelope as, rather than acting as a medicine to alleviate madness, it inspires it, as Penelope sobs uncontrollably. In the judgment of Plato, Homer, in praising such a lie, has failed as a poet (or really an educator). Naturally Plato is not being a particularly sensitive literary critic here. He certainly has no concern for the dramatic value of the scene or the sheer pleasure of watching someone tell a story as well as Odysseus does. But such criticisms of Plato as a reader or literary critic are entirely beside the point. If life imitates art – a view that Plato seems strongly to endorse – the art that Homer and the poets present can only inspire an imitation of a debased form of reality and so produce a throng of disciples who imitate the warring deities of Hesiod’s Theogony and Achilles’ lack of sophrosune. The fact that poetry is entertaining, pleasurable, beautiful, enchanting even, is something Plato never denies.63 In fact, poetry’s tendency to enchant and overwhelm its audience is precisely the problem. In Plato’s view philosophy is more suited to education because it, unlike poetry, inspires rational engagement, a questioning of premises and conclusions. The audience member of a poetic performance merely listens silently, giving himself over imaginatively to whatever the skilled, lying, “divine” bard may present to him. This suppression of reason can be beneficial if the stories are formed with philosophical 63

Cf. Rep. 3.387b2-3, 3.397d6, 10.601b1-4, 10.605d3-5, 10.606b4, 10.607a5-8. Several of these references focus on the danger of the pleasure of poetry or also contain ironic praise of the pleasure of listening to poetry. For references to poetic pleasure elsewhere in Plato’s corpus, see Phil. 48a5-6, Gorgias 501d1-502d8 (with Dodds [1959] 1990, ad loc.), Ion 535e2-3, and Laws 7.800d.

63 considerations in mind, but inevitably the content of the traditional stories consists of things that cause its audience “to form opinions the opposite of those we think they should have” ((Rep. 2.377b7-9). Plato likewise interprets Hesiod’s “true lies” in negative fashion. And it is clear that at Rep. 2.382d2 Hesiod is Plato’s main quarry.64 Again, he does not criticize Hesiod because he lies in the first place. He is telling stories after all about things that cannot be known for certain. Where Hesiod errs, according to the argument of the Republc, is both in passing his lies off as if they were “the truth” and having no interest in the moral effect of his lies, their social utility. In the end, Plato takes a famous, poetic paradox – the telling of “lies like the truth” – and reinterprets it, perhaps one could say misinterprets it. Plato considers that a lie is told well, that a lie is told “like the truth,” only when it is in accord with the tupoi that he outlines above, the basis of “the truth” in his eyes, that is to say, “religious truth.” In the end, the “true lies” of Homer and Hesiod must be censored as they fail in every respect as “useful” (χρήσιμος) or “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) lies: (1) rather than harming enemies, they harm friends; (2) they add to the madness (by arousing excessive emotion) and ignorance of friends (their listeners) rather than alleviating these states of mind; and (3) they are told in the form of muthoi regarding “ancient things about which we cannot know the truth” (Rep. 382c10-d1), yet they masquerade as the truth and thus in the process obscure the path to finding it. In the case of Plato’s own writing, the lies, and particularly the muthoi that Socrates tells, claim only to espouse “religious truth.” In other words, the lies Socrates tells in the Republic are

64

See esp. Belfiore (1985, 51-2) on the many echoes of Theogony in Republic Book 2: “Plato reminds us of Hesiod when he distinguishes between true and false speech (2.376E11). He twice mentions Hesiod by name (2.377d4 and e8); he condemns the Theogony succession story ... and he alludes to Theogony 27 when he denies that gods are lying poets.”

64 directed to social utility. Socrates tells his lies nobly, as it were, because they perform a “useful” (χρήσιμος) function. By asserting something that is as likely to be true – that god is only the cause of good – as that which the poets tell us – that god is the cause of all things, good or evil – Socrates gives his readers a worthy model to imitate; he also gives them not only a positive view of the afterlife, but also a rational basis for justice: if the gods are not responsible for evil, mankind is. Those who are unjust, then, can be punished and deserve that punishment on earth; if their evil deeds escape notice on earth they will still be punished by a just deity in the afterlife. It is not that fate and evil are doled out willy-nilly as Homer tells us,65 but that man, a rational agent, is responsible himself for the evil he causes. As it turns out, Socrates’ idea of “religious truth” is precisely contrary to the etymological roots of ἀλήθεια in the verb λανθάνω. “Religious truth” is not a matter of “openness” and “sincerity”; instead of revealing all possibilities about the make up of the cosmos and divinity, Socrates wants to conceal that which, unproven anyway (i.e. god is evil), is dangerous (or as Adeimantus puts it at Rep. 378a7 “difficult [χαλεποί]”) and not “useful” (χρήσιμος) or “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος). Socrates’ lies are noble; he lies well. He gives people, particularly the youth, a model of the world that is worthy of imitation, that encourages the just life. Plato, then, unable to engage the poets in actual dialogue or to provide a rational argument against their worldview, instead criticizes them, parodies their efforts; he (philosophically) revises them where possible, and censors them elsewhere, in the process incorporating poetry into to his own philosophic, dialectical form.

65

See Il. 24.527-32 on how Zeus distributes good and bad to men from urns on his doorstep, a passage quoted at Rep. 2.379d3-8 (Quotation 9 & Paraphrase 3).

65

Quotation 1: Plato Rep. 4.424b8-10 : Homer Od. 1.351-352 (Cf. Pindar Olympian 9.48)66 Interpretive Context At Republic 2.376c-e Socrates first raises the question of how the guardians of his city-in-speech are to be educated. Here Socrates maintains the traditional division in Greek education of gymnastics (γυμναστική) for the body and poetry (μουσική) for the soul. His program, however, ends up being anything but traditional.67 What follows in Books 2-4 is a thorough dismantling of the “content” (λόγος) of the muthoi of Homer and the other poets which traditionally made up the educational program in Plato’s Greece. Republic 4, then, begins with a bit of a surprise. Socrates asserts in typical ironic fashion that in order to keep the character of his ideal city intact, any and all innovations in music and gymnastics must be avoided “counter to the established order” (Rep. 4.424b6).68 Socrates has hardly hesitated to delete much of Homer from the actual traditional Greek educational curriculum, but his own ideal curriculum will not be liable to the examination or innovations of another Socrates. To make clear how attractive innovation in music is to most people, Socrates (mis)quotes Telemachus’ words to his mother Penelope from Odyssey 1.351-152: “Men regard that song rather more which circulates newest among the singers.”

66

As is the case in the majority of Platonic citations, this one is variously misidentified. Benardete (1963, 176), for example, incorrectly notes that the Homeric quotation appears only in b9 of the Platonic text and Shorey ([1969] 1982, ad loc.) indicates that the citation concerns only line 351 of the Homeric text. 67 For more on the Greek educational system in Plato’s day, see Jaeger ([1943] 1986, esp. 208 ff.; cf. Beck 1964; Robb 1994; Too 2001). 68 Cf. Laws 7.799a and 8.802d-e, which likewise stress the importance of a lack of innovation in the arts.

66 These lines in Homer come in the broader context of the bard Phemius’ tales of the nostoi of the Greek heroes from Troy. Penelope, weeping, reminded of her long-absent Odysseus, asks Phemius to cease his singing. The young Telemachus, however, turned theologian (and literary critic) rebukes her. He explains that it is Zeus who is to blame for human suffering, not the poets; as he explains at Od. 1.349, a poet merely recounts events to give pleasure “in whatever way his heart is moved” (ὅππῃ οἱ νόος ὄρνυται, Od. 1.347). Further – and here is where Plato begins his quotation of the Homeric passage – “men praise that song rather more which circulates newest among the listeners” (τὴν γὰρ ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπικλείουσ’ ἄνθρωποι, ἥ τις ἀκουόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται, Od. 1.351-52). These lines do happen to fit the context of Socrates’ argument in the Republic quite well.69 But Socrates suggests an interpretation of the Homeric lines (Od. 1.351-52) that is unfaithful to the original;70 he suggests that Telemachus means a “new manner of song” rather than “new songs.” Socrates is only able to carry out this misinterpretation, however, by taking Homer’s words out of context.71 The context which Socrates avoids here – but which likely would not have been lost on a particularly “well-versed” contemporary – happens to be the “false” theology Telemachus proposes. Telemachus asserts that Zeus (not the poets) is responsible for evil in human life. Nothing could oppose Socrates’ own understanding of divinity in the Republic more completely. As Socrates argues, stories about divine evil-doing are just that: lies invented by the poets who misunderstand the “true” nature of divinity (in the “religious” sense of the term ἀλήθεια). As Socrates states,

69

At the beginning of Book 4, Socrates has just finished arguing that institutions devolve according to the quality of their educational system. 70 Benardete (1963, 176) makes much the same point about Socrates’ treatment of Homer’s original. 71 Benardete (1963, 176) puts it as follows: “[Plato] can all the more readily deform Homer here because of the previous lines he does not quote (347-3).”

67 “god can only cause good” (Rep. 2.379b1). Not only do the poets misunderstand the origin of evil according to Socrates, but they inadvertently cause it by providing the citizenry with poor examples (of warring deities and the like) on which to model their behavior. And so using the rhetorical technique that I defined in the Introduction as “implied censorship,” Plato’s Socrates pretends to censor only Telemachus’ views on the appealing nature of “new songs,” but actually carefully suppresses or censors Telemachus’ “false” theological views. Telemachus’ idea that Zeus himself causes evil simply cannot be quoted. The idea is too dangerous, too utterly corrupting. It is just too fundamentally at odds with the view of theology proposed in the Republic. In the end, Plato the author implicitly takes Penelope’s side in the “debate” between her and Telemachus. Plato mimics Penelope’s censorship of the bard,72 yet in addition also finally quiets her critic Telemachus, censoring his “false” views on divine justice. In what remains of the Homeric passage, Plato yet further alters the text in such a way that he both parodies Homer’s original and revises it so that it can fit its new philosophic context. This sort of misquotation, in fact, is the answer to the dilemma Plato’s Socrates has at Republic 10.607c, where he shows some, perhaps feigned, reluctance to exile poetry altogether from his city-in-speech; Plato’s Socrates appreciates poetry’s beauty and the pleasure it gives, yet it is too seductive and potentially destructive. The solution: censor some poetry altogether (e.g. Od. 1.347-50), revise the rest (e.g. Od. 1.351-52), and rewrite (with The Myth of Er, et al.) what is needed to fill in the gaps. Thus, Plato remolds and recasts poetry in order that it can harmonize with the aims of philosophy,and thus preserve the privileged position of reason in the human mind and in the leadership of society. 72

Penelope and Plato happen to have quite a bit of common ground in respect to their mutual censorship. They both would put an end to Phemius’ singing because of the destructive emotions he has stirred in the name of pleasure.

68 Original Context Plato Rep. 4.424a4-c6 Kαὶ μήν, εἶπον, πολιτεία ἐάνπερ ἅπαξ ὁρμήσῃ εὖ, ἔρχεται ὥσπερ κύκλος αὐξανομένη· τροφὴ γὰρ καὶ παίδευσις χρηστὴ σῳζομένη φύσεις ἀγαθὰς ἐμποιεῖ, καὶ αὖ φύσεις χρησταὶ τοιαύτης παιδείας ἀντιλαμβανόμεναι ἔτι βελτίους τῶν προτέρων φύονται, εἴς τε τἆλλα καὶ εἰς τὸ γεννᾶν, ὥσπερ καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἄλλοις ζῴοις. Εἰκός γ’, ἔφη. Ὡς τοίνυν διὰ βραχέων εἰπεῖν, τούτου ἀνθεκτέον τοῖς ἐπιμεληταῖς τῆς πόλεως, ὅπως ἂν αὐτοὺς μὴ λάθῃ διαφθαρὲν ἀλλὰ παρὰ πάντα αὐτὸ φυλάττωσι, τὸ μὴ νεωτερίζειν περὶ γυμναστικήν τε καὶ μουσικὴν παρὰ τὴν τάξιν, ἀλλ’ ὡς οἷόν τε μάλιστα φυλάττειν, φοβουμένους ὅταν τις λέγῃ ὡς [τὴν ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπιφρονέουσ’ ἄνθρωποι, ἥ τις ἀειδόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται,] μὴ πολλάκις τὸν ποιητήν τις οἴηται λέγειν οὐκ ᾄσματα νέα ἀλλὰ τρόπον ᾠδῆς νέον, καὶ τοῦτο ἐπαινῇ. δεῖ δ’ οὔτ’ ἐπαινεῖν τὸ τοιοῦτον οὔτε ὑπολαμβάνειν. εἶδος γὰρ καινὸν μουσικῆς μεταβάλλειν εὐλαβητέον ὡς ἐν ὅλῳ κινδυνεύοντα· οὐδαμοῦ γὰρ κινοῦνται μουσικῆς τρόποι ἄνευ πολιτικῶν νόμων τῶν μεγίστων, ὥς φησί τε Δάμων καὶ ἐγὼ πείθομαι.

5

b

5

10 c

5

[Socrates:] “And surely, once our city gets a good start, it will go on growing in a cycle. Good education and upbringing, when they are preserved, produce good natures, and useful natures, who are in turn well educated, grow up even better than their predecessors, both in their offspring and in other respects, just like other animals.” [Adeimantus:] “That’s likely.” “To put it briefly, those in charge must cling to education and see that it isn’t corrupted without ever noticing it, guarding it against everything. Above all, they must guard as carefully as they can against any innovation in music and poetry or in physical training that is counter to the established order. And they should dread to hear anyone say: [Men regard that song more which circulates newest among the singers.] Someone might praise such a saying, thinking that the poet meant not new songs but new ways of singing. Such a thing shouldn’t be praised, and the poet shouldn’t be taken to have meant it, for the guardians must beware of changing to a new form of music, since it threatens the whole system. As Damon says, and I am convinced, the musical modes are never changed without change in the most important of a city’s laws.”73

73

See Laws 3.700a-701d for more on the connection between music and morality.

69 Homer Od. 1.325-329, 336-341, 345-352 τοῖσι δ’ ἀοιδὸς ἄειδε περικλυτός, οἱ δὲ σιωπῇ ἥατ’ ἀκούοντες· ὁ δ’ Ἀχαιῶν νόστον ἄειδε λυγρόν, ὃν ἐκ Τροίης ἐπετείλατο Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη. τοῦ δ’ ὑπερωιόθεν φρεσὶ σύνθετο θέσπιν ἀοιδὴν κούρη Ἰκαρίοιο, περίφρων Πηνελόπεια· … δακρύσασα δ’ ἔπειτα προσηύδα θεῖον ἀοιδόν· “Φήμιε, πολλὰ γὰρ ἄλλα βροτῶν θελκτήρια οἶδας, ἔργ’ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε, τά τε κλείουσιν ἀοιδοί· τῶν ἕν γέ σφιν ἄειδε παρήμενος, οἱ δὲ σιωπῇ οἶνον πινόντων· ταύτης δ’ ἀποπαύε’ ἀοιδῆς λυγρῆς, … … τὴν δ’ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα· “μῆτερ ἐμή, τί τ’ ἄρα φθονέεις ἐρίηρον ἀοιδὸν τέρπειν ὅππῃ οἱ νόος ὄρνυται; οὔ νύ τ’ ἀοιδοὶ αἴτιοι, ἀλλά ποθι Ζεὺς αἴτιος, ὅς τε δίδωσιν ἀνδράσιν ἀλφηστῇσιν, ὅπως ἐθέλῃσιν, ἑκάστῳ. τούτῳ δ’ οὐ νέμεσις Δαναῶν κακὸν οἶτον ἀείδειν· [τὴν γὰρ ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπικλείουσ’ ἄνθρωποι, ἥ τις ἀκουόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται.]

325

340 345

350

For them the famous minstrel was singing, and they sat in silence listening; and he sang of the return [νόστον, 326] of the Achaeans – the woeful return from Troy which Pallas Athena laid upon them. And from her upper chamber the daughter of Icarius, wise Penelope, heard his wondrous [θέσπιν, 328] song, … Then she burst into tears, and spoke to the divine [θεῖον, 336] minstrel: “Phemius, many other things you know to charm [θελκτήρια, 337] mortals, deeds of men and gods which minstrels make famous. Sing them one of these, as you sit here, and let them drink their wine in silence. But cease from this woeful song … Then wise Telemachus answered her: “My mother, why do you begrudge the good minstrel to give pleasure [τέρπειν, 347] in whatever way his heart is moved? It is not minstrels that are to blame, but Zeus, I suppose, is to blame, who gives to men that live by toil, to each one as he will. With this man no one can be wroth if he sings of the evil doom of the Danaans; [for men praise that song rather more which circulates newest among the listeners.] Texts Plato Rep. 4.424b8-10 ὡς [τὴν ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπιφρονέουσ’ ἄνθρωποι, ἥτις ἀειδόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται,]

10

70 b9 ἐπιφρονέουσ’] ἐπιφρονέουσ’ A2 F M Stobaeus : ἐπιφρονέουσιν A D Homer Od. 1.351-352 [τὴν γὰρ ἀοιδὴν μᾶλλον ἐπικλείουσ’ ἄνθρωποι, ἥ τις ἀκουόντεσσι νεωτάτη ἀμφιπέληται.]

351

352 ἀκουόντεσσι] αἰόντεσσι Longin. l. c. (codd. aliquot), cf. β 42, Hes. Works 213, Call. Apoll. 17 Textual Differences & Interpretation 1) γὰρ (351) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience] Plato disregards Homer’s γὰρ. In Homer’s original the particle serves as an explanatory link between line 351 and the lines immediately above it.74 As Plato “censors” this preceding material, he dispenses with Homer’s γὰρ, superfluous in its new context. This sort of exclusion of particles, conjunctions, and the like, does occur quite frequently in Plato’s quotations of Homer and the other authors he quotes.75 He is not overly concerned with pedantic accuracy, or accuracy for its own sake. Rather he will alter the quoted text in such a way that it meshes with his own grammatical constructions and syntactical logic.76 Particularly striking in all of this is the fact that such seemingly minor changes typically disrupt the original metrical rhythm of Homer’s lines.77 Plato’s exclusion of γὰρ here is no exception. If we begin scanning with ἀοιδὴν in b10, we do not have six full feet to fill out the hexameter. If we begin with τὴν in b9, the hexameter is clearly defective at its outset, beginning at it does with a long-short-long 74

Smyth [1920] 1980, §§ 2808-9; Denniston [1934] 1996, 60-2. On the superfluousness of γὰρ in this particular passage in Plato, see Labarbe (1949, 202). 75 Cf., e.g. Quotation 8, 9, 22, 36, 37, et al. 76 Quite often, for example, Plato will quote Homer using oratio obliqua and so will freely change Homer’s original nominatives to accusatives or his finite verbs to infinitives. See the Introduction, where this type of misquotation is described in detail. 77 Cf., e.g., Quotation 3, Textual Differences 1, δημιοεργοὶ.

71 combination of syllables. Such a disruption of the meter may be innocuous enough – certainly to quote the lyrics of a modern song, one does not need to sing the words – but such metrical or musical disregard is perhaps evidence of the fact that Plato is not terribly interested in the musical or artistic quality of the lines which he quotes. Like someone who quotes modern song lyrics by saying them rather than singing them, Plato’s concern is with the meaning of Homer’s words, not their musical quality. That is not to say that Plato has no interest in challenging or criticizing Homer’s poetic style; in fact, this topic will be treated in-depth in the final chapter of this study, on poetic lexis. 2) ἐπιφρονέουσ’ (ἐπιφρονέουσιν) (b9) : ἐπικλείουσ’ (151) [Philosophic Revision / Parodic Substitution] First, in Plato, there is some disagreement among the manuscripts. The generally accepted reading in modern texts is as printed above, ἐπιφρονέουσ’, though A and D contain the variant ἐπιφρονέουσιν.78 To my mind, ἐπιφρονέουσιν was likely unnecessarily introduced into the text to avoid hiatus or to differentiate the finite verb form from the feminine participle. ἐπιφρονέουσ’ seems clearly to be the better reading because it does not unnecessarily (further) disrupt the rhythm of the hexameter (exceedingly rare in Plato in mid-line); more importantly, it more closely resembles the original Homeric reading ἐπικλείουσ’ Despite the fact that ἐπιφρονέουσ’ superficially resembles Homer’s reading of ἐπικλείουσ’, I take ἐπιφρονέουσ’ to be an invention of Plato, for the purpose of both philosophic revision and – what is nearly inextricably related – parody.

78

On the character of A and D, see Boter (1989, 86-8 and 94 respectively). A has the status as codex optimus; “D holds a position somewhere between A and F: D’s text is not as good as that of A, but it has been transmitted with much greater care than the text of F” (94).

72 First, however, let us consider Labarbe’s point of view, who does consider ἐπιφρονέουσ’ to be a legitimate variant, arising from the “oral tradition.”79 He argues that since Plato’s ἐπιφρονέουσ’ and Homer’s ἐπικλείουσ’ are metrically identical (the bard just needing to substitute the syllable -φρονέ for -κλεί), such a variant would have come about as a result of the habits of “rhapsodic” composition, which he defines elsewhere more fully as the situation which obtains when a bard substitutes familiar words and phrases as metrical constraints allow, due to an “association psychologique.”80 The problem inherent in Labarbe’s approach in the first place, however, is that his conclusion in regard to ἐπιφρονέουσ’ can be neither confirmed nor denied. To call ἐπιφρονέουσ’ a “lost” variant means essentially that there is no evidence for it.81 ἐπιφρονέουσ’ does not appear anywhere in any manuscript, quotation, or scholia of Homer. In effect, Labarbe is asking us to accept his reading on faith. As such, we have no choice but to treat Labarbe as a voice ex nihilo. While it is certainly possible that ἐπιφρονέουσ’ is a legitimate, lost reading, an orphan of the “oral tradition,” it behooves us to consider other possibilities.82

Below, then, we shall far exceed the depth of Labarbe’s analysis of this textual

problem. We shall carefully consider (1) the Homeric manuscripts, scholia, and the quotations of Odyssey 1.351-352 that appear in other sources;83 (2) the rarity of both ἐπικλείουσ’ and ἐπιφρονέουσ’ especially in regard to the habits of oral composition; and (3) the respective meaning and typical use of each of these words. 79

Labarbe 1949, 205. Labarbe 1949, 101-20. 81 On the logical and interpretive problems with such assumptions see Mitscherling (2003). 82 Thus while Labarbe’s approach may in general offer valuable insight into the nature of rhapsodic composition and the development of Homer’s texts, it has little real value for a philologist. Labarbe’s conclusions also do not offer any insight into the nature and meaning of Plato’s quotations of Homer qua Plato the philosopher and literary artist. 83 While such sources are naturally flawed and incomplete, unlike the oral tradition, such sources at least do survive to bear witness. 80

73 In respect to (1), all of Homer’s manuscripts and scholia corroborate the reading ἐπικλείουσ’. While ἐπικλείουσ’ is a hapax legomenon, like the hapax ἐπιφρονέουσ’ at Odyssey 19.385, it ought not create any suspicions as to its authenticity given the fact that it is merely a compound of a common Greek verb which is found elsewhere in Homer.84 Like the Homeric manuscripts, the rest of Latin and Greek literature also agrees with the reading ἐπικλείουσ’, namely Pliny the Younger (Letters 5.20.8), Sextus Empiricus (Against the Professors 1.204), and the scholiast to Pindar Olympian Ode 9.74.85 While all of these sources are centuries later than Plato himself – and therefore do little to argue against the “oral tradition” as it existed for Plato – they still serve to strengthen substantially the reliability of the reading ἐπικλείουσ’. In respect to (2), “the rarity of both ἐπικλείουσ’ and ἐπιφρονέουσ’ especially in regard to habits of oral composition,” it is not in accord with the bards’ practice, as we – or in fact Labarbe – understand it, to use rare or unusual words to fill out metrical units. ἐπιφρονέουσ’ is a hapax legomenon. It is highly unlikely that such a rare word would have occurred as a variant to an improvising bard. In respect to (3), “the meaning and use of ἐπικλείουσ’ and ἐπιφρονέουσ’,” while both words are hapax legomena, ἐπικλείουσ’ fits the Homeric context, whereas ἐπιφρονέουσ’ does not. First, ἐπικλείουσ’ is not the kind of hapax legomenon whose meaning is unclear; it is a compound of κλείω, and thus similar in meaning to κλείω, which appears both at Odyssey 1.338

84

On hapax legomena used as evidence against the authenticity of readings in Homer see Erbse (1972, 177). 85 The contrast between old and new poetry is also found in Pindar (Ol. 9.48-9: αἴνει δὲ παλαιὸν μὲν οἶνον, ἄνθεα δ’ ὕμνων / νεωτέρων, “while you praise the wine that is old, you shall praise also the flowers of songs that are new”). For the sentiment see also Xenophon (Cyr. 1.6.38).

74 (reproduced above) and also at Odyssey 17.418.86 In each instance, κλείω is used to describe how poetry and words in general spread the glory or reputation of an important person. The use of ἐπικλείουσ’ at Odyssey 1.351 is particularly fitting, then, given the fact that it is both anticipated by the use of κλείω thirteen lines above – and so as a relatively rare word would likely be at the tip of the rhapsodist’s tongue – and is used, like the occurrences of κλείω elsewhere in Homer, to describe the way in which people glorify – or make known the reputation of a poem – that newly “circulates ... among [its] listeners.” ἐπιφρονέουσ’, however, is only used as an attributive participle once in Homer to describe Eurycleia’s sagacity at Odyssey 19.385, there in the form of a feminine participle. In the original Homeric context, such a verb is particularly ill-fitting. There is nothing to suggest in Homer that men ever “consider new songs carefully” (or any songs for that matter). Rather men are described by Telemachus here as simply praising the novelty of songs in their own right. It is especially important to point out that the “careful consideration” denoted by Plato’s ἐπιφρονέουσ’ is precisely at odds with the mental state described by the bard’s audience in this specific passage and in fact throughout Homer. In this passage, the bard’s listeners are twice described as sitting in silence (σιωπῇ, 325, 339), enchanted, completely absorbed in the bard’s song. I would suggest that Plato inserts his invented variant ἐπιφρονέουσ’ here as a means subtly to register his censure of the “zombie-like state” which the bard’s song creates in his listeners. Instead of giving oneself over completely to the bard’s song, listening in unquestioning silence, Plato suggests through his substitution of ἐπιφρονέουσ’ for ἐπικλείουσ’, that “careful consideration” is the better way to approach poetry. In Plato’s understanding of art in the

86

According to Merry (1886, ad loc.), the preposition ἐπί- applied to the route verb “implies that they give their applause as soon as the lay is ended.”

-κλείω

75 Republic after all, the bards’ art causes an unhealthful upheaval of psychic/social harmony, where emotion takes over reason, where unquestioning silence – the antithesis of philosophic activity – holds the audience dumb, captive. Instead, here Plato suggests that when it comes to song – and surely not just “new song” – we must instead resist the bard’s sorcery, if you will, and “carefully consider” the content, the actual effect of his song, from a rational point of view. To sing the praises (ἐπικλείουσ’) of a new song betrays the very lack of critical sense, of prudence, of caution which allows the bard’s listener to be seduced by the power and pleasure of song in the first place. If the listener is not careful, Plato warns, he can be carried away by poetry, allow his emotion to get the best of his reason and thus destroy that harmonious, that just balance in the soul with which the Republic primarily concerns itself. Plato’s change of ἐπικλείουσ’ to ἐπιφρονέουσ’, then, acts as a means to parody or at least philosophically revise the Homeric original. It both ridicules the lack of judgment or care most people have in regard to the corrupting power of traditional Greek poetry and at the same time recommends the proper attitude to have towards poetry. Poetry ought not “to be praised” unless it is using its power for Good, educating the soul and the city in such a way that it inspires the harmony that is justice. 3) ἥτις (b10) : ἥ τις (351) [Atticism/Incorrect Editorial Procedure] This textual difference here is inconsequential, the result of modern editorial procedure. With that noted, the Homeric spacing ought to be adopted in Plato’s text, given that the context is a quotation. 4) ἀειδόντεσσι (b10) : ἀκουόντεσσι (352) [Philosophical Revision/Legitimate Variant]

76 Like ἐπικλείουσ’ in (3) above, ἀκουόντεσσι is well-attested in Homer and later testimonia. As above, we read ἀκουόντεσσι in Pliny, Sextus Empiricus, and the scholiast to Pindar. There is one late source, however, that follows Plato in the reading ἀειδόντεσσι: Stobaeus.87 Howes, the first modern commentator to have discussed Plato’s use of ἀειδόντεσσι for Homer’s ἀκουόντεσσι, writes “Plato is evidently parodying the verse somewhat.”88 Inexplicably, however, Howes does not comment on any other differences in this passage between Plato and Homer’s texts. He also does not explain his position any further, despite the fact that it is hardly self-evident that Plato is engaging in parody. Further, despite Benardete’s generally excellent (though exceedingly brief) analysis of this quotation of Homer in Plato,89 he does not offer any commentary specifically on Plato’s use of ἀειδόντεσσι for Homer’s ἀκουόντεσσι. I would argue that Plato’s variant reading here helps to eliminate the passive role of the poet’s audience. While in Homer new songs circulated “among the listeners,” in Plato they circulate “among the singers.” This change is not nearly as striking as Plato’s change above from ἐπικλείουσ’ to ἐπιφρονέουσ’, but it does act as a natural complement to this change. While Plato’s use of ἐπιφρονέουσ’ for ἐπικλείουσ’ signals a basic shift in the attitude of the listener from uncritical, passive praise of novelty regardless of poetic content, to one of careful, active consideration, Plato’s use of ἀειδόντεσσι takes the listeners yet further out of the passive role as receivers of verse, and makes singers – already being carefully supervised by their audience – solely responsible for novelty in song.

87

On the quality of Stobeaus’ text with regard to Plato, see Dodds ([1959] 1990, 65-6). The fact that Stobaeus follows Plato here, in particular F, is typical of his practice and sources. On this point, see esp. Jones (1902). 88 Howes 1895, 205. 89 Benardete 1963.

77 Labarbe’s view that ἀειδόντεσσι is an ancient Homeric variant,90 arising from the constant recurrence of related forms of ἀοιδός in the preceding verses,91 cannot be dismissed out of hand. It is certainly more probable than his support of ἐπιφρονέουσ’ above as a legitimate variant. Labarbe notes that in the space of 28 verses Homer uses the noun ἀοιδός five times, the noun ἀοιδή three times, and the verb ἀείδειν three times. Here his notion of an association psychologique as the genesis of variants arising from the “oral tradition” clearly bears fruit. Thus, in this instance it is not entirely possible to make a strong argument in favor of either Labarbe’s or my position. Suffice it to say that ἀειδόντεσσι is a useful variant for Plato given ἐπιφρονέουσ’ above and his general attitude towards poetry, but attractive though it may seem, there is not enough evidence to call it an invention of Plato outright. Finally, it is interesting to consider the possibility that Plato may have chosen between variants here, taking ἀειδόντεσσι over ἀκουόντεσσι as it suited his context better.

Quotation 2: Plato Rep. 3.411b4 : Homer Il. 17.588 (Cf. Allusions 16-17; Quotation 19)92 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.411a5-b4 Οὐκοῦν ὅταν μέν τις μουσικῇ παρέχῃ καταυλεῖν καὶ καταχεῖν τῆς ψυχῆς διὰ τῶν ὤτων ὥσπερ διὰ χώνης ἃς νυνδὴ ἡμεῖς ἐλέγομεν τὰς γλυκείας τε καὶ μαλακὰς καὶ θρηνώδεις ἁρμονίας, καὶ μινυρίζων τε καὶ γεγανωμένος ὑπὸ τῆς ᾠδῆς διατελῇ τὸν βίον ὅλον, οὗτος τὸ μὲν πρῶτον, εἴ τι θυμοειδὲς εἶχεν, ὥσπερ σίδηρον ἐμάλαξεν καὶ χρήσιμον 90

5

10

Labarbe 1949, 206. Cf. Od. 1.346; 347; 350. 92 These citations introduce in Plato the metaphor of the “tempering” of the soul. 91

78 ἐξ ἀχρήστου καὶ σκληροῦ ἐποίησεν· ὅταν δ’ ἐπέχων μὴ ἀνιῇ ἀλλὰ κηλῇ, τὸ δὴ μετὰ τοῦτο ἤδη τήκει καὶ λείβει, ἕως ἂν ἐκτήξῃ τὸν θυμὸν καὶ ἐκτέμῃ ὥσπερ νεῦρα ἐκ τῆς ψυχῆς καὶ ποιήσῃ [“μαλθακὸν αἰχμητήν.”]

b

“Therefore, when someone gives music an opportunity to charm his soul with the flute and to pour those sweet, soft [μαλακὰς, a7], and plaintive tunes we mentioned through his ear, as through a funnel, when he spends his whole life humming them and delighting in them, at first, whatever spirit [θυμοειδὲς, a10] he has is softened [ἐμάλαξεν, a10], just as iron is tempered, and from being hard [σκληροῦ, b1] and useless [ἀχρήστου, b1], it is made useful [χρήσιμον, a10]. But if he keeps at it unrelentingly and is beguiled [κηλῇ, b2] by the music, after a time his spirit [θυμὸν, b3] is melted and dissolved until it vanishes, and the very sinews of his soul [ψυχῆς, b3] are cut out and he becomes [‘a cowardly warrior.’].” Homer Il. 17.567-590 ὣς φάτο, γήθησεν δὲ θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη, ὅττί ῥά οἱ πάμπρωτα θεῶν ἠρήσατο πάντων. ἐν δὲ βίην ὤμοισι καὶ ἐν γούνεσσιν ἔθηκε, καί οἱ μυίης θάρσος ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐνῆκεν, ἥ τε καὶ ἐργομένη μάλα περ χροὸς ἀνδρομέοιο ἰσχανάᾳ δακέειν, λαρόν τέ οἱ αἷμ’ ἀνθρώπου· τοίου μιν θάρσευς πλῆσε φρένας ἀμφὶ μελαίνας, βῆ δ’ ἐπὶ Πατρόκλῳ, καὶ ἀκόντισε δουρὶ φαεινῷ. ἔσκε δ’ ἐνὶ Τρώεσσι Ποδῆς υἱὸς Ἠετίωνος ἀφνειός τ’ ἀγαθός τε· μάλιστα δέ μιν τίεν Ἕκτωρ δήμου, ἐπεί οἱ ἑταῖρος ἔην φίλος εἰλαπιναστής· τόν ῥα κατὰ ζωστῆρα βάλε ξανθὸς Μενέλαος ἀί̈ξαντα φόβον δέ, διὰ πρὸ δὲ χαλκὸν ἔλασσε· δούπησεν δὲ πεσών· ἀτὰρ Ἀτρεί̈δης Μενέλαος νεκρὸν ὑπ’ ἐκ Τρώων ἔρυσεν μετὰ ἔθνος ἑταίρων. Ἕκτορα δ’ ἐγγύθεν ἱστάμενος ὄτρυνεν Ἀπόλλων Φαίνοπι Ἀσιάδῃ ἐναλίγκιος, ὅς οἱ ἁπάντων ξείνων φίλτατος ἔσκεν Ἀβυδόθι οἰκία ναίων· τῷ μιν ἐεισάμενος προσέφη ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων· Ἕκτορ τίς κέ σ’ ἔτ’ ἄλλος Ἀχαιῶν ταρβήσειεν; οἷον δὴ Μενέλαον ὑπέτρεσας, ὃς τὸ πάρος γε [μαλθακὸς αἰχμητής;] νῦν δ’ οἴχεται οἶος ἀείρας νεκρὸν ὑπ’ ἐκ Τρώων, σὸν δ’ ἔκτανε πιστὸν ἑταῖρον ἐσθλὸν ἐνὶ προμάχοισι Ποδῆν υἱὸν Ἠετίωνος.

570

575

580

585

590

So Menelaus spoke [pledging to protect the corpse of Patroclus], and the goddess, flashing-eyed Athene [disguised as Phoenix], waxed glad, for that to her first of all the gods he made his prayer. And she put strength into his shoulders and his knees, and in his breast set the daring of

79 the fly [μυίης θάρσος, 570], that though it be driven away never so often from the skin of a man, ever persists in biting, and sweet to it is the blood of man; even with such daring filled she his dark heart within him, and he stood over Patroclus and hurled with his bright spear. Now among the Trojans was one Podes, son of Eetion, a rich man and a valiant one, and Hector honored him above all the people, for that he was his comrade, a welcome companion at the feast [εἰλαπιναστής, 577]. Him, fair-haired Menelaus smote upon the belt with a spear cast as he started to flee, and drove the bronze clean through; and he fell with a thud. But Menelaus, son of Atreus, dragged the dead body from amid the Trojans into the throng of his comrades. Then Apollo drew near to Hector and urged him on in the likeness of Asius’ son Phaenops, that of all his guest-friends was dearest to him, and had his house at Abydus. In his likeness Apollo that strikes from afar spoke to Hector: Hector, what man beside of the Achaeans will fear you any more, seeing that you have drawn back before Menelaus, who aforetime was [a cowardly warrior?] Now with none to aid him has he taken the dead from out the ranks of the Trojans and is gone – aye, he hath slain your trusty comrade, a good man among the foremost fighters, even Podes, son of Eetion. Texts Plato Rep. 3.411b4 καὶ ποιήσῃ [“μαλθακὸν αἰχμητήν.”] Homer Il. 17.588 [μαλθακὸς αἰχμητής·] νῦν δ’ οἴχεται οἶος ἀείρας Textual Difference 1) μαλθακὸν αἰχμητήν (b4) : μαλθακὸς αἰχμητής (588) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience] In Plato’s quotation of Homer, both here in the Republic and in the Symposium, he changes Homer’s nominative forms to accusatives, so that they appropriately fit the construction of their “new” sentence as verbal objects, quite typical as we shall see in Plato’s Homeric citations. Interpretation To complement Quotation 1 above, here Socrates makes the danger of the bewitching power music even more explicit. Discussing the harmonious blend of qualities that a good guardian

80 must attain (cf. Rep. 2.374c-376c), at Rep. 3.410d Socrates argues that a balance must be struck between “savagery” (ἀγριότητός, d1) and “harshness” (σκληρότητος, d1) on the one hand, and “softness” (μαλακίας, d1) and “gentleness” (ἡμερότητος, d2) on the other. This delicate balance can be overthrown to the side of the former qualities given an excessive attention to physical training, to the latter due to an excessive attention to training in music and poetry. What is at stake here ultimately is an overall harmonious balance between the emotive part of the soul (τὸ θυμοειδές) – which governs such things as “savagery” (ἀγριότης) and “harshness” (σκληρότης), which properly cultivated become “courage” (ἀνδρεία)93 – and the reasoning part of the soul (τὸ φιλόσοφον) – which governs such things as “softness” (μαλακία) and “gentleness” (ἡμερότης), which properly cultivated become (a form of) “moderation” (σωφροσύνη).94 At Rep. 3.411b4, Socrates quotes Il. 17.588 in order to color his point that an excessive attention to the beguiling power of music and poetry makes for a “cowardly warrior [μαλθακὸν αἰχμητήν]” At Iliad 17.588, this same phrase is used by the god Apollo to describe Menelaus. After Menelaus succeeds in recovering Patroclus’ body, Apollo chides Hector about shrinking back (ὑπέτρεσας, 587) from such a “cowardly warrior” as Menelaus. It is perhaps interesting to note, however, that Menelaus owes his success here to his philosophic nature, in a manner of speaking. In this episode Menelaus is able to perform beyond his ordinary capabilities because Athene has infused his spirit with the “daring of the fly” (μυίης θάρσος, 570).95 In a fairly clear parodic allusion to this passage at Apology 30e – albeit one that has not been noted heretofore in 93

Cf. Statesman 307c which, like the Republic, also concerns itself with the specific harmony needed to cultivate courage. 94 On Plato’s tripartite model of the human soul, see especially Rep. 4.435c-436b. 95 For other fly similes in Homer, see Il. 2.469, 4.131, and 16.641.

81 scholarship – Socrates describes his own philosophic activity in Athens by means of this Homeric metaphor, which he himself calls, unapologetically to Homer, “rather laughable” (γελοιότερον, e2): “for if you put me to death, you will not easily find another, who ... attaches himself to the polis, just as to a large, well-bred horse, sluggish due to its size, in need of being woken up by a certain gadfly [μύωπός τινος, e5].” In appropriating this metaphor, Plato is both able to mock Homer’s style96 and also set up Socrates as a hero whose bravery (in pursuing his philosophic mission despite death) is on par with or perhaps greater than that of a Homeric hero. It is important to point out that Socrates’ allusion to the character of Menelaus is not entirely fair; Plato, after all, had to search his Homer far-and-wide to find such a negative characterization of Menelaus. Menelaus is only called μαλθακὸς αἰχμητ́ης by an enemy, so that Apollo can urge Hector on by appealing to his sense of shame. How appropriate, then, that Plato, an “enemy” of the Homeric model of heroism, would quote these very words in turn. And so while Menelaus is certainly not described by Homer in as glowing terms as Achilles – Menelaus’ most common epithet refers to the color of his hair! (cf. ξανθὸς, Il. 3.284, et al.) – his excellence in warfare is a common feature of Homer’s descriptions of him. Menelaus is

96

Additional mockery may occur here as Socrates refers to a “rather laughable” Homeric metaphor that has the odd distinction of appearing in the context of rhyming with the line which appears immediately above it: : ... ἐν γούνεσσιν ἔθηκε, (569) // ... ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐνῆκεν, (570). It is impossible to generalize about the desirability of rhyming in Greek poetry, not in the least because a great deal of rhyme is unintentional. In Greek prose, however, the situation is somewhat different. Gorgias was famous for his use of rhyme, for example, and the intermingling of poetry and prose style in general (i.e. “speech having meter” Helen 9). Plato at Hipparchus 225c mocks the use of rhyme in rhetoric, but it is unclear whether this prejudice would have carried over to poetry as well. For more ancient opinions on rhyme in rhetorical discourse, see Aristotle (Rhet. 3.9.9), Quintilian (9.3), and Demetrius (Rhet. Gr. 3.262-68).

82 variously referred to as “good in respect to the war cry” (βοὴν ἀγαθός),97 “far famed for his spear” (δουρικλειτός),98 “beloved of the war god” (ἀρηΐφιλος),99 and “war-like” (ἀρήϊος).100 Cross-Reference Plato also quotes Il 17.588 at Symposium 174c1, a citation that is particularly illuminating to our discussion here (and generally for this work as a whole). In the Symposium, Socrates treats this Homeric line in an extremely playful fashion.101 He accuses Homer of “corrupting” (διαφθεῖραι, b6) and “treating with contempt” (ὑβρίσαι, b6)102 the traditional proverb “the good on their own accord go to feasts of the good” (αὐτόματοι δ̓ ἀγαθοὶ ἀγαθῶν ἐπὶ δαῖτας ἴασι)103 because he depicts the cowardly (i.e. bad) warrior Menelaus, uninvited, attending a feast with Agamemnon “a good man in respect to warfare” (ἀγαθὸν ἄνδρα τὰ πολεμικά, Sym.

97

Cf. Il. 2.408; 586; 3.96; 6.37; 10.35; 60; 13.593; 15.568; 17.246; 560; 656; 665; Od. 3.311; 4.307; 609; 15.57; 67; 92; 97; 17.120. 98 Cf. Il. 5.55; 578; 10.230; 23.355; Od. 15.52. 99 Cf. Il. 3.21; 136; 232; 253; 4.150; 5.561; 11.463; 17.138; Od. 15.169. 100 Cf. Il. 3.339; 11.489; 15.540; 16.311; 17.79. In neutral terms, Menelaus is also referred to by his patronymic Ἀτρεΐδης six times in Homer (Il. 5.55; 6.44; 17.46; 60; Od. 4.185; 470). As Leaf (1900-2, ad loc.) describes the characterization of Menelaus in Homer: “It is, however, true that there is often something disparaging in the way in which Menelaus is spoken of, though in action he always proves better than his reputation.” 101 On this point, see Bury (1909, ad. loc.): “The suggestion that Homer willfully distorted a proverb which in his day was non-existent is, as Hug observes, obviously jocose.” Labarbe (1949, 312-3) notes Plato’s quotation of Il 17.588 in the Republic, but only comments on its significance in the Symposium. Strangely, Labarbe (1949, 313) fails to note the humorous tone of the citation in the Symposium. Instead, he sees it as evidence of Plato’s interest in criticizing the internal consistency of Homer. 102 On the precise connotations of διαφθεῖραι and ὑβρίσαι in this passage, see Dover (2004, ad loc.) and Bury (1909, ad loc.). 103 As Bury (1909, ad loc.) reports, two forms of the proverb are extant: (1) αὐτόματοι δ̓ ἀγαθοὶ ἀγαθῶν ἐπὶ δαῖτας ἴασι (Hesiod fr. 264; Bacchylides fr. 22.4-6; et al., including many post-Platonic authors); and (2) αὐτόματοι δ̓ ἀγαθοὶ δειλῶν ἐπὶ δαῖτας ἴασι (Eupolis fr. 289). According to the scholiast, (1) is the original form – likely altered for the purpose of parody by the comic poet Eupolis to (2).

83 174b7-c1).104 Socrates’ ironical treatment of the line goes even further here as in the midst of accusing Homer of corrupting a proverb, he himself does so as well, as he substitutes the proverb’s original ἀγαθῶν with the proper name of the man’s feast he himself is on his way to attend, the poet Agathon (Ἀγάθων’ Sym.174b4). In the process, moreover, Socrates “corrupts” and “treats with contempt” Homer as well; in Homer, when Menelaus goes “on his own accord” to feast with Agamemnon, he is referred to by using one of his standard, positive epithets, “good in respect to the war cry” (αὐτόματος δέ οἱ ἦλθε βοὴν ἀγαθὸς Μενέλαος, Il. 2.408). Socrates, however, takes Homer out-of-context, thus citing an unrelated instance in the epic where Menelaus is called cowardly (ironically at a point where he performs one of his bravest deeds), in order to demonstrate in a playful way that Homer has taken a well-known proverb incorrectly. At any rate, Plato, through Socrates, shows that he is a master manipulator of Homer and proverbs in general. Plato is able to replace Homer’s “bad” hero Menelaus with his own “good” hero Socrates, sending him to a “feast” that nourishes the mind, rather than a Homeric one that just nourishes the body. At the very least, then, this reference to Homer in the Symposium shows how playful Plato can be with the art of citation. It also shows him wellaware and quite willing to “corrupt” and “treat with contempt” Homer and other authors for the purpose of humor, parody, or as we shall also see throughout below, polemic.

104

On Menelaus lack of invitation, see Il. 2.408.

84 2. Plato’s Quarrel with Homer’s “Divine Bard”

... ἐγὼ δὲ πλέον’ ἕλπομαι λόγον Ὀδυσσέος ἢ πάθαν διὰ τὸν ἁδυεπῆ γενέσθ’ Ὅμηρον· ἐπεὶ ψεύδεσί οἱ ποτανᾷ τε μαχανᾷ σεμνὸν ἔπεστί τι· σοφία δὲ κλέπτει παράγοισα μύθοις· τυφλὸν δ’ ἔχει ἦτορ ὅμιλος ἀνδρῶν ὁ πλεῖστος. εἰ γὰρ ἦν ἓ τὰν ἀλάθειαν ἰδέμεν ... (Pindar Nemean 7.20-24) And I expect that the story of Odysseus came to exceed his experiences, through the sweet songs of Homer, since there is a certain solemnity in his lies and winged artfulness, and poetic skill deceives, seducing us with stories, and the heart of the mass of men is blind.

Given Plato’s treatment of truth and falsehood above, in a series of citations of Homer in the Republic to be treated below, Plato works to erode the authority and dignity of Homer’s “lying” bards. Plato makes his attitude towards professional singers in the Ion quite clear: the talent of a bard is dependent on inspiration alone; he lacks episteme, techne, and nous (cf. 532c5-8, 533d13, 534b6) and thus has no expertise in interpreting Homer or understanding the subjects about which he speaks. In the Republic, however, Plato’s criticism of professional singers takes a more subtle turn. In Book 3 of the Republic, Plato quotes from several passages in the Odyssey that feature bards prominently and that include effluent praise of the art of the “divine bard” (θέσπιν ἀοιδόν).105 At Rep. 3.389d2-3 (Quotation 3) and at Rep 3.390a10-b2 (Quotation 4), Plato carefully suppresses the material that portrays bards in a positive light, quoting only those lines from the passages which immediately precede or follow this positive treatment of professional 105

Cf. Od. 1.328; 8.498; 17.385. See also Homeric Hymn 4.415 and Euripides (Medea 425). On Plato’s view of the “divine bard” in general, see P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 183-4. See also Ion 534b3-4.

85 singers, thus silently registering his criticism of the bards’ art through a kind of “implied censorship.” Through a series of allusions as well, to be treated below as Allusions 2-3 below, Plato philosophically revises the myths of the two most famous singers from Greek mythology, Thamyris and Orpheus, and also revisits the themes of expertise and lying in literature respectively.

Quotation 3: Plato Rep. 3.389d2-3 : Homer Od. 17.383-384 Interpretive Context In Republic 3.389d2-3, Plato’s Socrates warns that the rulers of his city-in-speech must be wary of experts who misuse their authority to lie to and corrupt the young. He colors his point by quoting from Eumaeus’ list of “experts” (δημιοεργοὶ) from Odyssey 17.383-384. He omits, however, the final expert on this list and the only one to which Eumaeus offers especial praise: “[the] divine minstrel, who gives delight with his song … [and is] bidden all over the boundless earth” (ἢ καὶ θέσπιν ἀοιδόν, ὅ κεν τέρπῃσιν ἀείδων … κλητοί … ἐπ’ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν, Od. 17.385-386). As in the Ion, here bards are again stripped of their status as experts. According to Socrates’ argument they are the most dangerous kind of “experts” after all, as they abuse their position of authority in society by repeating the corrupting lies the poets have composed about the character and nature of the gods and heroes (cf. Rep. 2.364d-383b; 3.386c391c). In Homer, Eumaeus provides his list of experts in order to outline in his view the proper limits of xenia. Immediately beforehand, Eumaeus had brought Odysseus-beggar into the

86 palace. Odysseus avoids the attention and ire of the Suitors so long as “the divine bard” (θεῖος ἀοιδός, Od. 17.385 ) sings. The moment his song ends – its spell broken – the Suitors’ kindly mood departs. Athene in disguise – a “lie” in Plato’s view of divinity according to tupos 2 – urges Odysseus to make trial of the Suitors by begging, to learn “which of them were righteous and which lawless” (οἵ τινές εἰσιν ἐναίσιμοι οἵ τ᾽ ἀθέμιστοι, Od. 17.363).106 The Suitors are gracious enough towards Odysseus-beggar at first, but when Melanthius tells them that Eumaeus brought Odysseus-beggar into the halls, Antinous – in a moment rich with irony, which Eumaeus himself notes – rebukes Eumaeus for bringing a beggar into the halls to feed on and thus destroy Odysseus’ household (Od. 17.374-379). Eumaeus replies that no one would willingly seek out a beggar from abroad; such invitations, he explains, are reserved only for experts in a given craft, chief among them the “divine bard.” While in Homer, Eumaius provides his list in order to name only those “experts” who, in contrast to beggars, one would gladly welcome into a community, Plato shows by Socrates’ omission not only that bards do not belong in a list of experts in the first place, but that they, like beggars, ought to be shunned, prohibited from society. By propogating and interpreting the poets’ “lies,” bards, however, do far more harm to society than a beggar could who merely lives by his belly. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.389b7-d5 Τοῖς ἄρχουσιν δὴ τῆς πόλεως, εἴπερ τισὶν ἄλλοις, προσήκει ψεύδεσθαι ἢ πολεμίων ἢ πολιτῶν ἕνεκα ἐπ’ ὠφελίᾳ τῆς πόλεως, τοῖς δὲ ἄλλοις πᾶσιν οὐχ ἁπτέον τοῦ τοιούτου· ἀλλὰ πρός γε δὴ τοὺς τοιούτους ἄρχοντας ἰδιώτῃ ψεύσασι ταὐτὸν καὶ μεῖζον ἁμάρτημα φήσομεν ἢ κάμνοντι πρὸς ἰατρὸν 106

c

It is standard practice for Odysseus to make this inquiry whenever he enters a foreign land.

87 ἢ ἀσκοῦντι πρὸς παιδοτρίβην περὶ τῶν τοῦ αὑτοῦ σώματος παθημάτων μὴ τἀληθῆ λέγειν, ἢ πρὸς κυβερνήτην περὶ τῆς νεώς τε καὶ τῶν ναυτῶν μὴ τὰ ὄντα λέγοντι ὅπως ἢ αὐτὸς ἤ τις τῶν συνναυτῶν πράξεως ἔχει. Ἀληθέστατα, ἔφη. Ἂν ἄρ’ ἄλλον τινὰ λαμβάνῃ ψευδόμενον ἐν τῇ πόλει-[τῶν οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασι, μάντιν ἢ ἰητῆρα κακῶν ἢ τέκτονα δούρων,] κολάσει ὡς ἐπιτήδευμα εἰσάγοντα πόλεως ὥσπερ νεὼς ἀνατρεπτικόν τε καὶ ὀλέθριον.

5 d

5

d2 δημιοεργοὶ] δημιουργοὶ A F D M Stobaeus [Socrates:] “Then if it is appropriate for anyone to use falsehoods [ψεύδεσθαι, b8] for the good [ἐπ’ ὠφελίᾳ, b8] of the city, because of the actions of either enemies or citizens, it is the rulers.107 But everyone else must keep away from them, because for a private citizen to lie [ψεύσασθαι, c1] to a ruler is just as bad a mistake as for a sick person or athlete not to tell the truth [τἀληθῆ, c4] to his doctor or trainer about his physical condition or for a sailor not to tell the captain the facts [τὰ ὄντα, c5] about his own condition or that of the ship and the rest of its crew – indeed it is a worse mistake than either of these.” [Adeimantus:] “That’s completely true [Ἀληθέστατα, c7].” “And if the ruler catches someone else telling falsehoods [ψευδόμενον, d1] in the city – [One of those that are masters of some public craft, a prophet, or a healer of ills, or a maker of spears] -- he’ll punish him for introducing something as subversive and destructive to a city as it would be to a ship.” Homer Od. 17.382-385 τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφης, Εὔμαιε συβῶτα· “Ἀντίνο’, οὐ μὲν καλὰ καὶ ἐσθλὸς ἐὼν ἀγορεύεις· τίς γὰρ δὴ ξεῖνον καλεῖ ἄλλοθεν αὐτὸς ἐπελθὼν ἄλλον γ’, εἰ μὴ [τῶν οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασι, μάντιν ἢ ἰητῆρα κακῶν ἢ τέκτονα δούρων,] ἢ καὶ θέσπιν ἀοιδόν, ὅ κεν τέρπῃσιν ἀείδων; οὗτοι γὰρ κλητοί γε βροτῶν ἐπ’ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν· πτωχὸν δ’ οὐκ ἄν τις καλέοι τρύξοντα ἓ αὐτόν.

380

385

To him then, swineherd Eumaeus, spoke in reply: “Antinous, you speak no fair words [καλὰ, 380], noble [ἐσθλὸς, 381] as you are. For who in fact himself ever seeks out and bids a stranger from abroad, unless it be [one of those that are masters of some public craft, a prophet, or a 107

For ancient views on rulers lying for the benefit of the state (comic and philosophic respectively), see Aristophanes (Knights 1226) and Xenophon (Mem. 2.6.37).

88 healer of ills, or a maker of spears] aye, or a divine minstrel, who gives delight with his song? For these men are bidden all over the boundless earth. Yet a beggar would no man bid to be a burden to himself. Texts Plato Rep. 3.389d2-3 [τῶν οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασι, μάντιν ἢ ἰητῆρα κακῶν ἢ τέκτονα δούρων,] d2 δημιοεργοὶ] δημιουργοὶ A F D M Stobaeus Homer Od. 17.383-86 ἄλλον γ’, εἰ μὴ [τῶν οἳ δημιοεργοὶ ἔασι, μάντιν ἢ ἰητῆρα κακῶν ἢ τέκτονα δούρων,] ἢ καὶ θέσπιν ἀοιδόν, ὅ κεν τέρπῃσιν ἀείδων; οὗτοι γὰρ κλητοί γε βροτῶν ἐπ’ ἀπείρονα γαῖαν·

385

Textual Differences & Interpretation 1) δημιοεργοὶ (δημιουργοὶ A F D M) (d2 & 385) [Modern Editorial Error (Atticism)] Looking at a modern text, Plato seems to follow Homer exactly. The modern text, however, has been emended. Following Herman, every modern editor has “corrected” the unanimous reading in Plato’s manuscripts – including that of Stobaeus – changing the original reading of δημιουργοὶ to the epic form δημιοεργοὶ so that Plato’s text both scans properly and matches Homer’s language exactly.108 This editorial decision, however, seems likely to be in error. First, it is typical of Plato’s treatment of poetic quotations not to hesitate to include prose or Attic forms, i.e. δημιουργοὶ.109 Plato also does not hesitate to quote poetry in disregard of its original meter.110 At the beginning of his quotations especially, Plato tends to adopt a hybrid 108

Hermann 1911. On this point, see Labarbe (1949, 188). 110 Cf., e.g., Quotation 1, Textual Differences 1, γὰρ. 109

89 prose/poetic style.111 In this particular example, δημιουργοὶ is near the beginning of Socrates’ quotation of Homer and thus still embedded, as it were, in a prosaic, Attic mode of speaking. Once Socrates quotes a full line, that which appears below the half line in which δημιουργοὶ appears, his language and therefore meter is identical to that of Homer. Given his interest in the crafts in general and the idea of expert knowledge, Plato uses the word δημιουργοὶ far more than any other ancient Greek author: 33 times in all,112 in each case using its Attic form, δημιουργοὶ; δημιοεργοὶ, in fact, never appears in Plato save in this one (mistaken) modern “correction.” In conclusion, then, the adoption of the form δημιοεργοὶ results from modern editors confusing their wish that Plato quoted with the same stringent principles of accuracy as they themselves apply to classical texts, with the reality of Plato’s actual habits of quotation. In the process these editors have disregarded the most important material in their trade: the manuscripts themselves. Interpretation While Labarbe’s treatment of the textual difficulties in this citation is sound, his interpretation is not nearly as sensitive. Labarbe fails to note that Plato’s quotation of Homer is in any way incomplete, namely that he breaks it off right before Eumaeus mentions the last type of expert on his list: bards. Instead, Labarbe is content to call the quotation an example of “ornamental

111

Plato does this, for example, by integrating the quotation into his own grammatical constructions, doing such things as interrupting the quotation mid-line with such things as “he says” (cf., e.g. Plato’s insertion of φάναι at Rep. 3.388c4, quoting Il. 22.168-69 in Quotation 23) or by putting a quotation into indirect statement (cf., e.g. Quotation 20). On Plato’s free mixture of epic and Attic forms see, e.g., Quotation 7. 112 For the sake of comparison δημιοεργοὶ appears only twice in all of Homer, namely at Od. 19.135 in addition to the passage above. At Od. 19.135, the variant δημιουργοὶ occurs in one manuscript: Pal (a. 1201).

90 speech” (une parure du discourse),113 a way for Plato to dress up his language by making an otherwise bland point more interesting through a reference to Homer.114 As noted above, however, I take the quotation to be an example of “implied censorship.”115 Here Plato quotes a well-known passage, but breaks it off abruptly in order to censor an idea – that poets have any sort of expertise – that is so thoroughly against his philosophic position that it must be avoided entirely. Such implied censorship, of course, carries with it some risk on the part of the writer; namely he needs good and careful readers. We can only imagine, of course, what the response of Plato’s contemporary audience would have been. But we can imagine it would have been substantially different from that of the modern reader. Plato’s contemporaries, schooled as they were in Homer’s poetry, may have easily noticed that Socrates cuts Eumaeus’ list of experts short, leaving off bards. In much the same way that the next lyric to a well-known song still rings in the listeners’ ear even after it has been interrupted, Plato’s contemporary audience may have filled this line out in its entirety, despite Plato’s ellipsis.116 Its subsequent absence, then, would have struck the listener as odd, that is, until he considered the potential meaning of it. That the Homeric lines that Plato quotes were well-known, a common starting point for discussing the value of music and poetry, is supported by Aristotle’s citation of Od. 17.381-86 at 113

Labarbe 1949, 188. For this function of quotation in ancient authors in general see Halliwell (2000, esp. 95-7) and Tarrant (1951). 115 For a full definition and illustration of this rhetorical strategy, see the Introduction, Text and Context. 116 Mitscherling (2008, 419) is more conservative in considering this possibility: “One wonders if the members of [Plato’s] contemporary audience were sufficiently familiar with the Homeric text to enable them to recognize this [omission].” Mitscherling is the first modern scholar to have published the observation (and speculate about the meaning of the fact) that Plato does not quote Od. 17-385-6: “It is interesting to note that he does not quote the two verses immediately following.” Clay (2003, 13), the only other commentator besides Labarbe to comment on this citation of Homer in Plato at any length, likewise writes rather conservatively: “to register its meaning, Plato’s reader must have a formidable memory of poetry.” 114

91 Pol. 1338a25 ff.: “Hence our predecessors included music in education not as a necessity (ἀναγκαῖον) ... nor as useful (χρήσιμον)117 ... it remains therefore [that music is pursued] for the sake of passing time in leisure [ἐν τῇ σχολῇ] ...” Thereafter Aristotle cites Od. 17.381-86. At any rate, regardless of the care and attention of Plato’s contemporary audience – such is ultimately speculation and would vary from audience member to audience member – what is the context that would allow Plato’s omission of bards here to be meaningful? The most obvious answer is that Socrates has since at least Rep. 2.376a been purging Homer and the poets of their various “lies” concerning the gods, heroes, and the afterlife, a censorship that will culminate with the exile of the poets in Rep. 10.595a. It is clear, then, that Plato has an uneasy relationship with the poets in Republic, but also with bards specifically, those who propagate and interpret the poets’ lies.118 Most importantly, he denies in the Ion that bards are rightly masters of any craft. Rather they recite based on inspiration alone, having no episteme, techne, or nous (cf. 532c5-8, 533d1-3, 534b6). The significance is all the greater considering the fact that Plato has just been demonstrating that poets like Homer and Hesiod tell the worst sorts of lies, “true lies.” They tell muthoi about things of which they have no definite knowledge, considering the pleasure of their audience before the Good. Like any “expert,” poets have the ability to do a great deal of damage should they choose to lie – they have the authority and prestige to grant them instant credibility after all Yet, in abusing this power with their poetic lies, lies which serve no “useful”

117

Aristotle’s use of the word “useful” (χρήσιμον) here is perhaps meant to recall Plato’s assessment of poetry in the Republic. Plato does not concern himself at all with the value of leisure; if poetry is going to have an effect on the soul, it must have a good one, in the sense of a useful one. We must remember that the contexts of Aristotle’s and Plato’s works are vastly different. Aristotle is attempting to state his views on music and poetry as clearly as possible, whereas Plato allows the characters in his dialogue to consider the value of poetry and to consider its value only in terms of founding the ideal city / human soul. 118 Cf. Apol. 22b-c; Phaed. 245a; Ion; Men. 99c-d; et al.

92 (χρήσιμος) purpose, they create disharmony both in the human mind and society-at-large, that which is at the very heart of the definition of justice in Republic. What is also important to note in this passage is that, as Penelope Murray observes, “Socrates switches from talking about what poets should and should not say to considering the possible benefits of falsehood for the rulers of the city.”119 All other experts, however, and perhaps more importantly the citizens of the ideal polis must always tell the “whole truth.” This view has extraordinary implications for how the speech – and later the muthoi – of Socrates is to be taken, the founder of the city-in-speech, whose special dispensation to tell lies extends, it seems, even to the telling of lies to the guardians themselves – for their own good, of course. A “good lie” after all seems to depend entirely on knowledge: (1) one has to have the self-awareness, i.e. self-knowledge, that he is telling a lie in the first place; (2) his knowledge must be superior to that of his audience; (3) his aim must always be directed to what he does actually know: how to achieve the Good.

Paraphrase 1: Plato Rep. 3.390a8-9 : Homer Od. 9.1, 5-6 & Quotation 4: Plato Rep. 3.390a10-b2 : Homer Od. 9.8-10 Interpretive Context Immediately following Quotation 3 above, at Rep. 3.390d, Socrates turns the discussion to the virtue of moderation: “what about moderation [σωφροσύνης]? Won’t our young people also 119

P. Murray [1996] 2007, ad loc.

93 need that?” He then defines moderation as obedience toward the rulers and moderation in respect to the pleasure of drink, sex, and food. Socrates then proceeds to quote several passages from Homer that he either approves of in respect to moderation or rejects,120 though he admits wryly that in all cases the lines quoted “are pleasing in other ways” (Rep. 3.390a5). At Rep. 3.390a10-b2, Socrates quotes Od. 9.8-10 as a negative exemplar for moderation. In Homer, at Od. 9.8-10, Odysseus, among the Phaeacians, begins to weep excessively, “like a woman” (ὡς δὲ γυνὴ, Od. 8.553) as Homer puts it, in reaction to the song he himself had just requested from “the divine bard” (θεῖος ἀοιδός, Od. 8.539), Demodocus, about the Trojan Horse (Od. 8.492 ff.). While Odysseus attempts to conceal his tears – and thus “the truth” of his emotional state, as it were (ἐλάνθανε δάκρυα, Od. 8.532), King Alcinous notices and asks Demodocus to cease from singing. Demodocus’ song has failed to be pleasureable: “in no wise to all alike does he give pleasure [χαριζόμενος, 538] with this song.” Thereafter Alcinous asks Odysseus to reveal once and for all the whole truth of his true identity: “Therefore no longer hide [κεῦθε, 548] with crafty thought [νοήμασι κερδαλέοισιν, 548] whatever I shall ask you; to speak out plainly [φάσθαι, 549] is the better course.” (Od. 8.548-49). And so Odysseus, disguised in every way at this point – a situation that may already be a negative in Plato’s view, given his condemnation of disguise and transformation in the case of gods – takes the place of the divine bard Demodocus and sings his own tale from Book 9 to 12 of the Odyssey, the socalled Ἀλκίνου ἀπόλογος.121 We assume, perhaps somewhat naively, that this story of Odysseus’ is, in fact, the actual truth.

120

All of these citations will be variously discussed in Chapters 3 & 4. Plato quotes the title of this story at Rep. 10.614b2, where he introduces the myth of Er, saying it will not be an “Ἀλκίνου γε ἀπόλογον.” See Chapter 4, Socrates’ Apologoi for a treatment of this citation.

121

94 Before Odysseus begins his story, he praises the pleasures of eating and drinking – the lines that Plato includes in his quotation. As is the case in Rep. 3.389d2-3 above, the significance in this quotation lies more in what is not quoted that what is quoted. Naturally Socrates would not want young people to memorize lines that praise the pleasures of eating and drinking, if part of the function of poetry in his view is to inspire the virtue of moderation. But what he is, in fact, intent on not quoting is anything whatsoever about the pleasure of the bards’ art. Accordingly, he begins his quotation immediately after Odysseus has offered his praise of poetic performance in general: Verily this is a good thing, to listen to a minstrel such as this man is, like the gods in voice. For I myself declare that there is no greater fulfillment of delight than when joy possesses a whole people, and banqueters in the halls listen to a minstrel as they sit in order due. Note also that preceding this section, at Od. 8.474-91, Odysseus treats the bard Demodocus with extraordinary respect, offering him the choicest part of the roast, as one would do with a distinguished war hero: Then to the herald said Odysseus of many wiles, cutting off a portion of the chine of a white-tusked boar, whereof yet more was left, and there was rich fat on either side: ‘Herald, take and give this portion to Demodocus, that he may eat, and I will greet him, despite my grief. For among all men that are upon the earth minstrels win honor and reverence, for that the Muse has taught them the paths of song, and loves the tribe of minstrels ... Demodocus, verily above all mortal men do I praise you, whether it was the Muse, the daughter of Zeus, that taught you, or Apollo; for well and truly do you sing of the fate of the Achaeans, all that they wrought and suffered, and all the toils they endured, as though perchance you had yourself been present, or had heard the tale from another.

95 Here is where the irony of Socrates’ proposed censorship bears itself out: he feigns censorship of a passage on the pleasure of eating and drinking – in the process actually preserving it; what he actually censors is a passage on the pleasure of poetry and the bard’s song.

Original Context Plato Rep. 3.390a8-b2 Τί δέ; ποιεῖν ἄνδρα τὸν σοφώτατον λέγοντα ὡς δοκεῖ αὐτῷ κάλλιστον εἶναι πάντων, ὅταν-[παρὰ πλεῖαι ὦσι τράπεζαι σίτου καὶ κρειῶν, μέθυ δ’ ἐκ κρητῆρος ἀφύσσων οἰνοχόος φορέῃσι καὶ ἐγχείῃ δεπάεσσι,]

10 b

[Socrates:] “What about making the wisest man say that the finest thing of all is when [The tables are laden With bread and meat, and the cup-bearer Draws wine from the mixing bowl and bears it round and pours it in the cups.] Homer Od. 9.1-11 τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς· “Ἀλκίνοε κρεῖον, πάντων ἀριδείκετε λαῶν, ἦ τοι μὲν τόδε καλὸν ἀκουέμεν ἐστὶν ἀοιδοῦ τοιοῦδ’ οἷος ὅδ’ ἐστί, θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιος αὐδήν. οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γέ τί φημι τέλος χαριέστερον εἶναι ἢ ὅτ’ ἐυφροσύνη μὲν ἔχῃ κάτα δῆμον ἅπαντα, δαιτυμόνες δ’ ἀνὰ δώματ’ ἀκουάζωνται ἀοιδοῦ ἥμενοι ἑξείης, [παρὰ δὲ πλήθωσι τράπεζαι σίτου καὶ κρειῶν, μέθυ δ’ ἐκ κρητῆρος ἀφύσσων οἰνοχόος φορέῃσι καὶ ἐγχείῃ δεπάεσσι·] τοῦτό τί μοι κάλλιστον ἐνὶ φρεσὶν εἴδεται εἶναι.

5

10

Then Odysseus, of many wiles, answered him, and said: “Lord Alcinous, renowned above all men, verily this is a good thing, to listen to a minstrel such as this man is, like the gods in voice. For I myself declare that there is no greater fulfillment of delight than when joy possesses a whole people, and banqueters in the halls listen to a minstrel as they sit in order due, [and by them tables are laden with bread and meat, and the cup-bearer draws wine from the mixing bowl and bears it round and pours it into the cups.] This seems to my mind the fairest thing there is.

96 Texts Plato Rep. 3.390a8-b2 Τί δέ; ποιεῖν ἄνδρα τὸν σοφώτατον λέγοντα ὡς δοκεῖ αὐτῷ κάλλιστον εἶναι πάντων, ὅταν-[παρὰ πλεῖαι ὦσι τράπεζαι σίτου καὶ κρειῶν, μέθυ δ’ ἐκ κρητῆρος ἀφύσσων οἰνοχόος φορέῃσι καὶ ἐγχείῃ δεπάεσσι,]

10 b

a10 παρὰ πλεῖαι] παραπλεῖαι A F D M : περιπλεῖαι R Φ Mpc : παρὰ δὲ πλήθωσι Homerus et Lucian : παρὰ πλεῖαι Adam Homer Od. 9.1, 5-6, 9-10 τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς· ... οὐ γὰρ ἐγώ γέ τί φημι τέλος χαριέστερον εἶναι ἢ ... [παρὰ δὲ πλήθωσι τράπεζαι σίτου καὶ κρειῶν, μέθυ δ’ ἐκ κρητῆρος ἀφύσσων οἰνοχόος φορέῃσι καὶ ἐγχείῃ δεπάεσσι·]

1 5

10

Textual Differences Paraphrase 1 As Labarbe points out, before Socrates begins his quotation proper, he paraphrases Od. 9.5 quite freely: “Sa transposition est très libre.”122 1) σοφώτατον (a8) : πολύμητις (1) [Parodic Substitution] Socrates does not indicate which character’s words he is referring to in the following Homeric quotation. Instead he refers to him indirectly as, “the wisest man” (ἄνδρα τὸν σοφώτατον, a8). In Homer, the words are said not so much by a wise man – in the philosophic sense of σοφός at least – but by a wily one, Odysseus πολύμητις, as he is referred to at Od. 9.1. Plato, then, not 122

Labarbe 1949, 292.

97 only changes a traditional poetic epithet, but I argue that he does so in exaggerated fashion to point out the irony that such a wise man, as depicted by Homer at least, would in fact utter such a foolish statement. While it seems clear that σοφώτατον is referring to Odysseus, in the context of the passage in Plato it could also refer to Homer himself. If this were the case, Plato could also be playing with the ambiguity of the word σοφός, as he will do so often with poetic terms which have a vastly changed meaning in philosophy or prose in general. As Dover points out, σοφός applied to a poet means one thing, to a philosopher quite another.123 Down to the late 5th century, σοφία means artistic or technical skill, especially that of the poet. It was not until later, especially in the writings of the philosophers, that σοφία means “intelligence” or “wisdom,” in terms of knowing how to live and behave properly. At any rate, taking σοφώτατον to refer to Homer rather than Odysseus, allows Plato to play with the ambiguity of the term. How could the “most skilled” writer at the same time have so little in the way of “wisdom”?

2) κάλλιστον (a9) : οὐ ... τί ... χαριέστερον ... ἢ (5-6) [Parodic Substitution] Here Plato’s Socrates replaces Homer’s negative comparative, “there is no greater fulfillment of delight than” (5-6), with an affirmative statement, “the finest thing of all is when,” using an adjective in the superlative degree. Not only does Socrates strengthen the form of Homer’s thought considerably, thus distorting the extent to which eating and drinking are valued in

123

Dover [1974] 1994, 119-23. Plato also uses the ambiguity of τέλος to his advantage. In the sense in which it is used in Homer at Od. 9.5, τέλος implies “realisation” or “consummation”(cf. Merry 1886, ad loc.). In its philosophic sense, however, τέλος means, like the Latin finis bonorum, “chief good.” By default, then, by putting Homer’s words in a philosophic context, Plato changes the original sentiment in subtle ways that serve to strengthen the force of his criticism.

98 Homer,124 but he even changes the vocabulary of the original. In Homer there is only mention in general of the pleasure or “charming” (χαρίεις) nature of eating or drinking. The pleasures of food and drink are never given an explicit moral value,125 as they are in Plato with the superlative “finest” (κάλλιστον, a9). In stating Homer’s (or is it Odysseus’?) own case more emphatically and, in fact, differently than does Homer himself, Plato already begins to strengthen his criticism of Homer by (unfairly) reshaping the bard’s thoughts. As noted above in Interpretive Context, Socrates goes on to skip Od. 9.6-7 and the first half of 8, lines that deal directly with the gaiety of the feast and the recitations of the bard, thus making his implied censorship all the more clear. Labarbe thoroughly misses the point of this omission, however, writing: “[les vers] contenaient donc rien qui péchât directement contre les principes de tempérance édictés par Socrate.”126 If anything, poetry is the sin against moderation, at least insofar as the Republic and its ideal educational system is concerned. Quotation 4 1) παρὰ πλεῖαι (παραπλεῖαι A D F M / περιπλεῖαι R Φ Mpc) ὦσι(a10) : παρὰ δὲ πλήθωσι (8) [Legitimate Variant and/or Parody/Burlesque] [Modern Editorial Error] As in Quotation 3 above, the reading accepted in modern editions, παρὰ πλεῖαι, is a modern conjecture, albeit one that relies on superficial changes to the accent and spacing of the reading

124

See Chapter 3 on Diet and Medicine. Naturally καλός can merely refer to the outward beauty of a thing. It is likely, however, that Plato is playing somewhat with the ambiguity of the term. He may even be using it ironically, a not infrequent use of καλός as the LSJ reports. 126 Labarbe 1949, 292. 125

99 of MSS. A D F M: παραπλεῖαι. The other manuscript reading we will consider below is περιπλεῖαι, the reading of several manuscripts that are ultimately derived from A: R Φ Mpc.127 Besides featuring alternate manuscript readings, this passage is further complicated in Plato in that both the modern conjecture and all of the ancient readings do not agree with our Homeric text. Furthermore, the modern conjecture and ancient readings all have potential difficulties in regard to their scansion. Finally, the reading of A D F M, παραπλεῖαι, is a hapax legomenon, the meaning of which is not entirely clear. The first thing to consider, then, is whether or not we must accept James Adam’s conjecture: παρὰ πλεῖαι. Adam rejects the manuscript reading παραπλεῖαι,128 and thus arrives at his emendation παρὰ πλεῖαι, on two separate grounds: firstly, he considers the meaning of the MSS. reading παραπλεῖαι “almost full” to involve a “ridiculous bathos” that he views as unacceptable.129 As Adam himself puts it: “Why should Odysseus have said it was the most beautiful thing in the world (κάλλιστον πάντων) when the tables are nearly full of bread and meat? Surely it is an even more beautiful spectacle when they are quite full!” Secondly, Adam desires to reconstruct a text of Plato’s Homer that preserves the original, Homeric intervention of a δὲ between the preposition παρὰ and the adjective πλεῖαι (in Plato) or πλήθωσι (in Homer).

127

See Boter (1989, xvii) for the stemma of the A-Family of manuscripts. In general I accept Boter’s conclusion that R Φ Mpc ultimately derive from A. On R, see Boter (1989, 53, 165-8), including his (previously) controversial position that R derives directly from Lobc., back to A, through T, a position first argued by Schneider (1830-3, 3:310 and in his note ad 540c4). On M as deriving from A, see Boter (1989, 28), though Burnet ([1905] 1958) argues that M is a primary witness. Chambry (1949, cxliii) argues that M is not a primary witness, but rather is contaminated from A and F. For more on M, confirming the strength of his position, see also Boter (1989, 111, 113-8, 120-3, 225-31). 128 Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. 129 Adam [1902] 2010, 349. See also Labarbe (1949, 293), who writes that παραπλεῖαι weakens the thought in a way that is not at all justified (afflaiblissement de la pensée qui ne se justifie en aucune maniere) given the original context of the passage in Odyssey.

100 Thus, Adam imagines Plato’s Homer to read παρὰ δὲ πλεῖαι ὦσι τράπεζαι to match Homer’s παρὰ δὲ πλήθωσι τράπεζαι. The δὲ, as Labarbe argues as well,130 would have dropped out of Plato’s quotation, as Plato’s ὅταν, introducing the quotation, renderes it unnecessary.131 We are to assume in the end, as Labarbe does, then – though Adam does not spell out his position with any clarity – that we are to take his παρὰ not as the beginning of a compound adjective but as a prefix separated off – as they so often are in Homer – from the main verb ὦσι.132 Thus, with Adam’s new reading, we are relieved of the line’s “bathos,” as it now reads “whenever the tables are at hand, full / of bread and meat ...” While Labarbe agrees with Adam’s emendation,133 as have all modern editors of Plato for more than one hundred years, this emendation is weak at several points and ultimately is not to be preferred to the original reading of MSS. A D F M. As Adam himself admits, despite his emendation, the line still does not scan properly. This is not necessarily a problem, of course; such scansion “problems” are quite common, as we have noted already, especially at the beginning of poetic quotations in Plato when the words of the quotation are still integrated into the prose style of the speaker.134 At any rate, Adam attempts to resolve the scansion problem

130

Labarbe 1949, 293. Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) cites Anacreon (94.1 [Bergk], κρητῆρι παρὰ πλέῳ οἰνοποτάζων) to support his separation of παραπλεῖαι. The use of παρὰ in Anacreon, however, is a poor precedent to use as it is used as a preposition taking the dative case, rather than as a prefix of a verb. 132 Such so-called tmesis is certainly possible in Homer and common, though Labarbe cites Socrates’ address to the Muses from Phaedrus 237a9, which includes the tmesis ξύμ μοι λάβεσθε to support Adam here. I say “so-called tmesis” as it is commonly accepted that tmesis strictly speaking does not occur in Homer as Smyth ([1920] 1980, §1650) explains, “in the Epic the prep.-adv. was still in the process of joining with the verb.” 133 Labarbe 1949, 293. 134 On this point, see, e.g., Quotation 1. 131

101 anyway by taking the iota in πλεῖαι as a semi-vowel.135 Such a reading, however, is not in accord with the scansion of πλεῖαι in Homer; in all other instances, it scans as a spondee.136 Foreseeing this problem, Adam proposes emending πλεῖαι yet further to read πλεαι. The mistake here is obvious, however, as πλεαι is simply not an epic form of the adjective (and is supported nowhere in the manuscript tradition). Already, we can see clearly the mistake modern editors like Adam make in expecting greater metrical precision in Plato’s poetic quotations than is, in fact, his habit. The simpler solution to the metrical problem here at any rate – assuming that there is in fact a problem – is to take παραπλεῖαι as it appears in A F D M, as a single word, and assume that Plato’s Homer would have had a δὲ following παραπλεῖαι as follows. This, at least, is the only reconstructed reading that does not have the metrical problems in Homer that Adam’s does:

_

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ | | X ˘ ˘ | ˘ ˘| ˘ ˘| ἥμενοι | ἑξεί|ης, παρα|πλεῖαι | δ’ ὦσι τρά|πεζαι

Besides an excessive, misguided focus on meter, the primary weaknesses of Adam’s conjecture are that he assumes that Plato’s “bathos” is unintended and he accepts the LSJ’s definition for παραπλεῖαι to mean “nearly full” at face value. As for Plato’s “intentions” we can only speculate. But it is possible, at least, that he may have allowed Socrates some playful license here with Homer’s original, to quote the line in such a way that it would appear somewhat silly, a mockery perhaps of the Sophists’ misuse of Homer, or perhaps more likely the intelligence or moral values of Odysseus, whom he has just referred to as “the wisest man.” It may be,

135 136

On semi-vowels, see Smyth ([1920] 1980, §148d). Cf. Il. 2.226; 9.71.

102 however, that the meaning that the LSJ assigns to παραπλεῖαι is incorrect. The meaning of παραπλεῖαι, despite the ordinary words that make it up, is still somewhat problematic, not in that least as it is a genuine hapax; its meaning, then, can only be derived from this very passage or from analogy with other adjective compounds that employ the prefix παρά. In many παρά-compounds, παρά does add the meaning “nearly” to the root word, for example, as Labarbe cites,137 παράγυμνος “nearly naked” and παραπλήσιος “nearly resembling.” But this is hardly the only meaning for παρά in compounds. παρά also frequently takes the meaning “beyond” even “in addition to” or “in excess”; see, for example, παραθερμαίνω “to heat to excess,” παραθέω “to run beyond, outrun, run past,” παραδηδάω “to spring beyond,” et al. Particularly instructive for our purposes above with its reference to food, consider παρατύω “to season by additions.” Thus, the error or awkwardness of παραπλεῖαι does not necessarily exist at all. A potential meaning for παραπλεῖαι, then – if the goal is consistency, or at least the avoidance of “bathos” – ought to be “beyond the point of fullness.” Or “extremely full.” Reading the original quotation, then, we get “What about making the wisest man say that the finest thing of all is when ‘the tables are extremely full with bread and meat ...’” When all is said and done, παραπλεῖαι remains a troublesome reading. Indeed, Adam is not the only editor to have attempted to correct it. As noted above and in the apparatus criticus, παραπλεῖαι is seemingly corrected in three manuscripts from the A family, R Φ Mpc – with the correction likely originating with R – to περιπλεῖαι.138 περιπλεῖαι was perhaps introduced by 137

Labarbe 1949, 293. On Φ, see Boter (1989, 61), where he argues that Φ derives from R in books I-VI, γ in books VII-IX, and c in book X; his conclusion seems to be confirmed here as Φ follows R directly here. On M, see Boter (1989, 122-3), especially his opinion on the previously misidentified 138

103 the scribe of R as a way to avoid the very “bathos” to which Adam reacts. The prefix περί, after all, is more commonly (and more naturally) used in compounds in the sense of “in excess” or “very” as compared to παρά.139 The problem with περιπλεῖαι, however, is that it is not a Homeric word. It appears in Thucydides, Xenophon, and the Greek Anthology, among other sources, but not Homer. In conclusion, then, the “correct” reading in this citation is difficult to determine with any certainty. Thus, the interpretation of the passage is also problematic.140 Adam’s conjecture fails on nearly every point. It adds greater clarity to the passage, but in so doing ignores the reading of the primary manuscripts and thus perhaps strives for a clarity that was not even intended in the original. Adam’s conjecture also introduces, or at least does not solve, the metrical problem which exists in the quotation (including as it would be reconstructed in Plato’s Homer). It is better, then, in the end to assume that παραπλεῖαι is the correct reading and that it was either a legitimate variant in Homer’s Plato or an invention of the author himself for the purpose of parody. Howes for his part argues that since the word is so uncommon, it is unlikely to have

secondhand of M, designated as Mpc: “M has been provided with variant readings and corrections; although the ink of these corrections and variant readings is usually a bit darker than the ink of the text, I believe that they have been written by the scribe himself, after copying the text, because the script is similar (I have inspected M in situ).” Jowett & Campbell (1894, 91) points out (and Boter agrees) that the corrections and variant readings in M are frequently in agreement with R (as is the case with περιπλεῖαι. Indeed, Boter (1989, 122) takes this position a step further: “confirmed by my collations ... it appears that the corrections and variant readings in M are never original, but always derive from other sources, i.c. R.” 139 Cf. LSJ ad loc. 140 Any interpretation, however, is perhaps better than that of Labarbe (1949, 292), who argues that Plato’s motivation behind citing these lines of Homer in the first place is to give his prose a poetic color (une couleur poétique) – something that could be said, of course, about every single quotation Plato uses throughout his corpus!

104 been the result of a scribal error or lapse of memory.141 Were παραπλεῖαι a legitimate variant, we can imagine that it would have been phased out of Homer’s text over time precisely because of its potential awkwardness, an awkwardness perhaps that Plato may have cited here on purpose to make his attack on Homer all the more complete and subtle. As above in Quotation 3, another modern editor – in this case Adam – very likely suggests an emendation that is not necessary and one that is hardly probable given that it runs contrary to all of the primary manuscripts.

Interpretation At any rate, whatever reading is correct, as Paul Shorey points out, “Plato’s treatment of the quotation is hardly fair to Homer.”142 Indeed, the observation that Plato is not fair to Homer is an observation that goes back to the scholiast ad loc.: “[Homer] says the end is pleasure not of life as a whole but only of some symposium” (οὐ παντὸς δὲ βίου τὴν ἡδονὴν τέλος εἴρηκεν ἀλλὰ συμποσίου τινός). Eustathius likewise comments on Plato’s use of Homer here saying that Odysseus is not attempting to present a life philosophy, but rather is only being gracious, agreeing with his host (cf. Od. 8.248). Thus, while Plato generally expects his readers to know the context from which his citations of Homer derive, he will nonetheless ignore the literary or cultural function of this context, in order to reinterpret Homer’s words as if they were arguing a philosophical position, rather than, say, developing a literary theme or reinforcing a cultural norm. This (mis)use of Homer allows Plato “to refute” a poetic passage, or at times to set it up for ridicule, at least when compared with philosophic ideals. Odysseus here, in terms of the

141

Howes 1895, 205. Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) calls Howes’ acceptance of παραπλεῖαι a vox nihili. 142 Shorey [1969] 1982, ad loc. See also Lucian (Parasite 10), which features a parodic treatment of this Homeric passage.

105 passage’s original literary function, is just being a good guest after all – he (or rather Homer) does not necessarily think that feasts are the finest activity for a human being to engage in; remember the language Plato uses to introduce the quotation in the first place is much stronger than that of Homer’s original. As we noted at the beginning of this chapter, part of the function of Homeric poetry is to preserve cultural norms, like xenia. For Plato, however, the concern for what is Good goes far beyond mere hospitality. But with only Homer’s mute text there to serve as a witness to Socrates’ elenchus, the poet is more or less defenseless. Unlike Thrasymachus, for example, Homer cannot answer for himself or explain his point of view. But Plato ignores the literary and cultural context of Homer’s text here not because he is an insensitive reader, as some scholars have maintained, or even simply because he wishes to attack poetry, but primarily because in the context of his own dialogue, his own argument, such statements as that of Odysseus, such high praise for (bodily) pleasures, cannot exist if we accept that the function of art is to educate. The point is that such statements as those of Odysseus taken out of their original context will inhibit any effort to inspire an individual or society to possess the virtue of moderation.

Allusion 2: Plato Rep. 10.620a6-7 : Homer Il. 2.594-600 Original Context Plato Rep. 10.619e6-620a8 Ταύτην γὰρ δὴ ἔφη τὴν θέαν ἀξίαν εἶναι ἰδεῖν, ὡς ἕκασται αἱ ψυχαὶ ᾑροῦντο τοὺς βίους· ἐλεινήν τε γὰρ ἰδεῖν εἶναι καὶ γελοίαν καὶ θαυμασίαν. κατὰ συνήθειαν γὰρ τοῦ προτέρου βίου τὰ πολλὰ αἱρεῖσθαι. ἰδεῖν μὲν γὰρ ψυχὴν ἔφη τήν ποτε Ὀρφέως γενομένην κύκνου βίον αἱρουμένην, μίσει τοῦ

360

106 γυναικείου γένους διὰ τὸν ὑπ᾽ ἐκείνων θάνατον οὐκ ἐθέλουσαν ἐν γυναικὶ γεννηθεῖσαν γενέσθαι· ἰδεῖν δὲ τὴν Θαμύρου ἀηδόνος ἑλομένην· ἰδεῖν δὲ καὶ κύκνον μεταβάλλοντα εἰς ἀνθρωπίνου βίου αἵρεσιν, καὶ ἄλλα ζῷα μουσικὰ ὡσαύτως.

5

[Socrates:] “Er said that the way in which the souls chose their lives was a sight worth seeing, since it was pitiful, funny, and surprising to watch. For the most part, their choice depended on the character of their former life. For example, he said that he saw the soul that had once belonged to Orpheus choosing a swan’s life, because he hated the female sex because of his death at their hands, and so was unwilling to have a woman conceive and give birth to him. Er saw the soul of Thamyris choosing the life of a nightingale, a swan choosing to change over to a human life, and other musical animals doing the same thing. Homer Il. 2.591-602 οἳ δὲ Πύλον τ᾽ ἐνέμοντο καὶ Ἀρήνην ἐρατεινὴν καὶ Θρύον Ἀλφειοῖο πόρον καὶ ἐΰκτιτον Αἰπὺ καὶ Κυπαρισσήεντα καὶ Ἀμφιγένειαν ἔναιον καὶ Πτελεὸν καὶ Ἕλος καὶ Δώριον, ἔνθά τε Μοῦσαι ἀντόμεναι Θάμυριν τὸν Θρήϊκα παῦσαν ἀοιδῆς Οἰχαλίηθεν ἰόντα παρ᾽ Εὐρύτου Οἰχαλιῆος· στεῦτο γὰρ εὐχόμενος νικησέμεν εἴ περ ἂν αὐταὶ Μοῦσαι ἀείδοιεν κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο· αἳ δὲ χολωσάμεναι πηρὸν θέσαν, αὐτὰρ ἀοιδὴν θεσπεσίην ἀφέλοντο καὶ ἐκλέλαθον κιθαριστύν· τῶν αὖθ᾽ ἡγεμόνευε Γερήνιος ἱππότα Νέστωρ· τῷ δ᾽ ἐνενήκοντα γλαφυραὶ νέες ἐστιχόωντο.

595

600

And they that dwelt in Pylos and lovely Arene and Thryum, the ford of Alpheius, and fairfounded Aepy, and that had their abodes in Cyparisseïs and Amphigeneia and Pteleos and Helus and Dorium, where the Muses met Thamyris the Thracian and made an end of his singing, even as he was journeying from Oechalia, from the house of Eurytus the Oechalian: for he vaunted with boasting that he would conquer, were the Muses themselves to sing against him, the daughters of Zeus that bear the aegis; but they in their wrath maimed him, and took from him his wondrous song [ἀοιδὴν θεσπεσίην, 599-600], and made him forget his minstrelsy [ἐκλέλαθον κιθαριστύν];—all these folk again had as leader the horseman, Nestor of Gerenia. And with him were ranged ninety hollow ships. Interpretation At the very end of the Republic, Plato imagines, appropriately enough given his dismantling of the canon of traditional Greek poetry, the two most renowned singers of Greek myth, Thamyris

107 and Orpheus,143 in the underworld. At this point in Republic 10, Socrates has just finished discussing the earthly awards which are available to those who live a just life (Rep. 10.612a8614a4). Socrates argues that such rewards pale in comparison to those which await the just in the afterlife. Having reached the limits of logical discourse, Socrates tells the Myth of Er at Rep. 10.614a5-621d3, which treats both the rewards and the punishments that await man in the afterlife and the idea of reincarnation. In the section in which the allusion above occurs, Orpheus and Thamyris are listed first among those who await their choice of a new life.144 Given the fact that Plato has worked to revise poetry throughout the course of the Republic so that it is both an efficacious educational tool and in line with the aims of philosophy, it is fitting that the penultimate act of the Republic involves the cleansing, via rebirth, of the two most famous poets of Greek mythology. Both poets are transformed into birds, Orpheus a swan, Thamyris a nightingale, a bird whose song Socrates argues at Phaedo 84d-85b is full of joy and good hope, despite the fact that most people view it as sorrowful: Really, Simmias, it would be hard for me to persuade other people that I do not consider my present fate a misfortune if I cannot persuade even you ... you seem to think me inferior to the swans in prophecy. They sing before too, but when they realize that they must die they sing most and most beautifully, as they rejoice that they are about to depart and join the god whose servants they are. But men, because of their own fear of death, tell lies [καταψεύδονται, a4] about the swans and say that they lament their death and sing in sorrow. They do not reflect that no bird sings when it is hungry or cold or suffers in any other way, neither the nightingale nor the swallow nor the hoopoe ... nor do the swans, but I believe that as they belong to Apollo, they are prophetic, have knowledge of 143

Thamyris and Orpheus are also treated together at lon 533c and Laws 8.829e in the context of censorship. At Ap. 41a, Socrates lists Orpheus as one of the poets he expects to meet in Hades. Socrates discusses Orpheus’ descent to Hades and his attempted rescue of his wife Eurydice at Symp. 179d. On Thamyris’ contest with the Muses, see also Euripides (Rhes. 924). 144 On “habits of their former lives,” see Phaedo 81e ff., Phaedr. 248-249, Tim. 42a-d, 91d ff. For the idea of reincarnation in Plato, see Shorey (1933, 529). See N. White (1979, 264-5) for an explanation of how this view of reincarnation informs Plato’s view that virtue should be pursued for its own sake, whereas vice is a punishment in itself.

108 the future and sing of the blessings of the underworld, sing and rejoice on that day beyond what they did before. As I believe myself to be a fellow servant with the swans and dedicated to the same god, and have received from my master a gift of prophecy not inferior to theirs, I am no more despondent than they on leaving life. Thus, in the same way that Socrates reinterprets the song of the swan and nightingale, and of birds in general, in positive terms, he also treats the myth of Thamyris in a way vastly more positively than Homer does. While Homer does not discuss Orpheus, his handling of Thamyris is the first attested in Greek literature. In the same way that Plato mentions Thamyris as he “catalogues” the dead in the Myth of Er, Homer weaves the story of Thamyris, one of the followers of Nestor, into his “Catalogue of Ships” from the Iliad. We learn that Thamyris lost his voice and memory in punishment for having boasted that he could defeat the Muses in a contest of song. Thus, while in Homer Thamyris’ song brings him to ruin, in Plato this myth is reinterpreted. Thamyrisis not punished. He becomes a bird who serves the god of poetry, Apollo. As in Homer, however, in Plato the poet still loses his (human) voice and in the process of reincarnation will also lose his memory. The Orpheus myth works similarly. While in traditional Greek mythology Orpheus laments over his wife’s death in song to the extent that he, like Thamyris, brings himself to ruin, in Plato he is made to sing as a swan his most beautiful and joyous song at the moment of death. Having been murdered by women, Orpheus also chooses the life of a swan due to his hatred of women, as the ancient Greeks regarded swans to be an exclusively male species.145 Thus, in the same way that Plato reinterprets or revises poetry in the Republic in such a way that it is rehabilitated, acceptable in Socrates’ ideal polis, Orpheus and Thamyris are rehabilitated, or 145

For more on swans in antiquity, see Arnott (1977, 149-53) and Gallop (2003, 313-32).

109 rather reincarnated, into animals that make only joyful, life-affirming music in the face to death; in Plato, then, Thamyris and Orpheus, like their kindred spirit Socrates, make music that foretells the potential blessings which await one in death, thus working against the traditional myths of the poets which create only an irrational fear of death.

Allusion 3: Plato Rep. 10.620b7-c2 : Homer Il. 23.493; 839; Od. 8.493 (Cf. Allusions 15 & 19) Interpretive Context In Plato, Epeius appears at Rep. 10.620c1 in the Myth of Er; in Homer, Epeius is mentioned by name three times: he is mentioned immediately before the Homeric passage treated above in Quotation 4, when Odysseus requests that the Phaeacian bard Demodocus sing the tale of the Trojan horse, “which Epeius made with Athene’s help” (Od. 8.493); he is mentioned twice in Iliad 23, lines 665 and 839, in reference to his status as a specialist or expert. The mention of Epeius in the Republic, then, allows Plato to bring to a close effectively several important themes that he had developed earlier in respect to his critique of poetry, namely the (mis)use of lies in traditional poetry and the problem of expertises in general, but especially as it applies to the idea of considering poets as skilled, masters of a craft.146 Original Context

146

Outside of the Republic, see Phaedrus 245a where, even while granting the possibility of expert knowledge in poetry, Socrates argues that such an expert poet’s writings would fall far short of those who are subject to the “Muses’ madness” and “who have been driven out of their minds.” Compare also the Ion in general, esp. 533d-e and 536c.

110 Plato Rep. 620b7-c2 μετὰ δὲ ταύτην ἰδεῖν τὴν Ἐπειοῦ τοῦ Πανοπέως εἰς τεχνικῆς γυναικὸς ἰοῦσαν φύσιν·

c

After [Atalanta], he said, he saw the soul of Epeius, the son of Panopeus, entering into the nature of an arts and crafts woman. Homer Il. 23.664-671 ὣς ἔφατ᾽, ὄρνυτο δ᾽ αὐτίκ᾽ ἀνὴρ ἠΰς τε μέγας τε εἰδὼς πυγμαχίης υἱὸς Πανοπῆος Ἐπειός, ἅψατο δ᾽ ἡμιόνου ταλαεργοῦ φώνησέν τε· ἆσσον ἴτω ὅς τις δέπας οἴσεται ἀμφικύπελλον· ἡμίονον δ᾽ οὔ φημί τιν᾽ ἀξέμεν ἄλλον Ἀχαιῶν πυγμῇ νικήσαντ᾽, ἐπεὶ εὔχομαι εἶναι ἄριστος. ἦ οὐχ ἅλις ὅττι μάχης ἐπιδεύομαι; οὐδ᾽ ἄρα πως ἦν ἐν πάντεσσ᾽ ἔργοισι δαήμονα φῶτα γενέσθαι.

665

670

So he spoke, and forthwith uprose a man valiant and tall, well-skilled in boxing, even Epeius, son of Panopeus; and he laid hold of the sturdy mule, and spoke, saying: “Let him draw near, whoever is to bear as his prize the two-handled cup: the mule I deem that none other of the Achaeans shall lead away, by worsting me with his fists, for I avow me to be the best man [ἄριστος, 669]. Is it not enough that I fall short in battle? One may not, to me at any rate, prove himself to be a man of skill [δαήμονα] in every work. Homer Il. 23.839-840 ἑξείης δ᾽ ἵσταντο, σόλον δ᾽ ἕλε δῖος Ἐπειός, ἧκε δὲ δινήσας· γέλασαν δ᾽ ἐπὶ πάντες Ἀχαιοί.

840

Then they took their places in order, and divine Epeius grasped the discus, and whirled and flung it; and all the Achaeans laughed aloud at his attempt. Homer Od. 485-499 αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο, δὴ τότε Δημόδοκον προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς· “Δημόδοκ᾽, ἔξοχα δή σε βροτῶν αἰνίζομ᾽ ἁπάντων. ἢ σέ γε μοῦς᾽ ἐδίδαξε, Διὸς πάϊς, ἢ σέ γ᾽ Ἀπόλλων· λίην γὰρ κατὰ κόσμον Ἀχαιῶν οἶτον ἀείδεις, ὅσς᾽ ἔρξαν τ᾽ ἔπαθόν τε καὶ ὅσς᾽ ἐμόγησαν Ἀχαιοί, ὥς τέ που ἢ αὐτὸς παρεὼν ἢ ἄλλου ἀκούσας. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε δὴ μετάβηθι καὶ ἵππου κόσμον ἄεισον δουρατέου, τὸν Ἐπειὸς ἐποίησεν σὺν Ἀθήνῃ, ὅν ποτ᾽ ἐς ἀκρόπολιν δόλον ἤγαγε δῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς

485

490

111 ἀνδρῶν ἐμπλήσας οἵ ῥ᾽ Ἴλιον ἐξαλάπαξαν. αἴ κεν δή μοι ταῦτα κατὰ μοῖραν καταλέξῃς, αὐτίκ᾽ ἐγὼ πᾶσιν μυθήσομαι ἀνθρώποισιν, ὡς ἄρα τοι πρόφρων θεὸς ὤπασε θέσπιν ἀοιδήν.” ὣς φάθ᾽, ὁ δ᾽ ὁρμηθεὶς θεοῦ ἤρχετο, φαῖνε δ᾽ ἀοιδήν,

495

But when they had put from them the desire of food and drink, then to Demodocus said Odysseus of many wiles: “Demodocus, verily above all mortal men do I praise you, whether it was the Muse, the daughter of Zeus, that taught you, or Apollo; for well and truly do you sing of the fate of the Achaeans, all that they wrought and suffered, and all the toils they endured, as though by change you had been present there yourself, or had heard the tale from another. But come now, change your theme, and sing of the building of the horse of wood, which Epeius made with Athena’s help, the horse which once divine Odysseus led up into the citadel as a thing of guile [δόλον, 494], when he had filled it with the men who sacked Ilios. If you do indeed tell me [καταλέξῃς, 496] this tale aright [κατὰ μοῖραν, 496], I will declare to all mankind that the god has of a ready heart granted you the gift of divine song [θέσπιν ἀοιδήν, 498].” So he spoke, and the minstrel, moved by the god, began, and let his song be heard ... Interpretation In the Republic, Plato is most interested in Epeius’ reputation as a great craftsman. In the Ion at 533b1, Plato mentions Epeius as well, there alongside Daedalus as another paradigmatic craftsman. At Rep. 10.620c1-2, in the Myth of Er, Epeius is reincarnated as a “craftswoman” (τεχνικῆς γυναικὸς, Rep. 10.620c1-2), trading his gender just as Atalanta immediately before him, perhaps in deference to the honor in which his divine counterpart, Athene, was held in craft.147 Plato may also cite Epeius here in reference to his unusual designation as an expert in Homer, something that sets him apart – in Homer – in a negative way from the other heroes. He is mocked at Il. 23.835, for example, for his poor attempt at throwing the discus. And while Epeius himself takes pride in his expertise as a boxer (cf. Il. 23.664 ff.), it is little solace for him given his inadequacy on the battlefield: “Is it not enough that I fall short in battle?” (670). Then,

147

To this point, all reincarnations in the Myth of Er have involved a change of gender or change of species. For more on the significance of these switches in gender, see M. Parker (2006, esp. 22 ff.). Odysseus at the end of the myth is the only figure who will violate this pattern.

112 in words that form nearly a perfect characterization of Plato’s own views on expertise, Epeius continues in lines 670-671: “One may not, to me at any rate, prove himself to be a man of skill in every work.” As Plato would have it, since not everyone can be a master of all, each person ought to focus on what he does best. In Plato’s way of thinking, such an arrangement is best both for the individual and for society as a whole. Plato later develops this idea in more rigid form in the Statesman, where statecraft is explicitly defined as an expertise that involves governing and coordinating the work of all of the other experts in the city, namely the cobblers, generals, navigators, and so on. Whereas the expert in Homer is mocked, his status in Plato is thoroughly rehabilitated, both literally and figuratively – as we shall see with many of the figures Plato treats in the myth of Er – as Epeius becomes a maker of crafts once again in his new life, proof that his occupation in his previous life was well-suited to the nature of his soul.

3. Poetry’s False Imitation of Justice

ἡ γὰρ δίκη πολιτικῆς κοινωνίας τάξις ἐστίν (Aristotle Pol. 1253a35) Justice is the ordering of the state.

Quotation 5: Plato Rep. 1.334b2-3 : Homer Od. 19.395-396 (Cf. Plato Rep. 1.331e3-4 : Simonides 642e PMG) Interpretive Context

113 At Rep. 1.331b ff, Socrates, with the compliance of his interlocutors, Cephalus and Polemarchus, examines the validity of the conventional definition of justice, namely that justice consists in speaking the truth (ἀλήθειαν, c2) and repaying one’s debts. Cephalus quickly abandons his support of this conventional view, when Socrates points out that it is not entirely consistent. As Socrates argues, while in general one ought to tell the truth and repay his debts, this is not the just course of action in all situations; for instance, in the case of insanity, repaying a debt (a seemingly just act) may in fact be the cause of injustice: Everyone would surely agree that if a sane [σωφρονοῦντος, c6] man lends weapons to a friend and then asks for them back when he is out of his mind, the friend shouldn’t return them, and wouldn’t be acting justly [δίκαιος, c7] if he did. Nor should anyone be willing to tell the whole truth [πάντα ... τἀληθῆ, c8-9] to someone who is out of his mind.148 Unlike Cephalus, his son, Polemarchus, is not so easily convinced by Socrates’ refutation. He wishes to discuss the point further. In so doing, Polemarchus shows slightly more sophistication than his father, yet still bases his argument on poetry, again committing the logical fallacy of argumentum ad verecundiam. Instead of attempting to find logical flaws in Socrates’ refutation, or revising the original definition of justice in light of Socrates’ refutation, Polemarchus simply urges Socrates that they should “trust” (πείθεσθαι, Rep. 1.331d5) the opinion of the poet Simonides, which is basically a restatement of (part of) the original definition of justice above: “it is just (δίκαιόν, e4) to give to each what is owed to him” (Rep. 1.331e3-4). We have to imagine that Polemarchus represents a very typical Greek attitude, namely a blind faith in the authority of the teaching of the poets, that Plato was intent on correcting

148

Rep. 1.331c5-9.

114 through philosophy.149 Polemarchus is content to accept a statement after all merely because it is, in his own words, “beautifully said” (καλῶς λέγειν, Rep. 1.331d4). For Polemarchus – and we can imagine for many Greeks – a beautiful expression was persuasive in and of itself. Polemarchus does not bother to consider whether Simonides’ opinion is actually true, whether it is in fact consistent, this sort of examination only comes about because Socrates intervenes. In effect, the dialogue between Socrates, Polemarchus, and Cephalus – the first passage in the Republic that contains a poetic reference that is actively discussed – sets the stage for much of the rest the dialogue.150 As Andrew Ford puts it, the “interpretation of poetry has provoked the main question of the Republic.”151 Naturally Socrates will have to confront conventional Greek attitudes about justice, but he does this by going to the source of the problem: the poets, or perhaps more appropriate the interpretation or use of the poets. In depicting the way that Polemarchus formulates his views on justice by appealing to poetic authority, Plato is able to dramatize the extent to which common views on nearly everything, including justice, originate from the poets. He is also able to show how easily (and incorrectly) one may base his judgments on the sophia of the poets. Thus, throughout the rest of the Republic, the words of poets will be treated as if they were intended to be philosophical positions, as pedagogical maxims or paradigms (certainly they were taken as such by many ordinary Greeks, like Polemarchus. Plato, 149

Cephalus is even more traditional in his approach than Polemarchus. Instead of continuing to argue with Socrates as Polemarchus does, he merely accepts Socrates’ refutation at face value, having achieved no real understanding. Warren (1897, lxviii), in my view correctly, views Polemarchus as representing a second stage of Greek ethical thought and morality, fitting in that he is the son of Cephalus, “the age of ‘gnomic’ or proverbial philosophy” yet still one which is basically pre-dialectical. 150 The first poetic quotation appears at Rep. 1.328e6 (cf. Proverbial Citation 1). It is worth noting that Cephalus, like Polemarchus, initially defends his views on the value of moneymaking not by giving a rational account but by quoting poetry, namely Pindar (cf. Rep. 1.331a69). 151 Ford 2002, 213.

115 then, will formulate, or at least contextualize, many of his philosophic arguments by using poetic passages, refuting them or revising them as is needed, and more importantly, in the process, teaching his interlocutors and broader audience that poetry can easily lead one astray if it is blindly accepted as the truth rather than (philosophically) examined and thoughtfully considered. Some poetry, in addition, must be censored altogether, as it is works against a harmonious and beneficial constitution of both the individual and the political state. In response to Polemarchus, Socrates demonstrates that Simonides has produced a thoroughly false definition of justice. With Polemarchus’ consent, Socrates reinterprets Simonides’ saying to mean that justice is helping one’s friends and harming one’s enemies (Rep. 1.332a-b). Still, Socrates feigns exasperation at the unclear way in which Simonides has formed his philosophic argument, complaining that “Simonides was speaking in riddles – just like a poet!” (Rep. 1.332b9-c1).152 So treating justice in a more systematic fashion as a “craft” (τέχνη, Rep. 1.332d2), whose matter of expertise (formulated by Socrates in utterly conventional terms) is to help friends and harm enemies, Socrates forces Polemarchus into the absurd position that, given Simonides’ definition of justice, justice is in effect “useless” (ἄχρηστος, Rep. 1.332e11; 333d11). If that were not enough, Socrates then shows that according to Simonides’ definition of justice, a just man is “a kind of thief” (Rep. 1.334a10). Now Socrates’ method of argumentation and his refutations here are hardly convincing. Indeed, they are so rapid-fire as to leave both the reader’s and the interlocutor’s head spinning. Nicholas P. White perhaps phrases it best when he writes that the arguments Socrates formulates here are “too briskly framed to be

152

See Ford (2002, 213-4) on poetic riddles and the need for philosophic exegesis: “the problem with using poetic texts as guides to morality is that the words in themselves impose no limits on interpretation: it will be hard to make progress in a moral argument with a poet who can speak in riddles ... and use one word when he meant another.”

116 cogent” and that the main purpose of them is “to point to problems latent in treating justice in certain ordinary ways.”153 I would go a step further in saying that Socrates’ refutations are not particularly thorough because the main target of Socrates’ attack is not “Simonides’” definition of justice, but rather Polemarchus’ unquestioning acceptance of it and the use of poetry in general by those who do not interpret it with sufficient care or for the right (philosophic) ends. By framing his attack via an aggressive stichomythic mode of questioning, Socrates forces Polemarchus to defend his position, to begin to think it through, just as a philosopher would. Socrates, in effect, brings him away from a poetic mindset into a philosophic one. While we the readers get no closer to an actual, satisfactory definition of justice, we are shown the error, in definitive fashion, of holding or allowing ourselves to be convinced by an opinion (especially one deriving from poetry) that we have not thoroughly examined ourselves. In this way, Socrates also shows how easily our original ideas can be perverted and misunderstood, if we have not considered them carefully. Having shown the various ways in which Simonides’ views on justice can be (mis)interpreted, Socrates expands his target to the poet himself, Homer, far more responsible than Simonides for having formed conventional Greek views about such things as justice. Indeed, given Homer’s massive influence as “the educator of Hellas,” Socrates wonders if Polemarchus’ misunderstanding of justice did not originate with Homer rather than Simonides: “it is quite likely (κινδυνεύεις)154 that you learned this from Homer” (Rep. 1.334a11). Socrates

153

N. White 1979, 63-4. On Homer as “educator of Hellas,” see Rep. 10.606e2. See Benardete ([1991] 2009, 58) on the verb κινδυνεύειν: “Kinduneuein means literally ‘to run a risk’ or ‘be in danger,’ but most often it expresses a logical inference with a high degree of plausibility.” In this passage perhaps Plato plays with the ambiguity of the verb κινδυνεύειν: it is both likely and risky that 154

117 implicates Homer in Simonides’ misunderstanding of justice by pointing out at Rep. 1.334b the high regard in which Homer supposedly held Autolycus, whom he describes as “excelling all men in thievery [κλεπτοσύνῃ, b2-3] and in swearing oaths [θ’ ὅρκῳ, b3].”155 Based on this “evidence,” then, Socrates concludes at Rep. 1.334b3-5 that Homer must view justice as “some sort of craft of stealing, one that benefits friends and harms enemies.”156 Socrates is, of course, being somewhat playful here.157 As is typical of Socrates, however, his play has a seriousness of purpose. He has demonstrated in quite dramatic fashion the ease with which the meaning of poetic texts may be perverted and the danger of holding opinions that one has not considered carefully. Perhaps if Polemarchus had thought his position through, he could have defended himself from Socrates’ sudden onslaught, or at least kept him from misrepresenting his position so thoroughly. But as it is, Polemarchus cannot even recall what his point was in the first place: “I don’t know anymore what I did mean.” Polemarchus remains a difficult student. Despite Socrates’ harangue, he still believes he is correct. It takes Socrates’ introduction of the distinction between seeming and being for Polemarchus to begin to see the light, to define friends, for example, not as those who seem to be good and useful, but those who actually are. Thus, with this leap forward in the argument, Socrates will be able

Polemarchus has derived his opinion of this most important of matters, justice, directly from Homer. 155 In Homer’s text, this is Odysseus’ characterization of his maternal grandfather. The “swearing of oaths” is typically interpreted by translators to mean “lying,” that is to say, swearing false oaths. 156 See Hipp. Min. 365c ff. where this same view is developed in greater detail. See also the Euthyphro, where Socrates likewise argues against the conventional understanding of piety by reducing it to a kind of καπηλεία or “retail trade” in prayer and blessings. 157 On Socrates’ playfulness here, see Shorey ([1969] 1982, ad loc.): “The naïveté of Homer’s ‘amoral’ standpoint ... tickles Plato’s sense of humor, and he amuses himself by showing that the popular rule ‘help friends and harm enemies’ is on the same ethical plane.”

118 eventually to assert that justice, as a virtue, can never involve harming people, one of the key theses in the whole of the Republic. In the end, Socrates playfully acquits Homer at Rep. 1.336a5-7, saying that the idea that justice is benefitting friends and harming enemies must have come instead from Periander, Perdiccas, Xerxes, or Ismenias of Corinth, all notorious, and famously unjust (even by any ordinary or conventional definition of the term), tyrants and kings.158 Yet, to see how easily Socrates has linked the thought of clearly unjust men to the (respected) poets – the educators of Hellas – speaks volumes to the sort of negative effect he feels the poets can have on Greek society and mores, if they are not used properly. Further, Plato has demonstrated that not only do the poets inform conventional views, but their positions can be easily perverted or misunderstood. We can imagine that if a man like Polemarchus, a fairly average Greek citizen, who respects the sophia of the poets, who does not bother investigating fully the implications of the beliefs he so readily accepts, can be so easily misled by Socrates’ misinterpretation of poetry, that he would be quite an easy quarry for a Sophist like Gorgias or some other rhetorician, who, unlike Socrates, is interested not in the truth, but primarily in persuasion.159 The point Plato makes here is that poetry is ill-suited to educate people about such things as justice, if it is not

158

Plato may be making a broader point here about how easily it is to use Homer to support all manner of immoral activity. See Theaetetus 152e ff. where Plato playfully notes how all belief ultimately arises from Homer. As Mitscherling (2008, 284) points out, this definition of justice – or at least an approximation of it – appears in Homer at Od. 6.184–5, and then later in Solon (fr. 13 Bergk, line 5), and Sappho, fr. 5.5–8. 159 As Mitscherling (2008, 385) notes of this conventional Greek view of justice: “Yet that this conception was indeed quite popular – or even more, that it was the view most commonly held by fifth-century Athenians – would be difficult to dispute. The orators seem often to have relied for the persuasive force of their arguments upon the incontestability of such a view, and Plato’s Socrates himself seems to be implying some such view when, in the Apology, he speaks of the absurdity of his harming his companions.”

119 allied with philosophy. And while Socrates makes this point indirectly, ironically, and playfully, as is so often the case in Plato, Socrates’ play is quite serious. Finally, a note on the context of Homer’s mention of Autolycus: while Odysseus is on Ithaca, disguised as a beggar, Penelope interviews him.160 To conceal his true identity, Odysseus-beggar tells her an elaborate lie about his identity – forming the context of Quotation 1 above. It is only when Odysseus-beggar is bathed by his old nursemaid, Eurycleia, that his true identity is realized. Eurycleia notices the scar on Odysseus’ leg, the very one which he suffered while on a boar hunt with Autolycus, his “noble” (ἐσθλόν, Od. 8.395) maternal grandfather, “who excelled men in thievery and in swearing oaths” (Od. 8.396). Original Context Plato Rep. 1.334a10-b5 Κλέπτης ἄρα τις ὁ δίκαιος, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἀναπέφανται, καὶ κινδυνεύεις παρ’ Ὁμήρου μεμαθηκέναι αὐτό· καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖνος τὸν τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως πρὸς μητρὸς πάππον Αὐτόλυκον ἀγαπᾷ τε καί φησιν αὐτὸν [πάντας ἀνθρώπους κεκάσθαι κλεπτοσύνῃ θ’ ὅρκῳ τε.] ἔοικεν οὖν ἡ δικαιοσύνη καὶ κατὰ σὲ καὶ καθ’ Ὅμηρον καὶ κατὰ Σιμωνίδην κλεπτική τις εἶναι, ἐπ’ ὠφελίᾳ μέντοι τῶν φίλων καὶ ἐπὶ βλάβῃ τῶν ἐχθρῶν.

10 b

5

[Socrates:] “A just person [ὁ δίκαιος, a10] has turned out, then, it seems, to be a kind of thief. Maybe you learned this from Homer, for he’s fond of Autolycus, the maternal grandfather of Odysseus, whom he describes as [excelling all men in thievery [κλεπτοσύνῃ, b2-3] and in swearing oaths [θ’ ὅρκῳ, b3]. According to you, Homer, and Simonides, then, justice seems to be some sort of craft of stealing [κλεπτική, 4], one that benefits friends and harms enemies.” Homer Od. 19.392-398 νίζε δ’ ἄρ’ ἆσσον ἰοῦσα ἄναχθ’ ἑόν· αὐτίκα δ’ ἔγνω οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι Παρνησόνδ’ ἐλθόντα μετ’ Αὐτόλυκόν τε καὶ υἷας, μητρὸς ἑῆς πάτερ’ ἐσθλόν, ὃς [ἀνθρώπους ἐκέκαστο 160

395

Homer also mentions Autolycus at Il. 10.267 as the thief of the helmet that Odysseus now wears.

120 κλεπτοσύνῃ θ’ ὅρκῳ τε·] θεὸς δέ οἱ αὐτὸς ἔδωκεν Ἑρμείας· τῷ γὰρ κεχαρισμένα μηρία καῖεν ἀρνῶν ἠδ’ ἐρίφων· ὁ δέ οἱ πρόφρων ἅμ’ ὀπήδει. So she drew near and began to wash her lord, and straightway knew the scar of the wound which long ago a boar had dealt him with his white tusk, when Odysseus had gone to Parnassus to visit Autolycus and the sons of Autolycus, his mother’s noble father, who [excelled men in thievery [κλεπτοσύνῃ, 396] and in swearing oaths [ὅρκῳ, 396].] It was a god himself that had given him this skill, even Hermes, for to him he was wont to burn acceptable sacrifices of the thighs of lambs and kids; so Hermes befriended him with a ready heart. Texts Plato Rep. 1.334a11-b3 ... καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖνος τὸν τοῦ Ὀδυσσέως πρὸς μητρὸς πάππον Αὐτόλυκον ἀγαπᾷ τε καί φησιν αὐτὸν πάντας [ἀνθρώπους κεκάσθαι κλεπτοσύνῃ θ’ ὅρκῳ τε.]

b

b1 αὐτὸν πάντας]161 αὐτὸν ὑπὲρ πάντας F : αὐτὸν εἰς πάντας F2 Homer Od. 19.393-396 ... τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι Παρνησόνδ’ ἐλθόντα μετ’ Αὐτόλυκόν τε καὶ υἷας, μητρὸς ἑῆς πάτερ’ ἐσθλόν, ὃς [ἀνθρώπους ἐκέκαστο κλεπτοσύνῃ θ’ ὅρκῳ τε·]

395

396 θ’ ὅρκῳ] τε νόῳ V1 (s. xv) Textual Differences 1) πάντας (b2) [Invention] Labarbe notes that Plato’s insertion of πάντας makes the expression plus vigoreuse.162 Indeed, as is typical of Plato, he will often change a poetic text, or put it into its new philosophic context,

161

See Labarbe (1949, 269 n. 1), who points out the problems with F’s alternate readings, which betray a lack of understanding in respect to the ordinary working of the verb καίνυμαι. 162 Labarbe 1949, 269.

121 in such a way as to make a subtle change to its meaning.163 Here Plato makes Autolycus appear even more preeminent in his skill as a liar than originally in Homer.

2) κεκάσθαι (b2) : ἐκέκαστο (395) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience] The only difference in Plato’s text as compared to Homer’s is that Plato changes the verb καίνυμαι to the infinitive mood in order to accommodate his use of oratio obliqua. As noted above, this is typical of Plato’s handling of quotations.

3) θ’ ὅρκῳ (b3) : ὅρκῳ (τε νόῳ V1 (s. xv)) (396) [Variant Homeric Reading] Homer’s text contains a single alternate reading, but Plato’s text agrees with the majority of the Homeric MSS. here.164 Interpretation In this quotation Plato playfully dramatizes the absurdity and perhaps danger of deriving one’s beliefs from the poets without submitting them to any kind of critical reasoning.165 As the poets do not base their views on any real knowledge, when examined in a philosophical or dialectic context, they are easily shown to be inconsistent. At the very least, they prove themselves to be be easily misunderstood or misconstrued. Plato, then, misuses Homer here not only by ascribing to him a belief that is no where expressed explicitly in his poetry, namely that the just man is a kind of thief, but also by unfairly examining “Homer’s” views though he is not there to answer

163

We saw this especially in Paraphrase 1 above. See Labarbe (1949, 273-4) for an assessment of the alternate reading νόῳ. 165 See Nadaff (2002, 14) whose reading is similar to mine: “Simonides’ ethical wisdom ... must [be] submit[ted] ... to a literary.-philosophic exegesis of which the poet himself is incapable ... to discover the meaning, one must abandon the traditional role of an uncritical poetic spectator.” 164

122 for himself. Polemarchus alone is left to answer in Homer’s place. It is clear from Socrates’ questioning, however, that Polemarchus has not considered in a critical way the views he has adopted through memorizing poetry. Indeed, this is one of the inherent weaknesses of an educational system based on the traditional poetic texts in Plato’s view. While poetry is memorized in an uncritical way, philosophy is actively practiced. Unlike poetry, the truth is not asserted in philosophy, rather it is arrived at, or at least approximated, by means of rational discourse whereby the beliefs of both parties are carefully examined before any part of them is accepted (or rejected).166 Plato further misrepresents Homer – all again in the context of serious play, directed as much against Polemarchus’ naïveté as against the poetic worldview itself – by taking the language he uses in a philosophic sense rather than the poetic sense in which it was intended. As Adam points out, Plato can claim that Homer “esteems” (ἀγαπᾷ, Rep. 1.334b1) Autolycus – clearly a bit of an exaggeration – only because he refers to him with the epithet “noble” (ἐσθλόν).167 While Homer uses ἐσθλόν as a formulaic epithet that – at most – is used to describe the nobility of Autolycus’ birth, and not his character,168 Plato takes Homer’s use of ἐσθλόν literally, or perhaps we should say philosophically, to be a positive assessment on Homer’s part of Autolycus’ moral character. Homer’s “esteem” (ἀγαπᾷ) for Autolycus likely also derives from the divine favor that Autolycus enjoys. In the Homeric passage, Autolycus’ talent in thievery – that is to say, doing injustice – is god given; the trickster god Hermes grants him these abilities because of

166

As Plato’s Socrates will argue elsewhere, such reflection or examination is not possible for the poet himself either (cf. Ap. 22a-b and Ion 542a). 167 Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. 168 According to the LSJ, ἐσθλόν is also used in Homer to mean “brave,” “fortunate,” or “lucky.”

123 Autolycus’ “false” piety, his careful observance of the quid pro quo of archaic Greek religious ritual. Depicting the rewards of injustice in this way is a major threat to the argument of the Republic, where practical and ultimate good is the purview of the just man alone, not the perfectly unjust man as Thrasymachus will argue, nor the man who merely has a reputation for being just. But such a radical belief requires Plato to challenge and revise the conventional Greek view on these subjects. To do that, Plato has to contend with the most important and revered source of conventional Greek belief – poetry – and point the way to its proper reception.

Disputed Citation 1 : Plato Rep. 2.362d6 : Homer Od. 16.97-98; 115-116 (Cf. Homer Il. 21.308-309; Xenophon Memorabilia 2.3.19) Quotation 6: Plato Rep. 2.363b4-c2 : Homer Od. 19.109, 111-114 & Disputed Citation 2 : Plato Rep. 2.363c4-d2 : Homer Od. 16.601-604 After an initial foray, in Allusion 4, into contrasting a poetic versus a philosophic understanding of justice, we encounter next in the dialogue the sophist Thrasymachus’ understanding of justice. Thrasymachus argues that justice “is nothing other than the advantage of the stronger” (Ἄκουε δή, ἦ δ᾽ ὅς. φημὶ γὰρ ἐγὼ εἶναι τὸ δίκαιον οὐκ ἄλλο τι ἢ τὸ τοῦ κρείττονος συμφέρον, Rep. 1.338c1-2). He argues, in addition, that provided that injustice is pursued on a large enough scale, it is “stronger, freer, and more masterly than justice” (οὕτως, ὦ Σώκρατες, καὶ ἰσχυρότερον καὶ ἐλευθεριώτερον καὶ δεσποτικώτερον ἀδικία δικαιοσύνης ἐστὶν ἱκανῶς γιγνομένη, Rep. 1.344c5-7). Socrates’ attempt to refute Thrasymachus’ position is not

124 altogether satisfactory,169 not in the least because Thrasymachus becomes exasperated with Socrates’ style of argumentation and abandons any willful defense of his own position. In the midst of the Thrasymachus episode, poetic citation is absent. It is only at the beginning of Book 2, that poetry returns to the forefront. Glaucon and Adeimantus, dissatisfied with Socrates’ refutation of Thrasymachus, urge him to begin his defense of justice anew. They will employ mimesis to do so, impersonating the Sophist Thrasymachus, taking up his abandoned position in favor of injustice. Glaucon sets the parameters of his own sophistic argument in favor of injustice as follows in Rep. 2.358c1-6: First, I’ll state what kind of thing people consider justice to be and what its origins are. Second, I’ll argue that all people who practice it do so unwillingly, as something necessary, not as something good. Third, I’ll argue that they have good reason to act as they do, for the life of the unjust person is, they say, much better than that of a just one. In what follows, then, Glaucon augments his position with a mythical/poetical argument: The Ring of Gyges (Rep. 2.359a-360d). After Glaucon completes his argument, however, Adeimantus protests, saying “the most important thing to say hasn’t been said yet” (Rep. 2.362d5). While Socrates feigns an inability to challenge adequately even all that Glaucon has said already, comparing himself to a fighter thrown to the ground (see below under Original Context), he still supports and indeed praises Adeimantus’ interest in bringing aid to his brother’s argument. He produces a proverbial saying to color his remarks (Disputed Citation 1), saying: “a man’s brother must stand by him, as the saying goes” (τὸ λεγόμενον, ἀδελφὸς ἀνδρὶ παρείη, Rep. 2.362d6). I have identified this citation as “disputed” because I do not 169

On the weakness of Socrates’ refutation see, e.g., Annas (1981, 50) and Reeve ([1988] 2006, 23).

125 agree with the scholiast who identifies it as Homeric.170 The scholiast refers the reader to Od. 16.97-98 (cf. Od. 16.115-116, a nearly identical repetition of Od. 16.97-98), a scene where Telemachus first encounters Odysseus-beggar. In this episode, Odysseus wonders how Telemachus can have so much trouble with the Suitors, asking, among other things, if Telemachus’ brothers have not been of any aid to him at Od. 16.95, 97-8. εἰπέ μοι ἠὲ ἑκὼν ὑποδάμνασαι … ἦ τι κασιγνήτοις ἐπιμέμφεαι, οἷσί περ ἀνὴρ μαρναμένοισι πέποιθε, καὶ εἰ μέγα νεῖκος ὄρηται. Tell me, are you willingly thus oppressed? … Or have you cause to blame your brothers, in whose fighting a man trusts even if a great strife arise. It is tempting to identify the Homeric passage above as the origin of Socrates’ phrase. Socrates has already compared his argument with Glaucon to a wrestling match, a metaphor which Od. 16.97-98 helps to strengthen. There is also the fact that the writer Plato is, in effect, using his real brothers, Glaucon and Adeimantus, in the Republic to prevail in “the great strife” (μέγα νεῖκος, Od. 16.98) he is facing to prove that the pursuit of justice is preferable to injustice. In the end, however, the passages are simply too dissimilar from one another. Their diction is totally distinct, and there are too many other passages in Greek literature that mention brothers fighting on each other’s behalf to single out just this one, or any one in particular.171 If Socrates’ statement is a proverb, a τὸ λεγόμενον, as he puts it, we must assume it was quoted as such, in words similar to those of Socrates, as a general truth, with no specific literary antecedent

170

The only modern edition that comments on this potential Homeric citation is Jowett & Campbell (1894, 3:ad loc.), which does happen to agree with the scholiast that it is, in fact, Homeric. Jowett & Campbell, however, do not explain their position in any detail. 171 See, e.g. the Cross-References section below. For a later source, see also Demosthenes 19.238: τὸ συγγνώμη ἀδελφῷ βοηθεῖν.

126 intended. The proverb’s inclusion in Michael Apostolios’ book of proverbs (cf. ad. ἀδελφὸς) suggests that, at least in later antiquity, the proverb was cited in exactly the form uttered by Socrates.172 At any rate, with Socrates’ proverbial remark, at this point, poetry reenters the dialogue. Adeimantus, in somewhat more sophisticated fashion than Polemarchus in Book 1 – appropriate given their mimesis or impersonation of the Sophist Thrasymachus – will use the poets as “witnesses” (μάρτυρας, Rep. 2.364c5) to support his position that justice is typically only praised for its consequences, not in and of itself: “people don’t praise justice itself, only the high reputations it leads to and the consequences of being thought to be just” (Rep. 2.363a1-3).173 His “witnesses,” then, include Homer (Quotation 6), Hesiod, and Musaeus and his son.174 In this way, Adeimantus frames the ultimate challenge he and his brother, Glaucon, will present to Socrates: Socrates, of all of you who claim to praise justice, from the original heroes of old whose words survive, to the men of the present day, no one has ever blamed injustice or praised justice except by mentioning the reputations, honors, and rewards that are their consequences. 172

Further evidence that Socrates’ phrase was a proverb in the form uttered by him is the fact that its meter, according to Shorey ([1969] 1982, ad loc.), is characteristic of proverbs. 173 Adeimantus is alluding to Glaucon’s earlier classification of goods from the very beginning of Book 2 at 357a-358a. There Glaucon divided goods into three parts: those pursued for their own sake, those only for their consequences, and those both for their own sake and their consequences. Socrates claims to view justice as a good pursued both for its own sake and for its consequences, but Glaucon argues that this is an unusual position. The many, Glaucon claims, pursue justice only for its consequences. Moreover, they do not cultivate justice itself, but only a seeming justice, or just reputation. 174 According to the Suda, Eumolpus is the name of Musaeus’ son (cf. Εὔμολπος and Μουσαῖος). On the rhetorical force of quoting a triad of witnesses, see Ford (2010, 141): “Triads … carry a certain logical force: one witness proves only that a poet held the view in question; two may be a case of common error; a debater cultivated enough to muster three witnesses … can then conclude … ‘on all sides it is agreed’ … the text suggests … that claims for [Hesiod’s] wisdom by Plato and his contemporaries may be rhetorical or hyperbolic.”

127

From this point till Book 10, Socrates will undertake a defense of “justice itself” without reference to its consequences, a fitting sort of defense given that he is ultimately dealing with the extreme relativism of the Sophist Thrasymachus’ argument. In Quotation 6, in Homer, Odysseus is in Ithaca, still disguised, speaking to his wife, Penelope. When Penelope asks Odysseus-beggar, in standard epic fashion, to tell of his geographical and genealogical background, he prefaces his remarks to Penelope by praising her, comparing her to a “blameless king,” whose just rule brings with it all manner of good consequences. I have designated Rep. 2.363c4-d2 as a “disputed” citation, like Rep. 2.362d6 (Disputed Citation 1) above. In this passage, Adeimantus augments his citations of Homer and Hesiod by mentioning the way that the Orphic poet Musaeus and his son give yet additional goods to the just in the afterlife: couches, wreaths, and symposia. Adam takes this as a veiled reference to Od. 16.610-604.175 In these verses, in Homer, Odysseus, seeing Heracles’ shade in the Underworld, notes the special honor he receives of feasting among the Olympians. Adam rightly points out that Heracles was “the stock example in antiquity of earthly virtue rewarded by the delights of a sensuous paradise,” such as Socrates attributes to Musaeus and his son in the Platonic passage in question. Adam argues further that this poetic commonplace derives ultimately from Homer’s depiction of Heracles in the Underworld.176 Adam’s interpretation is basically sound, but given the fact that Adeimantus explicitly attributes the idea of rewards in the afterlife to Musaeus, it is difficult to argue persuasively that Plato had Homer’s depiction of 175

Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. See its use in Pindar (Nem. 1.71, Ol. 2.61 ff., fr. 129 ff.), Theocritus (17.28 ff.), and Horace (Od. 3.3.9 ff.).

176

128 Heracles in mind. Neither the vocabulary nor the style of the respective Homeric and Platonic passages match one another. Further, as Adam fails to note, there are legitimate doubts as to the authenticity of Od. 16.601-604, with some scholars claiming that the verses are a later addition to the poem.177 I have listed this citation as “disputed,” then, as, while there is some merit to Adam’s reading, ultimately it is not sufficiently clear that any reference to Homer is being made. Original Context Plato Rep. 2.362c6-8, 362d5-363d2 οὕτω φασίν, ὦ Σώκρατες, παρὰ θεῶν καὶ παρ᾽ ἀνθρώπων τῷ ἀδίκῳ παρεσκευάσθαι τὸν βίον ἄμεινον ἢ τῷ δικαίῳ. … Αὐτό, ἦ δ’ ὅς, οὐκ εἴρηται ὃ μάλιστα ἔδει ῥηθῆναι. 5 Οὐκοῦν, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, τὸ λεγόμενον, [(1) ἀδελφὸς ἀνδρὶ παρείη·]178 ὥστε καὶ σύ, εἴ τι ὅδε ἐλλείπει, ἐπάμυνε. καίτοι ἐμέ γε ἱκανὰ καὶ τὰ ὑπὸ τούτου ῥηθέντα καταπαλαῖσαι καὶ ἀδύνατον ποιῆσαι βοηθεῖν δικαιοσύνῃ. Καὶ ὅς, οὐδέν, ἔφη, λέγεις· ἀλλ᾽ ἔτι καὶ τάδε ἄκουε. e δεῖ γὰρ διελθεῖν ἡμᾶς καὶ τοὺς ἐναντίους λόγους ὧν ὅδε εἶπεν, οἳ δικαιοσύνην μὲν ἐπαινοῦσιν, ἀδικίαν δὲ ψέγουσιν, ἵν᾽ ᾖ σαφέστερον ὅ μοι δοκεῖ βούλεσθαι Γλαύκων. λέγουσι δέ που καὶ παρακελεύονται πατέρες τε ὑέσιν, καὶ πάντες οἱ 5 τινῶν κηδόμενοι, ὡς χρὴ δίκαιον εἶναι, οὐκ αὐτὸ δικαιοσύνην 363 ἐπαινοῦντες ἀλλὰ τὰς ἀπ᾽ αὐτῆς εὐδοκιμήσεις, ἵνα δοκοῦντι δικαίῳ εἶναι γίγνηται ἀπὸ τῆς δόξης ἀρχαί τε καὶ γάμοι καὶ ὅσαπερ Γλαύκων διῆλθεν ἄρτι, ἀπὸ τοῦ εὐδοκιμεῖν ὄντα τῷ δικαίῳ. ἐπὶ πλέον δὲ οὗτοι τὰ τῶν δοξῶν λέγουσιν. 5 τὰς γὰρ παρὰ θεῶν εὐδοκιμήσεις ἐμβάλλοντες ἄφθονα ἔχουσι λέγειν ἀγαθά, τοῖς ὁσίοις ἅ φασι θεοὺς διδόναι· ὥσπερ ὁ γενναῖος Ἡσίοδός τε καὶ Ὅμηρός φασιν, ὁ μὲν τὰς δρῦς τοῖς δικαίοις τοὺς θεοὺς ποιεῖν “ἄκρας μέν τε φέρειν b βαλάνους, μέσσας δὲ μελίσσας· εἰροπόκοι δ᾽ ὄιες, φησίν, μαλλοῖς καταβεβρίθασι”, καὶ ἄλλα δὴ πολλὰ ἀγαθὰ τούτων ἐχόμενα. παραπλήσια δὲ καὶ ὁ ἕτερος· [(6) ὥς τέ τευ γάρ φησιν 5 177

See Merry (1886, ad loc.) and Heubeck (1989, ad loc.). For a survey of various, modern textual emendations suggested for this phrase, see Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.). 178

129 ἢ βασιλῆος ἀμύμονος ὅς τε θεουδὴς εὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι, φέρῃσι δὲ γαῖα μέλαινα πυροὺς καὶ κριθάς, βρίθῃσι δὲ δένδρεα καρπῷ, τίκτῃ δ’ ἔμπεδα μῆλα, θάλασσα δὲ παρέχῃ ἰχθῦς.] Μουσαῖος δὲ τούτων νεανικώτερα τἀγαθὰ καὶ ὁ ὑὸς αὐτοῦ παρὰ θεῶν διδόασιν τοῖς δικαίοις· [(2) εἰς Ἅιδου γὰρ ἀγαγόντες τῷ λόγῳ καὶ κατακλίναντες καὶ συμπόσιον τῶν ὁσίων κατασκευάσαντες ἐστεφανωμένους ποιοῦσιν τὸν ἅπαντα χρόνον ἤδη διάγειν μεθύοντας, ἡγησάμενοι κάλλιστον ἀρετῆς μισθὸν μέθην αἰώνιον.]

c

5 d

Plato Rep. 2.363b4-c2 [Glaucon:] “That’s what they say, Socrates, that gods and humans provide a better life for unjust people than for just ones.” … [Adeimantus]: “You surely don’t think that the position has been adequately stated?” [Socrates:] “Why not?” I said. [Adeimantus:] “The most important thing to say hasn’t been said yet?” “Well, then,” I replied, [(1) “a man’s brother must stand by him,] as the saying goes. If Glaucon has omitted something, you must help him. Yet what he has said is enough to throw me to the canvas and make me unable to come to the aid of justice.” “Nonsense,” he said. “Hear what more I have to say, for we should also fully explore the arguments that are opposed to the ones Glaucon gave, the ones that praise justice and find fault with injustice, so that what I take to be his intention may be clearer.” “When fathers speak to their sons, they say that one must be just, as do all others who have charge of anyone. But they don’t praise justice itself, only the high reputations it leads to and the consequences of being thought to be just, such as the public offices, marriages, and the other things Glaucon listed. But they elaborate even further on the consequences of reputation. By bringing in the esteem of the gods, they are able to talk about the abundant good things that they themselves and the noble Hesiod and Homer say that the gods give the pious, for Hesiod says that the gods make the oak trees Bear acorns at the top and bees in the middle And make fleecy sheep heavy laden with wool For the just, and tells of many other good things akin to these. And similarly the other poet: [(6) as when, he says, some blameless king, who with the fear of the gods in his heart, upholds justice; and the black earth bears wheat and barley, and the trees are laden with fruit, the flocks bring forth young unceasingly, and the sea yields fish.] Musaeus and his son make the gods give the just more headstrong goods than these. [(2) In their stories, they lead the just to Hades, seat them on couches, provide them with a symposium of pious people, crown them with wreaths, and make them spend all their time drinking – as if they thought drunkenness was the finest wage of virtue.”]

130 Disputed Citation 1 Homer Od. 16.95-98, 112-116 εἰπέ μοι ἠὲ ἑκὼν ὑποδάμνασαι, ἦ σέ γε λαοὶ ἐχθαίρουσ’ ἀνὰ δῆμον, ἐπισπόμενοι θεοῦ ὀμφῇ, [ἦ τι κασιγνήτοις ἐπιμέμφεαι, οἷσί περ ἀνὴρ μαρναμένοισι πέποιθε, καὶ εἰ μέγα νεῖκος ὄρηται.] … τὸν δ᾽ αὖ Τηλέμαχος πεπνυμένος ἀντίον ηὔδα· “τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλ᾽ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω. οὔτε τί μοι πᾶς δῆμος ἀπεχθόμενος χαλεπαίνει, [οὔτε κασιγνήτοις ἐπιμέμφομαι, οἷσί περ ἀνὴρ μαρναμένοισι πέποιθε, καὶ εἰ μέγα νεῖκος ὄρηται.]

95

115

[Odysseus beggar to Telemachus:] “Tell me, are you willingly thus oppressed? Or do the people throughout the land hate you, following the voice of a god? [Or have you cause to blame your brothers, in whose fighting a man trusts even if a great strife arise.”] … And wise Telemachus answered him: “Then verily, stranger, I will frankly tell you all. Neither do the people at large bear me any grudge or hatred, [nor have I cause to blame brothers, in whose fighting a man trusts, even if a great strife arise.”] Quotation 6 Homer Od. 19.108-114 ἦ γάρ σευ κλέος οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἱκάνει, [ὥς τέ τευ ἢ βασιλῆος ἀμύμονος, ὅς τε θεουδὴς ἀνδράσιν ἐν πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἀνάσσων εὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι, φέρῃσι δὲ γαῖα μέλαινα πυροὺς καὶ κριθάς, βρίθῃσι δὲ δένδρεα καρπῷ, τίκτῃ δ’ ἔμπεδα μῆλα, θάλασσα δὲ παρέχῃ ἰχθῦς] ἐξ εὐηγεσίης, ἀρετῶσι δὲ λαοὶ ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ.

110

[Odysseus-beggar to Penelope:] “for your fame goes up to the broad heaven, [as when some blameless king, who with the fear of the gods in his heart, as lord over many mighty men, upholds justice; and the black earth bears wheat and barley, and the trees are laden with fruit, the flocks bring forth young unceasingly, and the sea yields fish,] all from his good leading; and the people prosper under him. Disputed Citation 2 Homer Od. 16.601-604

131 [“τὸν δὲ μετ᾽ εἰσενόησα βίην Ἡρακληείην, εἴδωλον· αὐτὸς δὲ μετ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι τέρπεται ἐν θαλίῃς καὶ ἔχει καλλίσφυρον Ἥβην, παῖδα Διὸς μεγάλοιο καὶ Ἥρης χρυσοπεδίλου.] [Odysseus:] [“And after him I marked the mighty Heracles—his phantom; for he himself among the immortal gods takes his joy in the feast, and has to wife Hebe, of the fair ankles, daughter of great Zeus and of Here, of the golden sandals.”] Cross-References Disputed Citation 1 Homer Iliad 21.308-315 φίλε κασίγνητε σθένος ἀνέρος ἀμφότεροί περ σχῶμεν, ἐπεὶ τάχα ἄστυ μέγα Πριάμοιο ἄνακτος ἐκπέρσει, Τρῶες δὲ κατὰ μόθον οὐ μενέουσιν. ἀλλ᾽ ἐπάμυνε τάχιστα, καὶ ἐμπίπληθι ῥέεθρα ὕδατος ἐκ πηγέων, πάντας δ᾽ ὀρόθυνον ἐναύλους, ἵστη δὲ μέγα κῦμα, πολὺν δ᾽ ὀρυμαγδὸν ὄρινε φιτρῶν καὶ λάων, ἵνα παύσομεν ἄγριον ἄνδρα ὃς δὴ νῦν κρατέει, μέμονεν δ᾽ ὅ γε ἶσα θεοῖσι.

310

315

[Scamander to Simois:] “Dear brother, the might of this man let us stay, though it need the two of us, seeing presently he will lay waste the great city of king Priam, neither will the Trojans abide him in battle. Nay, bring your aid with speed, and fill your streams with water from your springs, and arouse all your torrents; raise a great wave, and stir a mighty din of tree-trunks and stones, that we may check this fierce man that now prevails, and is minded to vie even with the gods.” Xenophon Memorabilia 2.3.19 οὐκ ἂν πολλὴ ἀμαθία εἴη καὶ κακοδαιμονία τοῖς ἐπ᾽ ὠφελείᾳ πεποιημένοις ἐπὶ βλάβῃ χρῆσθαι; καὶ μὴν ἀδελφώ γε, ὡς ἐμοὶ δοκεῖ, ὁ θεὸς ἐποίησεν ἐπὶ μείζονι ὠφελείᾳ ἀλλήλοιν ἢ χεῖρέ τε καὶ πόδε καὶ ὀφθαλμὼ καὶ τἆλλα ὅσα ἀδελφὰ ἔφυσεν ἀνθρώποις. χεῖρες μὲν γάρ, εἰ δέοι αὐτὰς τὰ πλέον ὀργυιᾶς διέχοντα ἅμα ποιῆσαι, οὐκ ἂν δύναιντο, πόδες δὲ οὐδ᾽ ἂν ἐπὶ τὰ ὀργυιὰν διέχοντα ἔλθοιεν ἅμα, ὀφθαλμοὶ δὲ οἱ δοκοῦντες ἐπὶ πλεῖστον ἐξικνεῖσθαι οὐδ᾽ ἂν τῶν ἔτι ἐγγυτέρω ὄντων τὰ ἔμπροσθεν ἅμα καὶ τὰ ὄπισθεν ἰδεῖν δύναιντο· ἀδελφὼ δέ, φίλω ὄντε, καὶ πολὺ διεστῶτε πράττετον ἅμα καὶ ἐπ᾽ ὠφελείᾳ ἀλλήλοιν.179

179

The text and translation is that of Marchant (1923).

132 [Socrates to Chaerecrates:] “Would it not be utterly senseless and disastrous to use for hindrance instruments that were made for help? And, moreover, a pair of brothers, in my judgment, were made by God to render better service one to the other than a pair of hands and feet and eyes and all the instruments that he meant to be used as fellows. For the hands cannot deal simultaneously with things that are more than six feet or so apart: the feet cannot reach in a single stride things that are even six feet apart: and the eyes, though they seem to have a longer range, cannot at the same moment see things still nearer than that, if some are in front and some behind. But two brothers, when they are friends, act simultaneously for mutual benefit, however far parted one from the other.” Texts Quotation 6 Plato Rep. 2.363b4-c2 παραπλήσια δὲ καὶ ὁ ἕτερος· [ὥς τέ τευ γάρ φησιν ἢ βασιλῆος ἀμύμονος ὅς τε θεουδὴς εὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι, φέρῃσι δὲ γαῖα μέλαινα πυροὺς καὶ κριθάς, βρίθῃσι δὲ δένδρεα καρπῷ, τίκτῃ δ’ ἔμπεδα μῆλα, θάλασσα δὲ παρέχῃ ἰχθῦς.] Homer Od. 19.109-113 [ὥς τέ τευ ἢ βασιλῆος ἀμύμονος, ὅς τε θεουδὴς ἀνδράσιν ἐν πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἀνάσσων εὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι, φέρῃσι δὲ γαῖα μέλαινα πυροὺς καὶ κριθάς, βρίθῃσι δὲ δένδρεα καρπῷ, τίκτῃ δ’ ἔμπεδα μῆλα, θάλασσα δὲ παρέχῃ ἰχθῦς]

5

c

110

Textual Differences Quotation 6 1) γάρ φησιν (b5) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience] Here, in somewhat standard fashion,180 a Platonic character begins a Homeric quotation, only for it to be interrupted almost immediately, here with the phrase γάρ φησιν. This addition, of course, naturally disrupts the natural rhythm of the poetic passage. Most modern editors 180

Cf., e.g., Plato’s use of ἔφη in Quotations 35 and 39.

133 misidentify this citation, taking it as beginning after γάρ φησιν in line b6, disregarding the fact that the preceeding ὥς τέ τευ (b4-5) is also Homeric. 2) ἀνδράσιν ἐν πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἀνάσσων (110) [Intentional Omission] [Legitimate Variant] [Scribal / Authorial Error] Here, as is the case below in Quotation 8 and Paraphrase 2, Plato’s text drops an entire line from the Homeric original. Howes offers a variety of hypotheses to account for the missing line: 1) Plato’s text may not have had line 110; 2) Plato omitted the verse on purpose or 3) accidentally; 4) a scribe omitted the line by mistake. I will not dismiss hypotheses 3 and 4 outright – clearly either of these hypotheses could correctly explain Plato’s omission – but I will also not discuss these hypotheses further; there nothing to gain as it is impossible to prove whether or not Plato or a later copyist made a mistake. I will discuss hypotheses 1 and 2, however, in some depth below. In the end, I think it is most likely that Plato dropped the line from his text on purpose (hypothesis 2). To treat hypothesis 2 first, then, I will point out that there is precedent for Plato to eliminate lines in a citation that are for him superfluous, as 110 is here.181 Lohse, whose comments I include in full below, argues further that dropping out line 110 helps Plato to highlight a term in the Homeric passage that is quite important to him, θεουδής, a term I shall discuss in detail below in Quotation 7. At any rate, my reading of the passage is quite close to that of Lohse:182 In Platons “Staat” sagt Adeimantos, daß Homer und Hesiod die Gerechtigkeit preisen und denen, die sie ausüben, Belohnung durch die Götter versprechen. Als Beleg zitiert er 181

For a limited survey of this practice elsewhere in the Platonic corpus, see Howes (1895, 2078). In this study, see my commentary on Quotation 8 & Paraphrase 2. 182 Lohse 1965, 269.

134 darauf die Odysseeverse, die von den Vorteilen, die sich für den Gerechten ergeben, Zeugnis ablegen sollen. Der bei Platon ausgelassene Vers τ 110 trägt nicht zum Gedanken bei. Er dient vielmehr dazu, den Begriff βασιλεὺς durch einen bildhaften Ausdruck zu bereichern, der den König bei seiner spezifischen Tätigkeit, dem ἀνάσσειν zeigt. Platon, dem es auf den Gedanken ankam und dem für seinen Zweck jede epische Ausschmückung ungelegen sein mußte, verzichtete deshalb auf den Vers. Der Präzisierung dessen, was Platon wichtig erschien, dient auch die neue Stellung, die das Wort θεουδής (τ 109) durch die Auslassung bekommen hat. θεουδής wird nicht mehr durch den Nebengedanken (ἀνδράσιν ἐν πολλοῖσι καὶ ἰφθίμοισι ἀνάσσων) vom Hauptverb getrennt, sondern steht unmittelbar neben εὐδικίας ἀνέχῃσι. What complicates Plato’s omission, however, is that later authors, namely Themistius (15.188d), Philodemus (fr. 4.23-34 (Olivieri)), and Plutarch (Mor. 780 ff.) in their citations of Od. 16.109114, also leave out verse 110. It is certainly possible to argue – as Labarbe does (see below) – that this is evidence in favor of hypothesis 1 above, that Plato’s Homer (and the Homeric text of others) simply did not include line 110. What is crucial to point out here, however, is that all of these authors were either Platonists proper or were heavily influenced by Plato.183 Given that all of these authors use the citation in contexts similar to Plato himself, I argue that these authors were consulting Plato’s citation of Homer rather than consulting their own texts of Homer directly. It is worthwhile, however, to entertain Larbarbe’s position in full, as it does contain some merit. Besides the “evidence” of Themistius, Philodemus (fr. 4.23-34 Olivieri), and Plutarch’s citation of Od. 16.109-114, all of which omit verse 110, Labarbe also points out that there is evidence that 110 itself is an interpolated verse in Homer.184 He points out, following Friedrich

183

Lohse (1965, 271) points out Plutarch’s dependence on Plato’s text in several other instances in which he quotes Homer. See Heather (2001, 241) for Themistius’ dependence on Plato for his Homeric citation here and elsewhere. 184 Labarbe 1949, 139.

135 Blass and Victor Bérard,185 that Od. 16.110 is a near twin of Od. 24.26 (οὕνεκα πολλοῖσιν τε καὶ ἰφθίμοισιν ἄνασσες). Furthermore, it can also be argued that Od. 16.110 is an amalgam of other similar lines spread throughout the epic (cf. esp. Od. 16.244, Il. 21.188, Od. 15.240, Il. 17.308, inter alia). While Labarbe’s position is attractive, in the end, I am inclined to agree with Lohse. I think that the citations of Homer in Themistius, Philodemus, and Plutarch without verse 110 carry little weight in favor of hypothesis 1, since these authors are heavily dependent on Plato. In addition, the idea that Plato dispenses with a line that is unnecessary to his purposes is in keeping with his habits of citation throughout the Republic, particularly on the small-scale, with words rather than entire lines as here. Finally, while it is certainly possible that Od. 16.110 is a later interpolation, it could just as likely be the case that it is a simple variation on a formulaic phrase used many other places in the epic. Interpretation Quotation 6, then, represents a major turning point in the Republic. Not only does poetry come to the forefront of the dialogue, but Socrates is asked to undertake a defense of justice, of “justice itself,” that will consume the vast majority of the rest of the work, until Rep. 10.612c. And while a conventional defense of the just life, which, as we have seen, according to Adeimantus, only concerns the consequences of justice, is rejected, the poets themselves will remain important interlocutors in the dialogue. Halliwell makes a similar point quite eloquently, focusing on the

185

Blass 1904, 187; Bérard 1924-5, 1:435. Bérard’s editorial style, however, tends to be somewhat extreme. A case in point, he condemns Od. 19.106-165 in its entirety, this despite the attestation of many of these lines in Plato and other sources.

136 need for Plato, if philosophy is to prevail in its ancient quarrel with poetry, to engage the poets directly:186 Adeimantus simultaneously attests to and practises the habit of calling poetic witnesses. Although his own stance towards the prevailing weight of cultural opinion is implicitly hostile … his use of poetic quotation and citation nonetheless seems to presuppose the force lent to certain claims by the calling of poetic ‘witnesses’ (364c5-6): if that were not so, the whole thrust of the challenge to Socrates would lose its pertinence and its dialectical bite. Adeimantus’ speech enables us to see with great clarity why the practice of citing poets should matter so much to Plato, since it reveals a mentality which penetrates as far as the deepest ethical convictions both of individuals and of the culture as a whole. And thus, in what is to follow in the Republic, Socrates variously quotes, misquotes, and misappropriates the poets’ “arguments” about justice and the other virtues in order to silence them or array them in his favor both to carry out an implicit criticism of the rhetoricians’ and Sophists’ methods and to support his own philosophical position in favor of justice itself.

Allusion 4: Plato Rep. 10.612b5 (Cf. Plato Rep. 2.357a-367e) : Homer Od. 5.845; Ps.-Hesiod Shield of Heracles 227 Interpretive Context The Republic first explicitly sets forth the basic distinction between seeming to be just and being just in Books 1 and 2. The sophistic opinion that Socrates has to contend with here is that seeming to be just is better than actually being just, as it allows one to reap the benefits of a just reputation without the inconvenience of actually having to be just. This position is established

186

Halliwell 2000, 100.

137 and then abandoned by Thrasymachus, then argued for most strongly by Glaucon (Rep. 2.357a362d ), who begins his argument by citing the Myth of Gyges’ Ring at Rep. 2.359c-360c, poetic “proof” (τεκμήριον, Rep. 2.360c5) that no one ever practices justice willingly. Glaucon, then, imagines the state of a perfectly unjust man, one who, as “a master of his craft” (δημιουργοὶ, Rep. 2.360e7), performs supreme acts of injustice, yet always remains undetected. Glaucon is only playing devil’s advocate here, of course, baiting Socrates to praise justice itself, regardless of external considerations, a position that Glaucon argues has never been adequately stated by anyone: Socrates, of all of you who claim to praise justice [δικαιοσύνης, e1], from the original heroes of old whose words survive, to the men of the present day, not one has ever blamed injustice [ἀδικίαν, e3] or praised justice except by mentioning the reputations, honors, and rewards that are the consequences. No one has ever adequately described what each itself [αὐτὸ] does of its own power by its presence in the soul of the person who possesses it, even if it remains hidden from the gods and humans. No one, whether in poetry or in private conversation, has adequately argued that injustice is the worst thing a soul can have in it and that justice is the greatest good.187 Glaucon’s exhortation and Adeimantus’ support and augmentation in favor of it (Rep. 2.362d367d) prove too much for Socrates initially: “I’m at a loss as to what to do” (ἀπορῶ ὅτι χρήσωμαι, Rep. 2.368b3-4). Finally, Socrates concludes that the best way to study justice itself it to view it writ large, as it comes to be and exists in a city, the discussion of which occupies the next eight books of the Republic. It is only at Rep. 10.608c ff., then, that Socrates finally fulfills Glaucon’s request. In the midst of an argument for the immortality of the soul, Socrates “proves” that injustice is the particular natural badness and sickness associated with the soul,188

187

Rep. 2.366d7-e9. Scholars who assess the validity and logical soundness of arguments such as these in Plato, as Flew (2000, 42-4) who calls this particular argument “anaemic,” underestimate the way in which

188

138 and thus justice the particular goodness. Whereas injustice “destroys and corrupts” the soul (Rep. 10.608e3-4), “justice itself is the best thing for the soul itself” (ἀλλ’ αὐτὸ δικαιοσύνην αὐτῇ ψυχῇ ἄριστον ηὕρομεν, Rep. 10.612b2-3). In this way, Socrates is able to dismiss entirely the pursuit of justice for its consequences: “Haven’t we cleared away the various other objections to our argument without having to invoke the rewards and reputations of justice, as you said Homer and Hesiod did?” (cf. Rep. 10.612a1-b2). Socrates is even able to dismiss the allure of Glaucon’s previous example, that of Gyges’ ring, which he had cited at Rep. 2.359d360b in order to demonstrate that anyone who had the opportunity to commit injustice with impunity would surely do so: “and haven’t we found that justice itself [αὐτὸ δικαιοσύνην, b12] is the best thing for the soul itself [αὐτῇ ψυχῇ, b2], and that the soul – whether it has the ring of Gyges or even it together with the cap of Hades – should do just things [τὰ δίκαια, b3]?” (Rep. 10.612b1-4). Having established the value of pursuing justice itself, Socrates asks Glaucon to give him back what he had borrowed from him earlier –a brilliantly playful allusion to the original, conventional Greek definition of justice “to give to each what is owed” – namely, to allow that “the reputation [δόξης, d4] justice in fact has among gods and humans be returned to it” (Rep. 10.612d3-5). And so Socrates allays any fears in regard to the gods not noticing justice among men, or just men not receiving in the end all the prizes and rewards befitting them. And so in this citation, Socrates selects out for ridicule the most absurd of the poetic treatments of

these arguments work in the broader contexts in the individual dialogues. Here Socrates is merely asserting that justice is good intrinsically for the soul itself, injustice bad. He intends to underline his point even more by raising the stakes of ethical behavior as high as possible: if earthly actions have an eternal dimension to them (due to punishment or reward), the argument in favor of justice is even more appealing. In short, Socrates is making a philosophic point via rhetoric.

139 justice,189 those which imagine the boon which would attend one having a magical device – a ring or cap – to allow him to pursue injustice with impunity. In Homer, the cap of Hades is used by Athene so that she may hide her true identity from Ares. Athene acts as Diomedes’ charioteer and aids him in wounding Ares. As is the case with so many of Plato’s Homeric citations, the passages from which they come – perhaps just as a matter of coincidence – fail on several counts according to Plato’s criteria for “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) art. Athene and Ares are both shape-shifters and deceive one another: Athene disguises herself with the cap of Hades; Ares, the “double-faced liar” (Il. 5.831), breaks his promise to Athene to join her and Hera in fighting against the Trojans. The episode also contains a minor theomachy, the impious wounding of an immortal (Ares) by Diomedes, and the failed “justice” of Zeus. As Diomedes complains: Father Zeus, are you not angry looking on these acts of violence? We who are the gods forever have to endure the most horrible hurts, by each other’s hatred, as we try to give favor to mortals. It is your fault we fight, since you brought forth this maniac daughter accused, whose mind is forever fixed on wicked action.” It is also possible that Plato may have had in mind the treatment of the cap of Hades from the pseudo-Hesiodic Shield of Heracles.190 Labarbe cites the probability of such a double allusion,191 noting that Homer and Hesiod are “linked” immediately above the allusion itself (cf. Rep. 10.612b2). In Pseudo-Hesiod the hero Perseus is depicted on the shield wearing the cap of Hades as he attempts to flee the Gorgons.

189

For another, albeit more blatantly comic mention of the cap of Hades, see Aristophanes (Acharnians 390). 190 See Shapiro (1984) for the popularity of The Shield of Heracles as depicted in Attic vasepainting immediately prior to Plato’s lifetime, in sixth-century Athens. 191 Labarbe 1949, 326-7.

140 Original Context Plato Rep. 612a8-c4 Οὐκοῦν, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, τά τε ἄλλα ἀπελυσάμεθα ἐν τῷ λόγῳ, καὶ οὐ τοὺς μισθοὺς οὐδὲ τὰς δόξας δικαιοσύνης ἐπῃνέκαμεν, ὥσπερ Ἡσίοδόν τε καὶ Ὅμηρον ὑμεῖς ἔφατε, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτὸ δικαιοσύνην αὐτῇ ψυχῇ ἄριστον ηὕρομεν, καὶ ποιητέον εἶναι αὐτῇ τὰ δίκαια, ἐάντ᾽ ἔχῃ τὸν Γύγου δακτύλιον, ἐάντε μή, καὶ πρὸς τοιούτῳ δακτυλίῳ τὴν [Ἄιδος κυνῆν;] Ἀληθέστατα, ἔφη, λέγεις. Ἆρ᾽ οὖν, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, ὦ Γλαύκων, νῦν ἤδη ἀνεπίφθονόν ἐστιν πρὸς ἐκείνοις καὶ τοὺς μισθοὺς τῇ δικαιοσύνῃ καὶ τῇ ἄλλῃ ἀρετῇ ἀποδοῦναι, ὅσους τε καὶ οἵους τῇ ψυχῇ παρέχει παρ᾽ ἀνθρώπων τε καὶ θεῶν, ζῶντός τε ἔτι τοῦ ἀνθρώπου καὶ ἐπειδὰν τελευτήσῃ; Παντάπασι μὲν οὖν, ἦ δ᾽ ὅς.

b

5

c

[Socrates:] “And haven’t we cleared away the various other objections to our argument without having to involve the rewards and reputations of justice, as you said Homer and Hesiod did? And haven’t we found that justice itself is the best thing for the soul itself, and that the soul – whether it has the ring of Gyges or even it together with the [helmet of Hades] – should do just things?” [Glaucon:] “We have. That’s absolutely true.” “Then can there now be any objection, Glaucon, if in addition we return to justice and the rest of virtue both the kind and quantity of wages that they obtain for the soul from human beings and gods, whether in this life or the next?” “None whatever.” Ps.-Hesiod Shield of Heracles 226-231 δεινὴ δὲ περὶ κροτάφοισιν ἄνακτος κεῖτ᾽ [Ἄιδος κυνέη] νυκτὸς ζόφον αἰνὸν ἔχουσα. αὐτὸς δὲ σπεύδοντι καὶ ἐρρίγοντι ἐοικὼς Περσεὺς Δαναΐδης ἐτιταίνετο. ταὶ δὲ μετ᾽ αὐτὸν Γοργόνες ἄπλητοί τε καὶ οὐ φαταὶ ἐρρώοντο ἱέμεναι μαπέειν.

230

There, too, was the son of rich-haired Danae, the horseman Perseus: his feet did not touch the shield and yet were not far from it—very marvelous to remark, since he was not supported anywhere; for so did the famous Lame One fashion him of gold with his hands. On his feet he had winged sandals, and his black-sheathed sword was slung across his shoulders by a cross-belt of bronze. He was flying swift as thought. The head of a dreadful monster, the Gorgon, covered the broad of his back, and a bag of silver—a marvel to see—contained it: and from the bag bright tassels of gold hung down. Upon the head of the hero lay the dread [helmet of Hades] which had

141 the awful gloom of night. Perseus himself, the son of Danae, was at full stretch, like one who hurries and shudders with horror. And after him rushed the Gorgons, unapproachable and unspeakable, longing to seize him.192 Homer Il. 5.840-845 λάζετο δὲ μάστιγα καὶ ἡνία Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη· αὐτίκ᾽ ἐπ᾽ Ἄρηϊ πρώτῳ ἔχε μώνυχας ἵππους. ἤτοι ὃ μὲν Περίφαντα πελώριον ἐξενάριζεν Αἰτωλῶν ὄχ᾽ ἄριστον Ὀχησίου ἀγλαὸν υἱόν· τὸν μὲν Ἄρης ἐνάριζε μιαιφόνος· αὐτὰρ Ἀθήνη δῦν᾽ [Ἄϊδος κυνέην,] μή μιν ἴδοι ὄβριμος Ἄρης.

840

845

Then Pallas Athene grasped the lash and the reins, and against Ares first she speedily drove the single-hooved horses. He was stripping of his armor huge Periphas that was far the best of the Aetolians, the glorious son of Ochesius. Him was blood-stained Ares stripping; but Athene [845] put on [the helmet of Hades], to the end that mighty Ares should not see her. Texts Plato Rep. 612b5 καὶ πρὸς τοιούτῳ δακτυλίῳ τὴν [Ἄιδος κυνῆν;]

5

b5 κυνῆν] κυνέην Stobaeus Ps.-Hesiod Shield of Heracles 227 κεῖτ᾽ [Ἄϊδος κυνέη] νυκτὸς ζόφον αἰνὸν ἔχουσα. Homer Il. 5.845 δῦν᾽ [Ἄϊδος κυνέην,] μή μιν ἴδοι ὄβριμος Ἄρης.

845

Textual Differences 1) Ἄιδος (b5) : Ἄϊδος (227; 845) [Arbitrary, Modern Editorial Decision] Here the textual difference is, as noted above, merely the result of modern editorial procedure. Modern editors of Plato typically write forms of the word Ἄιδος as above, with the vowels of 192

The translation of this passage is from Evelyn-White (1914).

142 the first syllable pronounced as a diphthong rather than separately as in Homer.193 In the end I list such editorial decisions as arbitrary given that Plato’s autograph copy of the Republic would not have even possessed any of the diacritical marks in question. 2) κυνῆν (b5) : κυνέην (227; 845) Labarbe argues that Plato’s Homer (like ours) must have read κυνέην since κυνῆν,194 in its present position in the line, would have not fit properly into Homer’s hexameter. Against Labarbe, however, Ludwich argues, to my mind correctly, that for Plato κυνῆν must be the right reading.195 Not only does it have manuscript support, but also, as the citation is not a quotation but rather an allusion, the Homeric form (κυνέην) would have been Atticized (κυνῆν) to flow more naturally with Plato’s Attic prose. The fact that Plato here uses a Homeric form Ἄιδος in conjunction with the Attic κυνῆν is indeed typical of Plato and other authors. Aristophanes, in fact, at Ach. 390, like Plato mentioning the Helmet of Hades, writes τὴν Ἄιδος κυνῆν. Aristophanes, of course, uses this sort of hybrid phrasing in order that Ἄιδος κυνῆν fits his metrical scheme.196 The question remains, then, in prose why would Plato use a “hybrid” phrase. Here again, a comparison with another author is instructive. In similar circumstances to that of Plato – that is to say referencing poetry in a philosophic context in the medium of prose –

193

The Attic genitive Αἴδου appears a full fifty times in the Platonic corpus (cf. Apology 29b; 41a; Crito 54a; 54b; 54c; Phaedo 58e; 68a; 68b; 69c; 70c; 71e; 80d; 81c; 83d; 85b; 107a; 107d [2]; 108a; 115a; Cratylus 395d; Symposium 179c; 179d [2]; 192e; Gorgias 493b; 522e; 525b; 525c; 525e; Meno 81c; 100a; Ion 531c; Republic 1.330d; 2.363c; 363d; 366a; 3.386b [2]; 392a; 7.521c; 534c; 10.596c; 619a; Timaeus 44c; Laws 5.727d; 9.870d; 9.881a, 9.881b; 10.905b. 194 Labarbe 1949, 327. 195 Ludwich 1884-5, 116. 196 See also Anacreon (fr. 2.5 [Diehl]), for example, who, when he quotes the first three words of Il 12.282 (ὑψηλὰς ὀρέων κορυφάς) has ὀρέων undergo synizesis to fit his meter.

143 Pherecydes (fr. 11 Jac.) also writes the hybrid phrase Ἄιδος κυνῆν.197 As Labarbe understands it, both authors, in making a poetic reference, maintain a partial poetic register. While Labarbe does not explain his interpretation any further, perhaps an analogy in English would be useful. If I were to recall line 3 of the prologue to Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, “And bathed euery veyne in swich lycour,” I might say that my veins are bathed in sweet lycour. Otherwise, I may put the rest in my own modern dialect. The analogy is imperfect, of course – virtually no one would glean my reference to Chaucer, let alone the fact that lycour is much more unusual than an archaic use of “thee” or “thou.” But the point remains – and here I go further than Labarbe – that Plato’s “slip” into a poetic register with his use of the word Ἄιδος – unconscious or not – does serve the purpose of making his reference to Homer (or Hesiod) all the more clear and effective. In the same way that in English we tend to use more formal language in a religious or ritual setting – “hallowed be thy name” comes more naturally to mind than the Middle English “lycour” – Plato in making a casual reference to a poetic idea gives his audience the more “obvious” word in a poetic form (Ἄιδος), but keeps the less common one in its Attic form. Finally, as Labarbe points out, in the end it is extremely common for Plato in his citations of Homer to adopt poetic forms only in part.198

197

It is difficult not to wonder if Plato means to cite Pherecydes in any way, given that he, like Plato, was a formulator of cosmogenic myths and a proponent of the idea of the transmigration of the souls. If we give any credence to ancient biographical writings on Plato, the Pythagoreans seem to have figured prominently in Plato’s philosophic training and Pherecydes was reputed to have been Pythagoras’ teacher. Moreover, Pherecydes, like Plato, was not averse to challenging poetic conceptions of the cosmos with his own philosophic ideas, on which point see Shibli (1990, esp. 133). 198 Labarbe 1949, esp. 395 ff.

144 Quotation 7: Plato Rep. 6.501b7 : Homer Il. 1.131, et al.; Od. 1.113, et al.199 Original Context Plato Rep. 6.501a9-b7 Οὐκοῦν μετὰ ταῦτα οἴει ὑπογράψασθαι ἂν τὸ σχῆμα τῆς πολιτείας; Τί μήν; Ἔπειτα οἶμαι ἀπεργαζόμενοι πυκνὰ ἂν ἑκατέρωσ’ ἀποβλέποιεν, πρός τε τὸ φύσει δίκαιον καὶ καλὸν καὶ σῶφρον καὶ πάντα τὰ τοιαῦτα, καὶ πρὸς ἐκεῖν’ αὖ τὸ ἐν τοῖς ἀνθρώποις ἐμποιοῖεν, συμμειγνύντες τε καὶ κεραννύντες ἐκ τῶν ἐπιτηδευμάτων τὸ ἀνδρείκελον, ἀπ’ ἐκείνου τεκμαιρόμενοι, ὃ δὴ καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐκάλεσεν ἐν τοῖς ἀνθρώποις ἐγγιγνόμενον [θεοειδές τε καὶ θεοείκελον.]

10 b

5

[Socrates:] “Then don’t you think they’d next sketch the outline of the constitution?” [Adeimantus:] “Of course.” “And I suppose that, as they work, they’d look often in each direction, towards the natures of justice, beauty, moderation, and the like, on the one hand, and towards those they’re trying to put into human beings, on the other. And in this way they’d mix and blend the various ways of life in the city until they’d produced a human image based on what Homer too called [‘the divine form and image’] when it occurred among human beings.” Homer Il. 1.130-134 τὸν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων· μὴ δ᾽ οὕτως ἀγαθός περ ἐὼν [θεοείκελ᾽] Ἀχιλλεῦ κλέπτε νόῳ, ἐπεὶ οὐ παρελεύσεαι οὐδέ με πείσεις. ἦ ἐθέλεις ὄφρ᾽ αὐτὸς ἔχῃς γέρας, αὐτὰρ ἔμ᾽ αὔτως ἧσθαι δευόμενον, κέλεαι δέ με τήνδ᾽ ἀποδοῦναι;

130

In answer to him spoke lord Agamemnon: “Do not thus, mighty though you are, [godlike] Achilles, seek to deceive me with your wit; for you will not get by me nor persuade me. Are you willing, so that you yourself may keep your prize, for me to sit here idly in want, while you order me to give her back?”

199

Forms of Θεοειδής in Homer appear 44 times as follows: Il. 2.623; 862; 3.16; 27; 30; 37; 58; 450; 6.290; 332; 517; 11.581; 12.94; 13.774; 17.494, 534; 19.327; 24.217; 299; 372; 386; 405; 483; 552; 634; 659; 763; Od. 1.113; 3.343; 4.628; 6.7; 7.231; 10.205; 14.173; 15.271; 508; 16.20; 17.151; 328; 391; 20.350; 363; 21.186; 277. Forms of Θεοείκελος appear five times as follows: Il. 1.131; 19.155; Od. 3.416; 4.276; 8.256.

145 Homer Od. 1.113-117 τὴν δὲ πολὺ πρῶτος ἴδε Τηλέμαχος [θεοειδής,] ἧστο γὰρ ἐν μνηστῆρσι φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ, ὀσσόμενος πατέρ᾽ ἐσθλὸν ἐνὶ φρεσίν, εἴ ποθεν ἐλθὼν 115 μνηστήρων τῶν μὲν σκέδασιν κατὰ δώματα θείη, τιμὴν δ᾽ αὐτὸς ἔχοι καὶ δώμασιν οἷσιν ἀνάσσοι. Her the [godlike] Telemachus was far the first to see, for he was sitting among the wooers, sad at heart, seeing in thought his noble father, should he perchance come from somewhere and make a scattering of the wooers in the palace, and himself win honor and rule over his own house. Interpretation Given Plato’s fundamental disagreements with Homer’s depictions of the gods, it is no wonder that Plato takes particular issue with one of Homer’s standard epithets, “godlike” (θεοειδής or θεοείκελος). In the Republic, Plato uses Homer’s θεοειδής and θεοείκελος to describe the “godlike” nature a city would possess if its philosophical founders, like painters, were to use the cardinal virtues as models when they mixed the characters of men together as an artist mixes colors.200 This analogy serves as a lynchpin to the Republic as a whole, drawing out the pedagogic and practical implications of mimesis, contrasting strongly the “false” and dangerous mimesis of poetry and the arts (perhaps including rhetoric and sophistry as well) with the “true” and useful mimesis of philosophy. As Socrates describes the philosopher at Rep. 6.500c2-5: As he looks at and studies things that are organized and always the same, that neither do injustice to one another nor suffer it, being all in a rational order, he imitates [μιμεῖσθαι, c5] them and tries to become as like them [ἀφομοιοῦσθαι, c5] as he can.

200

Socrates first alludes to the idea of being “god-like” – though avoids the precise epic phrasing – at Rep. 6.497b-c. Here he explains that only in a state with “the best constitution” (τὴν ἀρίστην πολιτείαν, b7) can a philosophic nature show that it is “really divine” (τῷ ὄ́ντι θεῖον, c1-2); other natures and ways of life, however, in all instances are “merely human” (ἀνθρώπινα, c2).

146 Here Plato offers an implicit condemnation of the arts on two fronts: not only do they imitate falsely by imitating mere images rather than absolute realities (as philosophy does), but they damage their listeners, who imitate such false imitations. Plato does not allow for the possibility that people can admire art without feeling the need to imitate it, nor does he allow for the possibility that art can teach through the use of negative exemplars.201 So, as Plato presents the arts, we cannot admire Odysseus’ skill at lying, without wanting to become liars ourselves. Is this understanding of art fair or accurate? Hardly. But Plato’s point is to show that poetry is potentially dangerous, if it is not received in the right way. It has the potential to shut down reason, to elevate to the status of heroes men of corrupt character, and to encourage the belief in unjust, deceitful gods; philosophy, however, gives reason pride of place. According to a philosophic worldview, good men are honored and the cosmos is ordered by a just deity. Now while Adam reads Plato’s use of the epithet “godlike” as an endorsement of Homer in Plato, such a reading could not be further from the truth.202 For one, as we have demonstrated, Plato and Homer have a vastly different conception of the divine. To be called “godlike” in the sense of resembling the character of a Homeric god would be an insult for Plato. It could mean nothing more than that he is adulterous, vindictive, deceitful, and so on. But while Plato takes “godlike” primarily in a moral sense, in Homer the epithet primarily serves the purpose of describing the appearance of a given person, usually of a young, handsome, untested hero, who, 201

He may, of course, allow for the latter possibility implicitly, given his use of “dangerous” poetic texts to teach. As Havelock ([1963] 1982) and others have maintained, this may result from the circumstances of the oral performance of poetry (and the largely illiterate audience) who had no choice but to submit to the rhythm and dance of the performance, to sympathize entirely with the character(s). On this understanding of mimesis, see Havelock ([1963] 1982, esp. 147 ff). 202 Adam ([1902] 2010, ad θεοείκελον) writes, “It is pleasing to meet with so cordial and spontaneous an acknowledgment of Homer as a kindred spirit in a passage so full of Plato’s characteristic idealism.”

147 unlike more established heroes, cannot be singled out for any particular excellence besides his noble birth and good looks.203 In fact, of the 45 times the godlike epithets θεοειδής and θεοείκελος are used in Homer, they are used as stock epithets204 most frequently to refer to such beautiful youths as Paris (12 times)205 and Telemachus (7 times).206 Richard Martin reads the use of these epithets as crucial in developing the characterization of these young men, as a means of contrasting their appearance versus their actual substance.207 In the case of Paris, the beauty of his body is not borne out by the excellence of his conduct in battle; Hector points out Paris’ failings in this respect at Il. 3.39-45, after Paris becomes terrified by the Greek onslaught: Evil Paris, beautiful [εἶδος ἄριστε, 39], woman-crazy, cajoling, better had you never been born, or killed unwedded. Truly I could have wished it so; it would be far better than to have you with us to our shame, for others to sneer at. Surely now the flowinghaired Achaeans laugh at us, thinking you are the bravest champion, only because your looks are handsome [καλὸν εἶδος, 44-5], but there is no strength in your heart, no courage.

203

As Martin (1993, 232) takes the use of the epithet, “throughout the Iliad mentioning another’s eidos can be a way of implying that the warrior in question has not got the mettle to survive.” There are times, however, when the epithet θεοειδής in particular seems to have some, albeit weak, connection to excellence in battle. Achilles, for example, is referred to as “godlike” twice, in reference to his excellence in battle (cf. θεοείκελ’ at Il. 1.131 and 19.155). 204 I do not mean to imply here, as some readers of Parry have suggested, that epithets occur as mere “padding,” as a means for the poet to fill out a verse in meter with little thought as to the meaning or importance of a given epithet. It is clear, however, that some epithets are more functional or meaningful than others in their actual context in the passages in which they occur. 205 Cf. θεοειδής (in its various forms) at Il. 3.16; 27; 30; 37; 58; 450; 6.290; 332; 517; 11.581; 13.774; 24.763. In general, Priam’s family is the most “godlike,” if you will, of the characters of Homeric epic. Priam himself is referred to as “godlike” with some frequency (cf. Il. 24.217; 299; 634; 659). His son Chromius is as well at Il. 17.534, as is Deiphobus at Il. 12.94 and Od. 4.276. Besides Priam, the only other character in the epics who receives the epithet godlike while also being advanced in age is Alcinous at Od. 7.231 (cf. also θεοείκελος applied to Alcinous at Od. 8.256). Still the overwhelming pattern is that of youths, including Aretus Il. 17.494, Neoptolemus Il. 19.327, Nausithous Od. 6.7, and Eurylochus Od. 10.205. 206 Cf. θεοειδής at Od. 1.113; 3.343; 14.173; 16.20; 17.328; 391; cf. θεοείκελον at Od. 3.416. 207 Martin 1993, 234.

148 Hector stresses here the false promise of Paris’ beautiful form (εἶδος 39, 45). Homer, like Plato, is very much interested in the truth behind appearances; he has his own Theory of Forms, if you will. Yet ultimately, for Plato’s taste, he has too strong an interest in the superficial form, the appearance of the thing rather than the thing itself, to be reconciled with Plato’s way of thinking. In contrast to Paris, Telemachus very much lives up to the promise of his good looks. When the reader is first introduced to Telemachus in the epic, we are encouraged to admire his fine physical form. Later, Eumaeus does the same thing as at Od. 14.173, he praises Telemachus’ bodily form (εἶδος) and physical stature (δέμας). Martin takes the use of the epithet θεοειδής to describe Telemachus to be a kind of warning to the listener that Telemachus could turn out as another Paris: all potential with no real substance.208 Instead, Telemachus behaves more like the Phaeacian youth Euryalus, who, while rebuked for his arrogance towards Odysseus at first in Book 8 of the Odyssey, later makes amends. Note that Odysseus’ speech to Euryalus, like that of Hector’s to Paris above, focuses on the false nature of “appearance” (εἶδος): Stranger, you have not spoken well; you are as one blind with folly. So true is it that the gods do not give gracious gifts to all alike, not stature nor mind nor eloquence. For one man is inferior in form [εἶδος, 169], but the god sets a crown of beauty upon his words, and men look upon him with delight, and he speaks on unfalteringly with sweet modesty, and is conspicuous among the gathered people, and as he goes through the city men gaze upon him as upon a god. Another again is in form [εἶδος, 174] like the immortals [ἀλίγκιος ἀθανάτοισιν, 174], but no crown of grace is set about his words. So, in your case, your form [εἶδος, 174] is preeminent, nor could a god himself mend it, but in mind you are stunted.

208

On the process of Telemachus’ education and development as a character see esp. J. H. Finley (1978) and Tracy (1990, 3-26).

149 While in Homer one who is godlike may have potential to become excellent in the Homeric sense of being a fear-inspiring warrior or man of action, his moral excellence in general is not such as would cause Plato to call him “godlike” according to his understanding of the term. In fact, many of the young men called “godlike” in Homer display what to Plato would be termed morally reprehensible behavior. While the character Theoclymenus, for example, is rehabilitated in a sense like Euryalus, he is still a murderer; yet all the same he is referred to as “godlike” no less than five times in the Odyssey.209 Moreover, the malicious and manipulative suitors Eurymachus (at Od. 4.628 and 21.186) and Antinous (at Od. 21.277) are called “godlike” in Homer as well. Thus, while Homer, like Plato, explores the difference between the human and divine and the gap between appearance and reality, he employs the words θεοειδής and θεοείκελος in a fundamentally different way from Plato. Plato, moreover, unlike Homer, sees the gap between the human and divine as something that it is worthy to attempt to narrow as much as possible.210 For Homer, however, the gap cannot be bridged, a principle perhaps best epitomized by the words Apollo delivers to Diomedes at Il. 5.440-442: Take care, son of Tydeus, and give place, neither be you minded to be like the gods [θεοῖσιν ἶσ’, 440-41] in thought; seeing in no wise of like sort [φῦλος ὁμοῖον, 441] is the race of immortal gods and that of men who walk upon the earth. Plato, however, offers an infinitely more hopeful vision. To become a philosopher is to do exactly that which Apollo warns above is impossible, namely to cultivate the divine aspect of one’s humanity, the rational mind.211 As Socrates puts it to Glaucon at Rep. 9.589c8-d3:

209

Cf. θεοειδής at Od. 15.271; 508; 17.151; 20.350; 362. Cf. Rep. 6.500c-d; Theat. 173e. 211 On the “divine philosopher,” see esp. Rep. 6.500c-d. See also Phaedr. 249c, Tim. 90a, and Laws 7.818b-c. 210

150 Fine things [τὰ ... καλὰ, c8] are those that subordinate the beastlike parts of our nature to the human – or better, perhaps, to the divine; shameful ones are those that enslave the gentle [τὸ ἥμερον, d2] to the savage [τῷ ἀγρίῳ, d2]. While Homer, like the painter Socrates imagines above, is ultimately concerned with – even mired in – appearances, the way that they may or may not bear themselves out in reality, Plato is concerned with the reality behind appearances in the first place. A godlike city in Homer would be beautiful to look at, perhaps even favored by the gods (or at least a select cohort of them), a poetic eidos with surface appeal. In Plato, on the other hand, a godlike city has a philosophic eidos, imitating the divine order of god himself. It would work perfectly in harmony, with each element performing that function for which it is best suited. Still, in Plato, such a city is only theoretical. Socrates’ city-in-speech, like the young Telemachus, is nothing but potential. Thus, while Homer and Plato both explore the divine potential of humanity, in Plato’s opinion, Homer, with his “false” theology, is still but a painter, one who draws his sketches of human nature in human terms. A philosopher, in contrast, aims at the “forms themselves” (εἴδη αὐτὰ), rather than mere “appearances” (εἴδη).

Allusion 5: Plato Rep. 6.486b11-12 : Homer Od. 6.120; 8.575; 9.175; 13.201 (Cf. Homer Od. 1.198-199; Plato Gorgias 516c3) Original Context Plato Rep. 6.486b10-12 Καὶ τοῦτο δὴ ψυχὴν σκοπῶν φιλόσοφον καὶ μὴ εὐθὺς νέου ὄντος ἐπισκέψῃ, εἰ ἄρα [δικαία τε καὶ ἥμερος ἢ δυσκοινώνητος καὶ ἀγρία.]

10

151 [Socrates:] “Moreover, when you are looking to see whether a soul is philosophic or not, you’ll look to see from youth on whether it is [just and gentle or savage and wild.”] Homer Od. 6.119-121 (= Od. 13.200-203) “ὤ μοι ἐγώ, τέων αὖτε βροτῶν ἐς γαῖαν ἱκάνω; ἦ ῥ᾽ οἵ γ᾽ [ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,] ἦε φιλόξεινοι καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής;

120

[Odysseus:] “Woe is me! To the land of what mortals am I now come? Are they [cruel, and wild, and unjust?] or do they love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts?” Homer Od. 9.170-176 (Od. 9.175-176 = Od. 6.120-121 = Od. 13.202-203 ἦμος δ᾽ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς, 170 καὶ τότ᾽ ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ πᾶσιν ἔειπον· “‘ἄλλοι μὲν νῦν μίμνετ᾽, ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ σὺν νηί τ᾽ ἐμῇ καὶ ἐμοῖς ἑτάροισιν ἐλθὼν τῶνδ᾽ ἀνδρῶν πειρήσομαι, οἵ τινές εἰσιν, ἤ ῥ᾽ οἵ γ᾽ [ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,] 175 ἦε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.’ And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, I called my men together and spoke among them all: “‘Remain here now, all the rest of you, my trusty comrades, but I with my own ship and my own company will go and make trial of yonder men, to learn who they are, [175] whether they are [cruel, and wild, and unjust,] or whether they love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts.’ Homer Od. 8.572-576 ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε μοι τόδε εἰπὲ καὶ ἀτρεκέως κατάλεξον, ὅππῃ ἀπεπλάγχθης τε καὶ ἅς τινας ἵκεο χώρας ἀνθρώπων, αὐτούς τε πόλιάς τ᾽ ἐὺ ναιετοώσας, ἠμὲν ὅσοι [χαλεποί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,] οἵ τε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.

575

But come, now, tell me this and declare it truly: whither have you wandered and to what countries of men have you gone; tell me of the people and of their well-built cities, both of those who are [cruel and wild and unjust,] and of those who love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts.

152 Interpretive Context As in the citation immediately above, here Plato again takes a well-known Homeric phrase – in this case a classic dichotomy – and reinterprets it. The dichotomy in question is one that appears in the Odyssey with some frequency (Od. 6.120; 8.575; 9.175; 13.201; 17.363), that of savagery versus civility. In Homer, the dichotomy appears whenever Odysseys lands in a new, strange place, inquiring whether its inhabitants are savage or civil. Plato takes over the Homeric dichotomy and applies it to the character of the would-be leaders of Socrates’ ideal Republic, the philosopher-kings. Like a good, Homeric polis, a philosopher-king in Plato, then, must possess a civil rather than a savage character, if his polis is to achieve its ideal form. This Homeric dichotomy appears in Book 6 of the Republic after Socrates has concluded a discussion with Glaucon about the differences between philosophers and non-philosophers. Socrates determines at Rep. 6.484b that given their civil character, philosophers are better suited to rule than non-philosophers. He clarifies his position by introducing another painting metaphor (the very metaphor which is further developed in Quotation 7 immediately above). Socrates says at Rep. 6.484c7-d7: [Socrates:] “[Non-philosophers] have no clear model in their souls, and so they cannot – in the manner of painters – look to what is most true [ἀληθέστατον, c9], make constant reference to it, and study it as exactly as possible. Hence they cannot establish here on earth conventions about what is fine [καλῶν, d2] or just [δικαίων, d2] or good [ἀγαθῶν, d2], when they need to be established, or guard and preserve them, once they have been established ... should we, then, make these blind people our guardians or rather those who know each thing that is and who are not inferior to the others, either in experience or in any other part of virtue?” [Glaucon:] “It would be absurd to choose anyone but philosophers.” Next, Socrates defines the various virtues that a philosophic nature would possess: wisdomloving, truth-loving, moderation, courage, and so on. As we shall see in Chapter 3, the

153 philosophic man turns out to be the polar opposite of the greatest of the poetic heroes, Achilles, whose lack of moderation, love of money, and fear of death is so vigorously attacked in Republic 3. At any rate, Socrates tells Glaucon at Rep. 6.486b11-12 that one way to test whether a soul is philosophic or not is to see “from youth on whether it is just [δικαία, b11] and gentle [ἥμερος, b11] or savage δυσκοινώνητος, b11-12] and wild [ἀγρία, b12].” Thus, Socrates describes the philosophic soul in terms that would have applied in Homer to a safe-haven, a place in which civilization reigns, where xenia will be granted to the passing stranger.212 The dichotomy between civility and savagery in Homer first appears in Odyssey Book 6. Odysseus awakes, finding himself among the Phaeacians on the island of Scheria, and wonders about the nature of the people in this new land. The irony is that while Odysseus naturally hopes to find civil people,213 he himself is thoroughly savage. Indeed he is hardly human at this point. Homer, in fact, compares him to a mountain lion at Od. 6.131-134: with his two eyes ablaze, who goes forth into the midst of the herds or flocks, or on the track of wild deer, and his belly bids him to go even into the close-built fold, to make an attack upon the flocks. We can imagine Plato contemplating a passage such as this, seeing the extent to which the psychic harmony of Odysseus has been disturbed. At any rate, Odysseus is hardly in a state that would allow him to draw distinctions about the nature of human society. Not only is he hardly a man himself, but he does not know mankind when he sees it, wondering as he does upon seeing Nausicaa and her companions whether they are divine or mortal (cf. Od. 6.149). 212

Plato’s language is not identical to Homer’s here, though it is synonymous, a point which will be discussed in detail under Textual Differences below. 213 The Phaeacians are quite civil, but also quite bungling in their attempts to observe properly all aspects of xenia. For an in-depth treatment of this position see Kakridis (1963), M. I. Finley ([1965] 2002, 116-7), and Rose (1969).

154 The formulaic phrase concerning civility versus savagery appears once more regarding Phaeacia, this time in slightly altered form (see Original Context above) when Alcinous asks Odysseus – after Odysseus has revealed his true identity – about “whither [he] has wandered and to what countries of men [he] has come ... their well-built cities, both of those who are cruel and wild and unjust, and of those who love strangers and fear the gods in their thoughts” (Od. 8.573875). When Odysseus lands on the island of the Cyclopes, Homer offers us a foil to the civility of Phaeacia,214 signaled in the first place by Odysseus repeating the same lines on civility and savagery as he did upon landing in Phaeacia. Among the Cyclopes, however, he will meet inhabitants who precisely invert every aspect of xenia the Phaeacians observed so closely (or perhaps too closely), down to Polyphemus feeding on rather than simply feeding his guests, and so on. Finally, at Od. 13.201, Odysseus lands on yet another island: Ithaca. He is so confused upon landing on his own home isle, however, that he does not recognize it at first. At this point in the epic, he is so far removed from his true identity or εἶδος – somewhat a result of his own disguises, both in speech and appearance – that his own home seems to be a foreign place. In part, Odysseus is right not to recognize Ithaca. Without him as king, the nature of the place has changed entirely. While xenia would have been carefully observed before,215 without Odysseus present, the suitors work to thoroughly pervert the conventions of xenia as guests, nearly as 214

On the contrast between the Cyclopes and Phaeacians in this respect, see Reece (1996, 2035); Reece notes how the Phaeacians and the Cyclopes used to be neighbors (cf. Od. 6.2-6; 7.2056) and are both the offspring of Poseidon (cf. Od. 7.56-68; 9.517-19, 526-29). On the failed xenia of the Cyclopes in general, see Kirk (1970, 162-71), Reece (1996, 203-5), and Gera (2003). 215 It is, of course, still the rule among his loyal swineherd Eumaeus; Penelope and Telemachus are also gracious hosts of Odysseus-beggar.

155 much as Polyphemus violates the conventions of xenia as a host,216 devouring the resources of Odysseus’ household nearly entirely. Textual Differences Plato’s text is certainly not identical to that of Homer’s, nor should it be expected to be, given that we are dealing with an allusion rather than a quotation. What seems to be fairly clear, however, is that Plato does have Homer in mind when he discusses the civility and savagery dichotomy. Definitive evidence comes in the form of another reference to this Homeric dichotomy at Gorgias 516c3:217 [Socrates:] Now as Homer says, the just [δίκαιοι] are gentle [ἥμεροι]. Here, despite the fact that the citation is even further removed from the Homeric original than the passage we are studying in the Republic, the Platonic line is attributed directly to Homer. Scholars without exception have taken the citation to refer to Od. 6.120 (= 9.175; 13.201; Od. 8.574).218 Let us consider below, then, the force of some of the differences between Homer’s and Plato’s presentation of the dichotomy of civility and savagery.

216

For a comparison of the perversions of xenia carried out by Polyphemus and the suitors, see Reece (1996, 173 ff.). 217 At this point in the Gorgias, Socrates is discussing politicians, such as Pericles, who are failures because rather than inculcating justice in the people who were under their care, they have somehow made them even more unjust. Their failure is that they approach rule in a nonphilosophic manner, nourishing the body rather than the soul. 218 The allusion was originally identified by Ludwich (1898, 120), who was followed directly by T. Allen (1924, 256), Labarbe (1949, 311), et al. Labarbe is the first to have argued that Rep. 6.486b11-12 also refers to the same Homeric lines. There also seems to be a slight allusion, or at least an echo of this sentiment, which previous scholars have not pointed out, at Od. 1.196-99, where Athene, disguised as Mentor, speculates about Odysseus’ whereabouts: “For not yet has goodly Odysseus perished on the earth, but still, I ween, he lives and is held back on the broad

156

Plato Rep. 6.486b11-12 εἰ ἄρα [δικαία τε καὶ ἥμερος ἢ δυσκοινώνητος καὶ ἀγρία.] Plato Gorg. 516c3 οὐκοῦν οἵ γε [δίκαιοι ἥμεροι,] ὡς ἔφη Ὅμηρος· Homer Od. 6.120-121 = 9.175-176 = 13.201-202 ἤ ῥ᾽ οἵ γ᾽ [ὑβρισταί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,] ἦε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.’ Homer Od. 8.575-576 ἠμὲν ὅσοι [χαλεποί τε καὶ ἄγριοι οὐδὲ δίκαιοι,] οἵ τε φιλόξεινοι, καί σφιν νόος ἐστὶ θεουδής.

120

575

Homer presents the dichotomy between civility and savagery in purely negative terms in the lines cited directly above, describing men who may be “violent/unrestrained” (ὑβρισταί), “severe” (χαλεποί), “wild/savage” (ἄγριοι), and “not just/civilized” (οὐδὲ δίκαιοι); it is only in the second line that he offers the positive terms “hospitable” (φιλόξεινοι) and “god-fearing” (θεουδής). Plato presents the dichotomy in a more compressed way, beginning and ending it in the Republic using the Homeric terms δικαία and ἀγρία, though in the case of δικαία – as is typical in Plato – he uses the term in a way that is quite different from its sense in Homer (see 1 immediately below). Plato does introduce two “new words” – ἥμερος ἢ δυσκοινώνητος – that I shall discuss below individually.

sea in a sea-girt isle, and cruel men [χαλεποὶ, 198] keep him, a savage folk [ἄγριοι, 199] that constrain him, haply sore against his will.”

157 1) δικαία (b11) : δίκαιοι (120, et al.) Despite the fact that Plato and Homer both use forms of the adjective δικαίος, their understanding of the meaning of the word is quite distinct, as many scholars have pointed out before. 219 While in Homer, Odysseus is merely hoping to find a people in his travels who are “just” in the sense that they are humane and hospitable, Plato uses the word “just” in an altogether difference sense. Plato means “just” in the sense of harmoniously balanced, specifically with the potentially savage elements of one’s character moderated or controlled by reason. It is perhaps no wonder that Homer and Plato use the same word so differently. We have already seen above, for example, their different uses of the word σοφός.220 There is also the fact that there is not even a word for “justice” as a concept until Herodotus’ use of δικαιοσύνη; even then the word is rare until it becomes more fully articulated and defined in Plato’s Republic. 2) ἥμερος ... ἀγρία (b11-12) The adjective ἥμερος appears only once in Homer, at Od. 15.162 to describe “tame” fowl.221 It happens to be a fairly common word for Plato, however, and key to his description of the just and philosophic character (of both city and individual). At Rep. 5.470e7, the city-in-speech that Socrates and Glaucon are founding is described first and foremost as ἀγαθός and ἥμερος. At Rep. 9.571c4, Socrates describes the rational part of the soul – the part of the soul that the true 219

On this point, see, e.g., Robb (1994, esp. 119). See also Havelock (1978, esp. 181), who argues that justice as a principle is absent from Homer and that it does not emerge in this sense until Plato. See also Hart (1994, esp. 110) on the pivotal role that writing plays in the transition from “the prelegal to the legal.” 220 Cf. Textual Differences for Paraphrase 1. 221 See T. Allen (1924, 256) who makes the rather strange observation that ἥμερος is never applied to people in Homer. Perhaps it would have been better simply to say that it is used once, to describe “tame” fowl.

158 philosopher must most carefully cultivate –as both ruling and “gentle” (ἥμερον, c4). The prominence of the adjective “gentle” (ἥμερος) should come as no surprise in these contexts, as we learned earlier at Rep. 3.410d – recall Quotation 2 above – “gentleness” (ἡμερότητος) is specifically that quality which brings “the rational part” (τὸ φιλόσοφον) of the soul into proper balance. In a gentle, philosophic character, savagery is held at bay.222 Indeed, were it not for the Gorgias reference, I would be tempted to say that Plato does not even have Homer at mind at Rep. 6.486b11-12 when he contrasts ἥμερος and ἄγριος; the contrast on its own is so crucial to the Republic itself, regardless of how it operates as a poetic reference.223 Plato, then, refers here to a Homeric dichotomy, but does so within the vast, conceptual framework of his own argument. He does not take savagery in a conventional sense as Homer does, but rather in a strict philosophic sense, as a corrupting agent in both the individual and the city, something which, in overcoming gentleness, causes reason to be overthrown, and with it all hopes of civility and civilization.

222

Other references to gentleness in the Republic not discussed elsewhere include Rep. 9.591b, where an unjust man caught being unjust “is calmed” (ἡμεροῦται, b3), the “gentle” (ἥμερον, b3) part of him freed, so that his entire soul settles into its best nature. See Rep. 8.554d, where the money-lover is described as one who will not manage his evil appetites by “taming” (ἡμερῶν, d2) them, but rather by compulsion and fear. 223 The main characteristics of the mixed aristocratic-oligarchic constitution at Rep. 8.549a are described as being harsh (ἄγριος, a1) to slaves but gentle (ἥμερος, a3) to freemen; at Rep. 9.571c, the soul is the rational, “gentle” (ἥμερον, c4), ruling part of the soul; the desiring part is beastly and “savage” (ἄγριον, c5); at Rep 9.588c ff. in describing the tripartite soul with the metaphor of a multi-formed beast, Socrates describes it as a collection of “gentle” (ἡμέρων, c8) and “savage” (ἀγρίων, c9) animals; at Rep. 9.589b, Socrates urges us to feed and care for the “gentle” (ἥμερα, b2) heads but not the “savage” (ἄγρια, b3) ones; at Rep. 9.589d, Socrates says that “fine things are those that subordinate the beastlike parts of our nature to the human – or better, perhaps, to the divine; shameful ones are those that enslave the “gentle” (ἥμερον, d2) to the “savage” (τῷ ἀγρίῳ, d2); finally at Rep. 10.620d at the very end of the Republic, in the Myth of Er, unjust people turn into “wild” (ἄγρια, d4) animals and just people into “tame” (ἥμερα, d5) ones.

159 3) δυσκοινώνητος (b11-12) : φιλόξεινοι (121, et al.) δυσκοινώνητος appears nowhere in Homer. Indeed, this should not be a surprise given that the Homeric equivalent of κοινός is ξυνός. Plato’s “unsociable” (δυσκοινώνητος) does appear, however, to be a rough Platonic antonym to Homer’s “hospitable” (φιλόξεινοι, 121, et al.); it also roughly covers the same semantic range as ὑβρισταί or χαλεποί, which are little more than synonyms of ἄγριοι anyway. It is significant that Plato makes no mention of xenia here. He does note that philosophers and their societies will not be antisocial, but goes no further than this. Xenia in the Republic has been superseded by larger concerns for overall societal good. Plato through his theology has also eliminated any kind of superstitious basis for xenia anyway; if the gods do not disguise themselves, then the beggar who appears at the doorstep is just that. Recall as well that the original definition that Socrates offers, albeit playfully, of a philosophic nature at Rep. 2.375e is to be dog-like, namely to welcome that which one knows already, but to treat as an enemy that which one does not.

Allusion 6 : Plato Rep. 3.388a6 (Cf. Quotation 20); 391c1 : Homer Il. 1.413-418;495-496; 4.512; 9.410; 13.350; 16.34; 37; 51; 860; 18.54-64; 85-87; 332; 432-435; 19.4; 8; 20.207; 21.189; 24.59; 85 (Cf. Hesiod Theogony 1006-1007) Allusion 7 : Plato Rep. 3.391c1-2 : Homer Il. 9.252-258; 16.33; 18.18; 85-87; 331; 432-435; 20.206; 21.189; 22.420-421; 24.60-61 (Cf. Pindar Nemean 4.54-68; 5.25-37) Allusion 8 : Plato Rep. 3.391c1-3 : Homer Il. 21.185 & Allusion 9 : Plato Rep. 3.391c1-3 : Homer Il. 11.827-831; 16.140-144; 19.387-391 (Cf. Pindar Nemean 3.43-49; Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 926-927)

160 Interpretive Context The following allusions do not recall specific Homeric phrasing, and – besides being concerned primarily with Homer’s Achilles – do not all even recall episodes or characters that are in all cases explicitly Homeric. With that said, an interpretation of the meaning of these references will be held to a minimum; Homer as a potential source of these citations, however, will be explored as thoroughly as possible. The main point of the allusion that Plato makes to Achilles here is to explore the validity of the Platonic thesis that nobility (as arising from the high circumstances of one’s birth) and proper upbringing and education ought inevitably to yield excellence of character.224 Socrates argues that Achilles, who, according to poetic tradition, had all of these advantages – and is ostensibly set-up as a “great man” worthy of imitation – is a poor role model as he possesses the vices both of “greed” (ἀνελευθερίαν, c5) and “overweening arrogance” (ὑπερηφανίαν, c5).225 These allusions come in the context of Socrates’ thorough dismantling of Achilles’ character in the course of Book 3 of the Republic, the content of which will be explored fully in the following chapter. Implicitly on trial, then, are not so much Achilles’ educators, namely his parents and Cheiron,226 but Homer and the misinterpreters of the poetic tradition itself. A classic Platonic question is: “Can virtue be taught?”227 While an explicit answer is never offered in Plato’s corpus, it is clear enough that if virtue can be taught, the example and (philosophical) methods of Socrates at least suggest a place to begin. Homer

224

At Lesser Hipp. 371d, Plato again cites Achilles’ education under Cheiron as evidence that he must have been intelligent enough not to confuse whether he was staying at Troy or leaving! 225 For more on how Achilles’ disobedience and arrogance makes him a dangerous role model, see Hobbs (1990, 121). 226 See Menex. on how noble fathers often do not raise noble sons. 227 Cf. Prot. esp. 316b-320c; Meno; see also Beck (1964, 200).

161 perhaps can even be used to teach virtue, provided that characters like Achilles are viewed as negative exemplars. Original Context Allusion 6 Plato Rep. 3.388a5-8 Πάλιν δὴ Ὁμήρου τε δεησόμεθα καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ποιητῶν μὴ ποιεῖν [Ἀχιλλέα θεᾶς παῖδα]-ἄλλοτ’ ἐπὶ πλευρᾶς κατακείμενον, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ὕπτιον, ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνῆ,228

5

[Socrates to Adeimantus:] “Again, then, we’ll ask Homer and the other poets not to represent [Achilles, the son of a goddess,] as lying now upon his side, now upon his back, and now upon his face; Allusions 6-9 Plato Rep. 3.391b7-c6 οὐδ’ ἐάσομεν πείθεσθαι τοὺς ἡμετέρους ὡς [Ἀχιλλεύς,229 [(6) θεᾶς ((7) ὢν παῖς] καὶ ((7) Πηλέως, σωφρονεστάτου) τε καὶ [(8) τρίτου ἀπὸ Διός,] καὶ [(9) ὑπὸ τῷ σοφωτάτῳ Χείρωνι τεθραμμένος,] τοσαύτης ἦν ταραχῆς πλέως, ὥστ’ ἔχειν ἐν αὑτῷ νοσήματε δύο ἐναντίω ἀλλήλοιν, ἀνελευθερίαν μετὰ φιλοχρηματίας καὶ αὖ ὑπερηφανίαν θεῶν τε καὶ ἀνθρώπων.

c

[Socrates:] “Nor will we allow our people to believe that Achilles, who was [(6) the son of a goddess and of [(7) Peleus] (the most moderate of men [σωφρονεστάτου, c1], and [(8) the grandson of Zeus,)] and who was [(9) brought up by the most wise [σοφωτάτῳ, c3] Cheiron,] was so full of inner turmoil as to have two diseases in his soul – slavishness accompanied by the love of money, on the one hand, and arrogance towards gods and men, one the other.” Allusion 6: “Achilles was the son of a goddess” (Ἀχιλλεύς, θεᾶς ὢν παῖς, c1) [Il. 1.413-418; 495-496; 4.512; 9.410; 13.350; 16.34; 37; 51; 860; 18.54-64; 85-87; 332; 228 229

The quoted material makes up the content of Quotation 20 below. The word Ἀχιλλεύς is to be distributed across all of the citations listed.

162 432-435; 19.4; 8; 20.207; 21.189; 24.59;85; cf. Hesiod Th. 1006-1007] The first reference to Thetis as Achilles’ mother comes at Il. 1.413-418 where Thetis laments Achilles’ fate: “Ah me, my child. Your birth was bitterness. Why did I raise you ... to a bad destiny I bore you in my chambers.” While Thetis is often referred to as the mother of Achilles singularly, often she is inextricably bound to Achilles’ other parent, Peleus. Hera, for example, mentions them as a pair at Il. 24.59-63: Achilles is the child of a goddess [Ἀχιλλεύς ἐστι θεᾶς γόνος, 59] whom I myself nourished and reared and gave to a warrior to be his wife, even to Peleus, who was heartily dear to the immortals. And all of you, O gods, came to her marriage. A particularly interesting reference to Achilles’ birth is put into the mouth of Patroclus at Il. 16.33-35. Here Patroclus comments on the pitilessness of Achilles in the face of the Greeks’ slaughter: “the horseman Peleus was not your father [οὐκ ἄρα σοί γε πατὴρ ἦν ἱππότα Πηλεύς, 33], nor was Thetis your mother [οὐδὲ Θέτις μήτηρ, 34], but the grey sea bare you and the towering cliffs, so sheer is the heart in you turned from us.” Later, following the death of Patroclus, Achilles in a similar manner wishes that Peleus and Thetis were not his parents at Il. 18.82-87: Hector ... has stripped ... that fair armor, huge of size, a wonder to behold, which the gods gave as a glorious gift to Peleus on the day when they laid you [Thetis] in the bed of a mortal man. Would that you had remained where you were amid the immortal maidens of the sea, and that Peleus had taken to his home a mortal bride.

163 Later Thetis mirrors this sentiment at Il. 18.432-435 saying how she lay with the mortal Peleus against her will.230 When Achilles and Aeneas meet in combat, Aeneas at Il. 20.206-207 cites Thetis and Peleus as Achilles’ parents.

Allusion 7: “Achilles was the son of … Peleus, the most chaste of men” (Ἀχιλλεύς … ὢν παῖς Πηλέως, σωφρονεστάτου, c1-2) [Il. 9.252-254; 16.33; 18.18; 85-87; 331; 432-435; 20.206; 21.189; 22.420-421; 24.60-61; cf. Pindar Nemean 4.54-68; 5.25-37] Besides the passages noted from Allusion 6 on Peleus’ parentage of Achilles, Achilles or other characters in the epic frequently refer to Peleus as Achilles’ father. Achilles is also typically referred to in the epic as “the son of Peleus,” with the patronymic, Πηληïάδεω. I have not listed these references, however, as they are far too numerous. Peleus’ extreme chastity or his σωφρονεστάτος, as Socrates puts it in the Republic, is not explicitly noted in Homer.231 For one, neither the word σώφρων nor its cognates appear in Homer. Instead, Homer uses the epic form σαόφρων,232 a word (and its cognates) that appears only four times in Homer.233 In Homer, σαόφρων and its cognates is confined to the sense of

230

Later in the same book, at Il. 18.330-2, Achilles remarks on his parentage in a non-contra factual statement: “since neither shall I come back to be welcomed of the aged horseman Peleus in his halls, nor of my mother Thetis.” Still later at Il. 18.86-7 Achilles once again wishes Thetis had never married Peleus. 231 For other instances of the superlative σωφρονεστάτος in Plato, see Sophist 230d5, Sym. 214b4, Charm. 157d6, 175b4, and Laws 4.717d7, 5.728e3. 232 Plato is not averse to using the epic form σαόφρων in the context of quoting poetry. At Meno 96a, Socrates quotes Theognis’ contradictory lines regarding whether or not virtue can be taught, saying that Theognis claims that the son of a good man would likewise be good since “he would obey [his father’s] moderate moral precepts” (πειθόμενος μύθοισι σαόφροσιν, a1). 233 At Il. 21.461, Apollo says that he would be acting like one who is not σαόφρων were he to engage in a quarrel with Poseidon over lowly, insignificant mankind. At Od. 4.158, Peisistratus describes Telemachus as σαόφρων because he waits his turn to speak in front of Menelaus (despite the fact that Menelaus is discussing his own father, Odysseus). At Od. 23.13, Penelope

164 “restraint” or “self-control” in terms of judgment and behavior. Peleus’ proverbial “selfcontrol,” however, typically concerns his sexual restraint or chastity,234 made famous in his rejection of the advances of Acastus’ wife, Hippolyte, as famously narrated by Pindar in Nemean 4.54-68 and 5.25-37. In Pindar’s telling of the tale in Nemean 5, Zeus rewards Peleus’ chastity by arranging his marriage to Thetis. While Homer does not directly refer to Peleus’ “self-control” – the closest he comes perhaps is when he confers the epithet “wise-hearted” (δαΐφρονος) on him at Il. 18.18 –235 he does commonly set him up as a model of excellence: Achilles references Peleus’ piety at Il. 23.140 ff. when he discusses how his father had vowed upon his return home to offer a sacrifice to the river Spercheius in thanksgiving; Nestor at Il. 7.123-31 attempts to shame the Greek warriors to fight bravely by citing the example of Peleus.236 Perhaps even more convincingly than Il. 18.18 above, Odysseus cites Peleus as a paradigm of “self-control” during The Embassy scene at Il. 9.252-258. Odysseus imagines Peleus urging Achilles to hold his emotions in check, to think carefully instead: tells the nursemaid Eurycleia that she has abandoned her usual “sense of discretion” (σαοφροσύνη), in assuming (rightly) that it is Odysseus himself who has taken vengeance on the suitors. Finally, at Od. 23.30, Penelope allows herself to believe that Odysseus has returned to Ithaca when Eurycleia tells her that it was due to Telemachus’ “restraint” (σαοφροσύνη) that he did not reveal his father’s identity. 234 For a comic account of the rewards of σωφροσύνη, specifically that of Peleus, see Aristophanes (Clouds 1063). 235 Other epithets applied to Peleus in Homer include “aged horseman” (γέρων ἱππηλάτα, cf. Il. 7.125; 9.438; 11.771; 18.331), “horseman” (ἱππότα, cf. Il. 16.33; 23.89), or his patronymic, “son of Aiacus” (Αἰακιδῃ, cf. Il. 16.15; 18.433; 21.189; cf. also Plato Thg. 124c6). Peleus is also referred to by an epithet often reserved for his son, as “blameless” (Πηλῆος ἀμύμονος, Il. 20.206; Od. 11.494; 505). 236 As Nestor says: “Oh for shame. Great sorrow comes upon the land of Achaea. Verily aloud would old Peleus groan, the driver of chariots, goodly counselor, and orator of the Myrmidons ... If he were to hear that these were now all cowering before Hector then would he lift up his hands to the immortals in instant prayer that his soul might depart from his limbs into the house of Hades.”

165 Good friend, surely your father Peleus [σοί … πατὴρ ... Πηλεὺς, 252] gave command to you on the day when he sent you to Agamemnon forth from Phthia: “My son [τέκνον ἐμόν, 254], strength shall Athene and Hera give you if they be so minded, but master the proud spirit in your breast [μεγαλήτορα θυμὸν ἴσχειν ἐν στήθεσσι, 255-256], for gentle-mindedness [φιλοφροσύνη, 256] is the better part; and withdraw from strife, contriver of mischief, that so the Argives both young and old may honor you the more.” Allusion 8: “Achilles [was] the grandson of Zeus” (Ἀχιλλεύς … τρίτου ἀπὸ Διός, c1-2) [Il. 21.185] The one specific reference in Homer’s text to Achilles being Zeus’ grandson, or “the third generation from Zeus” (τρίτου ἀπὸ Διός, c2), comes at Il. 21.184-191. Here Achilles claims that his lineage is more respectable than that of the river Spercheius: Verily you declare that your birth is from the wide-flowing River, whereas I avow me to be of the lineage of great Zeus. The father that begat me is one who is lord among the many Myrmidons, even Peleus, son of Aeacus; and Aeacus was begotten of Zeus. Wherefore as Zeus is mightier than rivers that murmur seaward, so mightier too is the seed of Zeus than the seed of a river. Allusion 9: “Achilles was brought up by the most wise Cheiron” (Ἀχιλλεύς … ὑπὸ τῷ σοφωτάτῳ Χείρωνι τεθραμμένος, c1-3) [Il. 11.827-831; 16.140-144; 19.387-391; cf. Pindar Nemean 3.43-49; Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis 926-927]237 Homer is not necessarily the primary source for Achilles’ tutelage under Cheiron.238 Homer does make mention, however, of Cheiron training Achilles in the healing arts at Il. 11.827-831: But may you succor me, and lead me to my black ship, and cut the arrow from my thigh, and wash the black blood from it with warm water, and sprinkle thereon kindly simples of healing power, whereof men say that you have learned from Achilles, whom Cheiron taught, the most righteous of the Centaurs.

237 238

7).

See Allusion 29 for more on Patroclus’ healing abilities. See Pindar (Nem. 3.43-9) on Achilles’ training under Cheiron. See also Euripides (I. A. 926-

166 Achilles’ training in the art of warfare is somewhat tangentially alluded to at Il. 16.140-144:239 Only the spear of the peerless descendant of Aeacus [i.e. Achilles] he took not, the spear heavy and huge and strong; this none other of the Achaeans could wield, but Achilles alone was skilled to wield it, even the Pelian spear of ash, that Cheiron had given to his dear father from the peak of Pelion, to be for the slaying of warriors.240

239

Il. 141-4 = Il. 19.388-91. Others who speak of their own role in the training and upbringing of Achilles in the Iliad include Phoenix at Il. 9. 434-43: “If verily it is going home, glorious Achilles, that you ponder in your heart ... how can I then, dear child, be left here without you, alone? It was to you that the old horseman Peleus sent me on the day when he sent you to Agamemnon, forth from Phthia, a mere child, knowing naught as yet of evil war, neither of gatherings wherein men wax preeminent. For this cause sent he me to instruct you in all these things, to be both a speaker of words and a doer of deeds.” Thetis also talks about rearing Achilles at Il. 18.437-40: “preeminent among warriors, and he shot up like a sapling; then when I had reared him as a tree in a rich orchard plot, I sent him forth in the beaked ships to Ilios to war with the Trojans.”

240

II: CRITICISM OF POETIC LOGOS (ON GODS) Ὅμηρος γὰρ μοι δοκεῖ παραδιδοὺς τραύματα θεῶν στάσεις τιμωριάς δάκρυα δεσμὰ πάθη πάμφυρτα τοὺς μὲν ἐπὶ τῶν Ἰλιακῶν ἀνθρώπους ... θεοὺς πεποιηκέναι, τοὺς θεοὺς δὲ ἀνθρώπους. (Longinus On the Sublime 9.7) Homer seems to me, in his legends of wounds suffered by the gods, and of their feuds, reprisals, tears, bonds, and all their manifold passions, to have made gods of the men concerned in the Siege of Troy, and men of the gods.

1. The False Theology of the Poets At Republic 2.376c-d Socrates first raises the question of how the guardians of his city-in-speech are to be educated: Philosophy [φιλόσοφος, c4], spirit [θυμοειδὴς, c4], speed [ταχὺς, c4], and strength [ἰσχυρὸς, c4] must all, then, be combined in the nature of anyone who is to be a fine and good guardian of our city ... But how are we to bring him up and educate him? ... come, then, and just as if we had the leisure to make up stories [ἐν μύθῳ μυθολογοῦντές, d9], let’s describe in theory [λόγῳ, d10] how to educate our men. The irony of the last sentence of the quotation above is palpable: not only will Socrates’ educational curriculum match the thoroughness of one based on the traditional poets but it will also work to replace it. Strangely, however, the basic framework of Socrates’ educational curriculum is hardly radical. He maintains the traditional division of gymnastics (γυμναστική)

167

168 for the body and poetry (μουσική) for the soul.1 He begins with the poetic rather than the gymnastic half of his educational curriculum.3 Yet, once Socrates begins his examination of the traditional, poetic stories, it becomes clear that his educational curriculum will be anything but traditional. What follows in Republic 2-4 is a thorough dismantling of the “content” (λόγος) of the muthoi of Homer and the other poets that formed the core of Greek poetic pedagogy in Plato’s day. Socrates’ first target is the religious content of the poets’ stories. First, Socrates divides up literature into those stories which are true and those which are false: “of stories there is a double form, on the one hand true, on the other hand false” (λόγων δὲ διττὸν εἶδος, τὸ μὲν ἀληθές, ψεῦδος δ᾽ ἕτερον, Rep. 2.376e11). It is not altogether clear, however, what Socrates means by “true” and “false” here. Indeed, the confusion of the reader is anticipated by Adeimantus’ response: “I don’t understand [you]” (οὐ μανθάνω, Rep. 2.377a3). To clear up Adeimantus’ perplexity, Socrates makes it clear that he is not interested in what we would call the literal truth contained in stories; as he admits, the stories told to children now contain “some truth.”4 As Socrates’ educational curriculum unfolds, however, it becomes clear that the stories that he considers to be “true” – and thus “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) – are those which possess “religious truth.” Any stories that violate Plato’s theological paradigms 1

Socrates will later modify this traditional division, rejecting the importance of the body altogether, claiming that both γυμναστική and μουσική concern the education of the soul. On this traditional division in Greek culture elsewhere in Greek literature, see Aristophanes. (Clouds 961 ff.), Isocrates (Antidosis 266-8), and Plato (Prot. 325a-326b; Laws 654a); see also P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 15-6). The range of educational activities contained in the Greek word μουσική, which the English word “poetry” inadequately translates, includes reading and writing, the study of literature, memorizing and reciting poetry, playing music, singing, and dancing. 3 On the precedence of poetry over gymnastic instruction elsewhere in the Platonic corpus, cf.see Prot. 325e-326c and Laws 2.654a6-7. See also Nehamas (1982,) 71 n. 17). 4 P. Murray ([1996] 2007) 135 incorrectly takes Socrates to refer to Platonic muthoi here rather than traditional poetic muthoi.

169 (τύποι) by not depicting a god (or a daimon) as he is (cf. Rep. 2.378e-379a) will be altered – or in some way misrepresented or misappropriated – or will simply be named as candidates for censorship. Plato’s paradigms, then, are 1) the gods do not change (Rep. 3.380d-382c); and 2) the gods only cause good (Rep. 3.379b-380c). The poets in Plato’s view corrupt the virtue of piety (εὐσέβεια) – crucial in the constitution of a just state and individual – by violating the paradigms or tupoi above, thus depicting the gods “falsely.”

2. Tupos I (Gods Do not Change): The Gods are not Shape-Shifters

[Proteus:] “O Heaven, were man but constant, he were perfect: that one error fills him with faults; makes him run through all sins Inconstancy falls off, ere it begins.” (William Shakespeare, Two Gentlemen of Verona 5.4.110-113)

Quotation 8: Plato Rep. 2.364d6-e2 : Homer Il. 9.497, 499-501 (Cf. Allusion 20) & Paraphrase 2: Plato Rep. 2.366a3-4 : Homer Il. 9.499, 501 (Cf. Allusion 20) Interpretive Context The context of both Quotation 8 and Paraphrase 2 overlaps with that of Allusion 4 above where Glaucon and Adeimantus take up Thrasymachus’ position that “it is better in every way to be just than unjust” (Rep. 2.357b1-2). In Adeimantus’ contribution to the argument, he complains at Rep. 2.363a1-3 how “[no one] praise[s] justice itself [αὐτὸ δικαιοσύνην, a1], only the high

170 reputations [ευδοκιμήσεις, a2] it leads to and the consequences of being thought to be just.” Finally, Adeimantus points out that according to “private individuals and poets” (Rep. 2.363e6364a1) wealth especially can be a safeguard against suffering the penalties of one’s injustice: Begging priests and prophets frequent the doors of the rich and persuade them that they possess a god-given power founded on sacrifices and incantations. If the rich person or any of his ancestors has committed an injustice, they can fix it with pleasant rituals. Moreover, if he wishes to injure some enemy, then, at little expense, he’ll be able to harm just and unjust alike, for by means of spells and enchantments they can persuade the gods to serve them.5 As Adeimantus has done throughout his brief monologue in this section of the Republic, he will cite the words of poets “as witnesses” (μάρτυρας, Rep. 2.364c5) to corroborate the claims he makes about his (sophistic/poetic) understanding of justice.6 Here he both quotes and paraphrases “Homer’s” belief that the gods can be influenced by human ritual and sacrifice, expressed at Il. 9.497, 499-501 (quoted in full below in Original Context).7 Adeimantus concludes that such sayings corrupt the young, as a young person will think that “the various sayings [of the poets] suggest that there is no advantage in my being just if I’m not also thought just” (Rep. 2.365b4-5). Taking this argument to its logical extreme, Adeimantus reasons that a 5

Rep. 2.364b5-c5. Adeimantus brings an impressive set of poetic “witnesses” to the stand at Rep. 2.364c-365c, citing the words of Hesiod, Pindar, Archilochus, Musaeus, Orpheus, and Simonides. 7 Plato rejects this idea in more explicit fashion at Laws 4.716e-717a where the Athenian argues that while a good man ought to sacrifice to the gods out of piety an evil man should not as the gods will not receive gifts from “unclean hands.” He goes on to argue that “even if impious people do lavish a lot of attention to the gods, they are wasting their time.” On piety and giftgiving, see also Laws 10.905d. See also Alc. II 149d-150a – considered to be spurious by most – where Socrates advances the argument that the gods value the justice and piety of a man’s soul rather than the gifts and sacrifices he offers. Here, Socrates quotes Il. 8.548-52 to support his argument. On piety and gift-giving in the Republic, see 2.365e4 and 2.366a3-4. See also Euth. 14d ff. on Socrates’ argument against Euthyphro’s definition of piety. Here he argues that giving gifts to the gods for the sake of piety is absurd as the gods are self-sufficient; they have no need of human gifts as there is no way that they can be benefited by them. 6

171 reputation for justice – seeming justice – is all that really matters. Among men, Adeimantus continues, injustice can remain undetected through “persuasion” (πείσομεν, Rep. 2.365d5) and “force” (βιασόμεθα, Rep. 2.365d5), whereas among the gods – supposing that they both exist and have an interest in human affairs – trusting in Homer’s dictum, punishment can be avoided by means of “sacrifices, soothing vows, and offerings” (Rep. 2.365e4). According to Adeimantus the teachings of the poets offer no rational framework for acting justly. According to his analysis of the poets’ theological views, the best course of action is to excel at pursuing injustice; such a way of life allows one to enjoy the benefits of injustice without having to pay the penalty. In the Iliad, the lines about the gods’ favorable reception of prayers and sacrifices are delivered by Phoenix who, as part of The Embassy to Achilles, attempts to convince the hero to turn aside his wrath against Agamemnon and return to the battlefield.8 He urges Achilles to receive Agamemnon’s generous gifts and prayers; as he notes, in the lines cited in the Republic, “Nay, even the very gods can bend, and theirs withal is more excellent worth and honor and might. By sacrifices and soothing vows, by the savor of sacrifice and libation do men turn them from wrath with supplication, whensoever a man has transgressed and sinned” (Il. 9.497-501).9 Original Context Plato Rep. 2.364d3-e2 [Quotation 8] οἱ δὲ τῆς τῶν θεῶν ὑπ’ ἀνθρώπων παραγωγῆς τὸν Ὅμηρον 8

See Allusion 20 where Socrates uses this Homeric episode once more to argue against depicting heroes (i.e. Achilles), rather than gods, as capable of being persuaded by gifts. Here the passage is used to argue for the censorship of poetic passages that depict great men as lovers of money. 9 See Apollo’s complaint against Achilles at Il. 24.39-40, who likewise complains that Achilles’ “mind” (νόημα, 40) is not capable of “being turned” (γναμπτὸν, 41).

172 μαρτύρονται, ὅτι καὶ ἐκεῖνος εἶπεν-[λιστοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί, καὶ τοὺς μὲν θυσίαισι καὶ εὐχωλαῖς ἀγαναῖσιν λοιβῇ τε κνίσῃ τε παρατρωπῶσ’ ἄνθρωποι λισσόμενοι, ὅτε κέν τις ὑπερβήῃ καὶ ἁμάρτῃ.]

5 e

[Adeimantus:] “Others quote Homer to bear witness that the god can be influenced by humans, since he said: [‘Nay, even the very gods are moved by prayers, by sacrifices and soothing vows, by the savor of sacrifice and libation do men turn them from wrath with supplication, whensoever a man has transgressed and sinned.”] Plato Rep. 2.365e3-2.366a4 [Paraphrase 2] οἱ δὲ αὐτοὶ οὗτοι λέγουσιν ὡς εἰσὶν οἷοι [θυσίαις τε καὶ εὐχωλαῖς ἀγανῇσιν] καὶ ἀναθήμασιν παράγεσθαι ἀναπειθόμενοι οἷς ἢ ἀμφότερα ἢ οὐδέτερα πειστέον. εἰ δ’ οὖν πειστέον, ἀδικητέον καὶ θυτέον ἀπὸ τῶν ἀδικημάτων. δίκαιοι μὲν γὰρ ὄντες ἀζήμιοι μόνον ὑπὸ θεῶν ἐσόμεθα, τὰ δ’ ἐξ ἀδικίας κέρδη ἀπωσόμεθα· ἄδικοι δὲ κερδανοῦμέν τε καὶ [λισσόμενοι ὑπερβαίνοντες καὶ ἁμαρτάνοντες,] πείθοντες αὐτοὺς ἀζήμιοι ἀπαλλάξομεν.

5 366

[Adeimantus:] “But these are the very people who tell us that the gods can be persuaded and influenced [by sacrifices, soothing prayers,] and offerings. Hence, we should believe them on both matters or neither. If we believe them, we should be unjust and offer sacrifices from the fruits of our injustice. If we are just, our only gain is not to be punished by the gods, since we lose the profits of injustice. But if we are unjust, we profit, and [using supplication while transgressing and sinning] we persuade the gods and escape without punishment.” Homer Il. 9.496-501 ἀλλ’ Ἀχιλεῦ δάμασον θυμὸν μέγαν· οὐδέ τί σε χρὴ νηλεὲς ἦτορ ἔχειν· [στρεπτοὶ δε τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί, τῶν περ καὶ μείζων ἀρετὴ τιμὴ τε βίη τε. καὶ μὲν τοὺς θυέεσσι καὶ εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι λοιβῇ τε κνίσῃ τε παρατρωπῶς’ ἄνθρωποι λισσόμενοι, ὅτε κέν τις ὑπερβήῃ καὶ ἀμάρτῃ.]

500

[Phoenix:] “Wherefore Achilles, master your proud spirit [θυμὸν, 496]; what need could there be to have a pitiless heart. [Nay, even the very gods can bend, and theirs withal is more excellent worth and honor and might. By sacrifices and soothing vows, by the savor of

173 sacrifice and libation do men turn them from wrath with supplication, whensoever a man has transgressed and sinned.”] Texts Plato Rep. 2.364d6-e2 [Quotation 8] [λιστοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί, καὶ τοὺς μὲν θυσίαισι καὶ εὐχωλαῖς ἀγαναῖσιν λοιβῇ τε κνίσῃ τε παρατρωπῶσ’ ἄνθρωποι λισσόμενοι, ὅτε κέν τις ὑπερβήῃ καὶ ἁμάρτῃ.]

e

d6 λιστοὶ δέ τε] λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοί τε A : λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοὶ δέ τε A2 : στρεπτοὶ δέ τε F D M d7 εὐχωλαῖς ἀγαναῖσιν] εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι F Plato Rep. 2.365e4, 2.366a3-4 [Paraphrase 2] λέγουσιν ὡς εἰσὶν οἷοι [θυσίαις τε καὶ εὐχωλαῖς ἀγανῇσιν] ... δὲ κερδανοῦμέν τε καὶ [λισσόμενοι ὑπερβαίνοντες καὶ ἁμαρτάνοντες,] πείθοντες αὐτοὺς ἀζήμιοι ἀπαλλάξομεν. e4 ἀγανῇσιν] ἀγαναῖσιν F Homer Il. 9.497-501 νηλεὲς ἦτορ ἔχειν· [στρεπτοὶ δε τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί, τῶν περ καὶ μείζων ἀρετὴ τιμὴ τε βίη τε. καὶ μὲν τοὺς θυέεσσι καὶ εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι λοιβῇ τε κνίσῃ τε παρατρωπῶς’ ἄνθρωποι λισσόμενοι, ὅτε κέν τις ὑπερβήῃ καὶ ἀμάρτῃ.]

500

500 λοιβῇ τε κνίσῃ τε] λοιβῆς τε κνίσης τε p M8 U2 V16 v. l. in A Textual Differences Quotation 8 1) λιστοὶ δέ τε (λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοί τε / λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοὶ δέ τε / στρεπτοὶ δέ τε) (d6) : στρεπτοὶ δέ τε (497) [Invention / Legitimate Variant] [Modern Editorial Error]

174 Line d6 as it reads in Plato’s text above is the result of a modern emendation; it does not appear in any ancient manuscript. In the modern emendation, Homer’s στρεπτοὶ “liable to be bent/turned,” is replaced by the metrically equivalent λιστοὶ, “liable to be bent/turned by prayer; implorable.” While the inclusion of λιστοὶ is preferable in the modern text, I shall argue that the best reading should also include στρεπτοί as well. The modern emendation depends too heavily on interests of metrical regularity, yet gives comparatively little weight to the evidence from the manuscripts themselves. To work through this passage, I include below all the different versions of this line as they appear in Plato’s manuscripts: F D M & Homer: Modern Emendation: A: A2: D2:

στρεπτοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί λιστοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί, λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοί τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί, λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί, λιστοὶ στρεπτοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί,

As noted above, F, D, and M all correspond exactly to Homer’s original. The indirect tradition agrees with F, D, M and Homer as well. Manuscript A includes the word λιστοὶ while retaining στρεπτοί. A2 differs from A only by the inclusion of δέ. D2 features no conjunctions between λιστοὶ and στρεπτοὶ. To treat A first, manuscript A’s reading is rejected by modern editors on metrical grounds:10 the “addition” at the beginning of the line of λιστοὶ δὲ creates a long short long sequence – impossible in dactylic hexameter – in the following underlined syllables: λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοί τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί. A2 appears to be nothing more than an attempted correction of this metrical problem. While A2’s addition of a δέ makes Plato’s line itself a regular fragment of 10

The clearest explanation for the rationale behind accepting the modern emendation appears in Lohse (1965, 273).

175 a hexameter line, when the two-and-a-half feet of Homer’s original (νηλεὲς ἦτορ ἔχειν) are attached at the beginning, the line ends up being too long, at seven-and-half feet.11 It is unclear what merits the reading of D2 possesses. By removing the δὲ between λιστοὶ and στρεπτοί, a necessary connective is eliminated; moreover, the metrical problems remain, with the line still too long at seven feet (again assuming the existence at the beginning of the line of Homer’s νηλεὲς ἦτορ ἔχειν). Even without νηλεὲς ἦτορ ἔχειν, the line cannot stand on its own as a hexameter, as the short syllables δέ τε would stand at the beginning of a foot.12 F D and M are rejected by modern editors – despite their perfect agreement with Homer – because they do not contain λιστοὶ. The appeal of λιστοὶ boils down to the fact that it is an unusual word. As a hapax in Homer and a word that is not found in an uncompounded form elsewhere in Greek literature, it is unlikely that it did not appear in Plato’s text.13 In other words, it would be an odd word to mistake via memory or for a scribe to interpolate. Added to this is the fact that A is generally such a well-respected manuscript that if a reading appears in A, it holds a great deal of authority due to that very fact.14 Whether λιστοὶ appeared in Plato’s Homer is a separate, insoluble

11

It is possible that in Plato’s Homer a single foot stood before A2, but such a state of affairs is highly unlikely. What in the context could this one foot contain and where is the support for it in Homeric manuscripts, papyri, and scholia, not to mention the secondary tradition? 12 The only salvation for this line is to assume some other shorter phrase stood at the beginning of this line in Plato’s Homer. But again such an assumption flies in the face of all of our documentary evidence. 13 The verbal adjective στρεπτοὶ – in its various forms –is well-attested in Homeric epic (cf. Il. 15.203; 17.113; 20.31; 248). The compounds of λιστοὶ in Homer include πολύλλιστος (Od. 5.445; cf. also the Homeric Hymn to Apollo 3.347) and τρίλλιστος (Il. 8.488). λίσσομαι and its cognates in general are poetic. In Socrates’ extended and extremely prosaic paraphrase of Il. 1.12-42 at Rep. 3.393d3-5, 393d8-394a7 (cf. Paraphrase 6), which forms the core of Plato’s criticism of Homer’s style, Plato avoids using Homer’s λίσσετο (15). He replaces it in the paraphrase with the more prosaic ἱκέτης (d4). 14 On the status of A as codex optimus, see Boter (1989, 86-8).

176 problem. We can only conclude that either Plato’s Homer read λιστοὶ, a variant that does not survive elsewhere (presumably because it is a hapax), or Plato invented the variant. I subscribe to the latter theory. With λιστοὶ, Plato introduces the concept of prayer which, while implicit in Homer, is not mentioned explicitly as a way to turn the gods’ wrath. The use of λιστοὶ thus acts as a means whereby Plato can make Homer’s flawed conception of changeable deities all the more explicit, by imagining not that they change, but that they change directly as a result of human prayer. Labarbe for his part argues that as compared to στρεπτοὶ, λιστοὶ has a “lower” sense, implying the ability to be swayed by begging and supplication, rather than simply the ability to change one’s disposition or to be conciliatory in general.15 In the end, however, the origin of the reading of λιστοὶ is beyond the faculties of the modern scholar. If it altered the meaning of στρεπτοὶ more significantly, a good case could be made for a “philosophical revision” of the Homeric line in Plato; as it is, however, the difference between λιστοὶ and στρεπτοὶ is fairly minor.16 If we accept the authenticity of λιστοὶ in Plato’s text – as I do – then, it is clear that we must reject F D M, despite these manuscripts’ agreement with Homer. Where modern editors err, then, is in assuming that λιστοὶ cannot coexist with στρεπτοὶ (as it does in A, A2, and D2), , figuring that it must act as its replacement for στρεπτοὶ. They deny that λιστοὶ and στρεπτοὶ can coexist, as noted above, because such a combination is not metrically possible. Yet in so doing, they not only show that they misunderstand Plato’s relatively casual approach to metrical fidelity in citation, but they also place metrical concerns above the evidence of the manuscripts 15

Labarbe 1949, 152. Labarbe (1949, 153) sees no reason to view Plato’s substitution of λιστοὶ as intentional: On ne voit rien qui ait pu motiver un changement intentionnel. The gap in meaning between λιστοὶ and στρεπτοὶ is reduced if we consider Il.15.203, where, as in Il. 9.496 above, the meaning for στρεπτοὶ as “bent by prayer” is basically implied. 16

177 all other documentary evidence. The simple fact remains: στρεπτοὶ appears in every one of our Platonic manuscripts, including every citation of the line in the secondary tradition.17 To reject στρεπτοὶ, then, is an untenable position. As for Plato’s use of meter in his citations, we have already seen that the initial line of his citations is frequently not metrical.18 It is no surprise, then, that λιστοὶ disrupts the rhythm of the original poetic line. What I propose, then, is to take the λιστοὶ δὲ of A and A2 as extrametrical, indeed as words that are meant to be taken as introductory rather than as part of the quotation proper, the purpose of which in Plato is to clarify or expand upon the specific way in which the gods may be moved, that is to say, by prayer. In this way, λιστοὶ can be taken as anticipatory of the following λισσόμενοι (e2, 501 in Plato and Homer respectively). In translation, then, this passage would read, “Others quote Homer to bear witness that the gods can be influenced by humans, by prayer even, as he said, ‘Nay even the very gods can bend ...” That such a reading causes a delay between εἶπεν presents no problem as such practice is the standard in Homer, whereas Plato’s habits in this regard are hardly regular.19 Thus, the only question left to consider is whether A or A2 is the better reading.20 It is hard to take the reading of a second hand over the codex optimus A; however, given that the later 17

The only variants for στρεπτοὶ in Homer are in inferior manuscripts (often in a second hand): τρεπτοὶ δὲ τε U2 Vi1; τραπτοι Μ4. 18 See Quotation 1, Textual Differences 1, γὰρ; Quotation 3, Textual Differences 1, δημιοεργοὶ; Allusion 4, Textual Differences 2, κυνῆν; Quotation 9, Textual Differences 2, γάρ τε; Paraphrase 4, Textual Differences 1) Word order; Quotation 20; et al. 19 See Quotation 23 where in Plato φάναι interrupts the quotation proper; see also Proverbial Citation 1, where φασιν follows the quotation. In the only other use of εἶπεν in the Republic to introduce a quotation (cf. Quotation 38), however, the quotation does follow directly; yet, as noted above, it is standard practice in Homer for direct speech introduced by εἶπεν to be delayed until the line following (cf. Il. 16.513; 19.257; 23.143; Od. 7.330; et al.). 20 I have left D2 out of the discussion as the lack of a connective between λιστοὶ and στρεπτοὶ in this context is unprecedented in extant Greek literature.

178 half of A2 (λιστοὶ δὲ στρεπτοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί) corresponds with our Homer, it is to be preferred. The resulting δὲ ... δὲ ... τε καὶ sequence is unusual, but not unprecedented even in the Republic itself.21 Indeed, I take A2 to be nothing more than a correction to the copy of A, which had accidentally dropped out a δὲ. In conclusion, then, while it is an attractive line of reasoning to argue that λιστοὶ was gradually pushed out of the ancient manuscripts (namely F, D, and M) to accommodate a reading (using στρεπτοί) that corresponded exactly with Homer, I cannot have any confidence in a modern emendation that values metrical regularity over the manuscripts themselves. The correct reading no doubt contains λιστοὶ, but it should also include στρεπτοὶ as well, punctuated as follows: ... οἱ δὲ τῆς τῶν θεῶν ὑπ’ ἀνθρώπων παραγωγῆς τὸν Ὅμηρον μαρτύρονται, ὅτι καὶ ἐκεῖνος εἶπεν λιστοὶ δέ, “στρεπτοὶ δέ τε καὶ θεοὶ αὐτοί ...”

5

2) τῶν περ καὶ μείζων ἀρετὴ τιμὴ τε βίη τε. (498) [Intentional Omission / Implied Censorship] Plato omits line 498 from Homer’s original because it is unnecessary given the point he is trying to make,22 namely that in Homer the will of the gods may be altered through human activity. Lohse argues this point in his reading of the citation:23 Um nun für den Komparativ μείζων des Verses 498 einen Bezugspunkt zu haben, hätte er die ganze Episode wiedergeben müssen, in der Achill im Mittelpunkt steht. Um dies zu vermeiden, läßt Platon den fraglichen Vers aus und beschränkt das Zitat auf den für seinen Zweck wichtigen Gedanken. 21

See Rep. 10.596e2-3: ταχὺ δὲ γῆν, ταχὺ δὲ σαυτόν τε καὶ τἆλλα ζῷα καὶ σκεύη καὶ φυτὰ καὶ πάντα ὅσα. 22 For omission in general in Plato’s citations of Homer, see Howes (1895, 207-8). 23 Lohse 1965, 273.

179 Given the philosophical context in Plato, Socrates has no need to point out that the gods are better and mightier than man – a fact noted by Phoenix in the Homeric context only to put Achilles’ behavior in its proper perspective. It is worth noting, as well, that Plato may suppress this line in order implicitly to deny that worth and excellence (in a philosophic sense) are qualities that Homer’s Olympians possess. George Melville Bolling advances the odd position that Plato’s omission of verse 498 is evidence that it is a later interpolation in Homer.24 He offers no evidence, however, for this position. Given the syntax of the following line (discussed immediately below in 3), we cannot seriously entertain Bolling’s suggestion. 3) καὶ τοὺς μὲν (d7) : καὶ μὲν τοὺς (499) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience] The explanation of this textual difference in Howes, the earliest of the modern commentators on this passage, is neither exhaustive nor even accurate. Howes writes only that Homer’s μὲν τοὺς has suffered inversion in Plato through some scribe’s carelessness – a typical “when-all-elsefails” explanation in Howes.25 But in fact, this inversion arises from the fact that Homer’s line 498 is missing from Plato’s text. Homer’s καὶ μὲν τοὺς is used as a means to reference and further explain line 497 – one of the essential functions of καὶ μὲν in Greek –26 namely that the gods may be swayed (497) and here is how mortals accomplish it (499). In Plato’s quotation, however, no reference is needed as the idea of the gods being swayed (d6) is followed immediately by how this is done (d7), thus καὶ in Plato is just used in its ordinary linking sense.

24

Bolling 1925, 122. Howes 1898, 198. 26 See Monro (1891, 314) and Denniston ([1934] 1996, 390-1). For numerous examples of this function of καὶ μὲν in Homer with regard to this passage, see Labarbe (1949, 157-8) and Lohse (1969, 274-5), who appears to follow Labarbe directly. 25

180 4) θυσίαισι (d7): θυέεσσι (499) [Atticism] The most likely explanation for Plato’s θυσίαισι, first suggested by Ludwich,27 is that it originally arose as a gloss. θυσίαισι is a natural gloss for a number of reasons: it is an extremely common word in the Attic dialect that is used here in a form metrically and semantically equivalent to Homer’s θυέεσσι; θυέεσσι is itself extremely rare in Greek literature in general – unknown throughout Greek prose and Attic Greek in general – including Homer, in which forms of θύος appear only two other times.28 Examples abound in Plato in which Attic forms are preferred to poetic or epic forms in his citations. In this respect θυσίαισι is not an unusual case. θυσίαισι is, however, corroborated by Stobaeus, whose text Labarbe claims here is not dependent on that of Plato.29 5) εὐχωλαῖς ἀγαναῖσιν (d6) : εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι (499) [Modern Editorial Error] Labarbe is correct to argue that the reading of F, which is identical with Homer here, ought to be adopted. While F often contains readings that agree with Homer,30 evidence that the text of Plato’s citations of Homer was often “corrected” in F so as to agree with its source, here F’s reading is legitimate and preferable. Plato also cites Il. 9.499 at Rep. 2.365e4 in the context of a 27

Ludwich 1898, 94. Labarbe (1949, 160) prefers to assume that θυσίαισι is a variant arising out of the oral tradition – key to his overall thesis; but, in the end, there is no substantial difference for our purposes between the two positions. In the interest of completeness, Howes (1895, 189) advances the argument that Plato’s variant is the result of a careless copyist. 28 θύος appears once in the dative plural at Il. 6.270 and once in the genitive plural at Od. 15.260. θύος does seem to have had a brief resurgence in popularity in the Hellenistic Age – perhaps for archiazing or learned effect – as it appears in both Apollonius of Rhodes (1.353, 1.860, 3.65, et al.) and Theocritus (Epigr. 8.3, Id. 2.10). 29 Stobaeus (1.2.53 [Wachsmuth]) here is quoting the passage by way of Hierocles the Stoic. The one disagreement with Plato in the indirect tradition appears in Athenagoras (Pro Christ. 13), which reads θυσίῃσι. 30 On this point, see Labarbe (1949, 166, 176) and Lohse (1965, 278). For evidence of this practice in this study, see Quotation 10, 11, 12, 14, 37, and 41.

181 paraphrase (see Paraphrase 2 below). In the quotation of Il. 9.499 above, the reading of A, D, and M deviates from the Homeric original (εὐχωλαῖς ἀγαναῖσιν), whereas in the paraphrase A, D, and M are closer to the original (εὐχωλαῖς ἀγανῇσιν), with ἀγανῇσιν showing perfect agreement. In F, the situation is reversed, and indeed much more logical. Surely, if Plato knew the Homeric reading, he would have remained faithful to it when he intended to quote him directly rather than when he was merely paraphrasing him – the more appropriate context for Atticisms. In the quotation, then, F reads εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι31 in accord with all of our Homeric manuscripts and also the indirect tradition;32 in the paraphrase F reads εὐχωλαῖς ἀγανῇσιν. In further support of F, it is worth noting that in all of the other instances in the corpus in which Plato quotes poetic material with the epic dative plural ending -ῇσι[ν], he inevitably follows it.33 6) λοιβῇ τε κνίσῃ τε Plato follows the reading of Homer’s primary MSS. Some lesser manuscripts, however, M8, U2, and V16 feature the alternate reading λοιβῆς τε κνίσης, which is discussed in depth by Labarbe.34 Paraphrase 2 1) θυσίαις (e4) : θυέεσσι (499) [Atticism]

31

ἀγανῇσι happens to be the only dative plural form of ἀγανῇ in Homer, appearing also at Od. 11.34 and 13.357. The variant εὐχωλαῖς ἀγαναῖσιν does appear at Od. 13.357. On the rarity of Homer’s use of this Attic poetic dative plural form, see Smyth ([1920] 1980, §§ 214-5). 32 The only minor deviation among the Homeric manuscripts is the use or absence of the numoveable. 33 See Hipp. Min. 365a4 (= Il. 9.312); Ion 539c5-d1 (= Il. 12.206-7); 538d3 (= Il. 24.82); Rep. 3.387a7 (= Od. 24.8); Laws 8.804a1 (= Od. 3.26). 34 Labarbe 1949, 163-4.

182 The variant arising here is identical in form and thus arises for the same reasons as that above, in 4. 2) εὐχωλαῖς ἀγανῇσιν (e4) : εὐχωλῇς ἀγανῇσι (499) [Modern Editorial Error] See 5 above. 3) ὑπερβαίνοντες καὶ ἁμαρτάνοντες (a3-4) : ὑπερβήῃ καὶ ἀμάρτῃ (501) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience] Here Plato adapts the Homeric original to the form of his own sentence. Rather than using a general temporal clause with ἄν, Plato subordinates the present participles ὑπερβαίνοντες and ἁμαρτάνοντες to λισσόμενοι. Plato’s use of the present tense for ὑπερβαίνοντες and ἁμαρτάνοντες changes the sense somewhat of the Homeric original, with Plato perhaps subtly implying that in the flawed Homeric system of theology not only are “transgressions and sins” continual in aspect but also nearly contemporaneous with asking for forgiveness. Indeed, given Plato’s more fluid syntax as compared with Homer’s original, it is possible to construe his sentences to read “But if we are unjust, we profit; and praying while we transgress and sin, we persuade the gods and escape without punishment.” Interpretation As is typical of Plato, he does not treat Homer here very fairly. He has taken the words of a character in Homer’s epic, Phoenix, as a reflection of the poet’s own ideas on theology. Plato conveniently disregards the fact that in Homer’s original the character Phoenix merely states his “theological position” in order to humble Achilles, to remind him that there is a proper limit to wrath as even a god’s wrath can be overturned. To be sure, Phoenix’s (or rather Homer’s)

183 intended purpose is not – as Plato (or rather Adeimantus) takes it – to argue that the unjust life is more profitable than the just life! While Plato’s approach here may be unfair, taking Homer’s words out of context as he does, Plato is doing more than simply making Homer a proponent of impiety. Plato is pointing out the danger of poetic texts in general. Given that the words of poets are memorized, taken to be paradigms for moral behavior, if someone like Adeimantus can extract the view from Homer, “the educator of Hellas,” that injustice is better than justice, surely there is a problem with the basis of Greek education. The moment poetic texts are taken “as witnesses” (especially by an unscrupulous speaker) rather than simply memorized, poetry displays its dangerous potential. Consider Adeimantus’ argumentative strategy in favor of injustice: he simply quotes and then interprets a series of tag lines from the major Greek poets. His interest is not in the broader context of these passages. He merely wants to support a view with “a witness.” We noticed Cephalus, and then his own son, Polemarchus, doing the very same thing in Republic 1. We can assume that this would have been a common habit among Plato’s contemporaries.35 Adeimantus’ approach is much more sophisticated than Cephalus’,36 who quotes without analyzing or interpreting the text; however, this is to be expected given that Adeimantus has taken over his position from the Sophist Thrasymachus, a thinker who represents perhaps the practice of willful distortion of poetic texts rather than simple, unquestioning acceptance of them. At any rate, what Plato wants to illustrate here is that it can be dangerous to take poetry as a 35

On this point, see especially Tarrant (1951) and Halliwell (2000). It is difficult to say who the greater fool is of Cephalus and Adeimantus. Is it Cephalus because he does not even examine the source of his views critically, or is it Adeimantus who – while he is playing devil’s advocate – willfully perverts poetic texts merely to prove a point. While Socrates behaves similarly to Adeimantus in his interpretation of poetry, his irony, his play with the texts is less transparent and in the end more productive as he both criticizes the value of poetry and offers a positive replacement through his use of philosophy as well. 36

184 moral guide. Poetic texts are mute; they cannot answer for themselves like an ordinary interlocutor; thus, they are easily perverted. In the citations above, then, Plato illustrates not only the flawed conception of the gods which is possible to extrapolate from poetry but also the vulnerability of poetry in general to misinterpretation.

3. Tupos I (Gods Do not Change): The Gods are not Deceitful

ποιητὴς μὲν ἄρα ψευδὴς ἐν θεῷ οὐκ ἔνι. (Plato Republic 2.382d9) There is no lying poet in God.

Quotation 9: Plato Rep. 2.381d3-4 : Homer Od. 17.485-486 (Cf. Plato Sophist 216a-d)37 Interpretive Context In the next three citations (Quotation 9, and Allusions 10 and 11) Plato will move from examining the figurative side of divine immutability – the changing of the gods’ will – to the literal, examining those stories which describe disguised or shape-shifting deities. In the end, we learn that it is not the god who changes and thus deceives, but rather the poet himself (cf. Rep. 2.382d9).

37

Plato also cites this Homeric passage at Soph. 216c5 and so frames the whole dialogue around the idea of philosopher as god. Plato makes a passing allusion to the visits of gods among mortals at Tim. 41a as well.

185 Quotation 9 forms part of Socrates’ “proof” for his second tupos, or what he even refers to as a sort of “law” (νόμων, Rep. 2.380c7) concerning the gods.38 As Socrates argues at Rep. 2.380d-e, god is “simple” (ἁπλοῦν, d5) and “least of all likely to step out of his own form [αὑτοῦ ἰδέας, d8-e1]” and thus never changes himself by taking on different forms at different times.39 To “prove” his position, Socrates takes as his premise that god is already in the best possible form (cf. Rep. 2.381b4) and thus perfect in respect to “beauty” (κάλλους, Rep. 2.381c2) and “virtue” (ἀρετῆς, Rep. 2.381c2). With these assumptions granted, he can then demonstrate that gods would not change since “whatever is in good condition ... admits least of being changed by anything else” (Rep. 2.381b1-2). He can also argue that the gods would not willingly change, as “[no] god or human would deliberately make himself worse in any way” (Rep. 2.381c4-5). In the original, Homeric context Antinous has just finished abusing Odysseus-beggar, when an unnamed suitor warns him that the gods often visit men in disguise: Antinous, you did not do well to strike the wretched wanderer ... what if haply he be some god come down from heaven! Aye, and the gods in the guise of strangers from afar put on all manner of shapes, and visit the cities, beholding the violence and the righteousness [ὕβριν τε καὶ εὐνομίην, 487] of men.40 Besides the more obvious reference to Homeric theology vis-à-vis disguised deities in this citation, Plato is also implicitly pointing out the vast inferiority of the Homeric system of

38

I put “proof” in quotations here as all that Socrates succeeds in proving is that the poets’ stories are self-contradictory if judged based on Socrates’ own unproven theology. On this point, see also R. Robinson (1953, 29). 39 The novelty of this line of argument, though certainly to an extent anticipated by Xenophanes, is indicated by Adeimantus’ confused response to Socrates’ idea of a “simple” god at Rep. 2.380d7. 40 Od. 17.483-7.

186 morality compared to that of philosophy. In the Homeric original, the unnamed suitor urges Antinous to behave justly towards Odysseus-beggar not because it is wrong in and of itself to do so, but because he may be caught doing it by a disguised god. In the Republic, however, one is urged to act justly without regard to external reward or punishment as injustice on its own damages the harmony of one’s soul. The idea of being caught doing injustice, explicitly devalued in Socrates’ rejection of The Myth of Gyges’ Ring (cf. Rep. 2.359c-360c, Allusion 4), is beside the point in the moral universe of the Republic. Original Context Plato Rep. 381d1-4 Μηδεὶς ἄρα, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ὦ ἄριστε, λεγέτω ἡμῖν τῶν ποιητῶν, ὡς [θεοὶ ξείνοισιν ἐοικότες ἀλλοδαποῖσι, παντοῖοι τελέθοντες, ἐπιστρωφῶσι πόληας·]

d

[Socrates:] “Then let no poet tell us, my good friend, that [‘The gods in the likeness of strangers from afar, put on all manner of shapes, and visit the cities of mortals.”] Homer Od. 17.485-487 καί τε [θεοὶ ξείνοισιν ἐοικότες ἀλλοδαποῖσι, παντοῖοι τελέθοντες, ἐπιστρωφῶσι πόληας,] ἀνθρώπων ὕβριν τε καὶ εὐνομίην ἐφορῶντες.

485

Aye, and [the gods in the likeness of strangers from afar put on all manner of shapes, and visit the cities of mortals, beholding the violence and the righteousness of men.] Textual Differences & Interpretation 1) καί τε (485) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience] Plato’s text is identical to Homer’s, but he does begin his quotation of verse 485 after Homer’s introductory καί τε. The reason for this is fairly clear. In Homer the καί τε serves as a

187 necessary link between verse 484 and 485. As Plato does not include verse 484 in his quotation, he disposes of this now unnecessary connective link at the beginning of his quotation.41 2) ἀνθρώπων ὕβριν τε καὶ εὐνομίην ἐφορῶντες. (487) [(Potential) Implied Censorship] It is perhaps somewhat odd that Plato breaks off his quotation of the suitors’ words before the very last line of his rebuke of Antinous. It is not terribly likely, but perhaps Plato implicitly denies that gods existing under Homer’s system of theology are fit to be judges of moral behavior. More likely, however, verse 486 simply represented a natural break from which Socrates could build his argument against Homer’s depiction of shape-shifting deities.

Allusion 10: Plato Rep. 2.381d5 : Homer Od. 4.456-458 (Cf. Aeschylus fr. 210-215 (Radt); Pindar Nemean 4.62-68; Sophocles fr. 618 (Radt)) Interpretive Context Allusion 10 follows Quotation 9 immediately, thus continuing the same interpretive context in Plato as that above, that is, arguing against the depiction of shape-shifting deities in poetry. Here Socrates notes perhaps the two most famous stories of shape-shifters in Greek mythology: the stories of Proteus and Thetis. While Homer is likely the source for the Proteus story – where Menelaus is wrestling the shape-shifting deity to secure his passage home from Pharos – this is not the case for Thetis. The

41

Labarbe (1949, 165) explains the omission of καί τε in precisely the same terms.

188 Thetis story Plato is alluding to, of Thetis shape-shifting into all manner of wild beasts to avoid marriage to Peleus, is not told in Homer.42 Original Context Plato Rep. 2.381d5 μηδὲ Πρωτέως καὶ Θέτιδος καταψευδέσθω μηδείς

5

[Socrates:] Nor must anyone tell falsehoods about Proteus and Thetis. Homer Od. 4.414-418 ,454-459 τὸν μὲν ἐπὴν δὴ πρῶτα κατευνηθέντα ἴδησθε, καὶ τότ’ ἔπειθ’ ὑμῖν μελέτω κάρτος τε βίη τε, αὖθι δ’ ἔχειν μεμαῶτα καὶ ἐσσύμενόν περ ἀλύξαι. πάντα δὲ γιγνόμενος πειρήσεται, ὅσσ’ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἑρπετὰ γίγνονται, καὶ ὕδωρ καὶ θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ· … ἡμεῖς δὲ ἰάχοντες ἐπεσσύμεθ’, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας βάλλομεν· οὐδ’ ὁ γέρων δολίης ἐπελήθετο τέχνης, ἀλλ’ ἦ τοι πρώτιστα λέων γένετ’ ἠυγένειος, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δράκων καὶ πάρδαλις ἠδὲ μέγας σῦς· γίγνετο δ’ ὑγρὸν ὕδωρ καὶ δένδρεον ὑψιπέτηλον· ἡμεῖς δ’ ἀστεμφέως ἔχομεν τετληότι θυμῷ.

415

455

Now so soon as you see him laid to rest, thereafter let your hearts be filled with strength and courage, and do you hold him there despite his striving and struggling to escape. For try he will, and will assume all manner of shapes of all things that move upon the earth, and of water, and of wondrous blazing fire. … Thereat we rushed upon him with a shout, and threw our arms about him, nor did that old man forget his crafty wiles [δολίης ... τέχνης, 455]. Nay, at the first he turned into a bearded lion, and then into a serpent, and a leopard, and a huge boar; then he turned into flowing water, and into a tree, high and leafy; but we held on unflinchingly with steadfast heart.

42

Later sources for the story which Plato would not have had access to and thus which are not included in the cross-references above appear in Ovid (Met. 11.217), Apollodorus (Library 3.13.5), and Quintus Of Smyrna (Fall of Troy 3.580). On the depiction of Peleus’ capture of Thetis in ancient art, see P. Murray ([1996] 2007, ad loc.) and Brommer (1973, 321-9). See also Ion 541e-542a, where Socrates calls Ion Proteus, mocking how many different characters he is able to assume.

189 Interpretation The Proteus story in Homer fails to fulfill a number of Plato’s criteria regarding stories about the gods. Not only does it feature a shape-shifting deity, but it also depicts a man warring against a god,43 not to mention a god’s will turned by a man. At Rep. 2.381e5-6 Socrates himself states why such stories as those of Proteus and Thetis are unacceptable: “[they] blaspheme the gods and, at the same time, make children more cowardly [δειλοτέρους, e6]”. We learn here, then, that not only do such stories contradict a fundamental tenet of Platonic theology, but they also fail, as all the true lies of the poets do, in being “useful” (χρήσιμος) or “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος), thus discouraging moral excellence rather than encouraging it.

Allusion 11: Plato Rep. 2.383a7-8 : Homer Il. 2.1-36 Interpretive Context Closely connected with the idea of divine shape-shifting is that of divine deception, which Plato treats more directly here in Allusion 11. While Socrates admits that certain types of falsehood are “useful” (χρήσιμος) and appropriate to men (cf. esp. Rep. 2.382c-e; see also a detailed discussion of Plato’s treatment of falsehood in this passage in Allusion 1), he argues that it is ridiculous to argue the same of gods. All the reasons for useful falsehood among men – ignorance, madness, fear of enemies – do not apply to the gods:

43

For the Republic on the inappropriate nature of man warring with god, see Allusions 33 & 34 and Quotation 38.

190 A god, then, is simple [ἁπλοῦν, e8] and true [ἀληθὲς, e8] in word and deed. He doesn’t change himself or deceive [ἐξαπατᾷ, e9] others by images [φαντασίας, e10], words, or signs, whether in visions or in dreams.44 It is here, then, at Rep. 2.383a2-5 that Socrates defines his second tupos most completely (see Original Context immediately below), describing the false dream Zeus sends to Agamemnon at the beginning of Iliad 2. In the end, Socrates concludes that such stories cannot be tolerated in an ideal polis, especially if the point of poetry is to educate and to inculcate virtue: Whenever anyone says such things about a god, we’ll be angry with him, refuse chorus, and not allow his poetry to be used in the education of the young, so our guardians will be as god-fearing [θεοσεβεῖς, c4] and godlike [θεῖοι, c4] human beings can be.45

him a that as

In the original Homeric context, Zeus lies awake wondering how he might honor Achilles. He decides to send a “baneful” (οὖλον, Il. 2.6) dream to Agamemnon, lying to him that, as the gods are now of one mind, Troy will be taken tomorrow. In the morning, encouraged by the dream, Agamemnon leads the Greek forces into battle with disastrous results. Original Context Plato Rep. 383a2-8 Συγχωρεῖς ἄρα, ἔφην, τοῦτον δεύτερον τύπον εἶναι ἐν ᾧ δεῖ περὶ θεῶν καὶ λέγειν καὶ ποιεῖν, ὡς μήτε αὐτοὺς γόητας ὄντας τῷ μεταβάλλειν ἑαυτοὺς μήτε ἡμᾶς ψεύδεσι παράγειν ἐν λόγῳ ἢ ἐν ἔργῳ; Συγχωρῶ. [Πολλὰ ἄρα Ὁμήρου ἐπαινοῦντες, ἀλλὰ τοῦτο οὐκ ἐπαινεσόμεθα, τὴν τοῦ ἐνυπνίου πομπὴν ὑπὸ Διὸς τῷ Ἀγαμέμνονι]

44 45

Rep. 2.382e8-11. Rep. 2.383c1-5.

5

191 [Socrates:] “You agree, then, that this is our second pattern [τύπον, a2] for speaking and composing poems about the gods: They are not sorcerers [γόητας, a3] who change themselves, nor do they mislead us by falsehoods [ψεύδεσι, a4] in words or deeds.” [Adeimantus:] “I agree” “So, even though we praise many things in Homer, we won’t approve of the dream Zeus sent to Agamemnon.” Homer Il. 2.2-16, 20-23 … Δία δ’ οὐκ ἔχε νήδυμος ὕπνος, ἀλλ’ ὅ γε μερμήριζε κατὰ φρένα ὡς Ἀχιλῆα τιμήσῃ, ὀλέσῃ δὲ πολέας ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν. ἥδε δέ οἱ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή, πέμψαι ἐπ’ Ἀτρεί̈δῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι οὖλον ὄνειρον· καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα· βάσκ’ ἴθι οὖλε ὄνειρε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν· ἐλθὼν ἐς κλισίην Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεί̈δαο πάντα μάλ’ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορευέμεν ὡς ἐπιτέλλω· θωρῆξαί ἑ κέλευε κάρη κομόωντας Ἀχαιοὺς πανσυδίῃ· νῦν γάρ κεν ἕλοι πόλιν εὐρυάγυιαν Τρώων· οὐ γὰρ ἔτ’ ἀμφὶς Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχοντες ἀθάνατοι φράζονται· ἐπέγναμψεν γὰρ ἅπαντας Ἥρη λισσομένη, Τρώεσσι δὲ κήδε’ ἐφῆπται. ὣς φάτο, βῆ δ’ ἄρ’ ὄνειρος ἐπεὶ τὸν μῦθον ἄκουσε· … στῆ δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς Νηληί̈ῳ υἷι ἐοικώς Νέστορι, τόν ῥα μάλιστα γερόντων τῖ’ Ἀγαμέμνων· τῷ μιν ἐεισάμενος προσεφώνεε θεῖος ὄνειρος …

5

10

15 20

…Zeus was not holden of sweet sleep, for he was pondering in his heart how he might do honor to Achilles and lay many low beside the ships of the Achaeans. And this plan seemed to his mind the best, to send to Agamemnon, son of Atreus, a baneful dream. So he spoke, and addressed him with winged words: Up, go, baneful Dream, to the swift ships of the Achaeans, and when you have come to the hut of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, tell him all my word truly [ἀτρεκέως, 10], even as I charge you. Bid him arm the long-haired Achaeans with all speed, since now he may take the broad-wayed city of the Trojans. For the immortals, that have homes upon Olympus, are no longer divided in counsel, since Hera has bent the minds of all by her supplication, and over the Trojans hang woes. So he spoke, and the Dream went his way, when he had heard this saying. … So [the Dream] took his stand above [Agamemnon’s] head, in the likeness of the son of Neleus, even Nestor, whom above all the elders Agamemnon held in honor; likening himself to him, the Dream from heaven spoke, saying ...

192 Interpretation Like Allusion 10 above, Allusion 11 is a negative exemplar in several respects. Not only does Zeus lie with complete disregard for the suffering he will bring on humanity, but the dream itself is a shape-shifter, appearing to Agamemnon in the form of Nestor. Indeed, in antiquity, Plato was hardly the only writer to have been critical of this passage in Homer.46 Socrates’ introductory remark to the quotation proper at Rep. 2.383a6-7 “though there are many other things that we praise in Homer” is best taken to be ironic.47 It is important to keep in mind at this point that Plato has cited Homer disapprovingly no less than 11 times, noting his penchant for telling lies at Rep. 2.377d5-7 and more specifically pointing out at Rep. 2.379d1-2 the “foolish mistake” he makes about the origin of evil in the world (cf. below, Quotation 10: Plato Rep. 2.379d3, 6, 8 : Homer Il. 24.527, 530, 532).

4. Tupos I (Gods Do not Change): The Gods Do not Enter into Strife

Ἡράκλειτος ἐπιτιμᾷ τῷ ποιήσαντι “ὡς ἔρις ἔκ τε θεῶν καὶ ἀνθρώπων ἀπόλοιτο,”48 οὐ γὰρ ἂν εἶναι ἁρμονίαν ... (Heraclitus DK B22 [Aristotle Eu. Eth. 7.1235a25]) Heraclitus rebukes the poet who wrote “Would that strife might perish from amongst gods and men” for then there would be no harmony ...

46

Shorey ([1969] 1982, ad loc.) calls Zeus’ willful deceit here an ancient “Homeric problem.” For more on this “Homeric problem,” see Leaf (1900-2, ad loc.). For more on dreams in Homer in general, see Seymour (1891, ad Il. 2.6). 47 For other examples of ironic praise of Homer, see especially Rep. 3.398a6-8 and Rep. 7.545c9e3. 48 Il. 18.107.

193

Allusion 12: Plato Rep. 2.378d3-4 : Homer Il. 1.589-593 (Cf. Homer Il. 15.14-24; 18.395399) & Allusion 13: Plato Rep. 2.378d5 : Homer Il. 20.4-75; 21.385-513 Interpretive Context Allusions 12 and 13 and Disputed Citation 3, treated immediately below, concern strife among the gods, which Socrates argues provides a bad model for civic virtue. While Socrates admits that many of the stories that the poets tell may be true at Rep. 2.378a1, he argues nevertheless that some ought not to be known by the public-at-large, especially the youth. A city can only operate properly, he argues, if its citizens are in harmony with one another. Thus, if the guardians are to be persuaded that it is “shameful” (αἴσχιστον, Rep. 2.378c2) to hate one another, “we mustn’t allow any stories about gods warring, fighting, or plotting against one another” (Rep. 2.379b8-c1).49 Socrates argues that such stories are not true, that is to say, both factually and in a “religious” sense; such stories are told about things that cannot be known for certain and are told in such a way that they cause harm rather than being beneficial to the listener. As such, Socrates will recommend for censorship the stories about the binding of Hephaestus and the Theomachy, whether they are told in allegorical fashion or not (a possible loophole for poetic interpreters, the allegorists, who admit that such stories are not factually accurate but hold “a deeper truth” or “hidden meanings” (ὑπονοίαι, cf. Rep. 2.378d)).

49

For more on the corrupting influence of stories depicting theft and violence among the gods, see Laws 10.886c and 12.941b.

194 In Homer, the binding of Hephaestus occurs in Iliad 1. The episode, however, is alluded to elsewhere in the epic: at Iliad 15.14-24 Zeus obliquely alludes to the episode when he threatens to beat Hera for her treachery; 50 at Il. 18.395-99 Hephaestus recalls how kindly he was treated by Thetis after being hurled from Olympus. In the primary telling of the tale, however, in Book 1, Hephaestus advises Hera to make peace with Zeus. He argues that conflict with Zeus disturbs the peace of the gods’ feasting (Il. 1.575-76, 579) and that such conflict is in vain anyway: if Zeus could hurl him from Olympus, he is too dangerous and powerful for anyone to challenge. Thereafter, to foster the peace, the limping Hephaestus takes over the role of cupbearer to the gods. This spectacle causes the gods to erupt in “unquenchable laughter” (ἄσβεστος … γέλως, Il. 1.599) – an episode Plato criticizes at Rep. 3.389a5-6 –51 but all the same Hephaestus’ advice proves effective, as the gods feast happily for the remainder of the night. In the Theomachy in Book 20 of the Iliad, Zeus, with the help of Themis, summons the gods to assembly after Achilles returns to battle, inviting them to fight on whichever side of the conflict they choose. The Olympian deities, then, far from curing strife among mortals, are the cause of it; indeed, they revel in it. Later in Book 21 of the Iliad, the gods fight directly against one another, rather than through the agency of their mortal favorites. Original Context 50

ll. 15.14-24: “Verily I know that you shall be the first to reap the fruits of your wretched illcontriving, and I shall scourge you with stripes. Do you not remember when you were hung from on high, and from your feet I suspended two anvils, and around your wrists cast a band of gold that might not be broken? And in the air amid the clouds you did hang, and the gods had indignation throughout high Olympus; yet they were unable to draw near to you and release you. Nay, whomsoever I caught, I would seize and hurl from the threshold until he reached the earth, his strength all spent.” 51 See Quotation 25.

195 Plato Rep. 2.378d3-7 Ἥρας δὲ δεσμοὺς ὑπὸ ὑέος καὶ [Ἡφαίστου ῥίψεις ὑπὸ πατρός, μέλλοντος τῇ μητρὶ τυπτομένῃ ἀμυνεῖν,] καὶ [θεομαχίας] ὅσας Ὅμηρος πεποίηκεν οὐ παραδεκτέον εἰς τὴν πόλιν, οὔτ’ ἐν ὑπονοίαις πεποιημένας οὔτε ἄνευ ὑπονοιῶν.

5

[Socrates:] “We won’t admit stories into our city – whether allegorical [ὑπονοιῶν, d6-7] or not – about Hera being chained by her son, [nor about Hephaestus being hurled from heaven by his father when he tried to help his mother, who was being beaten,] [nor about the battle of the gods] in Homer.” Homer Il. 1.589-593 [The Hurling of Hephaestus] ἀργαλέος γὰρ Ὀλύμπιος ἀντιφέρεσθαι· ἤδη γάρ με καὶ ἄλλοτ’ ἀλεξέμεναι μεμαῶτα ῥῖψε ποδὸς τεταγὼν ἀπὸ βηλοῦ θεσπεσίοιο, πᾶν δ’ ἦμαρ φερόμην, ἅμα δ’ ἠελίῳ καταδύντι κάππεσον ἐν Λήμνῳ, ὀλίγος δ’ ἔτι θυμὸς ἐνῆεν·

590

For a hard foe is the Olympian to meet in strife. On a time before this, when I was striving to save you, he caught me by the foot and hurled me from the heavenly threshold; the whole day long I was carried headlong, and at sunset I fell in Lemnos, and but little life was in me. Homer Il. 20.32, 48-53, 67-75 [Theomachy I] βὰν δ’ ἴμεναι πόλεμον δὲ θεοὶ δίχα θυμὸν ἔχοντες· … αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ μεθ’ ὅμιλον Ὀλύμπιοι ἤλυθον ἀνδρῶν, ὦρτο δ’ Ἔρις κρατερὴ λαοσσόος, αὖε δ’ Ἀθήνη στᾶσ’ ὁτὲ μὲν παρὰ τάφρον ὀρυκτὴν τείχεος ἐκτός, ἄλλοτ’ ἐπ’ ἀκτάων ἐριδούπων μακρὸν ἀύ̈τει. αὖε δ’ Ἄρης ἑτέρωθεν ἐρεμνῇ λαίλαπι ἶσος ὀξὺ κατ’ ἀκροτάτης πόλιος Τρώεσσι κελεύων, … ἤτοι μὲν γὰρ ἔναντα Ποσειδάωνος ἄνακτος ἵστατ’ Ἀπόλλων Φοῖβος ἔχων ἰὰ πτερόεντα, ἄντα δ’ Ἐνυαλίοιο θεὰ γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη· Ἥρῃ δ’ ἀντέστη χρυσηλάκατος κελαδεινὴ Ἄρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα κασιγνήτη ἑκάτοιο· Λητοῖ δ’ ἀντέστη σῶκος ἐριούνιος Ἑρμῆς, ἄντα δ’ ἄρ’ Ἡφαίστοιο μέγας ποταμὸς βαθυδίνης, ὃν Ξάνθον καλέουσι θεοί, ἄνδρες δὲ Σκάμανδρον. ὣς οἳ μὲν θεοὶ ἄντα θεῶν ἴσαν·

50

70

75

196 And the gods went their way into the battle, … But when the Olympians were come into the midst of the throng of men, then up leapt mighty Strife, the rouser of hosts, and Athene cried aloud,--now would she stand beside the digged trench without the wall, and now upon the loud-sounding shores would she utter her loud cry. And over against her shouted Ares, dread as a dark whirlwind, calling with shrill tones to the Trojans from the topmost citadel … For against king Poseidon stood Phoebus Apollo with his winged arrows, and against Enyalius the goddess, flashing-eyed Athene; against Hera stood forth the huntress of the golden arrows, and the echoing chase, even the archer Artemis, sister of the god that strikes from afar; against Leto stood forth the strong helper, Hermes, and against Hephaestus the great, deep-eddying river, that god called Xanthus, and men Scamander. Thus gods went forth to meet with gods. Homer Il. 21.385-390, 509-513 [Theomachy II] ἐν δ’ ἄλλοισι θεοῖσιν ἔρις πέσε βεβριθυῖα ἀργαλέη, δίχα δέ σφιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ θυμὸς ἄητο· σὺν δ’ ἔπεσον μεγάλῳ πατάγῳ, βράχε δ’ εὐρεῖα χθών, ἀμφὶ δὲ σάλπιγξεν μέγας οὐρανός. ἄϊε δὲ Ζεὺς ἥμενος Οὐλύμπῳ· ἐγέλασσε δέ οἱ φίλον ἦτορ γηθοσύνῃ, ὅθ’ ὁρᾶτο θεοὺς ἔριδι ξυνιόντας. ... τίς νύ σε τοιάδ’ ἔρεξε φίλον τέκος Οὐρανιώνων μαψιδίως, ὡς εἴ τι κακὸν ῥέζουσαν ἐνωπῇ; τὸν δ’ αὖτε προσέειπεν ἐϋστέφανος κελαδεινή· σή μ’ ἄλοχος στυφέλιξε πάτερ λευκώλενος Ἥρη, ἐξ ἧς ἀθανάτοισιν ἔρις καὶ νεῖκος ἐφῆπται.

385

390 510

But upon the other gods fell strife heavy and grievous, and in diverse ways the spirit in their breasts was blown. Together then they clashed with a mighty din and the wide earth rang, and round about great heaven pealed as with a trumpet. And Zeus heard it where he sat upon Olympus, and the heart within him laughed aloud in joy as he beheld the gods joining in strife. ... Who now of the sons of heaven, dear child, has entreated you thus wantonly as though you were working some evil before the face of all? Then answered him the fair-crowned huntress of the echoing chase: Your wife it was that buffeted me, father, even white-armed Hera, from whom strife and contention have been made fast upon the immortals. Interpretation Clearly if the purpose of poetry, as Socrates portrays it as city-founder, is to model right conduct, stories that depict strife among the gods must be suppressed or altered in some way. While

197 Hephaestus is successful in creating a brief peace between Zeus and Hera in Book 1 of the Iliad, the result (and the goal aimed at) is the pleasure of the feast. In the end, there is no dialectical compromise among Homer’s gods, only violence and force, not unlike the perfectly unjust man imagined by Adeimantus (cf. Rep. 2.360e ff.). When the gods enter into open conflict in earnest in the Theomachy of Book 20, it is interesting to consider Zeus’ reaction: he engages in joyous laughter (cf. Il. 21.389-90). Not only does Zeus take pleasure in civil strife, but his raucous laughter, in Plato’s view, also reveals his own lack of self-control.52 In these citations, Plato anticipates the objection of those who would call these stories of divine strife allegorical – one of his main interpretive opponents – looking past the apparent immoralities of these tales to the “deeper truths” or “hidden meanings” they contain.53 He dismisses such interpretations as misguided, even irrelevant to his approach to the educational value of myth because “the youth can’t distinguish what is allegorical from what isn’t” (Rep. 2.378d7-8). For Plato, then, it is neither literal truth nor figurative truth that matters when it comes to storytelling. What matters is the potential moral effect of such stories. As we have seen throughout this study, Plato is most interested in guarding the public (particularly the youth) from the danger of the misinterpretation of certain poetic stories. And while Plato’s Socrates ends this section of the Republic in extremely playful fashion – claiming not to be a mythmaker himself – we shall see that Plato plays with the boundaries between myth and philosophy throughout the Republic, not in the least in such passages as The Myth of Er: 52

See Quotation 25 where Socrates cites the gods’ laughter as a poor model for youths who are trying to learn to moderate their emotions. 53 On authors who promulgated such allegorical interpretations, see Wolf ([1795] 1989, 161-6) and Jebb ([1898] 2009, 89). Dümmler (1882, 16 ff.) argues that Plato here is referring specifically to his rival, the allegorist Antisthenes. Tate (1929) remains perhaps the best scholarly treatment of Plato’s views on allegory. For a more modern treatment of Plato’s attitude toward allegory and myth, see Brisson (2004, esp. 27).

198 You and I, Adeimantus, aren’t poets, but we are founding a city. And it’s appropriate for the founders to know the patterns [τύπους, a2] on which poets must base their stories and from which they mustn’t deviate. But we aren’t actually going to compose their poems for them.54

Disputed Citation 3: Plato Rep. 2.379e4-380a1 : Sophocles Krisis (Cf. Homer Il. 20.4-25; “Stasinus” Cypria fr. 1.4-11 (Evelyn-White)) Interpretive Context Here Plato further develops the idea of divine strife, yet puts his focus not only on the problem of the gods engaging in strife in the first place, but also on the problem of the gods as a cause of strife. In this way, this allusion serves as a natural bridge, linking the problem of divine strife to the topic which we will consider next: gods as a cause of evil, a violation of Plato’s second tupos on literature: gods are only the cause of good. The precise referent of Plato’s citation at Rep. 2.379e4-2.380a1 is a subject of debate among scholars. Some scholars argue that the reference to Zeus and Thetis as the authors of “strife and judgment / contention” (ἔριν τε καὶ κρίσιν, e5) refers to the Theomachy from Book 20 of the Iliad.55 Other scholars argue that the passage refers to the Cypria.56 My own position is that while ἔριν τε καὶ κρίσιν almost certainly refers to the Judgment of Paris – an episode related in the Cypria, wherein Zeus and Themis are said to be responsible for the outbreak of the Trojan War – the citation in question is not an allusion but rather a quotation. What previous 54

Rep. 2.378e7-379a4. Most notably, Jowett & Campbell (1894, ad loc.) view Iliad Book 20 as the correct referent. 56 On this view, see esp. Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.). Stallbaum (1859) takes an intermediary position on the debate, arguing that ἔριν refers to the Theomachy and κρίσιν to the Judgment of Paris. 55

199 scholars have failed to notice about the Platonic passage is that it both rhymes (ἔριν ... κρίσιν; Θέμιτός ... Διός) and is in iambs (probably iambic dimeter). The more likely referent for the citation is a later retelling of the Cyprian story of the Judgment in Sophocles’ satyr play Krisis.57 The Krisis’ burlesque tone as a satyr play would have been a natural fit for both the unorthodox treatment58 of the genesis of the Trojan War and its internal rhyme. Finally, I shall argue that Plato’s allusion to the Judgment acts as a subtle criticism of Homer; it both passes him over as the authority for the genesis of the Trojan War and presents a version of the story with comic or parodic potential. At any rate, we shall discuss these issues in detail below after having set forth the relevant texts. Original Context Plato Rep. 2.379e4-380a1 ἐάν τις φῇ ... γεγονέναι, οὐκ ἐπαινεσόμεθα, οὐδὲ [θεῶν ἔριν τε καὶ κρίσιν διὰ Θέμιτός τε καὶ Διός,]

5

Theomachy Interpretation (Homer Iliad) [Socrates:] “if anyone tells us that Themis and Zeus were responsible for [the strife [ἔριν, e5] and contention [κρίσιν, e5] of the gods [θεῶν, e5],] we will not praise him.” Judgment of Paris Interpretation (“Stasinus” Cypria / Sophocles Krisis) [Socrates:] “If anyone tells us that Themis and Zeus were responsible for [the strife [ἔριν, e5] and judgment [κρίσιν, e5] of the goddesses [θεῶν, e5],] we will not praise him.” 57

Herodianus (Anec. Graec. Oxon. 3.295.10) confirms that the Krisis is satiric in nature. See J. Wilson (1979, 8) on the likely plot of Krisis. Pearson (1917, 139 ff.) has argued persuasively that the Eris and Krisis likely formed a pair, with the Eris being the more serious treatment of the Judgment, the Krisis, demonstrably a satyr play, more comical. 58 Given that the Judgment of Paris goes against Homer’s orthodox account of the genesis of the Trojan War, dramatists and other poets were loathe to refer to it in their own work, reducing as it does the origin of the greatest of the mythological sagas to, as one commentator puts it, “a divine beauty contest” (cf. Reinhardt 1960, 17). The one notable exception happens to be Euripides, who is well-known for his penchant for unusual and unorthodox mythic variants (cf. I. A. 12991309; Hel. 708; Hec. 639-48; Andr. 274-82.)

200 Homer Il. 20.4-6, 74 Ζεὺς δὲ Θέμιστα κέλευσε θεοὺς ἀγορὴν δὲ καλέσσαι κρατὸς ἀπ᾽ Οὐλύμποιο πολυπτύχου· ἣ δ᾽ ἄρα πάντῃ φοιτήσασα κέλευσε Διὸς πρὸς δῶμα νέεσθαι. ... ἔγνως ἐννοσίγαιε ἐμὴν ἐν στήθεσι βουλὴν ὧν ἕνεκα ξυνάγειρα· μέλουσί μοι ὀλλύμενοί περ. ἀλλ᾽ ἤτοι μὲν ἐγὼ μενέω πτυχὶ Οὐλύμποιο ἥμενος, ἔνθ᾽ ὁρόων φρένα τέρψομαι· οἳ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι ἔρχεσθ᾽ ὄφρ᾽ ἂν ἵκησθε μετὰ Τρῶας καὶ Ἀχαιούς, ἀμφοτέροισι δ᾽ ἀρήγεθ᾽ ὅπῃ νόος ἐστὶν ἑκάστου.

5

20

25

Zeus bade Themis summon the gods to the place of gathering from the brow of many-ribbed Olympus; and she sped everywhere, and bade them come to the house of Zeus ... [Zeus to Poseidon:] “You know, O Shaker of Earth, the purpose in my breast, for which I gathered you here; I have regard unto them, even though they die. Yet verily, for myself will I abide here sitting in a fold of Olympus, wherefrom I will gaze and make glad my heart; but do you others all go forth till you come among the Trojans and Achaeans, and bear aid to this side or that, even as the mind of each may be. “Stasinus” Cypria fr. 1.4-11 (Evelyn-White)59 Ζεὺς βουλεύεται μετὰ τῆς Θέμιδος περὶ τοῦ Τρωïκοῦ πολέμου· παραγενομένη δὲ Ἔρις εὐωχουμένων τῶν θεῶν ἐν τοῖς Πηλέως γάμοις, νεῖκος περὶ κάλλους ἐνίστησιν Ἀθηνᾶ, Ἥρᾳ καὶ Ἀφροδίτῃ, αἳ πρὸς Ἀλέξανδρον ἐν Ἴδῃ κατὰ Διὸς προσταγὴν ὑφ’ Ἑρμοῦ πρὸς τὴν κρίσιν ἄγονται· καὶ προκρίνει τὴν Ἀφροδίτην ἐπαρθεὶς τοῖς Ἑλένης γάμοις Ἀλέξανδρος.

5

10

4 Θέμιδος] Θέτιδος codd : Θέμιδος Heyne Zeus plans with Themis to bring about the Trojan war. Strife arrives while the gods are feasting at the marriage of Peleus and starts a dispute between Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite as to which of them is fairest. The three are led by Hermes at the command of Zeus to Alexander on Mount Ida for his decision, and Alexander, lured by his promised marriage with Helen, decides in favor of Aphrodite.

59

This fragment of the Cypria is preserved in Proclus’ Chrestomathy 1 (preserved in Photius’ Bibliotheca).

201 Interpretation Following the “Theomachy Interpretation,” some scholars have taken Plato’s text to be yet another reference – like Allusions 12 and 13 above – to the Theomachy from Book 20 of the Iliad, wherein Zeus asks Themis to summon the gods to do battle on either side of the Trojan War. W. R. Hardie was the first scholar to challenge this orthodox view, proposing that Plato was alluding to the Cypria instead.60 He bases his argument on the fact that Themis’ role in starting the Theomachy in the Iliad is so small: she merely acts as Zeus’ messenger and then recedes permanently into the background. What Hardie does not point out to advance his own argument is that the Platonic passage features a spelling of Themis (Θέμιδος) in the genitive that is contrary to the one found in Homer (Θέμιστος),61 suggesting a source for the story other than Homer. Hardie also points out that the only way to support an Iliadic referent is to disregard both the natural meaning of κρίσις and the natural target of the allusion to ἔρις and κρίσις.62 As Hardie points out, “contention” is hardly an acceptable translation for κρίσις.63 While the LSJ lists “dispute” as a meaning for κρίσις (cf. Hdt. 5.5, 7.26), it is not “dispute” in the sense of general rivalry or open battle, but rather dispute in terms of a differing judgment on a matter (περί τινος), to be reconciled through debate, especially in court. To support the idea that ἔρις and κρίσις more naturally refer to the Judgment of Paris, Hardie cites just one passage from Greek literature relating the story of the Judgment of Paris in precisely these terms.64 Supporters

60

Hardie 1890. Od. 2.68; see also the Homeric Hymn to Ares 8.4. For the spelling in Plato, see Bacchylides (15.55) and Pindar (Ol. 13.8). 62 Hardie 1890, 182. 63 Hardie 1890, 182. 64 Isocrates Helena 41-2. 61

202 of Hardie’s view, however, have thoroughly augmented this original reference. Adam notes Euripides’ Iphigenia at Aulis 1299-1309: Here one day came Pallas and Cypris of the subtle heart, Hera too and Hermes messenger of Zeus; Cypris, proud of the longing she causes, Pallas of her prowess; and Hera of her royal marriage with king Zeus; to decide a hateful strife (κρίσιν ἐπὶ στυγνὰν ἔριν, 1308) about their beauty.65 He also cites Euripides’ Helen 708: “[Menelaus to Messenger on the cause of the Trojan War:] It was the work of Hera, and the rivalry [ἔρις] of the three goddesses,” and his Trojan Women 924, where Helen explains how the Trojan War, at least in part, originated with the Judgment of Paris: “This man [i.e. Paris] was to judge [ἔκρινε] the claims of three rival goddesses.”66 As Adam points out, the Chorus in Euripides’ Hecuba 639-648 also discusses The Judgment of Paris in similar terms: For here begins trouble’s cycle, and, worse than that, relentless fate; and from one man’s folly came a universal curse, bringing death to the land of Simois, with trouble from an alien shore. The strife was decided (ἐκρίθη δ᾽ ἔρις, 644) as on Ida the shepherd judged (κρίνει, 645) between three daughters of the blessed gods. One Euripidean reference to the Judgment of Paris Adam fails to mention comes in his Andromache 274-282: Great were the woes—I see it now—that were set in motion when to the glen of Ida Hermes, son of Maia and of Zeus, came and brought the goddesses three, lovely team beneath a lovely yoke, helmeted for the fray, the hateful strife [ἔριδι, 279] for the prize of beauty, to the shepherd-lodge, to the solitary young man who tended the sheep and to his lonely hearth and home.

65

See also I. A. 579-80: “[Chorus to Paris:] Full-uddered cows were browsing at the spot where that verdict (κρίσις, 280) between goddesses was awaiting you.” 66 Immediately following, she uses the verb again (κρίνειεν, 928) to describe The Judgment.

203 It is significant to note that the majority of references to the Judgment of Paris outside of the Cypria occur in Euripides.67 As John R. Wilson argues, Euripides repeats a theme, that is to say the Judgment of Paris, “otherwise suited to Comedy and Satiric Drama.”68 While other poets, especially the other major tragedians, do not choose to challenge the authority of Homer’s recounting of events, Euripides does, a poet not surprisingly who is known for his interest in unique or provocative mythical variants.69 Indeed, Karl Reinhardt argues that Homer, to elevate the dignity of his subject matter, deflects attention away from the story of the Judgment of Paris, an ill-fitting belli causa as it amounts to little more than a divine beauty contest.70 The Cypria’s deviant account of the origins of the Trojan War, then, seems to support well Ruth Scodel’s tentative thesis – tentative as the evidence is only fragmentary – that the Cypria likely has a parodic tone: Even if the [Cypria’s] meager remains do not permit an argument that it was consistently or coherently hostile to war ... still, I have also come to suspect that the Cypria was, if not exactly funny or a parody ... permeated by a certain black humor about its subject.71 It is quite interesting, then, that Plato likely draws attention to this very story as related in the Cypria (and throughout Euripides). In this way not only does he circumvent Homeric authority, but he also discuses a mythic episode ripe with parodic potential (or at least an episode that is not terribly dignified). The most obvious objection to a Cyprian interpretation is that the reference to Themis in Proclus’ epitomy is an emendation. The codex reads Thetis (Θέτιδος), which Heyne emended 67

On Euripides’ affinity for the Cypria, see Scodel (2008, 227). J. Wilson 1979, 8. 69 On Euripides’ use of humor and parody, see Knox (1979) and Seidensticker (1982). 70 Reinhardt 1960. 71 Scodel 2008, 220. 68

204 to read Themis (Θέμιδος). The emendation, however, seems to be nearly beyond reproach.72 Indeed, it has been supported by all editors since its introduction in 1832.73 In the first place, a reference to Thetis conspiring to begin the Trojan War is thoroughly absurd, not in the least because of the personal suffering the war causes her due to the loss of her son, Achilles. There is also the fact that Thetis’ marriage to Peleus, which is related in the Cypria according to Proclus, would have been occurring simultaneously with her hatching the plot with Zeus to begin the Trojan War. Finally, what scholars have not pointed out is that physical evidence in the form of pottery also supports Heyne’s emendation of Themis. A vase, dated from the end of the 5th century BC, depicts Eris and Themis, distinguished by labeled inscriptions naming them, in the background of a scene depicting the Judgment.74 Further, it is not surprising that Themis rather than Thetis would have consulted with Zeus on the inception of the Trojan War, given her normal function as a deity who is a guardian of “right” and considering the fact that she is also depicted as an early consort of Zeus.75 With that said, it is fairly clear that in the passage in question, Plato is referring not to the Theomachy but rather to the Judgment of Paris. While the Cypria contains the story of the Judgment, it is not the only work in antiquity to have treated this episode. Given the evidence – namely the iambic meter of the passage and the internal rhyme – the most likely referent of

72

See Adam’s ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) support, as well as that of Kinkel (1877, ad loc.) and Jebb ([1898] 2009, 153). 73 Kinkel 1877, ad loc. See Haase (1984, 2:31.2) for well-reasoned support of Heyne’s emendation as well as further bibliography. 74 See Wiener Vorlegeblätter (1843, A. XI) as noted in Gardner (1905, 250). 75 See Pindar (fr. 30 [Bergk]) where Themis is referred to as Zeus’ “former spouse” (ἀρχαία ἄλοχος), having given birth to Eunomiê, Dikê, and Eirênê (“Law-and-Order,” “Justice,” and “Peace”); see also Il. 15.87 where Themis still appears as one of the Olympians.

205 Plato’s allusion is Sophocles’ Krisis.76 I have scanned the fragment below as an iambic dimeter, a common meter in Greek comedy, especially in choral interludes.77 I begin the quotation proper with the word οὐδὲ, as is suggested by the syntax of the Platonic sentence. Note that the indention and line breaks are my own, differing from the typical, modern editorial treatment: οὐδὲ scansion: metrical scheme:

|θεῶν ἔριν|τε καὶ κρίσιν | u- u - |u u | x- u - |x u -

scansion: metrical scheme:

δι[ὰ Θέμ]ιτός| τε καὶ Διός u[u u ]u - | u - u -78 x - u - | x - u-

The only unusual aspect of the scansion appears in the second line, with the resolution of the syllables -ὰ Θέ- (indicated above in brackets). While such “split resolution” is uncommon in tragedy, it does occur in comedy in moderation, as is well attested, especially in the case of proper names, as above.79 We can imagine that metrical rules in the context of a burlesque satyr play would have been as relaxed as they were in comedy. The internal rhyme clearly marks the passage out as a burlesque treatment of the subject of the Judgment. It would be highly unusual for as careful and sophisticated an author as Plato to have followed one rhyming phrase with another without having appreciated the comic 76

See the description of the Krisis in Athenaeus (15.687c, fr. 4.360-1 [Radt]: Σοφοκλῆς δ’ ὁ ποιητὴς ἐν Κρίσει τῷ δράματι τὴν μὲν Ἀφροδίτην ἡδονήν τινα οὖσαν δαίμονα [...] παράγει). The only other potential, though less likely candidates, are Sophocles’ play Eris, whose status as a satyr play is uncertain as is its theme, and Cratinus’ comedy Dionysalexandros, which J. Wilson (1979, 8) proposes treated the Judgment. 77 On this point, see Storey (1985). 78 I have taken the final syllable here to be long by default, as a “syllaba anceps.” 79 See especially L. P. E. Parker (1968); see also J. White (1912, §11), Devine (1994, 99 ff.), and Halporn ([1963] 1994, 88-9).

206 significance of such a pairing. In this way, the subtlety of Plato’s attack against Homer bears fruit. Not only does he pass over Homer as an authority for the events concerning the genesis of the Trojan War, but he does so with a reference that treats the entire mythic saga in a less-thanserious way. Finally, the passages’ coupling with Pandarus’ violation of the truce between the Greek and Trojan armies (see Allusion 14 below) perhaps even lends credence to the idea that the referent of Plato’s allusion is the Judgment of Paris. Both passages concern the origin of conflict at Troy. The Judgment, of course, deals with the ultimate origin, whereas Pandarus’ breaking of the truce provides the impetus for the reestablishment of hostilities at Troy, thanks again to the petty squabbling and meddling of the Olympian deities. A further link between the two stories lay in the fact that in the “catalogue” of Trojan leaders, Pandarus is named as leader of the men who lived right below the foot of Mount Ida (Il. 2.824-7), the famous setting for the Judgment itself.

5. Tupos II (Gods Only Cause Good)

καὶ γὰρ ὅστις ἂν βροτῶν 440 κακὸς πεφύκῃ, ζημιοῦσιν οἱ θεοί. πῶς οὖν δίκαιον τοὺς νόμους ὑμᾶς βροτοῖς γράψαντας, αὐτοὺς ἀνομίαν ὀφλισκάνειν; ... τὰς ἡδονὰς γὰρ τῆς προμηθίας πάρος σπεύδοντες ἀδικεῖτ᾽. οὐκέτ᾽ ἀνθρώπους κακῶς λέγειν δίκαιον, εἰ τὰ τῶν θεῶν καλὰ 450 μιμούμεθ᾽, ἀλλὰ τοὺς διδάσκοντας τάδε. (Euripides Ion 440-443, 448-451)

207 [Ion:] “If any mortal is bad, the gods punish him. How then is it just for you to write laws for mortals, and yourselves incur a charge of lawlessness? ... For you do wrong to go eagerly after your pleasures without thinking. No longer is it just to speak badly of men, if we imitate what the gods think good, but rather of the ones who taught us these things.”

Quotation 10: Plato Rep. 2.379d3, 6, 8 : Homer Il. 24.527, 530, 532 (Cf. Pindar Pythian 3.8182) & Paraphrase 3: Plato Rep. 2.379d4-5, 7 : Homer Il. 24.528-529, 531 Interpretive Context In the two-part citation above and in the three citations to follow, we shall discuss how Plato treats the classical theological problem of the origin of evil. He confronts the poetic tradition directly, which holds that gods are responsible for both good and evil in human life.80 While Plato’s Socrates accepts that there is more evil than good in the world – “good things are fewer than bad ones in our lives” (Rep. 2.379c4-5) – he insists that the origin of evil lay in man rather than god. Like his previous “proof” regarding tupos I (the gods do not change), Socrates here will assert his worldview as a moral or religious truth, arguing for its veracity in terms of the positive or beneficial results which accrue to the individual and society for holding such a belief. As Socrates asserts, if a city is to be well-governed, ultimately stories naming gods as the cause of evil must be rejected because “these stories are not pious [ὅσια, c2], nor advantageous 80

Plato certainly had his choice of poets and passages here, though he chooses to confront Homer directly. In Homer, Plato could have also cited Il. 19.86-9 or Od. 1.32-3. Among other poets, he could have used Solon (fr. 4; 11 [West]) or Aeschylus (Pers. 93-4; Ag. 1485). On the radical nature of Plato’s understanding of “the problem of evil” see Else (1986, 21), Saunders (1987, 301-2), and Halliwell (1988, ad 617e4-5).

208 [σύμφορα, c3] to us, and not consistent with one another” (Rep. 2.380c2-3). Indeed, such stories are particularly dangerous according to the argument of the Republic because they are capable of corrupting both young and old alike (Rep. 2.380c1). The “proof,” then, for tupos II (gods only cause good) in Rep. 2.379a-b works as follows: god is good; nothing good is harmful or thus the cause of anything bad; therefore the good is beneficial; thus the good is not the cause of everything, but only good things; in conclusion, then, “since god is good, he is not ... the cause of everything that happens to human beings but of only ... good things” (Rep. 2.379c2-6). Socrates concludes that the cause of bad things must be sought from some place other than the gods.81 The immediate implications of such a view are that stories that claim that the gods cause evil for men cannot be accepted; the evil which befalls man in these stories is the creation of the poets, not the gods. To introduce the Homeric quotation we are considering, Socrates notes the “foolish mistake” Homer makes in regard to the origin of evil in the world, namely the idea that Zeus distributes good and evil to man willy-nilly from urns sitting on his floor. In Homer, “The Myth of the Urns” is told by Achilles, when Priam comes to recover Hector’s body. With both men suffering from grief – Achilles for his father and Patroclus, Priam for his fallen children and kingdom – Achilles argues that there is no use in lamentation. For Achilles, life is essentially tragic, unjust. While the gods themselves are “sorrowless” (ἀκηδέες, Il. 24.526), “[they] have spun the thread for wretched mortals, that they should live in pain” (Il.

81

Socrates explains at Rep. 2.380a7-b1 that punishments, while they can be perceived as bad, must be explained by the poets as ultimately beneficial for wrongdoers: “we won’t allow poets to say that the punished are made wretched and that it was a god who made them so. But we will allow them to say that bad people are wretched because they are in need of punishment and that, in paying the penalty, they are benefitted by the gods.”

209 24.526-7). And so offering his own understanding of “justice,” or the problem of evil, Achilles tells Priam how Zeus arbitrarily metes out good and bad fortune to man. Original Context Plato Rep. 2.379c9-d8 Οὐκ ἄρα, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ἀποδεκτέον οὔτε Ὁμήρου οὔτ’ ἄλλου ποιητοῦ ταύτην τὴν ἁμαρτίαν περὶ τοὺς θεοὺς ἀνοήτως d ἁμαρτάνοντος καὶ λέγοντος— [ὡς δοιοί τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει κηρῶν ἔμπλειοι, ὁ μὲν ἐσθλῶν, αὐτὰρ ὃ δειλῶν· καὶ ᾧ μὲν ἂν μείξας ὁ Ζεὺς δῷ ἀμφοτέρων, 5 ἄλλοτε μέν τε κακῷ ὅ γε κύρεται, ἄλλοτε δ’ ἐσθλῷ· ᾧ δ’ ἂν μή, ἀλλ’ ἄκρατα τὰ ἕτερα, τὸν δὲ κακὴ βούβρωστις ἐπὶ χθόνα δῖαν ἐλαύνει·] [Socrates:] “Then we mustn’t accept either from Homer or from another poet that mistake [ἁμαρτίαν, d1] that they make about the gods when they foolishly [ἀνοήτως, d1] make a mistake [ἁμαρτάνοντος, d2] saying: ‘That upon the floor of Zeus stand two urns full of fates, the one of good things, the other of base things;’ and the man to whom he gives a mixture of both of these, ‘that man meets now with evil, now with good; for him with no mixture, there are the things of the second urn ‘and direful madness drives him over the face of the sacred earth.” Homer Il. 24.525-532 ὡς γὰρ ἐπεκλώσαντο θεοὶ δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι ζώειν ἀχνυμένοις· αὐτοὶ δέ τ’ ἀκηδέες εἰσί. [δοιοὶ γάρ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει δώρων οἷα δίδωσι κακῶν, ἕτερος δὲ ἑάων· ᾧ μέν κ’ ἀμμίξας δώῃ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος, ἄλλοτε μέν τε κακῷ ὅ γε κύρεται, ἄλλοτε δ’ ἐσθλῷ· ᾧ δέ κε τῶν λυγρῶν δώῃ, λωβητὸν ἔθηκε, καί ἑ κακὴ βούβρωστις ἐπὶ χθόνα δῖαν ἐλαύνει,]

525

530

“Platonic” Translation For on this wise have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals, that they should live in pain; and themselves are sorrowless. [For upon the floor of Zeus stand two urns of the gifts that he gives, [the one] of evils, the other of blessings. To whomsoever Zeus, who hurls the

210 thunderbolt, gives a mingled lot, that man meets now with evil, now with good; but to whomsoever he gives but of the baneful urns, him he makes to be reviled of man, and direful madness drives him over the face of the sacred earth.] “Pindaric” Translation For on this wise have the gods spun the thread for wretched mortals, that they should live in pain; and themselves are sorrowless. [For upon the floor of Zeus stand two urns of the evil gifts that he gives, and [there is] another [jar] of blessings. ... I have offered two translations of the Homeric passage because even in antiquity the ambiguity of lines 527-528 was often noted as a kind of “Homeric problem”.82 I have “named” the translations “Platonic” and “Pindaric” respectively, because these authors, in their adaptations or rather interpretations of the Homeric passage, have taken the lines differently. Plato takes the total number of urns to be two: one of evil, the other of good. Pindar, however, in Pythian 3.8182, interprets the number of urns to be three: two of evil, one of good: εἰ δὲ λόγων συνέμεν κορυφάν, Ἱέρων, ὀρθὰν ἐπίστᾳ, μανθάνων οἶσθα 80 προτέρων· “ἓν παρ᾽ ἐσλὸν πήματα σύνδυο δαίονται βροτοῖς ἀθάνατοι.” τὰ μὲν ὦν οὐ δύνανται νήπιοι κόσμῳ φέρειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἀγαθοί, τὰ καλὰ τρέψαντες ἔξω. Hieron, if you are skilled in understanding the true essence of words, you have learned and know the saying of former times: “The immortals dispense to men two pains for every blessing.” Fools cannot bear their pain with grace, but noble men can, by turning the good side outwards.

82

On the antiquity of certain “Homeric Problems,” see Bérard (1924-5, 309) and Fera (1986, 859). On the antiquity of this particular problem, see Lohse (1964, 12). As Labarbe (1949, 279) states, “Dans la Grèce classique, c’était déjà un exercice intellectuel ordinaire que de s’essayer à résoudre les apories créées par le texte homérique.” Aristotle’s lost treatise on “Homeric Problems,” some parts of which survive in scholia and the secondary tradition, is partially summarized at Poetics 1460b6 ff.

211 It is quite probable – a reading which Lohse endorses –83 that the “other poet” (ἄλλου ποιητοῦ, c9-d1) that Plato refers to in his introduction to this Homeric quotation is none other than Pindar, a poet who both interprets Homer’s lines incorrectly (or at least needlessly pessimistically) in Plato’s view and who himself buys into the tragic, Homeric worldview. It is also possible, however, that ἄλλου ποιητοῦ is meant to be taken broadly here, distributed to the other citations in this whole sequence that criticize “other poets” for endorsing the view that the gods cause evil as well as good. There is no way of determining whether Plato’s or Pindar’s interpretation of “The Myth of the Urns” is correct, though scholars have argued in favor of one or the other interpretation.84 The meaning of the passage is entirely dependent on how the semantic units of the passage are divided up, a division that is not at all explicit in the Greek. Modern editors have showed, perhaps unwittingly, their favor of one interpretation or the other, however, by their use of punctuation. The “Platonic” version, with two urns, for example, requires a comma in line 528 after δίδωσι to make it clear to the reader that κακῶν and ἑάων are meant to balance one another:85 δοιοὶ γάρ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει δώρων οἷα δίδωσι, κακῶν ἕτερος δὲ ἑάων (“For upon the floor of Zeus stand two urns of the gifts that he gives, [the one] of evils, the other of blessings”). Plato reflects this interpretation in his own paraphrase of the Homeric original: κηρῶν ἔμπλειοι, ὁ μὲν ἐσθλῶν, αὐτὰρ ὃ δειλῶν. To justify the 83

Lohse 1964, 116. Ludwich (1898, 114), however, argues that Plato gives not an alternate version of Homer’s verse, but a verse from “another poet” which has not survived from antiquity. 84 Supporters of the “Platonic” version include Drachmann (1910, 82 n. 5), Lohse (1964, 12), Macleod (1982, 133), and numerous editors, including Ameis & Hentze (1844), Monro & Allen ([1902] 1978), and Willcock (1984). Supporters of the “Pindaric” version include Greene (1944, 232 ff.), Kitto ([1951] 2009, 60), and Young (1968, 51). Robbins (1990, 313-4) argues that Pindar himself is aware of the ambiguity and uses it to his advantage in his own poem. 85 Indeed, this very punctuation is recommended by the Homeric scholiast A at line 528.

212 “Pindaric” version in favor of three urns, we must assume a comma immediately after κακῶν (as reproduced in Slings’ Republic text above) so as to indicate that “two” (δοιοὶ) is meant only to apply directly to κακῶν, with ἑάων taken explicitly as a “second,” that is to say a ἕτερος element: δοιοὶ γάρ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει δώρων οἷα δίδωσι κακῶν, ἕτερος δὲ ἑάων (“For upon the floor of Zeus stand two urns of the evil gifts that he gives, and [there is] another [jar] of blessings”). Indeed, the precise meaning of the passage depends not only on the division of semantic units as noted above but also on the precise meaning of ἕτερος. Plato has taken ἕτερος in its more common sense, to refer to “the other” in the sense of “one of exactly two.” Indeed, reading the text via Plato, we are right to assume a ἕτερος μὲν – which is more often implied in Greek poetry, while in prose it is commonly explicitly indicated –86 standing before κακῶν as follows: δώρων οἷα δίδωσι [ἕτερος μὲν] κακῶν, ἕτερος δὲ ἑάων. Such an interpretation no doubt is fair and certainly in Plato’s theological interest. Given the choice of a 2:1 ratio of bad to good or a 1:1 ratio, it is natural that Plato should rule in favor of the more equal distribution. As Walter Leaf puts it – though Leaf means to criticize Plato’s “sloppy” method of interpreting Homer – “this is more careless than the average of Plato’s citations, but it at least shews that he took the line as indicating only two jars, not three; though he has to wrest his text in order to make this meaning clear.”87 Plato’s interpretation of ἕτερος here, however, is not the only possible one. While some modern scholars and indeed Pindar’s scholiast have mistakenly assumed that ἕτερος must refer 86

See, e.g., Demosthenes (14.10) and Plato (Hipp. Min. 365c; Ion 531e). See, however, its explicit use at Il. 7.418, 22.157, and Il.16.249-50, where Achilles prays to Zeus on behalf of Patroclus: “So spoke he in prayer, and Zeus, the counselor, heard him, and one part (ἕτερον μὲν, 250) the Father granted him, and the other part (ἕτερον δ’) denied.” 87 Leaf 1900-2, ad loc.

213 only to one of two distinct things, in point of fact, ἕτερος may operate differently in Greek. ἕτερος can also refer to pluralities that, when taken as a unit, can be part of a “one and another” relationship. In Pindar, then, the two urns of evil are “the one” and the one urn of good is “the other.” Indeed, quite often this is the way ἕτερος operates in Homer’s own work.88 At Il. 13.470-4, for example, ἕτερος, in conjunction with ἄλλος, is used in a list of not two but four: “To one man (ἄλλῳ μὲν, 730) has God given works of war, to another (ἄλλῳ δ’, 731) the dance, to another (ἑτέρῳ, 732) the lyre and song, and in the breast of another (ἄλλῳ δ’, 734) Zeus, whose voice is borne afar, puts a mind of understanding.” Texts Plato Rep. 2.379d3-d8 [ὡς δοιοί πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει κηρῶν ἔμπλειοι, ὁ μὲν ἐσθλῶν, αὐτὰρ ὃ δειλῶν· καὶ ᾧ μὲν ἂν μείξας ὁ Ζεὺς δῷ ἀμφοτέρων, ἄλλοτε μέν τε κακῷ ὅ γε κύρεται, ἄλλοτε δ’ ἐσθλῷ· ᾧ δ’ ἂν μή, ἀλλ’ ἄκρατα τὰ ἕτερα, τὸν δὲ κακὴ βούβρωστις ἐπὶ χθόνα δῖαν ἐλαύνει·]

5

d3 δοιοί] δοιοί A T D M Eusebius : δοιοί τε F d5 ἂν μείξας] ἄν μίξας A F D M Eusebius : ἀμμίξας al. δῷ ἀμφοτέρων] δῷ ἀμφοτέρων A D M : ἀμφοτέρων δῷ F Eusebius89 d6 τε] τε A T D M : γε Par. Eusebius κακῷ] κακῶν Eusebius κύρεται] κύρεται A D M : τείρεται F ἐσθλῷ] ἐσθλῶν Eusebius Homer Il. 24.527-532 [δοιοὶ γάρ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει δώρων οἷα δίδωσι κακῶν, ἕτερος δὲ ἑάων· 88

See ἕτερος used to refer to groups of Trojans and Greeks at Il. 11.71 and Il. 16.771, groups of Greeks only at Il. 7.418, 16.173, and 16.179, and pairs of parents at Il. 20.210. See further examples in Leaf (1900-2, ad loc.) as well as Kühner (1904) and LSJ, which cites under ἕτερος II, Hes. Th. 367, Bacch. 10.42, et al. 89 The inversion of δῷ ἀμφοτέρων in F and Eusebius is the result of a scribe attempting to preserve a hexameter, incorrectly in this case as Plato is paraphrasing Homer rather than quoting him directly.

214 ᾧ μέν κ’ ἀμμίξας δώῃ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος, ἄλλοτε μέν τε κακῷ ὅ γε κύρεται, ἄλλοτε δ’ ἐσθλῷ· ᾧ δέ κε τῶν λυγρῶν δώῃ, λωβητὸν ἔθηκε, καί ἑ κακὴ βούβρωστις ἐπὶ χθόνα δῖαν ἐλαύνει,]

530

Textual Differences This passage has received perhaps more scholarly attention than any other Homeric citation in Plato. Many commentators have explained the differences in Plato’s text by not explaining them, by calling them a result of Plato’s faulty memory.90 Since Labarbe, however, scholars such as Lohse and Mitscherling have offered more thorough and thoughtful analyses of the misquotation. 1) ὡς (d5) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience; Modern Editorial Error] Typical of his practice, Plato has Socrates quote Homer using oratio obliqua, introduced by λέγοντος ὡς, naturally absent in the original, Homeric passage.91 2) γάρ τε (227) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience; Modern Editorial Error] Plato does not include γὰρ τε in his quotation of the Homeric original. This is syntactically necessary or “convenient” as he does not include the previous verses referred to by γὰρ in his quotation. In F, while γὰρ is missing, the manuscript still includes a τε, with the line in full reading: ὡς δοιοὶ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει. John Burnet adopts the reading of F

90

See P. Murray ([1996] 2007, ad loc.), who also argues that Plato also adapts Homer’s text to suit its new context. The flaws of the approach of Howes (1895, 205) have been pointed out by Tarrant (1951, 62) and Mitscherling (2008). 91 See Labarbe (1949), Lohse (1964), and Mitscherling (2008).

215 presumably because the addition of τε causes the line to scan as a perfect hexameter.92 Labarbe and Lohse, however, are right in faulting Burnet’s editorial decision here. First, we have already seen how common it is for Plato the disregard meter in his citations of Homer, particularly in the first line.93 Secondly, τε only exists in the first place in the Homeric original as an emphatic particle associated with γὰρ.94 In the absence of γὰρ – an absence attested in F itself as well as the whole manuscript and secondary tradition – τε is unnecessary. F’s inclusion of τε, then, is typical of the editorial practice of the scribe of F, who appears to “correct” Plato’s quotations so that they are in accord with the Homeric text.95 We must content ourselves with accepting, as Gottfried Stallbaum, Karl Friedrich Hermann, and Labarbe do,96 that κατακείαται stands at the beginning of the metrical, verbatim portion of the quotation. 3) κηρῶν ἔμπλειοι, ὁ μὲν ἐσθλῶν, αὐτὰρ ὃ δειλῶν (d4) : “[the jars] are filled with Dooms, one of blessings, the other of gifts that are evil” δώρων οἷα δίδωσι κακῶν, ἕτερος δὲ ἑάων (328) [Invention; Paraphrase] “for the gifts they bestow: an urn of evils, an urn of blessings” The Platonic line, as noted above, appears to be an invention of Plato himself, the purpose of which is to resolve and perhaps even point out Homer’s “mistake” both in attributing the cause of evil to the gods and in doing so in such a way that it is not even clear how many urns are meant. In support of this interpretation, note the punning redundancy of the use of forms of

92

The problem, as Labarbe (1949, 276) points out, is that to consider the line a perfect hexameter, the conjunction ὡς – used only to introduce the quotation – is taken as part of the quotation proper. 93 See Quotation 1 (Textual Differences 1), Quotation 3 (Textual Differences 1), Allusion 4, and Paraphrase 4. 94 Leeuwen 1918, 411. See also the suppression of τε in Quotation 8. 95 Lohse 1965, 278. On this same point, see also Labarbe (1949, 166, 176). In this study, see Quotation 8, 11, 12, 14, 37, and 41. 96 Hermann 1852; Stallbaum 1859; Labarbe 1949, 276.

216 ἁμαρτία (cf. ἁμαρτίαν, d1; ἁμαρτάνοντος, d2), used to introduce the citation, suggesting that Homer’s “mistake” operates on several levels at once. As Lohse reads Plato’s paraphrase, Der in der homerischen Fassung mißverstandliche Vers mußte das Zitat unnötig belasten, deshalb entschloß sich Platon, ihm eine eindeutige Fassung zu geben, d.h. er gab auch hier durch eine Änderung des homerischen Wortlauts dem Zitat einen Zuschnitt, der seinem Zweck am besten entsprach. Insofern liegt die Änderung in unserem Zitat auf einer Linie mit anderen Änderungen, die wir bei Platon finden. Die Erkenntnis, daß Platon den Homer rund heraus verbesserte, sollte uns ebenfalls nicht erschrekken, Platon sah, daß Homer tatsächlich ein wenig eingenickt war, als der Vers 528 entstand.97 While some scholars without any evidence have argued that Plato’s text derives from an alternate textual tradition of Homer that did not survive,98 the analyses of Labarbe and Lohse seem clearly to demonstrate otherwise,99 as they point out ways in which Plato’s line is not Homeric in terms of its diction, syntax, or rhythm.100 I summarize their findings below: a) κηρῶν101 i) of the 79 times κήρ is used in Homer, it never occurs in the genitive plural, as it does in Plato.

97

Lohse 1964, 15-6. Lohse (1964, 16 n. 32) cites other places in the Platonic corpus where Plato treats Homer’s verse similarly: Hipp. min. 365a-b and 370b-c. 98 See A. B. Cook (1925, 1068), e.g., who calls Plato’s variant: “good evidence of the preAristarchean text.” 99 Labarbe 1949, 279; Lohse 1964, 10-8. Despite Labarbe’s findings in this respect, he still inexplicably maintains that Plato’s line derives from a pre-Aristarchan recension. 100 Labarbe (1949, 278) points out the way in which the vulgate version is typical of Homeric style. Labarbe’s conclusion about the origin of Plato’s version of line 528, then, is truly inexplicable in that despite its demonstrably non-Homeric nature and its attestation in only late sources (which in all likelihood derive ultimately from Plato himself) he takes it as evidence of an alternate, pre-Aristarchan recension. It seems Labarbe here is so intent on proving his thesis, namely that the oral tradition was responsible for the variants in his Homeric citations, that he is intent on ignoring the or rather his own evidence. 101 On the force of κήρ, see Wolf ([1795] 1989, 37), Howes (1895, 204), and Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.).

217 ii) κήρ only stands at the beginning of a verse in Homer once (cf. Il. 13.282, κῆρας). iii) κήρ in Plato is used in an unusual sense. In both Homer and Hesiod, κήρ refers to “doom” only in the sense of evil, not, as in Plato’s quotation here, to both good and evil.102 b) δειλῶν i) of the 39 times forms of the word δειλός are used in Homer, the word never occurs in the sixth foot of the hexameter.103 ii) like ἐσθλῶν, δειλῶν is feminine, despite the fact that both adjectives are unattested in epic in any gender besides the masculine. iii) The adjective δειλός only refers to persons in epic, never to things.104 The only thing that complicates Lohse’s and Labarbe’s findings in support of the view that Plato’s text does not derive from an alternate recension of Homer is that the secondary tradition in places does agree with Plato’s text.105 That Eusebius and Proclus agree with Plato’s text, however, is to be expected. At Praeparatio Evangelica 13.3.10, Eusebius is in the midst of quoting Rep. 2.377c-383c.106 Proclus, likewise, at 1.96.14 f. (Kroll) follows Plato’s text in the midst of his commentary on the Republic.

102

On this point, see Ebeling (1880-5, κήρ) and Labarbe (1949, 279). In Homer, see Il. 8.70 (= Il. 22.210; Od. 11.171). 103 Gehring 1895, δειλός. 104 Meister 1921, 172 n. 2. 105 A second hand in P15 – a 13th century manuscript – includes a verbatim version of Plato’s line; however, there can be little doubt that the marginal addition is anything but evidence that some scribe was familiar with Plato’s treatment of the line. 106 Eusebius’ text features some minor divergences from Plato’s text, all noted above in the critical apparatus for Plato’s text.

218 The case of Plutarch is somewhat more complicated. At Moralia 24b and 600d, he follows Plato in verse 428.107 At Moralia 105c, however, he follows Homer. While Labarbe feels that Plutarch is not influenced here at all by the Republic – giving no reason for his opinion – I think otherwise. Taking a closer look at the context of Plutarch’s quotations, it is clear at Moralia 24b that he uses Plato’s text and at Moralia 600b, Homer’s text. We must keep in mind, first of all, the vast size of Plutarch’s Moralia. Expecting total consistency in Plutarch’s use of texts is not reasonable. At 24b and 600d, the passages in which Plutarch follows Plato, the contexts suggest a Platonic reading. At 24b Plutarch is seeking, like Plato, to “correct” (ἐπανορθωτέον) “odd, strange, or unnatural” (ἀτόπως) statements about Zeus. In imitation of Plato, he cites Il. 24.527-528 with disapprobation, and thus naturally follows Plato’s version of the text.108 At 600d, Plutarch quotes the Homeric passage in an essay, On Exile, with a pronounced Platonic character, one that includes allusions to the Phaedrus, Timaeus, and Phaedo, suggesting that Plutarch could very well have had Plato’s text in hand while writing.109 At 105c, on the other hand, Plutarch quotes Il. 24.527-8 in the context of a much larger Homeric passage, stretching from line 522 to 533, suggesting that here he had his copy of Homer by his side instead.110 If we are to consider Plato’s version of Homer’s line 528 an invention, it is worthwhile to discuss further the significant ways in which Plato’s text deviates from Homer’s. First he replaces Homer’s δώρων with the metrically equivalent κηρῶν. As noted above, Plato’s use of 107

Strangely, however, unlike Plato, Plutarch includes Il. 24.427 in full (δοιοὶ γάρ τε πίθοι κατακείαται ἐν Διὸς οὔδει), including Homer’s γάρ τε, superfluous in its new context. 108 At 473b, Plutarch offers a pseudo-Platonic interpretation as he alludes to (rather than quotes) Il. 24.527-8, arguing that good and evil are not in Zeus’ urns but reside in men’s passions. 109 Lohse (1964, 15 n. 30) also argues that Plutarch is merely following Plato here, not standing as testimony to an alternate recension of the text. 110 In all ways, Plutarch’s text here happens to agree perfectly with our vulgate.

219 κηρῶν is non-Homeric. In making this substitution, Plato is perhaps further “correcting” the “foolish mistakes” of Homer’s theology. For one, he uses a negative word, κηρῶν, in a neutral sense, thus transmuting the idea that the fate one receives from god must necessarily be negative. By the same token, Plato avoids the use of the word δώρων, given its awkwardness in its original context, as a fate of unmixed evil can hardly be said to be a “gift.” Plato also changes the order of the presentation of good and bad fates; Plato reads ἐσθλῶν ... δειλῶν while Homer reads κακῶν ... ἑάων. In this way, Plato reduces both the proportion of good to bad in human life and puts the good fate in primary position.111 In addition, the terms Plato uses for good and bad represent important divergences from Homer. While Homer uses ἑάων and κακῶν for good and bad respectively,112 Plato uses ἐσθλῶν ... δειλῶν, replacing the obscure epic word ἑάων and introducing explicitly moral terms for good and bad, perhaps implying – in spite of the Homeric context – that one’s fate is the result of moral decision making rather than the arbitrary will of a deity. 4) καὶ ᾧ μὲν ἂν μείξας ὁ Ζεὺς δῷ ἀμφοτέρων (d5) : ᾧ μέν κ’ ἀμμίξας δώῃ Ζεὺς τερπικέραυνος (529) [Invention; Paraphrase] While Howes takes Plato’s paraphrase of line 529 as evidence that Plato “knew the exact words of only a part of the Homeric passage,” this is not likely the case given Plato’s vast and accurate knowledge of Homer in general and the fact that such a conclusion, as Howes himself admits, leads us to assume that Plato thought that he was quoting 528 exactly, since it, unlike 529, is in

111

P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 144) makes this point in somewhat stronger fashion: “Plato reverses the order because he wants to show that god is the cause of good.” 112 On the oddities of ἑάων, see Leeuwen (1918, 185), Chantraine (1942, 22, 201), Labarbe (1949, 278), and Meister (1921, 172).

220 meter.113 At any rate, Plato’s paraphrase is fairly close to Homer. The change from the dominant manuscript reading of ἂν μείξας (A F D M Eusebius) to ἄν μίξας seems somewhat unnecessary. There is no evidence whether or not Plato favored an (ἐ)μείξ- or (ἐ)μίξ- stem for the aorist of μ(ε)ίγνυμι; further in the aorist passive he indiscriminately uses either (ἐ)μειχθ- or (ἐ)μιγ-.114 The other change in Plato’s text here, of Homer’s κ’ to ἂν, is a natural, Attic substitution. In the same manner, Plato changes Homer’s δώῃ to δῷ. Finally, Plato disregards Homer’s epithet for Zeus – typical of Plato’s eschewing of Homeric ornamentation –115 sacrificing it in favor of presenting his view even more clearly that only two urns are in question in the passage, by using the word ἀμφοτέρων. 5) ᾧ δ’ ἂν μή, ἀλλ’ ἄκρατα τὰ ἕτερα (d7) : ᾧ δέ κε τῶν λυγρῶν δώῃ, λωβητὸν ἔθηκε [Paraphrase; Invention] While Plato’s line preserves Homer’s initial dative relative pronoun and indeed expresses basically the same idea as the Homeric text, Plato does so in a more detached, factual way. He avoids the potential emotional excess of a word such as λυγρῶν and the tragic, excessively pessimistic tone of Homer’s λωβητὸν ἔθηκε. 6) τὸν δὲ (d8) : καί ἑ (532) [Atticism; Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience]

113

For a critique of Howes’ view, namely his mistaken assumption that Plato was writing in a “bibliographical vacuum,” see esp. Mitscherling (2008, 392). 114 In all instances of the aorist of μ(ε)ίγνυμι in Plato, it appears in participial form. For (ἐ)μειχθ- see Phil. 46c (μειχθείσας), 50e (μειχθείσας), 61b (μειχθέντι), Tim. 36b5 (μειχθέν), 59c3 (μειχθέν), 63e10 (μειχθεῖσα), and Laws 8.837d (μειχθεὶς), 8.838c (μειχθέντας). For (ἐ)μιγ- see Rep. 6.490b5 (μιγεὶς), 8.547a2 (μιγέντος). 115 See esp. Paraphrase 5 and 6 and Quotations 22, 32, and 38.

221 Since Plato has disregarded Homer’s phrase λωβητὴν ἔθηκε from verse 531, Plato omits Homer’s καί, out-of-place in its new context. Accordingly, Plato replaces Homer’s epic ἑ with τὸν, in the end neatly replacing Homer’s καί ἑ with the metrically equivalent τὸν δὲ. Interpretation Plato’s treatment of Homer’s views on the problem of evil is hardly fair. To attribute the words of the character Achilles to the poet himself would be as inaccurate as attributing the arguments of Thrasymachus to Plato himself. The point for Plato, however, is that such material cannot exist in the first place and be used as an educational text, if the goal is to create an ideal educational system. We should not assume that Plato does not agree that evil exists in the world; it is just that to him it is not primarily the result of fate but of the actions of man himself. In the absence of a rational world order, in the pre-philosophic world of Homer, where the gods distribute good and evil at random, there is no compelling motivation for someone to pursue just or virtuous action. In replacing, revising, and rewriting the poetic canon, however, Plato seeks to provide a rational basis for pursuing justice. He wants to argue that justice is a worthy end in and of itself, regardless of its consequences. Finally, we would be remiss not to point out that at Odyssey 1.32-34, “Homer” presents a very different explanation for the problem of evil than the one criticized by Plato in Il. 24.527532. At Odyssey 1.32-34, Homer puts an alternate theology in the mouth of Zeus himself, in terms Plato, no doubt, would have approved of. Zeus argues that man himself is responsible for the evil that enters his life: Look you now, how ready mortals are to blame the gods. It is from us, they say, that evils [κάκ᾽, 33] come, but they even of themselves, through their own blind folly [ἀτασθαλίῃσιν, 34], have sorrows beyond that which is ordained.

222

Paraphrase 4: Plato Rep. 2.379e1-2 : (A conflation of) Homer Il. 4.84 (=Il. 19.224) & Od. 4.237 (Cf. Homer Od. 4.492; Hesiod Works and Days 665-669; Pindar Isthmian 5.52-3; Euripides Medea 1415; Isocrates 11.13) Interpretive Context Immediately after citing the “Myth of the Urns” from Il. 24.527-532, Plato’s Socrates at Rep. 2.379e1-2 finds another poetic line worthy of attack: “We can’t accept either that ... Zeus, the dispenser, is the cause of both good and bad.” This line in Plato does not happen to correspond exactly to any one surviving line of Homer (or any other poet for that matter), but rather seems to be a rough approximation of a poetic commonplace. Original Context Plato Rep. 2.379e1-2 οὐδ’ ὡς [ταμίας ἡμῖν Ζεὺς-ἀγαθῶν τε κακῶν τε τέτυκται.])

e

[Socrates:] “We can’t accept either that [Zeus, the dispenser for us, ‘is the cause of both good and bad.”] The best explanation for Plato’s novel line is given by Lohse and Murray,116 who argue independently that Plato has conflated Il. 4.84 and Od. 4.237, texts that, as Murray puts it, Plato uses “to produce an appropriate quotation for this context.”117 At Il. 4.84 (= Il. 19.224) Zeus is

116

Lohse 1964, 17; P. Murray [1996] 2007, 144. P. Murray [1996] 2007, 144. Howes (1895, 196) incorrectly takes Plato’s line as a reference only to Il. 4.84. Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) takes it as a lost line from Homer or from some 117

223 referred to both as a “dispenser” (ταμίης) and “the cause” (τέτυκται) of war specifically not, as in Plato, of good and evil in general. The Homeric passage does, however, indicate that Zeus could also be the cause of friendship rather than enmity between the Trojans and Greeks, thus indicating, in a more specific sense, Zeus’ ability to cause good or evil.118 Homer Il. 4.82-84 [Note: Il. 4.84 = Il. 19.224119] ἦ ῥ’ αὖτις πόλεμός τε κακὸς καὶ φύλοπις αἰνὴ ἔσσεται, ἢ φιλότητα μετ’ ἀμφοτέροισι τίθησι [Ζεύς, ὅς τ’ ἀνθρώπων ταμίης πολέμοιο τέτυκται.] Verily shall we again have evil war and the dread din of battle, or else Zeus will set friendship amid the hosts, [(Zeus), who is the dispenser for mankind, and the cause of battle.] Below in Od. 4.237, Zeus is characterized as a god able to do “all things” (ἅπαντα) and specifically as a giver of “both good and evil” (ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε). Zeus is not called a “dispenser” here, however, and the verb διδοῖ, “he gives,” is used instead of Plato’s τέτυκται, “he is the cause of.” Homer Od. 4.235-239 “Ἀτρεΐδη Μενέλαε διοτρεφὲς ἠδὲ καὶ οἵδε ἀνδρῶν ἐσθλῶν παῖδες· ἀτὰρ θεὸς ἄλλοτε ἄλλῳ [Ζεὺς ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε διδοῖ]· δύναται γὰρ ἅπαντα· ἦ τοι νῦν δαίνυσθε καθήμενοι ἐν μεγάροισι καὶ μύθοις τέρπεσθε·

235

[Helen:] “Menelaus, son of Atreus, and you my good friends, sons of honorable men (which is as god wills, for [Zeus gives both of good and evil,] and can do what he chooses), feast here as you will, and listen while I tell you a tale in season.

other poet entirely – the view adopted by Schneider (1830-3, ad loc.) in reference to the phrase οὔτ’ ἄλλου ποιητοῦ (c9-d1) in Plato’s text. 118 See Lohse (1964, 18) who makes this point similarly. 119 Il. 19.221-4: “Quickly have men surfeit of battle, wherein the bronze strews most straw upon the ground, albeit the harvest is scantiest, whenso he [i.e. Zeus] inclines his balance, [he, who is the dispenser of battle for mankind.]

224 Given the fact that the language Plato uses beginning with the word ταμίας alludes to several different lines in Homer, Slings’ edition of the Republic – as was the case in the previous citation – is indented improperly once again. As οὐδ’ ὡς (e1) is meant to introduce the citation, ταμίας, not ἀγαθῶν ought to begin a new line. Thus we should read: οὐδ’ ὡς· ταμίας ἡμῖν Ζεὺς ἀγαθῶν τε κακῶν τε τέτυκται. rather than Slings’ version: οὐδ’ ὡς ταμίας ἡμῖν Ζεὺς-ἀγαθῶν τε κακῶν τε τέτυκται. Cross-References As noted above in the Interpretive Context, the idea of Zeus as the dispenser of good and evil is used so frequently, it may be considered a poetic commonplace. Thus, while the line in question in Plato is most likely a conflation of Il. 4.84 and Od. 4.237, there are other similar lines in Greek poetry worth noting. The fact that the thought and diction of the line are so frequently employed in Greek literature corresponds well with the way in which Plato introduces this series of quotations in his text at Rep. 2.379c9-d1: “Then we mustn’t accept either from Homer or from another poet (οὔτ’ ἄλλου ποιητοῦ, c8-d1) that mistake that they make about the gods when they foolishly [say god is the cause of evil].” It is quite compelling that Pindar, as in the citation above, may yet again be the secondary target of Plato’s criticism. At Isthmian 5.52-53, he expresses a sentiment nearly identical to that of Homer, albeit using different vocabulary: “Zeus

225 dispenses both good and bad, Zeus the master of all” (Ζεὺς τά τε καὶ τὰ νέμει, / Ζεὺς ὁ πάντων κύριος).120 Hesiod, in Works and Days 665-669, expands control of good and evil in life to include Poseidon as well, albeit in the context of sailing: ... οὔτε κε νῆα καυάξαις οὔτ᾽ ἄνδρας ἀποφθείσειε θάλασσα, εἰ δὴ μὴ πρόφρων γε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων ἢ Ζεὺς ἀθανάτων βασιλεὺς ἐθέλῃσιν ὀλέσσαι· ἐν τοῖς γὰρ τέλος ἐστὶν ὁμῶς ἀγαθῶν τε κακῶν τε. you will not wreck your ship, nor will the sea destroy the sailors, unless Poseidon the Earth-Shaker be set upon it, or Zeus, the king of the deathless gods, wish to slay them; for the issues of good and evil alike are with them. While Od. 4.492 is unrelated to the idea of gods doling out good and evil, it is perhaps the closest line in Greek poetry to Plato’s conflated citation: “Aye, and he [i.e. Proteus] will tell you, one fostered of Zeus, if so you desire, what evil and what good has been wrought in your halls.” (καὶ δέ κέ τοι εἴπῃσι, διοτρεφές, αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέλῃσθα, / ὅττι τοι ἐν μεγάροισι κακόν τ᾽ ἀγαθόν τε τέτυκται, 492-493). This line, of course, mentions nothing about Zeus, but could have stood as yet another model for Plato’s phrasing for his citation. Yet another example of “Zeus, the dispenser”121 appears in Euripides’ Medea 1415: “Zeus on Olympus is the dispenser of many things” (πολλῶν ταμίας Ζεὺς ἐν Ὀλύμπῳ). Indeed, the idea is such a commonplace – namely, that Zeus was a dispenser of all things – that appropriately enough, Plato’s great rival and contemporary, Isocrates, makes this very point at 120

Labarbe (1949, 283) takes οὔτ’ ἄλλου ποιητοῦ quite literally, concluding that as Plato’s line here cannot be found in Homer, it is from another poet whose work does not survive. 121 It is worth at least considering the possibility that there is some comic potential in “Zeus the dispenser” given that the metaphor is not particularly elevated; A dispenser (ταμίης) in Homeric epic is typically a server of food and drink.

226 11.13, taken by scholars to be an allusion to Il. 4.84: “for while Zeus is the dispenser [ὁ Ζεὺς ταμίας ἐστίν] of rains and droughts to the rest of mankind, of both of these each Egyptian has made himself master on his own account.” Texts To apply Lohse’s conflation theory, then, combining both Il. 4.84 and Od. 4.237, we get something quite close to Plato’s text: Homer Il. 4.84 [Ζεύς, ὅς τ’ ἀνθρώπων ταμίης πολέμοιο τέτυκται.] Homer Od. 4.237 [Ζεὺς ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε διδοῖ] Conflated Homeric Text [Ζεύς ἀνθρώπων ταμίης ἀγαθόν τε κακόν τε τέτυκται.] Plato Rep. 2.379e1-2 [ταμίας ἡμῖν Ζεὺς ἀγαθῶν τε κακῶν τε τέτυκται.] e1 ἡμῖν Ζεὺς] ἡμῖν Ζεὺς A D M : Ζεὺς F : Ζεὺς ἡμῖν Eusebius Textual Differences 1) Word order It is worth noting that perhaps the oddest feature of Plato’s conflated text here is the fact that should he have chosen to mimic the word order of Homer’s original more closely, he would have been left with a line of perfect hexameter: - -| - u u|- u u | - u u| - u u| - x Ζεὺς ἡ|μῖν ταμί|ας ἀγα|θῶν τε κα|κῶν τε τέ|τυκται

227

What seems clear in all of this, then, is that at this point in the text, Plato is not terribly interested either in verbatim quotation or poetic style. 2) ἡμῖν (e1) : ἀνθρώπων (Il. 4.84) [Invention] It is not surprising, of course, that Plato’s text differs at points from Homer in that he has produced a conflated text, deriving from or alluding to many different sources. Here Plato’s ἡμῖν is basically synonymous with Homer’s ἀνθρώπων. 3) ταμίας (e1) : ταμίης (Il. 4.84) [Atticism] Given the fact that Plato is not directly quoting Homer, he merely substitutes the Attic spelling ταμίας for Homer’s ταμίης. 4) ἀγαθῶν ... κακῶν (e2) : ἀγαθόν ... κακόν (Od. 4.237) [Invention] Here Homer and Plato disagree in terms of case because in Plato “good and evil” are the genitive object of τεύχω but in Homer they are the accusative object of δίδωμι. The fact that Plato pluralizes “good and evil” is of little relevance. Such an expression makes Plato’s statement somewhat more specific, “good things and evils things” rather than Homer’s broad phrasing “good and evil.” Interpretation

228 In the end, Plato has created a verse, distinctly Homeric, which in fact is an invention of his own, a conflation of two Homeric verses that also captures a commonplace in the poetic tradition. Lohse summarizes Plato’s method and aims here succinctly:122 Mit dieser Änderung haben wir ein Beispiel dafür, daß Platon nicht nur Eingriffe in den Text der zitierten Homerverse vornahm, um sie syntaktisch einzuordnen, seinem Gedankengang anzupassen oder auf das Wesentliche zu verkürzen, sondern auch durch ästhetische Gesichtspunkte veranlaßt werden konnte, den homerischen Wortlaut aufzugeben und durch eine neue Fassung zu ersetzen.

Allusion 14: Plato Rep. 2.379e3-5 (Cf. Allusion 32 & Quotation 37) : Homer Il. 4.64-126 Interpretive Context Socrates’ next target of attack is a specific episode from the Iliad in which Zeus and Athene cause the Trojan warrior Pandarus to break the “cease fire” agreement between the Greek and Trojan armies. The “cease fire” or truce in question is established in Book 3 of the Iliad, the specific terms of which are stipulated in lines 276-291. The terms state that whoever wins in singlecombat between Menelaus and Paris shall take Helen as his bride and thus bring an end to hostilities between Greeks and Trojans. The irony in the scene in Homer is that while Zeus is naturally the god asked to witness the swearing of oaths, the poet himself admits that in reality Zeus “will bring none of this to pass” (Il. 3.302). Indeed, the gods, despite the most just intentions of mortals, foil the Greeks’ and Trojans’ plan. At the moment that Menelaus will deal Paris a death blow, Aphrodite sweeps in to protect Paris, carrying him off to his “perfumed 122

Lohse 1964, 18.

229 bedchambers” (Il. 3.382). And while Agamemnon pronounces Menelaus victor due to the disappearance of Paris, the gods are too personally involved in the conflict, too interested in the fate of their favorites – individual mortals and whole cities alike – to allow the peace of the mortals to stand. Thus, Helen takes a leading role in renewing hostilities between the Greeks and Trojans. She urges Zeus, who himself seems to be in favor of peace, 123 to send Athene down to the Trojan camp to break the truce between the armies. Thus, Athene in the likeness of the mortal Laodocus – surely Plato would have doubly criticized the element of divine transformation and deception here – convinces Pandarus to launch an arrow against Menelaus,124 thus breaking the truce. Original Context Plato Rep. 2.379e3-5 τὴν δὲ τῶν ὅρκων καὶ σπονδῶν σύγχυσιν, ἣν ὁ Πάνδαρος συνέχεεν, ἐάν τις φῇ δι’ Ἀθηνᾶς τε καὶ Διὸς γεγονέναι, οὐκ ἐπαινεσόμεθα ... 5 [Socrates:] “And as to the breaking of the promised truce by Pandarus, if anyone tells us that it was brought about by Athena and Zeus, we will not praise him.” Homer Il. 4.64-67, 81-84, 86-90, 92-94, 104 σὺ δὲ θᾶσσον Ἀθηναίη ἐπιτεῖλαι ἐλθεῖν ἐς Τρώων καὶ Ἀχαιῶν φύλοπιν αἰνήν, πειρᾶν δ’ ὥς κε Τρῶες ὑπερκύδαντας Ἀχαιοὺς ἄρξωσι πρότεροι ὑπὲρ ὅρκια δηλήσασθαι. ... ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον· ἦ ῥ᾽ αὖτις πόλεμός τε κακὸς καὶ φύλοπις αἰνὴ ἔσσεται, ἢ φιλότητα μετ᾽ ἀμφοτέροισι τίθησι Ζεύς, ὅς τ᾽ ἀνθρώπων ταμίης πολέμοιο τέτυκται. ... 123

65

Il. 4.14-9. The wounding of Menelaus and the medical treatment he receives forms the substance of Allusion 32 and Quotation 37 respectively. 124

230 ἣ δ’ ἀνδρὶ ἰκέλη Τρώων κατεδύσεθ’ ὅμιλον Λαοδόκῳ Ἀντηνορίδῃ κρατερῷ αἰχμητῇ, Πάνδαρον ἀντίθεον διζημένη εἴ που ἐφεύροι. εὗρε Λυκάονος υἱὸν ... ἀμύμονα τε κρατερόν τε ἑσταότ’ … … ἀγχοῦ δ’ ἱσταμένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα· ἦ ῥα νύ μοί τι πίθοιο Λυκάονος υἱὲ δαί̈φρον. τλαίης κεν Μενελάῳ ἐπιπροέμεν ταχὺν ἰόν, ... ὣς φάτ’ Ἀθηναίη, τῷ δὲ φρένας ἄφρονι πεῖθεν·

90 92

104

[Hera addressing Zeus:] And straightway bid Athene to go her way into the dread din of battle of Trojans and Achaeans, and contrive how that the Trojans may be first in defiance of their oaths to work evil upon the Achaeans that exult in their triumph ... and thus would a man say with a glance at his neighbor [observing the arrival of Athene]:“Verily shall we again have evil war and the dread din of battle, or else friendship is set amid the hosts by Zeus, who is for men the dispenser of battle.”125 ... But Athene entered the throng of the Trojans in the guise of a man, even of Laodocus, son of Antenor, a valiant spearman, in quest of god-like Pandarus, if haply she might find him. And she found Lycaon’s son, peerless and stalwart ... Then she drew near, and spoke to him winged words: Will you now hearken to me, wise-hearted son of Lycaon? Then would you dare to let fly a swift arrow upon Menelaus ... So spoke Athene, and persuaded his heart in his folly ... Interpretation While Plato’s censorship of the Pandarus episode seems innocuous enough, it has massive ramifications. By eliminating this one detail of the plot of the Iliad, Plato, in effect, eliminates the majority of the epic itself. Without Pandarus’ violation – something only caused by unjust, divine intervention – a work of twenty-four books is winnowed down to three (and needless to say would possess a feeble and uninteresting dramatic arc). If we take Plato’s censorship of the Homeric epics in the aggregate, we are not left with excised or majorly edited works. Rather, the entire content of the epics is essentially obliterated.

125

Surely the use of “dispenser” (ταμίης, 84) here would have served as a natural link between the citation above on Zeus as the dispenser of good and evil and this one.

231

Allusion 15: Plato Rep. 10.620b3 : Homer Od. 11.540-564 (Cf. Allusions 3 & 19) (Cf. The Little Iliad; Aeschylus The Judgment of Arms; Pindar Nemean 7.20-30, 8.21-34; Sophocles Ajax; Euripides Helen 94-102) Interpretive Context The next allusion we shall discuss occurs in the midst of the Myth of Er (cf. Allusion 2 & 3) at Republic 10.614a5-621d3 in which Socrates imagines both the rewards and punishments that await man in the afterlife. As Socrates reports, the twentieth soul to choose its new life is that of Ajax. He chooses the life of a lion, disillusioned with humanity on account of his loss to Odysseus in the judgment for the arms of Achilles. Like many mythological allusions in Plato’s Republic, Socrates’ mention of the judgment of Achilles’ arms has many possible referents. It is the unifying theme of Sophocles’ Ajax and figures prominently in many other sources.126 The earliest literary source of the story, however, is in Homer, namely Book 11 of the Odyssey, as part of Odysseus’ katabasis. Here Odysseus encounters Ajax and attempts to placate the proud man, blaming the decision of the arms – like his son Telemachus –127 on the wickedness of gods: Yet no other is to blame but Zeus, who bore terrible hatred against the host of Danaan spearmen, and brought on you your doom. Nay, come here, prince, that you may hear my word and my speech; and subdue your wrath and proud spirit.

126

See, e.g., The Little Iliad, Aeschylus’ lost trilogy on Ajax, including his Judgment of Arms, Pindar (Nem. 7.20-30; 8.21-34), and Euripides (Helen 94-102). On literary and artistic sources on Ajax before Sophocles, see Jebb (1896, ix-xxii), Stanford (1963, xii-xxiv), Kamerbeek (1963, 1-8), and Garvie (1998, 3-5). 127 See Quotation 1.

232 Original Context Plato Rep. 620b1-3 εἰκοστὴν δὲ λαχοῦσαν ψυχὴν ἑλέσθαι λέοντος βίον· εἶναι b δὲ τὴν Αἴαντος τοῦ Τελαμωνίου, φεύγουσαν ἄνθρωπον γενέσθαι, μεμνημένην τῆς τῶν ὅπλων κρίσεως. The soul that drew the twentieth lot chose the life of a lion; it was the soul of Ajax, the son of Telamon, which, because it remembered the adjudication of the arms of Achilles, was unwilling to become a man. Homer Od. 11.540-564 “αἱ δ᾽ ἄλλαι ψυχαὶ νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων ἕστασαν ἀχνύμεναι, εἴροντο δὲ κήδε᾽ ἑκάστη. οἴη δ᾽ Αἴαντος ψυχὴ Τελαμωνιάδαο νόσφιν ἀφεστήκει, κεχολωμένη εἵνεκα νίκης, τήν μιν ἐγὼ νίκησα δικαζόμενος παρὰ νηυσὶ τεύχεσιν ἀμφ᾽ Ἀχιλῆος· ἔθηκε δὲ πότνια μήτηρ. παῖδες δὲ Τρώων δίκασαν καὶ Παλλὰς Ἀθήνη. ὡς δὴ μὴ ὄφελον νικᾶν τοιῷδ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἀέθλῳ· τοίην γὰρ κεφαλὴν ἕνεκ᾽ αὐτῶν γαῖα κατέσχεν, Αἴανθ᾽, ὃς πέρι μὲν εἶδος, πέρι δ᾽ ἔργα τέτυκτο τῶν ἄλλων Δαναῶν μετ᾽ ἀμύμονα Πηλεΐωνα. τὸν μὲν ἐγὼν ἐπέεσσι προσηύδων μειλιχίοισιν· “Αἶαν, παῖ Τελαμῶνος ἀμύμονος, οὐκ ἄρ᾽ ἔμελλες οὐδὲ θανὼν λήσεσθαι ἐμοὶ χόλου εἵνεκα τευχέων οὐλομένων; τὰ δὲ πῆμα θεοὶ θέσαν Ἀργείοισι, τοῖος γάρ σφιν πύργος ἀπώλεο· σεῖο δ᾽ Ἀχαιοὶ ἶσον Ἀχιλλῆος κεφαλῇ Πηληϊάδαο ἀχνύμεθα φθιμένοιο διαμπερές· οὐδέ τις ἄλλος αἴτιος, ἀλλὰ Ζεὺς Δαναῶν στρατὸν αἰχμητάων ἐκπάγλως ἤχθηρε, τεῒν δ᾽ ἐπὶ μοῖραν ἔθηκεν. ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε δεῦρο, ἄναξ, ἵν᾽ ἔπος καὶ μῦθον ἀκούσῃς ἡμέτερον· δάμασον δὲ μένος καὶ ἀγήνορα θυμόν.’ “ὣς ἐφάμην, ὁ δέ μ᾽ οὐδὲν ἀμείβετο, βῆ δὲ μετ᾽ ἄλλας ψυχὰς εἰς Ἔρεβος νεκύων κατατεθνηώτων.

540

545

550

555

560

[Odysseus to the Phaeacians:] “Alone of them all the spirit of Ajax, son of Telamon, stood apart, still full of wrath for the victory that I had won over him in the contest by the ships for the arms of Achilles, whose honored mother had set them for a prize; and the judges were the sons of the Trojans and Pallas Athena. I would that I had never won in the contest for such a prize, over so noble a head did the earth close because of those arms, even over Ajax, who in comeliness and in deeds of war was above all the other Achaeans, next to the peerless son of Peleus. To him I spoke with soothing words: ‘Ajax, son of peerless Telamon, will you then not even in death to

233 forget your wrath against me because of those accursed arms? Surely the gods set them to be a bane to the Argives: such a tower of strength was lost to them in you; and for you in death we Achaeans sorrow unceasingly, even as for the life of Achilles, son of Peleus. Yet no other is to blame but Zeus, who bore terrible hatred against the host of Danaan spearmen, and brought on you your doom. Nay, come here, prince, that you may hear my word and my speech; and subdue your wrath and proud spirit.’ So I spoke, but he answered me not a word, but went his way to Erebus to join the other spirits of those dead and gone ...” Interpretation While Homer blames the wretchedness of Ajax’s fate on Zeus, it is clear that Plato would tell the story differently. First, given the fact that gods cannot be a cause of evil according to Plato, the gods would not have conspired to bring about Ajax’s madness and suicide; rather, Plato would choose to explain Ajax’s fall on the imbalance of his soul. Indeed, Plato does as much in the way in which he depicts Ajax’s reincarnation. As a lion, Ajax is not only (willingly) stripped of his humanity, but he is also transformed into an animal who epitomizes honor.128 Taking the Timaeus as a guide, we can gain some insight into the hierarchy Plato develops elsewhere – in muthos form – regarding animal souls: Land animals in the wild, moreover, came from men who had no tincture of philosophy ... [rather than the head they] followed the lead of the parts of the soul that reside in the chest ... this is the reason animals of this kind have four or more feet. The god placed a greater number of supports under the more mindless beings, so that they might be drawn more closely to the ground.129 Finally, in the Myth of Er, Plato, in his own way, dramatizes the judgment between Odysseus and Ajax. Ajax, the honor lover, is reincarnated into the beast he already was in a figurative sense in his first life. Odysseus, however, is judged and judges far better. Through his suffering 128

Plato follows Homer on this very comparison. Coompare Il. 17,133 ff. comparing Ajax to a lion (cf. also Il. 13.197 ff.; 11.543 ff.) to Rep. 588c-589b, 590a-b where the lion is used as a symbol to represent the spirited part of the soul. 129 Tim. 91e1-92a7.

234 in life, as Plato puts it, he is at last relieved of his love of honor. Subsequently he makes the wisest decision of all the would-be reincarnated souls, deciding to take “the life of a private individual who [does] his own work” (Rep. 10.620c6-7) – the model, just citizen of Plato’s ideal republic. Unlike the other souls, he chooses his fate carefully. He avoids changing his sex or becoming a beast.130 For the honor-lovers Ajax and Achilles, however, there is only disappointment and madness, in short, the dissolution of the rightful ruling element of the soul: reason. In the chapter to follow, we shall investigate the nature of Plato’s assessment of the prime representative of the honor-loving, Homeric hero: Achilles.

130

See Segal (1978, 333), who points out that Odysseus’ avoidance of bestiality here is reminiscent of Odysseus’ resistance of Circe in the Odyssey. Segal summarizes this series of metamorphoses in Er as follows: “This passage is a summation, in mythic terms, of the struggle throughout the Republic between human and savage, civilized and bestial.”

III: CRITICISM OF POETIC LOGOS (ON HEROES) δεῖ δὲ τὰς μὲν γνωρίμους ἀναμιμνήσκειν· διὸ οἱ πολλοὶ οὐδὲν δέονται διηγήσεως, οἷον εἰ θέλεις Ἀχιλλέα ἐπαινεῖν （ἴσασι γὰρ πάντες τὰς πράξεις）. (Aristotle Rhetoric 3.16.3) One need only recall well-known deeds. Because of this, most people have no need of narrative, if, say, you wish to praise Achilles, for everybody is familiar with his deeds.

1. Bravery After determining the sorts of stories the youth should hear regarding the gods, Socrates concludes that with this supervision of stories in place the youth will be more likely “to honor the gods and their parents1 and not take their friendship with one another lightly” (Rep. 3.386a24). At this point in the Republic, Socrates decides to cast his net wider. In this chapter, we shall consider the rest of Socrates’ criticism of poetic logos, namely the poets’ “false” depiction of heroes (especially Achilles). The chapter shall be organized around the cardinal virtues on which, according to the argument of the Republic, the foundation of a good city and a good man depend: bravery (ἀνδρεία), moderation (σωφροσύνη), piety (εὐσέβεια), and justice (δικαιοσύνη). The virtue of moderation will be treated in terms of both emotional and appetitive moderation. Justice will not be treated explicitly as it is the overriding theme of the dialogue as a whole and a virtue that is determined by a harmony of other elements.

1

The importance of honoring one’s parents is made clear earlier in the Republic at 2.377e7378a2 where Socrates calls Cronus’ revenge on his father and Zeus’ mistreatment of him “the greatest lie on the highest subject.” On this point, see also Laws 10.886c ff. 235

236 As Socrates argues, the essential feature of courage is not to have any fear of death: “Can anyone ever become courageous if he’s possessed by [a] fear [of death]?” (Rep. 3.386a6-7).2 Socrates then adds to this initial premise that a fear of death is inevitable if someone believes “in a Hades full of terrors” (Rep. 3.386b4). The logical conclusion for Socrates, then, is a supervision of the stories that the poets currently tell about Hades, as the stories told now are “neither true [ἀληθῆ, b10] nor beneficial [ὠφέλιμα, c1]” (Rep. 3.386b10-c1). The linking here of the “true” and “beneficial” is quite important for Plato’s concept of the proper form of poetic paideia. A false story is perfectly acceptable as long as it is both about something impossible to know and as long as it performs a “useful” (χρήσιμος) or “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) function.

Proverbial Citation 1: Plato Rep. 1.328e6 : Homer Il. 22.60; 24.487; Od. 15.246; 348; 23.212 (Cf. Hesiod Works and Days 331; Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite 5.106; Herodotus Histories 3.14.10; Palatine Anthology 14.127.43) Interpretive Context On Proverbial Quotations

2

Later, in Republic 4.430c, Socrates will focus on another aspect of courage, which he refers to as “civic courage,” exercised by the guardian class in their preservation of the rule of law among the citizenry. This act of preservation is analogous to the service that the spirited element performs in the human soul, upholding and supporting the judgment of reason. For more on “civic courage” and courage in Plato in general, see Rabieh (2006) with further bibliography there. 3 While this cross-reference is too late to serve as a potential referent for Plato’s citation, it provides useful information all the same for how the meaning of the phrase “the threshold of old age” was understood in later antiquity.

237 Republic 1.328e6 features the famous Homeric tagline “on the threshold of old age” (ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ). This phrase occurs frequently in Homer and indeed repeatedly throughout Greek literature. Given the phrase’s nearly proverbial status, it is difficult to say if Plato had a specific Homeric referent in mind or perhaps even Homer for that matter. The non-specific nature of the citation is revealed in that the phrase is attributed to “the poets” (οἱ ποιηταί, e6) in Plato rather than any one specific poet. I am inclined to agree with Halliwell, then, that this citation fits in the category of those poetic turns of phrases which do not require the reader to consider their precise origin or context. I disagree with Halliwell, however, in viewing this citation merely as an example of a speaker in Plato displaying his “conversational finesse.”4 While Tarrant, whom Halliwell follows in this respect, is generally correct to argue that some poetic citations in Plato are integral, others mere embellishment, we must consider the fact that while the phrase “the threshold of old age” is a well-worn tagline, and thus nearly context-less in origin, in Plato it performs an essential literary function. The phrase further develops the theme of katabasis, introduced at the beginning of the Republic – to be discussed in detail below under Interpretation – and does so by appropriating the language of poetry which, beginning here with the pseudo-philosopher Cephalus and his son Polemarchus, will gradually give way in the dialogue to philosophy and the philosophic use of poetry. It is worth noting that a particular problem with the phrase “the threshold of old age” is its ambiguity, an ambiguity well-noted in scholarship.5 Does the phrase refer to the period of time comprising old age itself, or does it refer only to reaching old age? Adam’s resolution of

4

Halliwell 2000, 96. In this respect Halliwell notes his own dependence on the views of both Tarrant (1951, 59 n. 5) and Vicaire (1960, 81-2). 5 Kakridis 1971, 512-3; Benardete 1989, 12; Falkner 1989, 33.

238 this ambiguity seems best.6 He takes γήραος (“old age”) as a descriptive genitive, with “the threshold of old age” itself taken as metonymy for the period of time which constitutes the stage of life known as old age, a lengthy threshold that serves as a passageway between “the House of Life” and the “House of Hades.” In the Republic, the phrase “on the threshold of old age” occurs in Book 1. It is the first poetic citation in the entire work. Socrates uses the phrase to describe the aged Cephalus before he asks him whether he finds old age to be “difficult” (χαλεπὸν, Rep. 1.328e7). Cephalus’ attitude turns out to be atypical. In contrast to the Greek poetic tradition and his own age mates,7 Cephalus does not bewail the fact that he can no longer enjoy sensual pleasures like “sex, drinking parties, and feasts” (Rep. 1.329a4-5). Instead, like Sophocles, whom he misquotes,8 Cephalus claims to enjoy the freedom old age brings from desire,9 the opportunity to be a master of himself. In Homer, the phrase first appears in the Iliad. It appears twice, in episodes that mirror one another dramatically and feature the aged Priam. In Iliad 22, Priam takes the role of suppliant with his own son, begging Hector to stay within the city walls both to save himself and to stave off a cruel fate for his father, who stands “at the threshold of old age.” In Iliad 24, Priam visits Achilles as a suppliant, seeking, as before, to bring his son within the walls of Troy. He asks Achilles to pity him, wretched as he is, “on the threshold of old age.” 6

See Adam ([1902] 2009, ad loc.) for further grammatical analysis and citations elsewhere in classical literature to support his reading. The use of the phrase below from the Palatine Anthology, though a late source, seems to be strong support for Adam’s reading. Here, “the threshold of old age” is contrasted with other periods of life, namely boyhood, adolescence, and adult life. 7 On the Greek poets’ attitudes in general towards old age, see Miller (1955, 177-82) and Minois (1989, esp. 47). 8 Benardete 1989, 12-3. 9 On the “fierce tensions” of desire, see Phaedo 86c, 94c, Phileb. 47a, and Laws 1.644e, 1.645b.

239 In the Odyssey, the phrase is used somewhat differently. The first occurrence of the phrase in Book 15 is a slight variant, used by Theoclymenus as he traces his genealogy for Telemachus, telling of one Amphiareus, who died before he came “to the threshold of old age.” Later in the same book, Odysseus asks the swineherd Eumaeus about his father Laertes, whom he had left twenty years ago when Laertes was already “on the threshold of old age.” The final occurrence of the phrase is identical to its use in Book 15. Here in Book 23, Penelope, now reunited with Odysseus, laments how the gods have begrudged them to have spent their youth together and thereafter to have reached “the threshold of old age” as a couple. As a testament to how well-known the phrase “the threshold of old age” was, we find later imitations in Hesiod, the Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite 5, Herodotus, and even the Palatine Anthology. In Hesiod, the poet mentions the phrase as part of a long aside to Perses on the nature of justice. The speaker’s discussion in Hesiod, moreover, centers on the relationship between wealth and justice – an important connection discussed by Socrates and Cephalus in the Republic. In this way, identifying Hesiod’s use of the phrase as the primary referent of Plato’s citation is quite attractive.10 We cannot assert this with any real confidence, however, as Plato seems to set up the aged Cephalus as a sort of foil to the Homer’s Priam as well. Thus, in the end, it is better to argue that, as was the case with Quotation 1, Plato is using a poetic phrase that is so common that any attempt to cite the “real” referent will be subject to some uncertainty.11

10

Oddly enough, the majority of modern editions of the Republic cite only Homer – and at that not the full gamut of passages which contain the phrase “threshold of old age” – with no mention of Hesiod, let alone The Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite or Herodotus. 11 See Falkner (1989, 33), who goes so far as to hypothesize that the phrase predates Homeric poetry altogether: “the range of the formulas’ use and the various contexts in which they appear suggest that they and the metaphor they employ were not original with Homer but were a ready resource in the formulary repertoire of heroic poetry.”

240 In the Hymn to Aphrodite, as Anchises falls in love with the goddess Aphrodite, he prays that he may come “to the threshold of old age, a man prosperous among the people” (Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite 5.106). In Herodotus 3.14.10, the Egyptian king Psammenitus, conquered by Cambyses, weeps at the sight of his friend, impoverished and destitute “at the threshold of old age.” Finally, in the Palatine Anthology, the phrase occurs in the context of one of the mathematical riddles from Book 14, likely penned or at least collected by the grammarian Metrodorus, who lived during the reign of Constantine.12 Original Context Plato Rep. 1.328e4-7 καὶ δὴ καὶ σοῦ ἡδέως ἂν πυθοίμην ὅτι σοι φαίνεται τοῦτο, ἐπειδὴ ἐνταῦθα ἤδη εἶ τῆς ἡλικίας ὃ δὴ [“ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ”] φασιν εἶναι οἱ ποιηταί, πότερον χαλεπὸν τοῦ βίου, ἢ πῶς σὺ αὐτὸ ἐξαγγέλλεις.

5

[Socrates to Cephalus:] “And I’d gladly find out from you what you think about this, as you have reached the point in life the poets call [‘on the threshold of old age.’] Is it a difficult [χαλεπὸν, e7] time? What is your report about it?” Homer Il. 22.59-62 πρὸς δ’ ἐμὲ τὸν δύστηνον ἔτι φρονέοντ’ ἐλέησον δύσμορον, ὅν ῥα πατὴρ Κρονίδης [ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ] αἴσῃ ἐν ἀργαλέῃ φθίσει κακὰ πόλλ’ ἐπιδόντα υἷάς τ’ ὀλλυμένους ἑλκηθείσας τε θύγατρας,

60

[Priam to Hector:] “Furthermore, have compassion on me who yet can feel – on wretched me whom the father, son of Cronos, will slay by a grievous fate [on the threshold of old age,] when I have beheld ills full many, my sons perishing and my daughters hauled away ...” Homer Il. 24.485-487 τὸν καὶ λισσόμενος Πρίαμος πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε· μνῆσαι πατρὸς σοῖο θεοῖς ἐπιείκελ’ Ἀχιλλεῦ, τηλίκου ὥς περ ἐγών, ὀλοῷ [ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ]· 12

Paton [1918] 2005, 25; Forster 1945, 45.

485

241 But Priam made entreaty, and spoke to him, saying: “Remember your father, O Achilles like to the gods, whose years are even as mine, [on the threshold of old age,] a grievous threshold at that.” Homer Od. 15.246-247 ... οὐδ᾽ ἵκετο [γήραος οὐδόν,] ἀλλ᾽ ὄλετ᾽ ἐν Θήβῃσι γυναίων εἵνεκα δώρων. [Theoclymenus to Telemachus:] “Yet [Amphiareus] did not reach [the threshold of old age,] but died in Thebes, because of a woman’s gifts”. Homer Od. 15.346-350 νῦν δ᾽ ἐπεὶ ἰσχανάᾳς μεῖναι τέ με κεῖνον ἄνωγας, εἴπ᾽ ἄγε μοι περὶ μητρὸς Ὀδυσσῆος θείοιο πατρός θ᾽, ὃν κατέλειπεν ἰὼν [ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ,] ἤ που ἔτι ζώουσιν ὑπ᾽ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο, ἦ ἤδη τεθνᾶσι καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισι. 350 [Odysseus-beggar to Eumaeus:] “But now, since you keep me here and bid me await your master, come, tell me of the mother of godlike Odysseus, and of the father, whom, when he went forth, he left behind [on the threshold of old age.] Are they haply still living beneath the rays of the sun? or are they now dead and in the house of Hades?” Homer Od. 23.209-212 “μή μοι, Ὀδυσσεῦ, σκύζευ, ἐπεὶ τά περ ἄλλα μάλιστα ἀνθρώπων πέπνυσο· θεοὶ δ᾽ ὤπαζον ὀϊζύν, οἳ νῶϊν ἀγάσαντο παρ᾽ ἀλλήλοισι μένοντε ἥβης ταρπῆναι καὶ [γήραος οὐδὸν] ἱκέσθαι.

210

[Penelope:] “Be not vexed with me, Odysseus, for in all else you were ever the wisest of men. It is the gods that gave us sorrow, the gods who begrudged that we two should remain with each other and enjoy our youth, and come to [the threshold of old age.]” Cross-References Hesiod Works 320-334 χρήματα δ᾽ οὐχ ἁρπακτά, θεόσδοτα πολλὸν ἀμείνω. εἰ γάρ τις καὶ χερσὶ βίῃ μέγαν ὄλβον ἕληται, ἢ ὅ γ᾽ ἀπὸ γλώσσης ληίσσεται, οἷά τε πολλὰ γίγνεται, εὖτ᾽ ἂν δὴ κέρδος νόον ἐξαπατήσῃ

242 ἀνθρώπων, αἰδῶ δέ τ᾽ ἀναιδείη κατοπάζῃ· ῥεῖα δέ μιν μαυροῦσι θεοί, μινύθουσι δὲ οἶκον ἀνέρι τῷ, παῦρον δέ τ᾽ ἐπὶ χρόνον ὄλβος ὀπηδεῖ. ἶσον δ᾽ ὅς θ᾽ ἱκέτην ὅς τε ξεῖνον κακὸν ἔρξῃ, ὅς τε κασιγνήτοιο ἑοῦ ἀνὰ δέμνια βαίνῃ κρυπταδίης εὐνῆς ἀλόχου, παρακαίρια ῥέζων, ὅς τέ τευ ἀφραδίῃς ἀλιταίνεται ὀρφανὰ τέκνα, ὅς τε γονῆα γέροντα κακῷ [ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ] νεικείῃ χαλεποῖσι καθαπτόμενος ἐπέεσσιν· τῷ δ᾽ ἦ τοι Ζεὺς αὐτὸς ἀγαίεται, ἐς δὲ τελευτὴν ἔργων ἀντ᾽ ἀδίκων χαλεπὴν ἐπέθηκεν ἀμοιβήν.

325

330

Wealth should not be seized: god-given wealth is much better; for if a man takes great wealth violently and perforce, or if he steals it through his tongue, as often happens when gain deceives men’s sense and dishonor tramples down honor, the gods soon blot him out and make that man’s house low, and wealth attends him only for a little time. Alike with him who does wrong to a suppliant or a guest, or who goes up to his brother’s bed and commits unnatural sin in lying with his wife, or who infatuatedly offends against fatherless children, or who abuses his old father while [on the threshold of old age,] that evil threshold, and attacks him with harsh words, truly Zeus himself is angry, and at the last lays on him a heavy requital for his evil doing. Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite 5.102-106 σὺ δ᾽ εὔφρονα θυμὸν ἔχουσα δός με μετὰ Τρώεσσιν ἀριπρεπέ᾽ ἔμμεναι ἄνδρα, ποίει δ᾽ ἐξοπίσω θαλερὸν γόνον, αὐτὰρ ἔμ᾽ αὐτὸν δηρὸν ἐὺ ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο, ὄλβιον ἐν λαοῖς, καὶ [γήραος οὐδὸν] ἱκέσθαι.

105

[Aeneas to Aphrodite:] “And do you feel kindly towards me and grant that I may become a man very eminent among the Trojans, and give me strong offspring for the time to come. As for my own self, let me live long and happily, seeing the light of the sun, and come to [the threshold of old age,] a man prosperous among the people.” Herodotus Hist. 3.14.10 “ὦ παῖ Κύρου, τὰ μὲν οἰκήια ἦν μέζω κακὰ ἢ ὥστε ἀνακλαίειν, τὸ δὲ τοῦ ἑταίρου πένθος ἄξιον ἦν δακρύων, ὃς ἐκ πολλῶν τε καὶ εὐδαιμόνων ἐκπεσὼν ἐς πτωχηίην ἀπῖκται [ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ.]” [Psammenitus, conquered by Cambyses:] “Son of Cyrus, my private grief was too great for weeping; but the unhappiness of my companion deserves tears—a man fallen from abundance and prosperity to beggary as he came [on the threshold of old age.]”

243 Pal. Anth. 14.12713 παντὸς ὅσου βεβίωκε χρόνου παῖς μὲν τὸ τέταρτον Δημοχάρης βεβίωκε· νεηνίσκος δὲ τὸ πέμπτον· τὸ τρίτον εἰς ἄνδρας· πολιὸν δ’ ὅτ’ ἀφίκετο γῆρας ἔζησεν λοιπὰ τρισκαίδεκα [γήραος οὐδῷ.] Of the time Demochares lived, he lived a quarter as a boy, a fifth as a young man, a third as a grown man, and when he reached grey old age, he lived his remaining thirteen years [on the threshold of old age.]14 Texts Plato Rep. 1.328e6 ὃ δὴ [“ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ”] φασιν εἶναι οἱ ποιηταί ... Homer Il. 22.60 (= Il. 24.487; Od. 15.348, Hes. Works 331; Herod. Hist. 3.14.10 ... [ἐπὶ γήραος οὐδῷ] Homer Od. 15.246 (=Od. 23.212; H. H. 5.106; Pal. Anth. 14.127.4) ... [γήραος οὐδόν,] Textual Differences Plato’s text agrees perfectly with Il. 22.60 above et al.; Plato’s text disagrees slightly with Od. 15.246, Od. 23.212, and H. H. 5.106 in that οὐδός in these passages is not the dative object of ἐπὶ but rather the accusative object of the verb ἱκνέομαι. In the Palatine Anthology, οὐδός is in the dative, without a preposition. Unlike many of the poetic uses of the phrase, in Plato, any negative reference to “the threshold of old age” is suppressed. In Homer, the phrase always comes in the context of death or some sort of sorrow. In Iliad 22, for example, Priam discusses his own impending death “on the threshold of death” in the context of his own “grievous fate” (αἴσῃ ἐν ἀργαλέῃ, 61) and the 13 14

The text is that of Paton ([1918] 2005). The translation is my own. The answer to the riddle: Demochrares lived for 60 years in all.

244 “many evils” (κακὰ πόλλ’, 61) he has seen and is yet to see. At Iliad 24, Priam adds an adjective to the well-known phrase, describing the threshold as “grievous” (ὀλοῷ, 487). At Odyssey 15.246, 15.348, and 23.212, the phrase is used to describe the death of Amphiareus, the prospect of Laertes’ death, and the sad fate of Odysseus and Penelope respectively who have wasted their youth being separated from one another. Interpretation Many scholars read the Republic as a philosophic version of the hero’s katabasis. They begin such an interpretation fittingly with the first word of the Republic, κατέβην (Rep. 1.327a1), used to describe Socrates “going down” to the Piraeus to attend a festival of the Thracian Underworld deity Bendis.15 They also typically cite the ending of the Republic, finishing as it does with a muthos about the nature of the afterlife in the Myth of Er (cf. Rep. 10.614a5-621d3).16 In light of this interpretation, to which I subscribe as well, it is particularly fitting that Socrates should begin his conversation in the Republic with a man, Cephalus, nearing death, himself “on the threshold of old age.” While as we have pointed out above Cephalus’ attitudes about old age are atypical – he is relieved to be free from physical desire rather than nostalgic about its pursuit – his understanding of justice and the afterlife are thoroughly conventional. This is to be expected. He is a moneymaker and by his own admission has come to the joys of philosophical discussion

15

On this designation of Bendis as an Underworld deity see Jung & Kerenyi (1951, 164), Ferrari (2000, 349), and Howland (1993, 43-6). See also Voegelin ([1956] 2000), who argues that Bendis was identified with Hecate specifically and thus was a deity who – fittingly in the context of the Republic – conducted souls to the Underworld. 16 On the Republic as a journey to the Underworld, see Voegelin ([1956] 2000, 107-8), Sallis ([1975] 1996, 2-7), Clay (2000, 244), Planinc (2001, 106 ff.), and Ferrari (2007, 72 ff.). Clay (2000, 244) wisely points out that the Republic reimagines the hero’s katabasis through the Cave Allegory, whereby the philosopher descends into a figurative Hades, i.e. “into the cave of political life.”

245 late in life.17 His understanding of such matters as justice and the afterlife is informed by poetry or the sayings of famous men, and thus to this point in his life he has not philosophically formed an opinion about anything that Socrates asks him. Instead, he has simply accepted opinions from authority. Indeed, his lack of sophistication in argument is clear, as his son, Polemarchus, must almost immediately “rescue” him from Socrates’ questioning and take over (a slightly altered version) of his father’s position. While Socrates (mis)interprets Cephalus’ position that justice is nothing other than telling the truth and repaying one’s debts, Cephalus himself does not intend to define justice in this way. Asked by Socrates “what’s the greatest good you’ve received from being wealthy” (Rep. 1.330d1-3), Cephalus replies that it has relieved some of his anxiety about death. Since he has always had money, he has had little motivation to treat others unjustly by cheating them or failing to repay loans, and thus, borrowing Pindar’s “charming” (χαριέντως, Rep. 1.331a3) phrase,18 he nears death with “the sweet hope” (ἡδεῖα ἐλπὶς, Rep. 1.331a2) that he will not suffer in the Underworld because of his misdeeds in life. While Cephalus has achieved a measure of equanimity about death on account of his financial security and casual interest in poetry, Socrates will show him and the rest of his interlocutors that true bravery, true fearlessness in the face of death, can only be achieved through philosophic training, through a love of wisdom, not money. Therefore, the first step in the training of the guardians of his ideal state will be to inculcate bravery, or as it is understood in the Republic, a lack of a fear of death. Therefore, in what follows, Socrates will examine and thus revise or censor those poetic passages

17

Rep. 1.328d. On danger of poetry’s charm, see Rep. 10.601b1-4 and in secordary scholarship esp. P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 23). In Plato, the pleasure of poetry increases its danger to the listener as it causes him to abandon reason and thus to be ruled by the lesser elements of his soul. 18

246 that increase the fear of death rather than cure it. In the process, Socrates will propose a definition of justice thoroughly at odds with “Cephalus’” conventional, poetic one. Interpretive Context (Plato): Quotations 11-17 The next seven Homeric citations in Plato at the beginning of Book 3 come in very rapid succession. They all concern the virtue of courage, which, as noted above in the first section of the chapter, Socrates argues cannot exist alongside of a fear of death. And so through a supervision of stories, Socrates works to free his pupils of “the foreboding and fear” (Rep. 1.330e4) Cephalus claims men feel as they near death. Socrates recommends, then, that rather than disparaging death, poets must do the exact opposite: they must praise death. Socrates’ selection of passages here for censorship, however, is unusual. Rather than selecting those passages that depict a violent or torment-filled afterlife (the sort that would terrify a person like Cephalus), he focuses instead on those passages that depict a meaningless or insubstantial afterlife, where the soul is bereft of intelligence, a mere shadow of its former self. It is to the philosopher, I would argue, that this sort of depiction of the afterlife is truly horrifying. As Mitscherling has pointed out,19 the seven passages on the fear of death are strung together in such a way that they are disassociated from their original context, thus allowing Socrates to carry out his criticism more easily. Within the Republic itself, then, they receive a new literary context, related to one another in the way that Socrates has chosen to cut-and-paste them together. In terms of their literary function in the Republic, the quotations are linked together as follows: Quotation 11 mentions all the dead who have perished; Quotation 12 mentions the homes of these dead, which in turn sets up Quotation 13 on the lack of

19

Mitscherling 2008, 399-400.

247 understanding that these souls have in Hades; Quotation 14 alludes to Odysseus’ journey to the Underworld to consult Tiresias, the only soul in Hades who has any understanding; Quotation 15 describes the soul’s journey to Hades, which in turn sets up Quotations 16-17 that describe respectively the “screeching” soul of Patroclus and the “screeching” bat-like cries of the Suitors as they flit around en route to Hades. Mitscherling sums up the sequence of quotations as follows: In short, what Plato’s Socrates has here constructed is itself a “chain” of verses. Given that the chain of this particular passage concludes as it does, one might wonder whether Plato is not implying that when the quoted verses are taken out of their context and regarded individually— that is, when they are considered apart from the chain of verses to which they properly belong—they too become gibberish and susceptible to Socrates’ criticism.20 Finally, Lohse points out that the arrangement of the quotations themselves in the Republic follow their own chiastic symmetry, with the longest quotations framing the series and the shortest ones sitting in the middle.21

Quotation 11: Plato Rep. 3.386c5-7 : Homer Od. 11.489-491 (Cf. Quotation 18) Interpretive Context (Homer) The words Socrates quotes in this citation are those of Achilles to Odysseus during his visit to the Underworld in Book 11 of the Odyssey. While Odysseus lays generous praise on Achilles during their encounter, remarking on his unusual favor in both life and death, Achilles sharply 20 21

Mitscherling 2008, 400. Lohse 1965, 283 n. 72.

248 rejects the words of Odysseus, saying that he would exchange the misery of the Underworld for a life of destitute serfdom in the world above. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.386b8-c7 Δεῖ δή, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἡμᾶς ἐπιστατεῖν καὶ περὶ τούτων τῶν μύθων τοῖς ἐπιχειροῦσιν λέγειν, καὶ δεῖσθαι μὴ λοιδορεῖν ἁπλῶς οὕτως τὰ ἐν Ἅιδου ἀλλὰ μᾶλλον ἐπαινεῖν, ὡς οὔτε ἀληθῆ 10 ἂν λέγοντας οὔτε ὠφέλιμα τοῖς μέλλουσιν μαχίμοις ἔσεσθαι. c Δεῖ μέντοι, ἔφη. Ἐξαλείψομεν ἄρα, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ἀπὸ τοῦδε τοῦ ἔπους ἀρξάμενοι πάντα τὰ τοιαῦτα-[βουλοίμην κ’ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ 5 ἀνδρὶ παρ’ ἀκλήρῳ, ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη ἢ πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν] [Socrates:] “Then, it seems, we must supervise [ἐπιστατεῖν, b8] such stories and those who tell them, and ask them not to disparage the life in Hades in this unconditional way, but rather to praise it, since what they now say is neither true [ἀληθῆ, b10] nor beneficial [ὠφέλιμα, c1] to future warriors.” [Adeimantus:] “We must” “Then we’ll expunge all that sort of disparagement, beginning with the following lines: [‘I should choose, so I might live on earth, to serve as the hireling of another, of some portionless man whose livelihood was but small, rather than to be lord over all the dead that have perished.’”] Homer Od. 11.488-491 ‘μὴ δή μοι θάνατόν γε παραύδα, φαίδιμ’ Ὀδυσσεῦ. [βουλοίμην κ’ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ, ἀνδρὶ παρ’ ἀκλήρῳ, ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη, ἢ πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν.]

490

[Achilles:] “Nay, seek not to speak soothingly to me of death, glorious Odysseus. [I should choose, so I might live on earth, to serve as the hireling of another, of some portionless man whose livelihood was but small, rather than to be lord over all the dead that have perished.]

Texts Plato Rep. 2.386c5-7

249 [βουλοίμην κ’ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ ἀνδρὶ παρ’ ἀκλήρῳ, ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη ἢ πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν]

5

c6 μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη] μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη F D : om. A T M Homer Od. 11.489-491 [βουλοίμην κ’ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ, ἀνδρὶ παρ’ ἀκλήρῳ, ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη, ἢ πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν.]

490

Textual Differences 1) ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη (c6) [Modern Editorial Error] The text as we read it at line c6 in Slings’ edition of Plato’s Republic corresponds exactly to Homer’s verse 490, with the second half of the Hoemric original, ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη, preserved. The Platonic manuscripts A, T, and M, however, omit ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη. Accordingly, some modern editors of Plato have acted on the authority of A and thus omitted the half line from their own texts of Plato, namely Friedrich Ast (1814 not 1822), Burnet ([1905] 1958), and Émile Chambry (1949), an editorial decision that Labarbe supports.22 Others, however, namely Hermann (1852), Jowett & Campbell (1894), and Adam ([1902] 2009) have included the line. Stallbaum (1859) takes an intermediary position, placing the half-line in his text in brackets. While this passage is quoted elsewhere in Plato, at Rep. 7.516d4 (cf. Quotation 18), here, in the context of a paraphrase, the half line is omitted once again. Thus, what could have acted as evidence in favor of one reading or the other is lacking. Moreover, the context of Rep. 7.516d is vastly different. Not only is Socrates paraphrasing Homer at Rep. 7.516d, but his paraphrase also includes only the Homeric verses 508 and 509; thus, the omission of the latter 22

Labarbe 1949, 166.

250 half of 509 is not so glaring as it is above since Socrates cites no lines beyond it. Indeed, the omission of ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη is particularly striking here in Rep. 2.386c6 in that it goes against Plato’s ordinary habit of citation. As Lohse claims, there is no other place in Plato where half of a line in the middle of a quotation is dropped out without Plato substituting his own variant (typically in meter).23 In light of this fact, Lohse concludes that the half-line ought to be included in Plato’s text.24 Lohse does admit, however, as I can confirm in my own research, that it is typical of F to agree with Homer against the evidence of other manuscripts.25 Yet while F is often suspect in this respect, Lohse chooses to follow it here anyway. For my part, I would adopt a more conservative view. Following Labarbe, I would argue that Plato excluded the phrase as an unnecessary parenthesis.26 The phrase merely restates the obvious – of course one who is landless has little means to make a living – and so Plato dispenses with it, perhaps as a way of even offering implicit criticism of the redundancy of Homeric style.27 We must note that immediately following this series of quotations, Socrates shows that he is not concerned with preserving the poetic nature of these passages in general. In fact, he centers his criticism on their very poetic quality: “the more poetic [the passages] are, the less they should be heard by children or by men who are supposed to be free and to fear slavery more than death” (ἀλλ᾽ ὅσῳ ποιητικώτερα, τοσούτῳ ἧττον ἀκουστέον παισὶ καὶ ἀνδράσιν οὓς δεῖ ἐλευθέρους εἶναι, δουλείαν θανάτου μᾶλλον πεφοβημένους, Rep. 3.387b3-6). Notice that this is precisely the opposite view of Achilles himself, who at Od. 11.489 ff. would 23

Lohse 1965, 278. Lohse 1965, 279. 25 Lohse 1965, 278. On this same point, see also Labarbe (1949, 166, 176). In this study, see Quotation 8, 10, 12, 14, 37, and 41. 26 Labarbe (1949, 166) does not, however, commit to this phrase strongly. He also entertains the possibility that Plato’s memory is at fault. 27 See Chapter 4 on Homeric Lexis. 24

251 rather be a slave than to have experienced death. In conclusion, without a paleographic reason to explain why Plato’s text is missing ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη and with the evidence of superior manuscripts on our side, we must conclude that the correct reading in Plato excluded ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη, a phrase that likely appears in F and D because of the efforts of a scribe “to correct” the text.28 Interpretation As is typical of Plato’s practice, he does not treat Homer altogether fairly in this citation. While taken out-of-context, the passage can certainly be read as one that disparages life in Hades – Achilles after all is quite unhappy with his lot in the afterlife, despite his high status there – this is not the case in Homer. As Mitscherling argues, the passage as a whole – that is to say in its full context, which Plato ignores – “would appear to be perfectly suited to the edification of men who are destined to be warriors.”29 What Achilles laments most of all in Hades is his inability to continue to act as a warrior and, in addition, to witness the exploits of his own son in warfare. The problem with Achilles, however, according to the argument of the Republic, is that his heroism is predicated on misguided principles. Allan Bloom argues that Plato focuses on Achilles at this point in the argument to begin to work to undermine his status as the traditional paradigm of courage;30 for although Achilles is certainly courageous as a warrior on the battlefield, he is severely deficient in other respects as a warrior. Unlike the future guardians of Socrates’ ideal state, for example, Achilles does not fight for the good of the whole. He is unable to submit to political authority. While he displays a certain fearlessness before death, his 28

Such is the explanation offered by both Jowett & Campbell (1894, ad loc.) and Howes (1895, 182 n. 6). 29 Mitscherling 2008, 402. 30 Bloom 1991, 354-8.

252 courage is predicated not on “good hope,”31 but rather a love of honor. He, in effect, exchanges death – an utterly insignificant existence in Homer –32 for an immortal kleos. In this way, he serves to demonstrate the self-defeating and destructive nature of the heroic way of life; as Achilles shows, the only things that can endow a warrior’s life with meaning, war and death, are also the very same things that destroy it. Even though Socrates himself compares his own heroic mission to that of Achilles at Apology 28c-d,33 in the end this comparison serves only to underline the vast difference between the two men.34 While both men pursue their mission despite the fact that it means certain death, Achilles is motivated by wrath and the pursuit of timē – he is to be identified in the Republic with the excessively spirited man whose thumos reigns above the reasoning element of his soul. In contrast, Socrates is a man of reason, who approaches death with utter tranquility. As West 31

See, e.g., Socrates who, at Apology 29a11, welcomes death as possibly “the greatest of all blessings to man.” 32 On this point, see esp. Schein (1984, 67) with further bibliography there. 33 The scholarship on this comparison is fairly recent: Clay 1972, 57-60; T. West 1979, 151-66; Holway 1994; Deneen 2000, 95-9; Hobbs 2000, 178-86; Colaiaco 2001, 133-6; Planinc 2001, 58-9; Saxonhouse 2006, 118-20. 34 When comparing himself to Achilles, Plato’s Socrates happens to misquote Homer: “Straightway may I die, after doing vengeance upon the wrongdoer, that I may not stay here, jeered at beside the curved ships, a burden of the earth” (‘αὐτίκα,’ φησί, ‘τεθναίην, δίκην ἐπιθεὶς τῷ ἀδικοῦντι, ἵνα μὴ ἐνθάδε μένω καταγέλαστος παρὰ νηυσὶ κορωνίσιν ἄχθος ἀρούρης.’ μὴ αὐτὸν οἴει φροντίσαι θανάτου καὶ κινδύνου, 28d2-5). Although the first part of the quotation is exact, in the second part Socrates departs significantly from Homer’s text. He adds the phrase “after doing vengeance upon the wrongdoer” (δίκην ἐπιθεὶς τῷ ἀδικοῦντι, 28d2). In this addition, moreover, Socrates uses philosophic rather than poetic terms to describe his vengeance, perhaps mirroring the change implied here from poetic to philosophic hero. He does not use Homer’s verb τιμωρέω, with its closeness to the idea of heroic τιμή. Instead, Socrates uses the word δίκην. Moreover, he calls the “wrongdoer” not an enemy, but one who did an injustice (τῷ ἀδικοῦντι). Socrates, it seems, reinterprets Homeric justice in philosophic terms, and interprets the “justice” of Achilles’ vengeance in terms of absolute, philosophical standards of justice according to which it is never “just” to do harm to anyone, not even those who do harm to you. We shall see as this chapter continues how Plato means to demonstrate the deficiencies of Homeric justice in terms of philosophic standards, by taking Achilles’ actions out of the context of Homeric poetry and out of the context of the heroic value system.

253 remarks, “Socrates’ quiet conversations and exhortations to care for prudence, truth, and the good of the soul replace Achilles’ bloody deeds of war.”35 Achilles’ flawed heroic mission, his destructive tendencies, in a Platonic reading of the Iliad, primary arise from his disordered psyche. As Angela Hobbs puts it, “Achilles demonstrates all too painfully that an untrained and willful thumos, bent on elusive timē, is always liable to wreak havoc, both to society and to its possessor.”36 In calling Achilles to mind here, Socrates is working to challenge the heroic worldview as represented by the Iliad. In so doing, in Republic 3, Socrates will overturn the tragic vision of death in the Homeric epics, and thus in the process redefine the virtue of ἀνδρεία, or, as he takes it, fearlessness in the face of death. Finally, it is important to note, as Hobbs points out,37 that the contexts in which Achilles is depicted throughout the Republic are exceedingly negative.38 He is never singled out in the Republic for his prowess in warfare. Instead, we see him grieving excessively, raging out-ofcontrol, or otherwise suffering from some extreme emotion. In this way, Achilles seems not to be a great man. Instead, he is wretched, just as Socrates argues all unjust men are (cf., e.g., Rep. 1.353e–354a; 9.580c). In this way, Plato, through the use of Homeric citation, is able to depict Achilles not as a great hero, but as a flawed one, hardly worthy of imitation. And while his tactics of citation may seem Sophistic in nature – he seems on the surface to be bending poetic texts merely to validate his position – such misuse has an element of irony to it. Socrates is showing that poetic texts are liable to such misuse; if they fall into the wrong hands or are read

35

T. West 1979, 20. Hobbs 2000, 209. 37 Hobbs 2000, 207-8. 38 For more on this argument, see Hobbs 2000, 207-8. 36

254 in the wrong way – by a Sophist perhaps or an admiring, unanalytic public – they can be interpreted in such a way that is positively dangerous.

Quotation 12: Plato Rep. 3.386d1-2 : Homer Il. 20.64-65 Interpretive Context (Homer) The Homeric context in the next quotation in the sequence of citations in Plato running from Rep. 3.386c5-3.387a8 concerns the Theomachy, one of the most objectionable episodes in the Iliad in Plato’s view.39 In Homer, the clash of arms in battle is so great and Poseidon’s shaking of the earth so violent that the very earth seems about to be ripped apart, displaying for all to see the universally hated “dread and dank abode” (Il. 20.65 = Rep. 3.386d2) of Hades. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.386c8-d2 καὶ τὸ-[οἰκία δὲ θνητοῖς καὶ ἀθανάτοισι φανείη σμερδαλέ’, εὐρώεντα, τά τε στυγέουσι θεοί περ]

d

[Socrates:] “and also this: [and his abode be made plain to view for mortals and immortals, the dread and dank abode, wherefore the very gods have loathing] Homer Il. 20.54-65 ὣς τοὺς ἀμφοτέρους μάκαρες θεοὶ ὀτρύνοντες σύμβαλον, ἐν δ’ αὐτοῖς ἔριδα ῥήγνυντο βαρεῖαν· δεινὸν δὲ βρόντησε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε ὑψόθεν· αὐτὰρ νέρθε Ποσειδάων ἐτίναξε 39

55

See Allusion 13, also on the Theomachy. See also Disputed Citation 3, which some scholars claim is an allusion to the Theomachy as well.

255 γαῖαν ἀπειρεσίην ὀρέων τ’ αἰπεινὰ κάρηνα. πάντες δ’ ἐσσείοντο πόδες πολυπίδακος Ἴδης καὶ κορυφαί, Τρώων τε πόλις καὶ νῆες Ἀχαιῶν. ἔδεισεν δ’ ὑπένερθεν ἄναξ ἐνέρων Ἀϊδωνεύς, δείσας δ’ ἐκ θρόνου ἆλτο καὶ ἴαχε, μή οἱ ὕπερθε γαῖαν ἀναρρήξειε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων, [οἰκία δὲ θνητοῖσι καὶ ἀθανάτοισι φανείη σμερδαλέ’ εὐρώεντα, τά τε στυγέουσι θεοί περ·] τόσσος ἄρα κτύπος ὦρτο θεῶν ἔριδι ξυνιόντων.

60

65

Thus did the blessed gods urge on the two hosts to clash in battle, and amid them made grievous strife to burst forth. Then terribly thundered the father of gods and men from on high; and from beneath did Poseidon cause the vast earth to quake, and the steep crests of the mountains. All the roots of many-fountained Ida were shaken, and all her peaks, and the city of the Trojans, and the ships of the Achaeans. And seized with fear in the world below was Hades, lord of the shades, and in fear leapt he from his throne and cried aloud, lest above him the earth be cloven by Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth, [and his abode be made plain to view for mortals and immortals, the dread and dank abode, wherefore the very gods have loathing:] so great was the din that arose when the gods clashed in strife. Texts Plato Rep. 3.386d1-d2 [οἰκία δὲ θνητοῖς καὶ ἀθανάτοισι φανείη σμερδαλέ’, εὐρώεντα, τά τε στυγέουσι θεοί περ]

d

d1 θνητοῖς] θνητοῖς A D M : θνητοῖσι F Homer Il. 20.64-65 [οἰκία δὲ θνητοῖσι καὶ ἀθανάτοισι φανείη σμερδαλέ’ εὐρώεντα, τά τε στυγέουσι θεοί περ·]

65

Textual Differences 1) θνητοῖσι / θνητοῖς (d1) : θνητοῖσι (64) [Varying Manuscripts] [(Atticism)] The Homeric and Platonic texts potentially disagree at a single point. A, D, and M offer the Attic form θνητοῖς for Homer’s θνητοῖσι. Typical of F, the reading there is changed to θνητοῖσι to match Homer exactly. All modern editors with good reason, then, have followed the

256 majority reading of θνητοῖς in A, D, and M. I agree with this reading, but it is somewhat troubling that Plato should follow θνητοῖς with ἀθανάτοισι.40 Moreover, the fact that καὶ remains long in Plato’s line to accommodate the scansion despite the fact that it is followed by a vowel, namely the alpha of ἀθανάτοισι, is somewhat unusual in epic, though not unprecedented, especially when it does not coincide, as here, with the rhythmic accent. It is interesting to note that in all other ways Plato’s text agrees with that of Homer. This is especially surprising given that in Homer the lines in question are part of a fear clause, introduced by δείσας ... μή, a construction, presumably, that Plato expects his reader to recall, given that the quotation seems to begin quite abruptly. Plato also preserves Homer’s optative form of φανείη, governed by the fear clause in Homer. Interpretation This Homeric passage contains the sort of material that, according to Socrates’ argument in the Republic, inhibits courage. If Hades were viewed as a terrible place, Socrates’ would-be guardians would not be able to serve the state properly. For one, in the mold of a Homeric hero, they would selfishly pursue individual honor to avoid the obliteration of death rather than seek to cultivate social and psychic harmony; secondly, they would fail in their duty to protect the state, being unwilling to risk their lives and thus meet a fearful and loathsome fate in Hades. Socrates’ censorship of this Homeric passage is in accord with the rest of Plato’s corpus, which is permeated by the idea that death is not a positive evil.41 While Socrates cannot prove that death

40

The dative plural ending -οῖς is extremely rare in Homer (cf. Labarbe 1949, 167; Chantraine 2000, ad loc.). For this reason, Labarbe (1949, 167) concludes that a word I designate as an Atticism, θνητοῖς, is rather a rhapsodic variant. 41 Cf. Apology 28b ff.; 40c ff.; Phaedo 66e ff.; Gorgias 524d ff.; Laws 5.727d; 8.828d; 9.881a.

257 is not an evil, he can demonstrate that a belief that death may be good yields positive results for both the individual and society.

Quotation 13: Plato Rep. 3.386d4-5 : Homer Il. 23.103-104 (Cf. Quotation 16) Interpretive Context (Homer) In the Iliad, Achilles is visited in his dream by Patroclus, who asks him to bury his body. When Achilles goes to embrace Patroclus’ shade, his fingers run through his friend’s ψυχή (Il. 23.100) as if it were “smoke” (καπνὸς, 100), a passage cited below in Quotation 16. The lines from the episode quoted in Plato contain Achilles’ surprised remark at this phenomenon, punctuated by a pained shout of ὢ πόποι as he realizes that while there is some manner of ψυχή (Il. 23.104) and εἴδωλον (Il. 23.104) in Hades, there is no φρένες (Il. 23.104). I have not translated the Greek words ψυχή, εἴδωλον, and φρένες here because the real, courage-inhibiting “terror” of this passage for the philosopher depends on a reading of these, albeit extremely broad, terms in a way that is vastly different from their original meaning in the Homeric passage. I have accounted for these differences in meaning in preliminary fashion in my translations of the quoted passages below; I will discuss the meanings of ψυχή, εἴδωλον, and φρένες in greater detail in the Interpretation section of this citation. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.386d3-5 καὶ-[ὢ πόποι, ἦ ῥά τις ἔστι καὶ εἰν Ἀί̈δαο δόμοισιν ψυχὴ καὶ εἴδωλον, ἀτὰρ φρένες οὐκ ἔνι πάμπαν]

5

258 [Socrates:] “and: [‘Ah me! so it is that even in the house of Hades there exists some sort of soul and form, but altogether no mind therein.]” Homer Il. 23.97-107 ἀλλά μοι ἆσσον στῆθι· μίνυνθά περ ἀμφιβαλόντε ἀλλήλους ὀλοοῖο τεταρπώμεσθα γόοιο. ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ὠρέξατο χερσὶ φίλῃσιν οὐδ’ ἔλαβε· ψυχὴ δὲ κατὰ χθονὸς ἠύ̈τε καπνὸς 100 42 ᾤχετο τετριγυῖα· ταφὼν δ’ ἀνόρουσεν Ἀχιλλεὺς χερσί τε συμπλατάγησεν, ἔπος δ’ ὀλοφυδνὸν ἔειπεν· [ὢ πόποι ἦ ῥά τίς ἐστι καὶ εἰν Ἀί̈δαο δόμοισι ψυχὴ καὶ εἴδωλον, ἀτὰρ φρένες οὐκ ἔνι πάμπαν·] παννυχίη γάρ μοι Πατροκλῆος δειλοῖο 105 ψυχὴ ἐφεστήκει γοόωσά τε μυρομένη τε, καί μοι ἕκαστ’ ἐπέτελλεν, ἔϊκτο δὲ θέσκελον αὐτῷ. But, I pray, draw closer; though it be but for a little space let us clasp our arms one about the other, and take our fill of dire lamenting. So saying he reached forth with his hands, yet clasped him not; but the spirit like a vapor was gone beneath the earth, screeching faintly. And seized with amazement Achilles sprang up, and smote his hands together, and spoke a word of wailing: [‘Ah me! so it is that even in the house of Hades there is some sort of life and semblance of the body, but altogether no physicality therein;] for the whole night long has the spirit of hapless Patroclus stood over me, weeping and wailing, and gave me charge concerning each thing, and was wondrously like his very self. Texts Plato Rep. 386d4-5 [ὢ πόποι, ἦ ῥά τις ἔστι καὶ εἰν Ἀί̈δαο δόμοισιν ψυχὴ καὶ εἴδωλον, ἀτὰρ φρένες οὐκ ἔνι πάμπαν]

5

d4 τις] τις D T M : τι A F Homer Il. 23.103-104 [ὢ πόποι ἦ ῥά τίς ἐστι καὶ εἰν Ἀί̈δαο δόμοισι ψυχὴ καὶ εἴδωλον, ἀτὰρ φρένες οὐκ ἔνι πάμπαν·] 103 τίς] τι b h k V1 V32 42

104 om. Aristoph.

Verses 100-1 (ψυχὴ δὲ ... τετριγυῖα) are cited nearly immediately below. See Quotation 16.

259

Textual Differences 1) τις ἔστι (d4) : τίς ἐστι (103) [Arbitrary Editorial Decision] [(τι) Legitimate Variant] The accent of the Homeric and Platonic texts differs here because in the Platonic text ἔστι appears in its existential form and therefore does not behave as an enclitic. Reading existential ἔστι here, however, seems not to be preferred.43 The Homeric reading “there is some ψυχή” seems more natural than the Platonic one “there exists some ψυχή.” In the end, the difference in meaning between either of the readings is quite minor and something, because of the absence of diacritical marks, that would not have even been an issue in the classical versions of Homer’s and Plato’s texts. Thus, above I label the variant as an “Arbitrary Editorial Decision,” since either reading is possible. Equally insoluble is the difference between the readings τίς/τις and τι in both Homer and Plato. Both readings have strong manuscript support on either side, and the difference in meaning is not definitive in nature. With τίς/τις we read “there is some ψυχή”; with τι we read “the ψυχή is something.”44 All the same, some editors have strong opinions in favor of τίς/τις,45 others of τι.46

43

In support of this assertion, see Smyth ([1920] 1980, §918b). Both Leaf (1900-2, ad loc.) and Richardson (1993, ad loc.) point out that τι was likely the reading Propertius’ Homer had, as his sunt aliquid manes (Propertius 4.7.1) seems to allude to the Homeric passage. This sort of information, however, merely tells us about Propertius’ text of Homer, substantiating the claim that τι is a reading, but certainly not the only (or best) reading. Lohse (1964, 19) interprets the Propertian material similarly. 45 Lohse (1964, 20) claims that τι has better manuscript support in Plato and, therefore, is to be taken as the better reading; strangely he views the situation reversed in the case of Homer and prefers τις there. 44

260 2) δόμοισιν (d4) : δόμοισι (103) [Minor / Legitimate Variant] Here the difference in form between the Homeric and Platonic text is quite minor. There is no way to account for the presence of a nu-movable in Plato’s text, nor is there any reason to attach any significance to such a variant. Coming at line end, the nu-movable in Plato could have been added arbitrarily by a scribe, misremembered by Plato himself, or simply come down as a meaningless variant in Plato’s Homer. Interpretation There is hardly anything about the original passage in Homer that is overtly terrifying, anything to inspire real shock or fright. Socrates seems to pass over the “obvious” terrors of Hades in this and the whole of the series of Homeric quotations from Rep. 3.386c5-387b9. He does not bother censoring Homer’s mention of the Hounds of Hades (cf. Il. 8.361 ff.) or the horrifying, eternal torments of Tantalus or Sisyphus (cf. Od. 11. 576 ff.). Socrates is much more concerned with the metaphysical terrors of the afterlife, the idea that the ψυχή – in his understanding of the term, the divine, immortal seat of the will, intelligence, and personality – should cease to exist in any meaningful way. Socrates thus takes Homer out-of-context here, taking the terms ψυχή, εἴδωλον, and φρένες differently as compared to their use in their original context. It is not necessarily that Plato does not understand Homer’s use of these terms; the point is that if poetry is to be used as part of Socrates’ philosophic curriculum (or as part of any educational curriculum really), it must convey ideas that are consistent with and supportive of a “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) philosophic worldview. The problem with poetry, as 46

Leaf 1900-2, ad loc.; Labarbe 1949, 170; Richardson 1993, ad loc. Leaf demonstrates that hiatus after τι is not unusual in Homer (cf. Il. 5.465; 24.593; Od. 8.136; 9.339; 10.246) as, for example, the common hiatus of τί ἦ (τίη).

261 Socrates dramatizes here, is that its meaning is so easily misunderstood; the poets have not considered carefully the implications of their statements about such important matters as the nature of the afterlife and accordingly have not presented them with any consistency or clarity. In the original, Homeric passage, ψυχή and εἴδωλον are used nearly synonymously. Achilles is not sure what to make of the appearance of Patroclus’ “ghost,” but takes it as evidence that there is some kind of a ψυχή and εἴδωλον in the Underworld (note the modifying indefinite pronoun τίς in the Homeric passage), that is to say, some left over image of the living man. In Homer’s verse 100, he compares Patroclus’ ψυχή to smoke. According to this passage in Homer, the word ψυχή, which can be used to mean many things in Homer,47 is used to describe a smoke-like, phantom image of the deceased. When Achilles goes to embrace Patroclus’ smoke-like ψυχή and εἴδωλον, they slip through his grasp. Thus, when Achilles concludes that the ψυχή has no φρένες in death, he means φρένες here in the sense of physicality or corporeality.48 This interpretation is strengthened significantly when we take into consideration a parallel passage in the Odyssey. Odysseus’ encounter with his mother in the Underworld (Od. 11.204-23) is replete with many verbal echoes of the Iliad passage in question. In this passage, Odysseus springs toward his mother to embrace her, but she flies away from his arms “like a shadow” (σκιῇ, 207) or “a dream” (ὀνείρῳ, 207).49 Puzzled by his mother’s lack of physicality, Odysseus wonders whether his mother is a mere “phantom” or “ghost” (εἴδωλον,

47

On ψυχή in early Greek, see Jaeger ([1939] 1986, 74 ff.), Dodds (1951, 136-90), and Claus (1981). ψυχή in Homer refers not only to the ghostly residue which survives death but also to the principle of life in the living person. 48 See Sullivan (1988), who argues that the use of φρήν to suggest physicality alone is somewhat rare. 49 On the soul as a shadow, see Rochholz (1867, 59-130), von Negelein (1902, 1-37), Pradel (1904, 1-41), Frazer (1911, 77-100), and Bremmer (1983, 78 ff.).

262 213). Odysseus’ mother, however, describes the nature of the spirits in the Underworld as follows: This is the appointed way [δίκη, 218] with mortals when one dies. For the sinews no longer hold the flesh and the bones together, but the strong might of blazing fire destroys these, as soon as the life [θυμός, 221] leaves the white bones, and the spirit [ψυχὴ, 222], like a dream [ὄνειρος, 222], flits away, and hovers to and fro. The lack of physicality of those in the Underworld in Homer is made quite clear, then, if we interpret the Iliad passage in light of the Odyssean one. Thus, though some commentators and translators have taken φρένες here to mean in Homer “wits” or even “understanding,” they have done so incorrectly. While the word φρένες can be taken to refer to all manner of emotional, volitive, and cognitive activities and functions in Homer, the poet is not using φρένες in this way in this particular passage. Keep in mind that Patroclus’ ghost has just had a normal, intelligent conversation with Achilles and has even displayed an awareness of the world above by asking that his corpse receive proper burial rights. It is quite clear that his “wits” and “intelligence” are very much intact (though certainly this is not the general rule in Homer for spirits of the deceased after burial).50 The danger of the passage, however, in a Platonic sense comes into play when it is taken out-of-context – as Socrates takes it – and the full-range of meaning of ψυχή, εἴδωλον, and φρένες are taken into consideration. If we take ψυχή in the Platonic sense, the passage can hardly remain a part of Socrates’ educational curriculum; it poses too serious a threat to the idea that the ψυχή acts as the seat of reason and intelligence and the belief that it is immortal. In Plato, the ψυχή is hardly to be 50

See Quotation 14 on Tiresias’ special status as an intelligent soul. We have to take into consideration the fact that Achilles takes only a symbolic journey to the Underworld; he dreams about an encounter with Patroclus. He does not, like Odysseus in Odyssey 11, actually commune with the dead in the Underworld proper.

263 equated with a mere shadow image of the body.51 It is not a mere, incorporeal copy of the individual, but rather the true, underlying self, the center of one’s whole being, a representative of that in man which is closest to the divine: reason. In fact, ψυχή is better described in Plato by a word cognate with εἴδωλον; it is not an image,52 but rather more akin to a Form, an εἶδος.53 While the Homeric hero is anxious to preserve to integrity of his body above all else, to chase εἴδωλα rather than εἴδη, the philosopher seeks primarily to nourish and preserve his soul. To him the body is the ephemeral prison-house of the soul.54 Just consider the way in which the drama of Il. 23.103-104 centers on the body: Achilles experiences anguish over the fact that he cannot physically touch Patroclus’ body; Patroclus only visits Achilles in the first place to see to the proper treatment of his unburied body. If for no other reason, this obsession with bodily concerns makes this passage a danger for Socrates’ would-be guardians: it is a perversion of the philosophic value system which places mind above body. Finally, the word φρένες, taken in the sense of “wit,” “will,” or “understanding” – quite common in Homer –55 presents yet further problems for Socrates’ educational enterprise. While

51

For more on the development of the concept of ψυχή from Homer to Plato, see Böhme (1925, 5 n. 1), Onians (1951, 115-8), Peursen (1966), Adkins (1970, 44-8, 60-2), Claus (1981, 3-4), Bremmer (1983, 24, 54, 66-9), D. Robinson (1989, 1-29), and Taylor (1989, 111-26). 52 For Plato’s use and understanding of the term εἴδωλον, see, e.g., Rep. 2.382b-c, where Socrates describes how a falsehood in words produces an εἴδωλον (b10) of falsehood rather than “pure falsehood” (ἄκρατον ψεῦδος, c1). See also Rep. 10.598b where Socrates considers the way imitation in painting produces an εἴδωλον that approximates appearances rather than the actual truth. For the remaining examples of Plato’s use of εἴδωλον in the Republic, see Rep. 3.386d, 4.443c, 7.516a, 520c, 532b, 532c, 534c, 9.586b, 586c, 587c, 587d, 10.599a, 599d, 600e, 601b, 605c, 605c. Whereas the εἴδωλον in Plato is a mere image or symbol that can perhaps help to lead its spectator to reality, reality itself consists in εἴδη. 53 See Phaedo 79d-e on the designation of ψυχή as homoiotatos to Form. 54 On this notion in Platonic philosophy, see Protagoras 312c, 313a-314b, 351a-b, Crito 47d48a, Phaedo 65d, 115b-116a, and Republic 469d6-9, 526a-b, 535b-d. 55 On the full range of meaning of φρήν, see Snell (1953, 1-22) or, for a more recent source, Sullivan (1988).

264 the ψυχή may be granted an existence in the afterlife in Homer, without intelligence it essentially loses its reason to be; it can no longer perform its most basic function. The purpose of the soul in Plato is not to serve as some ghostly image of the body or some vaguely defined life-force,56 but rather to serve as the immortal seat of reason, the center of rational judgment and moral choice. Without understanding, in the Platonic view of things, the afterlife would indeed be truly fearful. Further, in terms of the efficacy of Socrates’ reformed, philosophic educational curriculum, what possible motivation could the guardians have to fight to the death (i.e. to display courage), if their ψυχή should cease to function in death? Whereas the loss of the body of a Homeric hero is compensated for by an immortal kleos,57 Socrates’ guardians are assuaged grief by their belief in the immortality of the ψυχή. By misinterpreting Il. 23.103-104, taking it as Socrates does to be a degradation of the nature and the functioning of the ψυχή, the entire philosophic enterprise is rendered somewhat meaningless. What is the point of cultivating the ψυχή, if in the end it will be deprived of all understanding? Why seek truth above honor or money, those things which yield immediate material advantage and social influence? In this way the philosopher’s practice of dialectic, his truth-seeking, should become as meaningless as Achilles’ continued participation in his mission, honor-seeking,58 after he was deprived of his timē resulting from Agamemnon’s abduction of Briseis. Thus, while on the surface and in its own context Il. 23.103-104 does not seem to serve as a serious threat to philosophic ἀνδρεία, upon closer inspection it is a grave threat indeed.

56

On the ψυχή in Homer as life force, see Il. 9.408 f., 16.505, Od. 10.560, 11.222. See also Claus (1981). 57 See Smyth (1912, 243) and Rohde (1972, 6) on the understanding of the self in the Homeric poems in bodily terms. 58 On the psychology of the Homeric hero, see esp. Schein (1984, 68-72).

265

Quotation 14: Plato Rep. 3.386d7 : Homer Od. 10.495 (Cf. Plato Meno 100a5) Interpretive Context In Book 10 of the Odyssey, Circe tells Odysseus as he prepares to depart from her island on his homeward journey that he must go to the Underworld first to visit the seer Tiresias, who alone among the dead maintains understanding (cf. οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, Od. 10.495). Original Context Plato Rep. 3.386d6-7 καὶ τὸ-[οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, ταὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀί̈σσουσι] [Socrates:] “and this: [that he alone should have understanding; but they [the other spirits] flit about as shadows]” Homer Od. 10.488-498 ‘διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχαν’ Ὀδυσσεῦ, μηκέτι νῦν ἀέκοντες ἐμῷ ἐνὶ μίμνετε οἴκῳ. ἀλλ’ ἄλλην χρὴ πρῶτον ὁδὸν τελέσαι καὶ ἱκέσθαι εἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης, ψυχῇ χρησομένους Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο, μάντηος ἀλαοῦ, τοῦ τε φρένες ἔμπεδοί εἰσι· τῷ καὶ τεθνηῶτι νόον πόρε Περσεφόνεια, [οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, τοὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀίσσουσιν.’] “ὣς ἔφατ’, αὐτὰρ ἐμοί γε κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ· κλαῖον δ’ ἐν λεχέεσσι καθήμενος, οὐδέ νύ μοι κῆρ ἤθελ’ ἔτι ζώειν καὶ ὁρᾶν φάος ἠελίοιο.

490

495

[Calypso:] ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, Odysseus of many devices, stay now no longer in my house against your will; but you must first complete another journey, and come to the house of Hades and dread Persephone, to seek soothsaying of the spirit of Theban Tiresias, the blind seer, whose wits [φρένες, 493] abide steadfast. To him even in death Persephone has granted mind [νόον, 494], [that he alone should have understanding; but the others flit about as

266 shadows.’] “So she spoke, and my spirit [ἦτορ, 496] was broken within me, and I wept as I sat on the bed, nor had my heart [κῆρ, 497] any longer desire to live and behold the light of the sun.” Cross-Reference Plato Meno 99e4-100a7 εἰ δὲ νῦν ἡμεῖς ἐν παντὶ τῷ λόγῳ τούτῳ καλῶς ἐζητήσαμέν τε καὶ ἐλέγομεν, ἀρετὴ ἂν εἴη οὔτε φύσει οὔτε διδακτόν, ἀλλὰ θείᾳ μοίρᾳ παραγιγνομένη ἄνευ νοῦ οἷς ἂν παραγίγνηται, εἰ μή τις εἴη τοιοῦτος τῶν πολιτικῶν ἀνδρῶν οἷος καὶ ἄλλον ποιῆσαι πολιτικόν. εἰ δὲ εἴη, σχεδὸν ἄν τι οὗτος λέγοιτο τοιοῦτος ἐν τοῖς ζῶσιν οἷον ἔφη Ὅμηρος ἐν τοῖς τεθνεῶσιν τὸν Τειρεσίαν εἶναι, λέγων περὶ αὐτοῦ, ὅτι [οἶος πέπνυται τῶν ἐν Ἅιδου, τοὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀίσσουσι.] ταὐτὸν ἂν καὶ ἐνθάδε ὁ τοιοῦτος ὥσπερ παρὰ σκιὰς ἀληθὲς ἂν πρᾶγμα εἴη πρὸς ἀρετήν.

a

5

If we were right in the way in which we spoke and investigated in this whole discussion, virtue would be neither an inborn quality nor taught, but comes to those who possess it as a gift from the gods which is not accompanied by understanding, unless there is someone among our statesmen who can make another into a statesman. If there were one, he could be said to be among the living as Homer said Tiresias was among the dead, namely, that [he alone has understanding among those in Hades, but the others flit about as shadows.] In the same way he on earth, in respect of virtue, will be a real substance among shadows. The meaning of Plato’s Homeric borrowing here at the end of the Meno here has been discussed fairly extensively in scholarship.59 It is interesting to note that in both the Republic and the Meno, Socrates undergoes a symbolic Underworld journey to discuss politics.60 While in the Meno, Socrates is associated with Tiresias himself, as a man preeminent among the living in

59

See, e.g., Scott (1995) and Reuter (2001, 89): The Meno concludes with the Homeric image of Tiresias that allows Plato to draw a contrast that is pregnant with meaning when read in the light of the metaphysical views expressed in both the Phaedo and Republic. The statesmen who are canvassed and categorically dismissed in the Meno for their inability to teach goodness are nothing but shadows (skiai) (100a5). The statesmen-philosophers who can teach goodness and make others like themselves are the genuine article, the true reality (alethes pragma) (100b6-7). 60 For another example of Socrates undergoing a symbolic journey to the Underworld, see Protagoras 315b-c.

267 respect to understanding, in the Republic the passage is censored, as will be discussed in detail below, as one that could inhibit courage among the guardians.

Texts Plato Rep. 3.386d7 [οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, ταὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀί̈σσουσι] d7 οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι] οἷος πέπνυται F

ταὶ δὲ] τοὶ δὲ F (sed in marg. γρ. ταὶ δὲ)

Homer Od. 10.495 [οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, τοὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀίσσουσιν.’]

495

Plato Meno 100a5 [οἶος πέπνυται τῶν ἐν Ἅιδου, τοὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀίσσουσι.]

5

a5 τῶν ἐν Ἅιδου] secl. Hermann

τοὶ δὲ Burnet] αἱ δὲ B T W : οἵδε F

Textual Differences 1) οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι [οἷος πέπνυται F] (d7) : οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι (495) [Illegitimate Variant] F displays the reading οἷος πέπνυται, unprecedented in Homer, Plato, or the secondary tradition.61 This situation is particularly odd given the fact that often, as we have seen, F shows evidence of being collated with reference to Homer’s vulgate. Labarbe hypothesizes that as οἷος πέπνυται is suspect in respect neither to meter nor to sense, it was the reading of Plato’s Homer.62 Howes argues, with no evidence or reasoning to back up his assumption, that οἷος πέπνυται is a scribal error.63 What is the more likely explanation, however, is that the scribe of 61

Cf. Stobaeus (Anth. 1.49.54 [Wachsmuth]). Labarbe 1949, 174-5. 63 Howes 1895, 206. 62

268 F duplicated the reading he used for Od. 10.495 earlier in the same manuscript. At Meno 100a5, Socrates also cites Od. 10.495. In this case, however, he does so in the context of indirect statement, introduced by λέγων ... ὅτι (100a4), which would thus account for the finite verb πέπνυται replacing Homer’s πεπνῦσθαι. For whatever reason, the scribe of F duplicated his earlier reading, inappropriate in its new context. It is clear, however, that he or a later hand was aware of the Homeric reading, as οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι is placed in the margin of the text of F. We can see how vastly different the context of the Meno’s citation is from that of the Republic as Plato’s text supplies a τῶν ἐν Ἅιδου to make it clear that it is among the dead that Tiresias was preeminent in respect to intelligence.

2) ταὶ (d7) : τοὶ (495) [Legitimate Variant / Scribal Error/Correction] The difference between the Homeric and Platonic texts is quite minor here. In Plato ταὶ acts as (the Homeric form of) the article to agree with σκιαὶ. In Homer, τοὶ acts as a demonstrative pronoun, whose implied antecedent is the other souls in the Underworld. The move from ταὶ to τοὶ can be explained either as a legitimate variant – both readings are sensible and similar in meaning – or as a scribal error or even correction. It is easy to imagine a scribe confusing an α for an ο or mistaking τοὶ for the article, correcting it to ταὶ so that it agrees properly with the feminine, nominative, plural noun σκιαὶ. The one Platonic manuscript that agrees with Homer is F. It is likely, however, that this is yet further evidence of F having been collated to agree with Homer’s vulgate. It is interesting to note as above, the “standard” Platonic reading ταὶ is noted in the margin of F, perhaps suggesting that this was the original reading present in the text that the scribe was copying or an

269 alternative reading of which he was otherwise aware. Besides being the reading of A and T, ταὶ in Plato is further corroborated by the secondary tradition with Porphry.64 The reading of Od. 10.495 at Meno 100a5 shows some variety in the manuscripts. B, T, and W read αἱ δὲ, the Attic form of the article used to agree with σκιαὶ, and F reads οἵδε, the Attic form of the demonstrative used to replace Homer’s τοὶ δὲ. An Attic form is to be expected in Plato, given that Socrates cites Homer in indirect statement. Thus, while this allows us to discount Burnet’s textual emendation, τοί δὲ, a “correction” used so that Plato’s text agrees exactly with Homer’s, it raises the question: is αἱ δὲ or οἵδε the better reading? Given the weight of evidence (three MSS. to one), αἱ δὲ seems best, but it is impossible to say for sure. It is altogether possible that the scribe of F confused ο for α or else attempted to bring Plato’s text in-line with Homer’s by using a demonstrative (as in Homer) rather than an article. 3) ἀί̈σσουσι (d7) : ἀίσσουσιν (495) [Minor / Legitimate Variant] As was the case in Quotation 13 above,65 the difference in form between the Homeric and Platonic texts is extraordinarily minor. There is no way to account for the presence of a numovable in Plato’s text nor is there any reason to attach any significance to such a variant. Coming at line end, the nu-movable could have been added arbitrarily by a scribe, misremembered by Plato himself, or simply come down as a meaningless variant in Plato’s Homer. The difference in diacritical marks above the verb in the two texts is the result of different, modern editorial practice. Interpretation 64 65

Cf. Stobaeus (Anth. 1.49.54 [Wachsmuth]). See Textual Differences 2.

270 As was the case above in Quotation 13, here Plato’s Socrates is censoring a passage that is not fearful in a traditional sense but fearful as it attributes a lack of intellectual ability to the ψυχή. As was the case above in Quotation 13, here Socrates again takes Homer’s words grossly out-ofcontext.66 Homer depicts Tiresias as a soul with understanding in order to point out that in the same way that the seer was preeminent among the living due to his mental gifts, he remains a special case in death as well. While the rest of the dead are “shadows” (σκιαὶ, Od. 10.495) or are described in Homer as “worn-out” (cf., e.g. καμόντων, Od. 11.476) or “feeble,” (cf. ἀμενηνὰ, Od. 10.521, 11.29, inter alia), Tiresias retains both his φρένες and νόος (translated above as “mind” though in Homer also denoting “thought,” “purpose,” “intent”; the later “philosophic” meaning of the word as “intellect” or “reason” no doubt would make this passage all the more threatening to Socrates’ educational program).67 As was pointed out above in Quotation 13, in order to preserve the courage of his guardians, Socrates must promote the belief that Tiresias’ state in the afterlife is not the exception, but the rule. Otherwise, to the view of many, the fostering of a harmonious soul, like risking of the body without a kleos for the Homeric hero, seems to be all in vain.

Quotation 15: Plato Rep. 3.386d9-10 : Homer Il. 16.856-857; 22.362-363

66

It is clear, however, that Plato expects more of his reader than he did while composing the Meno. The context of the Homeric passage is spelled out more clearly in the Meno with the insertion of the phrase τῶν ἐν Ἅιδου and the mention of Homer and Tiresias; in the Republic, Plato expects his reader to grasp the broader context immediately. 67 On the meaning of νόος in Homer beyond that which is included in the LSJ, see Sullivan (1995, 21) and Deneen (2000, 94). On νόος as a process of φρένες in Homer, see Il. 18.419.

271 Interpretive Context The lines Plato quotes here appear in Homer in complementary scenes. The first instance occurs in Iliad 16 as Patroclus, felled by Hector, foretells Hector’s death at the hands of Achilles.68 In Iliad 22, Achilles, avenging himself on Hector for Patroclus’ death, is told by Hector that he will meet his own death at the hands of Paris. Whereas Hector rejects Patroclus’ pronouncements, Achilles knows before he speaks to Hector that he is destined to die at Troy. In each case, these prophetic statements of death are the hero’s last words. Thereafter, their souls depart for Hades, bewailing the loss of their “manliness and youth” (ἀνδροτῆτα καὶ ἥβην, Il. 16.858), the words which Plato quotes.69 It is worth noting that the line preceding Plato’s quotation in both Homeric passages is identical (verses Il. 16.855 and Il. 22.361 respectively) as are the following verses (Il. 16.858 and Il. 22.363), though these lines substitute the name and epithet of the hero concerned.70 Original Context Plato Rep. 2.386d8-10 καὶ-[ψυχὴ δ’ ἐκ ῥεθέων πταμένη Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει, ὃν πότμον γοόωσα, λιποῦσ’ ἀνδροτῆτα καὶ ἥβην] and: [and his soul fleeting from his limbs was gone to Hades, bewailing its fate, leaving manliness and youth.] Homer Il. 16.851-857 ἄλλο δέ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δ’ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσιν· 68

On the belief of the prophetic power of the dying, see Scholiast A and Benner ([1902] 2000, ad loc.). 69 See the imitation of these lines in Vergil (Aeneid 11.831 (= 12.952): Vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras); on this imitation, see Wills (1997, 196-7). 70 On the many parallels between these passages, see Schadewaldt (1959, 262, 323 and 499 ff.), Fenik (1968, 217-8), Richardson (1993, ad loc.), and Watkins (1995).

272 οὔ θην οὐδ’ αὐτὸς δηρὸν βέῃ, ἀλλά τοι ἤδη ἄγχι παρέστηκεν θάνατος καὶ μοῖρα κραταιὴ χερσὶ δαμέντ’ Ἀχιλῆος ἀμύμονος Αἰακίδαο. ὣς ἄρα μιν εἰπόντα τέλος θανάτοιο κάλυψε· [ψυχὴ δ’ ἐκ ῥεθέων πταμένη Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει ὃν πότμον γοόωσα λιποῦσ’ ἀνδροτῆτα71 καὶ ἥβην.]

855

857 ἀνδροτῆτα] ἁδροτῆτα g U2 U4 V10 V15 V32, Plutarch de. aud poet. 17d [Patroclus to Hector] “And another thing will I tell you, and may you lay it to heart: verily you shall not yourself be long in life, but even now does death stand hard by you, and mighty fate, that you be slain beneath the hands of Achilles, the peerless son of Aeacus.” Even as he thus spoke the end of death enfolded him; [and his soul fleeting from his limbs was gone to Hades, bewailing its fate, leaving manliness and youth.] Homer Il. 22.356-363 ἦ σ᾽ εὖ γιγνώσκων προτιόσσομαι, οὐδ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἔμελλον πείσειν· ἦ γὰρ σοί γε σιδήρεος ἐν φρεσὶ θυμός. φράζεο νῦν, μή τοί τι θεῶν μήνιμα γένωμαι ἤματι τῷ ὅτε κέν σε Πάρις καὶ Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων ἐσθλὸν ἐόντ᾽ ὀλέσωσιν ἐνὶ Σκαιῇσι πύλῃσιν. ὣς ἄρα μιν εἰπόντα τέλος θανάτοιο κάλυψε, [ψυχὴ δ᾽ ἐκ ῥεθέων πταμένη Ἄϊδόσδε βεβήκει ὃν πότμον γοόωσα λιποῦσ᾽ ἀνδροτῆτα καὶ ἥβην.]

360

363 ἀνδροτῆτα] ἁδροτῆτα g Plutarch de aud. poet. 17d : v. om. V1 [Hector to Achilles] “Verily I know you well, and forbode what shall be, neither was it to be that I should persuade you; of a truth the heart in your breast is of iron. Consider now how I bring the wrath of the gods upon you on the day when Paris and Phoebus Apollo shall slay you, valorous as you are, at the Scaean gate.” Even as he thus spoke the end of death enfolded him; [and his soul fleeting from his limbs was gone to Hades, bewailing its fate, leaving manliness and youth.] 71

A great deal of scholarship is devoted to the special metrical case of ἀνδροτῆτα which, likely showing evidence of a pre-Mycenaean stage of the development of Greek, must be scanned as ( u u – u), taking ρ as syllabic and δ as an example of dental epenthesis occurring between nasal and liquid consonants (termed “development” in Smyth ([1920] 1980, §130)). ἁδροτῆτα likely exists as an attempt to regularize the metrical scheme of the line, in the process sacrificing little in the way of meaning. Note Clemm’s emendation λιποῦσα δροτῆτα, designed to avoid the metrical oddities of ἁδροτῆτα. Eustatius as well as Plato, however, follow the reading ἀνδροτῆτα. For more detail on editorial strategies concerning this line, see Leumann (1950, 222 n. 16), Wackernagel (1953, 1116 n. 1; cf. 1170 n. 1), Latacz (1965), Tichy (1981), and M. L. West (1982, 15).

273

Textual Differences Plato and Homer’s texts agree. Interpretation In yet another citation, Socrates censors a passage in Homer that portrays the degradation of the ψυχή in the afterlife. This time it is not φρήν or νόος that is lacking, but manliness and youth (ἀνδροτῆτα καὶ ἥβην, Il. 16.858). It is fitting that Socrates chooses this passage in the context of inculcating the virtue of courage, as ἀνδρεία and ἀνδρότης may be said to be nearly synonymous. The context of the Homeric passages likely would not have been lost on many of Plato’s contemporary readers. It is a significant blow to the integrity of the Homeric epic that Socrates should propose the censorship of two passages that stand as the respective climaxes of the epic, namely the death of Hector and that of Achilles. While the souls of these men lose their fundamental nature at the moment of death, Socrates wishes to propose a different possibility for his guardians. Whereas the Homeric ψυχή is rendered useless, a shadow of its former self when released from the body, in Plato the opposite is true; taking into account the so-called Theory of Recollection (cf., e.g., Meno 80a-86c, Phaedo 72e-77a, Phaedrus 249b-c, Politicus 277d, inter alia), the soul is not strengthened by its communion with the body, but is weakened, only gradually recalling its latent knowledge.

Quotation 16: Plato Rep. 3.387a2-3 : Homer Il. 23.100-101 (Cf. Quotation 13)

274 Interpretive Context The Homeric context of the citation is that of Quotation 13 above: Achilles is visited by the spirit of Patroclus in a dream; when he tries to embrace his beloved friend his fingers run through his ψυχή (Il. 23.100) as if it were “smoke” (καπνὸς, 100). Original Context Plato Rep. 3.387a1-3 καὶ τὸ-[ψυχὴ δὲ κατὰ χθονός, ἠύ̈τε καπνός, ᾤχετο τετριγυῖα]

a

and: [but the spirit like a vapor was gone beneath the earth, screeching faintly.] Homer Il. 23.97-101 ἀλλά μοι ἆσσον στῆθι· μίνυνθά περ ἀμφιβαλόντε ἀλλήλους ὀλοοῖο τεταρπώμεσθα γόοιο. ὣς ἄρα φωνήσας ὠρέξατο χερσὶ φίλῃσιν οὐδ’ ἔλαβε· [ψυχὴ δὲ κατὰ χθονὸς ἠύ̈τε καπνὸς ᾤχετο τετριγυῖα …]

100

But, I pray, draw closer; though it be but for a little space let us clasp our arms one about the other, and take our fill of dire lamenting. So saying he reached forth with his hands, yet clasped him not; [but the spirit like a vapor was gone beneath the earth, screeching faintly.] Textual Differences Plato’s and Homer’s text agree perfectly in this citation. In a sense, of course, the quotation is incomplete as Socrates cites only the first half of verse 101; the remaining content, however, is immaterial to his purpose and nearly redundant given his previous citation of the same Homeric scene above in Quotation 13. Interpretation

275 Once again, Socrates wishes to censor a passage that depicts death in a negative light. Here the soul is again likened to “smoke” (καπνὸς) and it also has reduced faculties, this time a diminished voice. Rather than being an embodiment of the true self, the ψυχή in this Homeric passage is depicted as a pale reflection of it.72 The “screeching” (τετριγυῖα, 101) of the soul of Patroclus, moreover, seems perhaps to suggest the image of a bat and thus its abode: the cave. Later in the Republic, in the Allegory of the Cave (Rep. 7.514-517), Plato will more fully exploit this image, as the cave will act as the figurative image of the philosopher’s katabasis into the world of politics, a world of opinions, shadow-images, a sort of land of the dead for the harmonious ψυχή of the true philosopher. In the final quotation in the series below, Plato will continue to develop the image of the screeching soul, thus bringing into yet sharper relief the mistaken “Homeric belief” of the ψυχή as a pale and impotent shadow-image of the self.

Quotation 17: Plato Rep. 3.387a5-8 : Homer Od. 24.6-9 Interpretive Context The context in Plato is the same as above. In Homer, the spirits of the murdered suitors are being conveyed by Hermes to the Underworld. Their spirits are described as screeching like bats in a cave when the chain they form between one another is broken.73

72

On the voice as an εἴδωλον of the αὐτός, see Leaf (1900-2, ad loc.). Aristarchus rejects this entire passage of the Odyssey. His objections as well as ancient reactions to them are well-summarized in the scholia and, in the modern era, by Merry (1886, ad 73

276 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.387a4-8 καὶ-[ὡς δ’ ὅτε νυκτερίδες μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο τρίζουσαι ποτέονται, ἐπεί κέ τις ἀποπέσῃσιν ὁρμαθοῦ ἐκ πέτρης, ἀνά τ’ ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται, ὣς αἳ τετριγυῖαι ἅμ’ ᾔεσαν.]

5

and: [And as in the innermost recess of a wondrous cave bats flit about screeching, when one has fallen from off the rock from the chain in which they cling to one another, so these went with him screeching,] Homer Od. 24.1-10 Ἑρμῆς δὲ ψυχὰς Κυλλήνιος ἐξεκαλεῖτο ἀνδρῶν μνηστήρων· ἔχε δὲ ῥάβδον μετὰ χερσὶν καλὴν χρυσείην, τῇ τ’ ἀνδρῶν ὄμματα θέλγει ὧν ἐθέλει, τοὺς δ’ αὖτε καὶ ὑπνώοντας ἐγείρει· τῇ ῥ’ ἄγε κινήσας, ταὶ δὲ τρίζουσαι ἕποντο. [ὡς δ’ ὅτε νυκτερίδες μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο τρίζουσαι ποτέονται, ἐπεί κέ τις ἀποπέσῃσιν ὁρμαθοῦ ἐκ πέτρης, ἀνά τ’ ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται, ὣς αἱ τετριγυῖαι ἅμ’ ἤϊσαν·] ἦρχε δ’ ἄρα σφιν Ἑρμείας ἀκάκητα κατ’ εὐρώεντα κέλευθα.

5

10

Meanwhile Cyllenian Hermes called forth the spirits [ψυχὰς, 1] of the suitors. He held in his hands his wand, a fair wand of gold, wherewith he lulls to sleep the eyes of whom he will, while others again he wakens even out of slumber; with this he roused and led the spirits, and they followed squeaking [τρίζουσαι, 5]. [And as in the innermost recess of a wondrous cave bats flit about screeching, when one has fallen from off the rock from the chain in which they

loc.). Merry seems to be swayed by Aristarchus’ reasoning, saying this second νέκυια is “poetically speaking, a failure” and that it is “a frigid repetition of motifs already exhausted.” He even claims, “the language shows clear traces of a later period.” He does not cite any specific linguistic evidence, though Aristarchus himself (with modern commentators following) cites the contraction of Ἑρμῆς (1) as post-Homeric as well as the epithet Κυλλήνιος (1). Given Plato’s citation of this passage, the opinion of Merry as well as that of Aristarchus must be given no credence whatsoever; indeed, it should even give us cause to reassess what we consider as postHomeric.

277 cling to one another, so these went with him screeching,] and Hermes, the Helper, led them down the dank ways. Texts Plato Rep. 3.387a5-8 [ὡς δ’ ὅτε νυκτερίδες μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο τρίζουσαι ποτέονται, ἐπεί κέ τις ἀποπέσῃσιν ὁρμαθοῦ ἐκ πέτρης, ἀνά τ’ ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται, ὣς αἳ τετριγυῖαι ἅμ’ ᾔεσαν.]

5

Homer Od. 24.6-9 [ὡς δ’ ὅτε νυκτερίδες μυχῷ ἄντρου θεσπεσίοιο τρίζουσαι ποτέονται, ἐπεί κέ τις ἀποπέσῃσιν ὁρμαθοῦ ἐκ πέτρης, ἀνά τ’ ἀλλήλῃσιν ἔχονται, ὣς αἱ τετριγυῖαι ἅμ’ ἤϊσαν·] ἦρχε δ’ ἄρα σφιν Textual Differences 1) αἳ (a8) : αἱ (9) [Modern Arbitrary Editorial Decision] Slings has taken what is printed in H. van Thiel’s Homer as an article (αἱ) to be a demonstrative pronoun (αἳ). It is impossible to discern which reading is correct or indeed preferable, given that such readings are dependent only on modern editorial procedure. 2) ᾔεσαν (a8) : ἤϊσαν (9) [Atticism] Here Plato or his scribe uses the Attic form ᾔεσαν for the imperfect of εἶμι in place of Homer’s ἤϊσαν. In the secondary tradition Eusthatius (1951.30) happens to confirm the Homeric reading. While Labarbe argues that “Plato’s error” arises from the fact that he is either quoting from memory or Atticisms have been introduced into the text from the “oral tradition,” such suppositions are of little value as they can be neither confirmed nor denied.

278 Interpretation With this citation, Plato once again introduces the imagery of bats and hence the cave. It is thus instructive to consider how bats were understood as a symbol for the soul in antiquity. Maurizio Bettini, who has done the most in-depth work on symbols for the soul in antiquity, claims that “bats were associated with souls caught up by mad love for corporeal life; like bats these souls have corporeal wings, thick and earthy.”74 Such a reading fits the evidence of the Republic well. The spirits of the Suitors in the passage cited above cling to one another, blind, unintelligible in their screeching. As we have seen from the entire series of passages, the soul’s dependence on the body in Homer is paramount. Even in Hades, the disembodied spirits of the dead cannot converse with the living without being restored to corporeality through the consumption of blood (cf., e.g. Od. 11.23-50, 147-9).75 Such a system of belief dooms men in the Platonic system to remain figuratively as bats: imprisoned in a cave, blinded by an interest in their passions and the things of the body. The way out of such a dark and limited existence is the practice of philosophy. In this respect, as many commentators have suggested, Plato implicitly compares Socrates to the psychogogues Tiresias and Hermes, alluded to in this series of Underworld citations.76 While in Homer, Hermes leads the doomed spirits of the Suitors to the Underworld, Socrates leads the souls of his charges out of it. He delivers Glaucon and Adeimantus out of the cave of human politics and opinion, encouraging them to order their souls properly and to ascend to the intelligible realm, to cure them of a sort of bat-like soul blindness. Like Tiresias,

74

Bettini (1991, 237-8); for ancient commentary on the image of bats and corporeality as it applies specifically to this passage in Plato, see Proclus (Comm. in Plat. Resp. 1.120.5-10). 75 Even in the case of Tiresias, he cannot carry out his prophecy on Odysseus’ behalf until he drinks blood. 76 On the image of Tiresias, see Ferrari (2007, 57, 61-3, 68, 71-2); On that of Hermes, see Ferrari (2007, 72).

279 moreover, Socrates is the only one capable of such movement himself as he possesses an intelligence and understanding beyond that of his fellow cave inhabitants. And so in Plato, rather than clinging to the body, the soul benefits from being released from it. The soul is not blind, making unintelligible sounds, but rather can see for the first time as it enters a realm of pure intelligibility. Rather than inhabiting a dark cave, the ψυχή in Plato seeks to reside with the Forms themselves.

Quotation 18: Plato Rep. 7.516d4 : Homer Od. 11.489-490 (Cf. Quotation 11) Interpretive Context Despite the fact that Quotation 18 is separated from Quotations 11-17 by nearly 130 Stephanus pages, 18 has much in common with this earlier set of citations. While in Quotations 16 and 17 we encounter bats (or at least souls screeching like them), in Quotation 18, we enter the bats’ abode proper: The Cave. Indeed, Quotation 18 comes in the midst of The Allegory of the Cave, wherein Socrates offers a metaphorical description of the nature of enlightenment. In the section of The Allegory of the Cave in which Quotation 18 appears, Socrates describes a man who, having made his way out of The Cave, recalls his previous existence there. Such a man, Socrates argues, would have no interest in possessing the honors, praises, or prizes of the cave dwellers. Instead, he would pity those still in the cave, willing to “go through any sufferings, rather than share their opinions and live as they do” (Rep. 7.516d6-7). It is at this point that Socrates calls upon the words of Achilles, or as Socrates chooses to credit the citation, Homer himself. As Achilles reports to Odysseus in Book 11 of the Odyssey, he would rather be a landless serf than

280 king of all the dead. Like the enlightened inhabitant of Socrates’ cave, then, in his lowered state, Achilles has no interest in “the honors, praises, or prizes,” of those around him, naturally a thoroughly ironic characterization of Achilles, the pre-eminent warrior, as his epic begins, in respect to his interest in honors, praises, and prizes. On the one hand, then, Socrates’ use of this Homeric quotation is totally appropriate. Socrates uses it to draw a connection between Hades and life in the Cave.77 In the same way that the dead suffer an insubstantial existence in Hades according to Homer, especially in respect to their mental capacities diminishing, the same is true of the living in Plato, if their soul lacks philosophy or the rule of reason. Such a soul is trapped in a kind of Hell, unaware of the true nature of reality, mistaking reflections and the shadows of models of things for the things themselves. On the other hand, this quotation is quite out-of-place. Recall that when Socrates had earlier used the quotation (cf. Quotation 11), he marked it out for censorship, grouping it among other quotations that would negatively affect the cultivation of the virtue of courage among the guardian class. While Socrates’ use of a previously censored Homeric passage may seem problematic at first glance, or at best a mere “coincidence” or “minor infelicity,”78 I shall explain below, in the Interpretation section of this citation, how Socrates’ use of a censored passage here is in no way inconsistent, but rather a means to replace poetry, or at least recontextualize it in such a way, that it acts as an ally rather than an enemy of philosophy. Original Context Plato Rep. 7.516c8-d7 Τιμαὶ δὲ καὶ ἔπαινοι εἴ τινες αὐτοῖς ἦσαν τότε παρ’ 77

For more on the meaning of and a defense of this implicit comparison, see Deneen (2000, 114). 78 These are possible interpretations that O’Connor (2007, 59) proposes.

281 ἀλλήλων καὶ γέρα τῷ ὀξύτατα καθορῶντι τὰ παριόντα, καὶ μνημονεύοντι μάλιστα ὅσα τε πρότερα αὐτῶν καὶ ὕστερα εἰώθει καὶ ἅμα πορεύεσθαι, καὶ ἐκ τούτων δὴ δυνατώτατα ἀπομαντευομένῳ τὸ μέλλον ἥξειν, δοκεῖς ἂν αὐτὸν ἐπιθυμητικῶς αὐτῶν ἔχειν καὶ ζηλοῦν τοὺς παρ’ ἐκείνοις τιμωμένους τε καὶ ἐνδυναστεύοντας, ἢ τὸ τοῦ Ὁμήρου ἂν πεπονθέναι καὶ σφόδρα [βούλεσθαι “ἐπάρουρον ἐόντα θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ ἀνδρὶ παρ’ ἀκλήρῳ”] καὶ ὁτιοῦν ἂν πεπονθέναι μᾶλλον ἢ ‘κεῖνά τε δοξάζειν καὶ ἐκείνως ζῆν;

10 d

5

[Socrates to Glaucon:] “And if there had been any honors, praises, or prizes among them for the one who was sharpest at identifying the shadows as they passed by and who best remembered which usually came earlier, which later, and which simultaneously, and who could thus best divine the future, do you think that our man would desire these rewards or envy those among the prisoners who were honored and held power? Instead, wouldn’t he feel, with Homer, that he’d vehemently [choose, ‘so that he might live on earth, to serve as the hireling of another, of some portionless man’] and go through any sufferings, rather than share their opinions and live as they do.” Homer Od. 11.488-491 ‘μὴ δή μοι θάνατόν γε παραύδα, φαίδιμ᾽ Ὀδυσσεῦ. [βουλοίμην κ᾽ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ, ἀνδρὶ παρ᾽ ἀκλήρῳ,] ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη, ἢ πᾶσιν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν.

490

[Achilles:] “Nay, seek not to speak soothingly to me of death, glorious Odysseus. [I should choose, so I might live on earth, to serve as the hireling of another, of some portionless man] whose livelihood was but small, rather than to be lord over all the dead that have perished.” Texts Plato Rep. 7.516d4-6 ἢ τὸ τοῦ Ὁμήρου ἂν πεπονθέναι καὶ σφόδρα [βούλεσθαι “ἐπάρουρον ἐόντα θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ ἀνδρὶ παρ’ ἀκλήρῳ”] d4 καὶ] καὶ in hac voce redit M βουλεύεσθαι D Homer Od. 11.489-490

5

d5 βούλεσθαι] βούλεσθαι A F M Iamblichus :

282 [βουλοίμην κ᾽ ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλλῳ, ἀνδρὶ παρ᾽ ἀκλήρῳ,] ᾧ μὴ βίοτος πολὺς εἴη,

490

Textual Differences 1) βούλεσθαι (d5) : βουλοίμην (489) [Grammatical / Syntactical Convenience] Plato’s text features the infinitive βούλεσθαι as supplement to πεπονθέναι to correspond to Homer’s optative form, βουλοίμην, of the same verb. As Socrates is not reporting Achilles’ speech directly, such a change is natural enough in the grammatical context of this citation. 2) κ᾽ (489) [Grammatical / Syntactical Convenience] As Homer’s optative βουλοίμην does not appear in Plato, Socrates dispenses with Homer’s epic particle κ᾽. 3) ἐπάρουρον (d5) : ἐπάρουρος (489) [Grammatical / Syntactical Convenience] Here, as is the case with all further discrepancies between Plato and Homer’s text below, Plato’s text differs from Homer’s only insofar as Socrates reports Achilles’ words indirectly, Homer directly. Here then, Plato’s text reads ἐπάρουρον in the accusative as the subject of indirect statement. Homer’s text reads ἐπάρουρος in the nominative as predicate with the participle ἐὼν. 4) ἐόντα (d5) : ἐὼν (489) [Grammatical / Syntactical Convenience] As noted above, the accusative form of Plato’s participle versus Homer’s nominative is the result of indirect statement in Plato. It has not been pointed out previously by commentators that Plato still chooses to employ an epic form here for the participle, rather than the Attic standard ὄντα, showing, as with his use of the epic infinitive θητευέμεν, his dedication to Homeric forms in this

283 citation. What Plato does ignore, however, is Homer’s original meter, which here falls apart due to his use of ἐόντα. Interpretation What remains to be addressed is the problem of Socrates citing a passage here at Rep. 7.516d that he himself had earlier censored at Rep. 3.386c. To begin with, I am apt to agree with Mitscherling, who is hesitant to attribute this apparent inconsistency to Plato’s “criminally faulty memory, or of equally flawed proofreading skills.”79 How must we account, then, for this odd, double citation?80 Mitscherling suggests that Plato intends “to cast some suspicion either on the consistency of Socrates’ position as a whole or on the legitimacy of the earlier criticism of poetry in particular.”81 This suggestion is certainly provocative. Indeed, it has been suggested by scholars that Socrates sometimes employs fallacious arguments in the dialogues to prove a rhetorical point. I think, however, that Plato is not just being playful or casting suspicion on the legitimacy of Socrates’ criticisms of poetry here. I think that, in addition, he is showing how poetry can be used, ought to be used, as an ally of philosophy, rather than an enemy. If harnessed in the right way – in a philosophic myth as here, for example – Plato is showing how poetry can aid the philosophic process. Achilles’ comments, if they are allowed to refer to death in a negative way as in Homer, as in Quotation 11, are damaging to the listener. Therefore, they must be censored. But if they are used, as here in Plato, in Quotation 18, to comment on the death-like state of a man living without philosophy, they are perfectly acceptable. Here their 79

Mitscherling 2008, 439. There is precedence for this practice of double citation in the Republic, as we shall examine later in Quotations 31 and 32, which both cite Od. 20.17-18 at Rep. 3.390d4-5 and 4.441b4 respectively. Here, of course, the textual distance between passages is lesser, about 50 Stephanus pages, but the precedent remains. 81 Mitscherling 2008, 439. 80

284 terror-inducing power is used for the purpose of good, rather than just shock, or entertainment. It is perhaps this very use of poetry that Socrates himself hinted at, as Andrew Laird suggests,82 when, after he first rejected Achilles’ words, he noted that such things “might be useful for some other purpose” (καὶ ἴσως εὖ ἔχει πρὸς ἄλλο τι, Rep. 3.387c3). Clay reads Socrates’ double citation similarly.83 In his “anatomy” of Platonic quotation, he categorizes this citation under those which conceal a “deeper meaning,” (ὑπόνοια, Rep. 3.378d7) a potential reading of poetry Socrates himself introduces only to reject immediately. Clay understands the idea of “deeper meanings” in terms of this particular citation as follows: Plato’s reader is encouraged to entertain this possibility [of deeper meanings] as the dialogue progresses. At first, Achilles’ grim words about the vanity of ruling as lord over the dead (Odyssey 9.489-491) are rejected as inspiring cowardice in the young guardian (Republic 3.386C). But when he has reached the philosophical heart of his argument, Socrates quotes this same passage to show how insubstantial life on this earth is; he portrays it as life in Hades … It is only once Plato has introduced the “metaphysics” of the divided line and its analogue of the image of the cave that Achilles’ words take on a deeper meaning. With his second use of this citation, then, Socrates turns Achilles, the supreme honor-lover in Homer, into a sort of philosopher,84 who no longer has an interest in the shadow-world of the honors and the prizes of the cave-dwellers. He also turns a passage that, on the surface, works against the aims of philosophy – creating a fear of death – into one in perfect agreement with

82

Laird 2003, 5. Clay 2003, 11-2. 84 Howland (1993, 150-60) argues that The Allegory of the Cave compares Socrates’ own descent into The Cave with Odysseus’ descent into the Underworld, a reading to which I am sympathetic and explore in some detail in the final chapter of this work. 83

285 philosophy.85 All that was needed was a suppression of the original poetic context to revise philosophically the words of Achilles, to bring out their “deeper,” philosophic import.

Allusion 16: Plato Rep. 3.387b9 : Homer Od. 10.514 (Cf. Aeschylus Seven Against Thebes 690; Agamemnon 1160;Bacchylides Odes 5.64; Euripides Alcestis 458; Aristophanes Frogs 472) (Cf. Plato Phaedo 113c8; 114a5)86 Allusion 17: Plato Rep. 3.387b9 : Homer Il. 8.369; 14.271; 15.37; Od. 5.185; 10.514; Hesiod Theogony 361; 383; 776; Homeric Hymn to Demeter 2.259; 423; Homeric Hymn to Apollo 3.85; Homeric Hymn to Hermes 4.519; Bacchylides Odes 11.9 (Cf. Plato Phaedo 113c1; 113c2)87 & Quotation 19: Plato Rep. 3.387c1 : Homer Il. 15.188; 20.61 (≈ Homeric Hymn to Demeter 2.357) (Cf. Hesiod Theogony 850; Aeschylus Persians 629; Prometheus Bound 572; Sophocles Electra 1391;Euripides Heracles 352; Ion 1441; Orestes 261) Interpretive Context To sum up his condemnation of Homeric verses regarding the Underworld, in false deference to the poets themselves (cf. Rep. 2.382a7 and 3.391a3-5), Socrates says: “We’ll ask Homer and the other poets not to be angry [χαλεπαίνειν, b1] if we delete [διαγράφωμεν, b1] these passages

85

Wienfield (1998, 17) argues similarly, yet perhaps more forcefully than I do here, that “Plato’s insistence … [on] accommodating [Achilles’ vision] to his own vision, testifies to a larger ambition on his part: to replace Homer and to substitute philosophy for poetry.” 86 For Greek sources that post-date Plato, see Epictetus (Disc. 3.13.15), Pausanius (Description of Greece 1.17.5), which describes the actual river Cocytus in Thesprotia, and Lycophron (Alexandra 705). 87 For Greek sources that post-date Plato, see Aristotle (Metaph. 983b), Apollodorus (1.2.2; 1.2.5; 1.3.1; 2.1.5), Callimachus (Hymn. to Zeus 1.36), Apollonius of Rhodes (2.191); Pausanius (8.18.1; 8.18.2), Ps.-Apollodorus (Bibliotheca 1.8; 1.9), and Lycophron (Alexandra 706). There are also numerous references to the Arcadian River Styx, among them in Homer (Il. 2.755), Herodotus (Histories 6.74.1), Strabo (Geography 8.8.4), Pausanius (Description of Greece 8.17.6-8; 8.19.3), Aelian (On Animals 10.40), and Strabo (Geography 14.2.7).

286 and all similar ones.” While Socrates admits that such passages are “poetic and pleasing” (ποιητικὰ καὶ ἡδέα, Rep. 3.387b3; cf. Theaetetus 177c: οὐκ ἀηδέστερα ἀκούειν), the danger of writing to Socrates is directly proportional to its poetic quality: “the more poetic they are, the less they should be heard by children or by men who are supposed to be free and to fear slavery more than death.” Such poetic writing, then, as Socrates described at the beginning of this episode, wrecks havoc on the order of the soul; it makes for “a cowardly warrior” (cf. Quotation 2: Plato Rep. 3.411b4 : Homer Il. 17.588). Here, however, Socrates chooses a metallurgical metaphor, saying that such writing makes the guardians “softer and more malleable” (θερμότεροι καὶ μαλακώτεροι, c5). As always, it is important to consider the limited way in which Plato’s Socrates is assessing the value of poetry, that is, primarily in terms of its efficacy as an educational tool. As he says below, such poetic passages “may be all well and good for other purposes” (c3) just not for his purpose, a vital one at that as Socrates’ position is that poetry plays a decisive role in (dis)ordering societal and individual harmony. Socrates’ final candidates for condemnation regarding poetry on the Underworld, then, include the mention of the names of two of the Underworld’s rivers, the Cocytus and Styx, and the use of the words “those below” (ἐνέρους, c1) and “the withered ones” (ἀλίβαντας, c1) to describe the dead, the latter of which is not found anywhere in Homer. Part of the irony of the passage is that Plato himself mentions both rivers in his account of the Underworld in the Phaedo. The implications of Plato’s use of these mythic paradigms in his own writing will be explored briefly below in the Interpretation section.

287 In Homer, the rivers Cocytus and Styx are mentioned with some frequency,88 the Styx particularly in reference to its role in oath-swearing89 – the same is the case in the various crossreferences noted above in the tragic, lyric, and comic poets. Hesiod Theogony 767 ff., reproduced below under Original Context, contains the most comprehensive treatment in Greek literature of the Styx’s role in oath-swearing. Both rivers are mentioned in Book 10 of the Odyssey as part of the instructions Circe gives to Odysseus to reach the Underworld. In Homer, the phrase “those below” (ἐνέρους) occurs two times only, in each case – as is typical of the phrase – in reference specifically to the god Hades. In Book 15 of the Iliad, Poseidon explains to Iris that the world is divided between Zeus, Hades, and himself. In Book 20 of the Iliad – in a passage already cited in Allusion 13, Hades, Lord of “those below,” fears that the strife of the gods may tear the very earth apart, revealing to all his hateful realm.90 In general, the vast majority of occurrences of forms of the word ἔνεροι occurs in the context of epithets referring to Hades, as in both Homeric passages above. Notable exceptions, where the word refers to the dead alone, occur in Aeschylus (Prometheus Bound 572), Sophocles (Electra 1391), and Euripides (Orestes 261, Ion 1441, and Heracles 352). There are a few exceptions where the word is used in literal fashion to refer to “those below,” e. g. at Od. 9.380. On one

88

Homer also uses the noun from which the name of the Cocytus derives; he uses Κωκυτῷ and Κωκυτοῦ at Il. 22.409 and 447 respectively. 89 The exceptions to this rule in the Iliad include Il. 2.755, where the Arcadian River Styx is mentioned as part of a geographical reference in the Catalogue of Ships, and Il. 8.369, where Athene describes the physical features of the Underworld in reference to the aid she gave to Heracles in his journey there. At Od. 10.514, the river is mentioned in Homer’s description of the layout of rivers in the Underworld. In Hesiod’s Theogony 361 and 383, the parentage and offspring of Styx are noted. All of the above references to the Homeric Hymns include mention of the Styx’s role in the swearing of oaths. 90 See also the dubious reference to Il. 20.4-75 at Disputed Citation 3.

288 occasion the word refers to the Titans at Il. 15.225; in Euripides (Alcestis 30) it refers generally to the deities of the Underworld. The word ἀλίβαντας, which I have translated below as “withered ones,” is another word for the dead that Socrates censors, which does not appear in Homer, Hesiod, or Greek poetry in general. Thus, it is unclear to what poets Socrates is referring by censoring the use of such a word. The word itself is likely related in some way to the verb λείβω “to pour (a libation),” thus referring to those in the Underworld who have not received or no longer receive libations on their behalf. These libations could be in the form of such liquids as wine or, as I suspect in addition, tears.91 Plutarch at Moralia 736a suggests such an etymology, as does Cornutus, by essentially replicating the opinion of the scholiast on the word’s relationship to libations.92 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.387b8-c5 Οὐκοῦν ἔτι καὶ τὰ περὶ ταῦτα ὀνόματα πάντα τὰ δεινά τε καὶ φοβερὰ ἀποβλητέα, [(16) Κωκυτούς] τε καὶ [(17) Στύγας] καὶ [(19) ἐνέρους] καὶ ἀλίβαντας, καὶ ἄλλα ὅσα τούτου τοῦ τύπου ὀνομαζόμενα φρίττειν δὴ ποιεῖ ὡς ‘οἴεται†’ πάντας τοὺς ἀκούοντας. καὶ ἴσως εὖ ἔχει πρὸς ἄλλο τι· ἡμεῖς δὲ ὑπὲρ τῶν φυλάκων φοβούμεθα μὴ ἐκ τῆς τοιαύτης φρίκης θερμότεροι καὶ μαλακώτεροι τοῦ δέοντος γένωνται ἡμῖν. 5

c

[Socrates to Adeimantus:] And the dreadful [δεινά, b8] and frightening [φοβερὰ, b9] names for the underworld must be struck out, for example, [(16) “Cocytus”] and [(17) “Styx,”] and also the names for the dead, for example, [(19) “those below”] and the “withered ones,” and all the names of things in the underworld that make everyone who hears them shudder. They may be all well and good for other purposes, but we are afraid that our guardians will be made

91

See, e.g., the use of the common Homeric phrase δάκρυα λείβων, at Il. 13.658, et al. For additional assessment of such etymologies, see Chantraine (2000); against this opinion, see Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.), who suggests that perhaps the word is related to ἠλίβατος. 92

289 warmer and more malleable [θερμότεροι καὶ μαλακώτεροι, c5] by such shudders [φρίκης, c4].93 Allusions 16-17 Homer Od. 10.508-521 ἀλλ᾽ ὁπότ᾽ ἂν δὴ νηὶ δι᾽ Ὠκεανοῖο περήσῃς, ἔνθ᾽ ἀκτή τε λάχεια καὶ ἄλσεα Περσεφονείης, μακραί τ᾽ αἴγειροι καὶ ἰτέαι ὠλεσίκαρποι, 510 νῆα μὲν αὐτοῦ κέλσαι ἐπ᾽ Ὠκεανῷ βαθυδίνῃ, αὐτὸς δ᾽ εἰς Ἀίδεω ἰέναι δόμον εὐρώεντα. ἔνθα μὲν εἰς Ἀχέροντα Πυριφλεγέθων τε ῥέουσιν [(16) Κώκυτός] θ᾽, ὃς δὴ [(17) Στυγὸς] ὕδατός ἐστιν ἀπορρώξ, πέτρη τε ξύνεσίς τε δύω ποταμῶν ἐριδούπων· 515 ἔνθα δ᾽ ἔπειθ᾽, ἥρως, χριμφθεὶς πέλας, ὥς σε κελεύω, βόθρον ὀρύξαι, ὅσον τε πυγούσιον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα, ἀμφ᾽ αὐτῷ δὲ χοὴν χεῖσθαι πᾶσιν νεκύεσσιν, πρῶτα μελικρήτῳ, μετέπειτα δὲ ἡδέι οἴνῳ, 520 τὸ τρίτον αὖθ᾽ ὕδατι· ἐπὶ δ᾽ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ παλύνειν. πολλὰ δὲ γουνοῦσθαι νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα, [Circe to Odysseus:] “But when in your ship you have now crossed the stream of Oceanus, where is a level shore and the groves of Persephone— tall poplars, and willows that shed their fruit—there beach your ship by the deep eddying Oceanus, but go yourself to the dank house of Hades. There into Acheron flow Periphlegethon and [(16) Cocytus,] which is a branch of the water of the [(17)Styx;] and there is a rock, and the meeting place of the two roaring rivers. Thither, prince, draw near, as I bid you, and dig a pit of a cubit’s length this way and that, and around it pour a libation to all the dead, first with milk and honey, thereafter with sweet wine, and in the third place with water, and sprinkle thereon white barley meal. And earnestly entreat the powerless heads of the dead ...” Plato Phaedo 113b6-d4, 113e6-114b5 ... τούτου δὲ αὖ καταντικρὺ ὁ τέταρτος ἐκπίπτει εἰς τόπον πρῶτον δεινόν τε καὶ ἄγριον, ὡς λέγεται, χρῶμα δ᾽ ἔχοντα ὅλον οἷον ὁ κυανός, ὃν δὴ ἐπονομάζουσι [(17) Στύγιον,] καὶ τὴν λίμνην ἣν ποιεῖ ὁ ποταμὸς ἐμβάλλων, [(17) Στύγα·] ὁ δ᾽ ἐμπεσὼν ἐνταῦθα καὶ δεινὰς δυνάμεις λαβὼν ἐν τῷ ὕδατι, δὺς κατὰ τῆς γῆς, περιελιττόμενος χωρεῖ ἐναντίος τῷ Πυριφλεγέθοντι καὶ 93

c

Shorey ([1969] 1982, ad loc.) notes, “φρίττειν and φρίκη are often used of the thrill or terror of tragedy.” In support of this observation, see Sophocles (Electra 1402; Oedipus Rex 1306) and Aeschylus (Prometheus Bound 540).

290 ἀπαντᾷ ἐν τῇ Ἀχερουσιάδι λίμνῃ ἐξ ἐναντίας· καὶ οὐδὲ τὸ 5 τούτου ὕδωρ οὐδενὶ μείγνυται, ἀλλὰ καὶ οὗτος κύκλῳ περιελθὼν ἐμβάλλει εἰς τὸν Τάρταρον ἐναντίος τῷ Πυριφλεγέθοντι· ὄνομα δὲ τούτῳ ἐστίν, ὡς οἱ ποιηταὶ λέγουσιν, [(16) Κωκυτός.] τούτων δὲ οὕτως πεφυκότων, ἐπειδὰν ἀφίκωνται οἱ d τετελευτηκότες εἰς τὸν τόπον οἷ ὁ δαίμων ἕκαστον κομίζει, πρῶτον μὲν διεδικάσαντο οἵ τε καλῶς καὶ ὁσίως βιώσαντες καὶ οἱ μή ... ... ... οἳ δ᾽ ἂν ἰάσιμα μὲν μεγάλα δὲ δόξωσιν ἡμαρτηκέναι ἁμαρτήματα, οἷον πρὸς πατέρα ἢ μητέρα ὑπ᾽ ὀργῆς βίαιόν τι πράξαντες, καὶ μεταμέλον αὐτοῖς 114 τὸν ἄλλον βίον βιῶσιν, ἢ ἀνδροφόνοι τοιούτῳ τινὶ ἄλλῳ τρόπῳ γένωνται, τούτους δὲ ἐμπεσεῖν μὲν εἰς τὸν Τάρταρον ἀνάγκη, ἐμπεσόντας δὲ αὐτοὺς καὶ ἐνιαυτὸν ἐκεῖ γενομένους ἐκβάλλει τὸ κῦμα, τοὺς μὲν ἀνδροφόνους κατὰ τὸν [(16) Κωκυτόν,] 5 τοὺς δὲ πατραλοίας καὶ μητραλοίας κατὰ τὸν Πυριφλεγέθοντα· ἐπειδὰν δὲ φερόμενοι γένωνται κατὰ τὴν λίμνην τὴν Ἀχερουσιάδα, ἐνταῦθα βοῶσί τε καὶ καλοῦσιν, οἱ μὲν οὓς ἀπέκτειναν, οἱ δὲ οὓς ὕβρισαν, καλέσαντες δ᾽ ἱκετεύουσι καὶ δέονται ἐᾶσαι σφᾶς ἐκβῆναι εἰς τὴν λίμνην καὶ δέξασθαι, b καὶ ἐὰν μὲν πείσωσιν, ἐκβαίνουσί τε καὶ λήγουσι τῶν κακῶν, εἰ δὲ μή, φέρονται αὖθις εἰς τὸν Τάρταρον καὶ ἐκεῖθεν πάλιν εἰς τοὺς ποταμούς, καὶ ταῦτα πάσχοντες οὐ πρότερον παύονται πρὶν ἂν πείσωσιν οὓς ἠδίκησαν ... 5 “Opposite this the fourth river issues, it is said, first into a wild and awful place [δεινόν τε καὶ ἄγριον, b7-8], which is all of a dark blue color, like lapis lazuli. This is called the [(17) Stygian] river, and the lake which it forms by flowing in is the [(17) Styx.] And when the river has flowed in here and has received fearful [δεινὰς, c3] powers into its waters, it passes under the earth and, circling round in the direction opposed to that of Periphlegethon, it meets it coming from the other way in the Acherusian lake. And the water of this river also mingles with no other water, but this also passes round in a circle and falls into Tartarus opposite Periphlegethon. And the name of this river, as the Poets say, is [(16) Cocytus.] Such is the nature of these things. Now when the dead have come to the place where each is led by his genius, first they are judged and sentenced, as they have lived well and piously, or not ... Those, however, who are curable, but are found to have committed great sins—who have, for example, in a moment of passion done some act of violence against father or mother and have lived in repentance the rest of their lives, or who have slain some other person under similar conditions—these must needs be thrown into Tartarus, and when they have been there a year the wave casts them out, the homicides by way of [(16) Cocytus,] those who have outraged their parents by way of Periphlegethon. And when they have been brought by the current to the Acherusian lake, they shout and cry out, calling to those whom they have slain or outraged, begging and beseeching them to be gracious and to let them come out into the lake; and if they prevail they come out and cease from their ills, but if not, they are borne away again to Tartarus

291 and thence back into the rivers, and this goes on until they prevail upon those whom they have wronged.” Allusion 17 Homer Il. 14.271 ἄγρει νῦν μοι ὄμοσσον ἀάατον [Στυγὸς] ὕδωρ, [Sleep to Hera:] “Come now, swear to me by the inviolable water of [Styx] ...” Hesiod Th. 767-769, 775-806 ἔνθα θεοῦ χθονίου πρόσθεν δόμοι ἠχήεντες ἰφθίμου τ᾽ Ἀίδεω καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης ἑστᾶσιν ... ... ἔνθα δὲ ναιετάει στυγερὴ θεὸς ἀθανάτοισι, δεινὴ [Στύξ,] θυγάτηρ ἀψορρόου Ὠκεανοῖο πρεσβυτάτη· νόσφιν δὲ θεῶν κλυτὰ δώματα ναίει μακρῇσιν πέτρῃσι κατηρεφέ᾽· ἀμφὶ δὲ πάντη κίοσιν ἀργυρέοισι πρὸς οὐρανὸν ἐστήρικται. παῦρα δὲ Θαύμαντος θυγάτηρ πόδας ὠκέα Ἶρις ἀγγελίην πωλεῖται ἐπ᾽ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης. ὁππότ᾽ ἔρις καὶ νεῖκος ἐν ἀθανάτοισιν ὄρηται καί ῥ᾽ ὅστις ψεύδηται Ὀλύμπια δώματ᾽ ἐχόντων, Ζεὺς δέ τε Ἶριν ἔπεμψε θεῶν μέγαν ὅρκον ἐνεῖκαι τηλόθεν ἐν χρυσέῃ προχόῳ πολυώνυμον ὕδωρ ψυχρόν, ὅτ᾽ ἐκ πέτρης καταλείβεται ἠλιβάτοιο ὑψηλῆς· πολλὸν δὲ ὑπὸ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης ἐξ ἱεροῦ ποταμοῖο ῥέει διὰ νύκτα μέλαιναν Ὠκεανοῖο κέρας· δεκάτη δ᾽ ἐπὶ μοῖρα δέδασται· ἐννέα μὲν περὶ γῆν τε καὶ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης δίνῃς ἀργυρέῃς εἱλιγμένος εἰς ἅλα πίπτει, ἣ δὲ μί᾽ ἐκ πέτρης προρέει μέγα πῆμα θεοῖσιν. ὅς κεν τὴν ἐπίορκον ἀπολλείψας ἐπομόσσῃ ἀθανάτων, οἳ ἔχουσι κάρη νιφόεντος Ὀλύμπου, κεῖται νήυτμος τετελεσμένον εἰς ἐνιαυτόν· οὐδέ ποτ᾽ ἀμβροσίης καὶ νέκταρος ἔρχεται ἆσσον βρώσιος, ἀλλά τε κεῖται ἀνάπνευστος καὶ ἄναυδος στρωτοῖς ἐν λεχέεσσι, κακὸν δέ ἑ κῶμα καλύπτει. αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ νοῦσον τελέσῃ μέγαν εἰς ἐνιαυτόν, ἄλλος γ᾽ ἐξ ἄλλου δέχεται χαλεπώτερος ἄεθλος. εἰνάετες δὲ θεῶν ἀπαμείρεται αἰὲν ἐόντων,

775

780

785

790

795

800

292 οὐδέ ποτ᾽ ἐς βουλὴν ἐπιμίσγεται οὐδ᾽ ἐπὶ δαῖτας ἐννέα πάντα ἔτεα· δεκάτῳ δ᾽ ἐπιμίσγεται αὖτις εἴρας ἐς ἀθανάτων, οἳ Ὀλύμπια δώματ᾽ ἔχουσιν. τοῖον ἄρ᾽ ὅρκον ἔθεντο θεοὶ [Στυγὸς] ἄφθιτον ὕδωρ ὠγύγιον, τὸ δ᾽ ἵησι καταστυφέλου διὰ χώρου.

805

There, in front, stand the echoing halls of the god of the lower-world, strong Hades, and of awful Persephone ... And there dwells the goddess loathed by the deathless gods, terrible [Styx,] eldest daughter of back-flowing Ocean. She lives apart from the gods in her glorious house vaulted over with great rocks and propped up to heaven all round with silver pillars. Rarely does the daughter of Thaumas, swift-footed Iris, come to her with a message over the sea’s wide back. But when strife and quarrel [ἔρις καὶ νεῖκος, 782] arise among the deathless gods, and when any one of them who live in the house of Olympus lies, then Zeus sends Iris to bring in a golden jug the great oath of the gods from far away, the famous cold water which trickles down from a high and beetling rock. Far under the wide-pathed earth a branch of Oceanus flows through the dark night out of the holy stream, and a tenth part of his water is allotted to her. With nine silverswirling streams he winds about the earth and the sea’s wide back, and then falls into the main; but the tenth flows out from a rock, a sore trouble to the gods. For whoever of the deathless gods that hold the peaks of snowy Olympus pours a libation of her water and is forsworn, must lie breathless until a full year is completed, and never come near to taste ambrosia and nectar, but lie spiritless and voiceless [ἀνάπνευστος καὶ ἄναυδος, 797] on a strewn bed: and a heavy trance overshadows him. But when he has spent a long year in his sickness, another penance more hard follows after the first. For nine years he is cut off from the eternal gods and never joins their councils or their feasts, nine full years. But in the tenth year he comes again to join the assemblies of the deathless gods who live in the house of Olympus. Such an oath, then, did the gods appoint the eternal and primeval water of [Styx] to be: and it spouts through a rugged place. Quotation 19 Homer Il. 15.187-192 τρεῖς γάρ τ᾽ ἐκ Κρόνου εἰμὲν ἀδελφεοὶ οὓς τέκετο Ῥέα Ζεὺς καὶ ἐγώ, τρίτατος δ᾽ Ἀΐδης [ἐνέροισιν] ἀνάσσων. τριχθὰ δὲ πάντα δέδασται, ἕκαστος δ᾽ ἔμμορε τιμῆς· ἤτοι ἐγὼν ἔλαχον πολιὴν ἅλα ναιέμεν αἰεὶ παλλομένων, Ἀΐδης δ᾽ ἔλαχε ζόφον ἠερόεντα, Ζεὺς δ᾽ ἔλαχ᾽ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἐν αἰθέρι καὶ νεφέλῃσι·

190

[Poseidon to Iris:] “For three brethren are we, begotten of Cronos, and born of Rhea,—Zeus, and myself, and the third is Hades, who is lord for [those below.] And in three-fold wise are all things divided, and unto each has been apportioned his own domain. I verily, when the lots were shaken, won for my portion the grey sea to be my habitation forever, and Hades won the murky darkness, while Zeus won the broad heaven amid the air and the clouds.”

293 Homer Il. 20.54-58, 61-65 ὣς τοὺς ἀμφοτέρους μάκαρες θεοὶ ὀτρύνοντες σύμβαλον, ἐν δ᾽ αὐτοῖς ἔριδα ῥήγνυντο βαρεῖαν· δεινὸν δὲ βρόντησε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε ὑψόθεν· αὐτὰρ νέρθε Ποσειδάων ἐτίναξε γαῖαν ἀπειρεσίην ὀρέων τ᾽ αἰπεινὰ κάρηνα. ... ἔδεισεν δ᾽ ὑπένερθεν ἄναξ [ἐνέρων] Ἀϊδωνεύς, δείσας δ᾽ ἐκ θρόνου ἆλτο καὶ ἴαχε, μή οἱ ὕπερθε γαῖαν ἀναρρήξειε Ποσειδάων ἐνοσίχθων, οἰκία δὲ θνητοῖσι καὶ ἀθανάτοισι φανείη σμερδαλέ᾽ εὐρώεντα, τά τε στυγέουσι θεοί περ·

55

65

Thus did the blessed gods urge on the two hosts to clash in battle, and amid them made grievous strife to burst forth. Then terribly thundered the father of gods and men from on high; and from beneath did Poseidon cause the vast earth to quake, and the steep crests of the mountains ... And seized with fear was the lord of [those below], Aidoneus, who leapt forth from his throne and cried aloud, lest above him the earth be cloven by Poseidon, the Shaker of Earth, and his abode be made plain to view for mortals and immortals - the dread and dank abode, wherefore the very gods have loathing: so great was the din that arose when the gods clashed in strife. Textual Difference 1) ἐνέρους (c1) : ἐνέροισιν (188); ἐνέρων (61) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Plato happens to reproduce the word ἐνέρους in a form, the accusative plural, that is unattested in Greek literature. There is likely no other significance to this, however, than that the accusative form fits naturally with the syntax of Plato’s own sentence.94 Interpretation Like many of the references to poetic words and phrases in Plato,95 the above citations do not recall specific Homeric phrasing. The names for the dead and the rivers of the Underworld may

94

The word, when referring to the dead, appears in either the genitive plural (cf. Il. 20.61; Aesch. Persians 629; Prometheus Bound 572; Sophocles Electra 1391; Euripides Orestes 261; Ion 1441; Heracles 352; Hom. Hymn to Demeter 2.357) or the dative plural (cf. Il. 15.188; Hesiod Th. 850; Ap. Rhod. Arg. 862).

294 find their origin in Homer by default, but they are more broadly part of the Greek poetic tradition as a whole and thus part of Socrates’ overall attack on poetry. At any rate, Socrates justifies the exclusion of such words as “dreadful” (δεινά, Rep. 3.387b8) and “frightening” (φοβερὰ, Rep. 3.387b9) by arguing that they will inhibit the courage of the guardians by making their souls “warmer and more malleable” (θερμότεροι καὶ μαλακώτεροι, Rep. 3.387c5). While Styx and Cocytus are fearful names given their etymologies,96 it is unclear – as in the citations immediately above – in what way such expressions as “those below” and the “withered ones” are overtly fearful, except in a philosophic sense, namely the idea that the soul finds itself in an inferior position in death. In describing the effect that such names have on the listener, Socrates foreshadows the metallurgic imagery he will use later in Republic 3,97 where he describes how a “cowardly warrior” (μαλθακὸν αἰχμητήν, Rep. 3.411b4) arises, that is to say one who lacks courage due to devoting himself too much to music’s “charms”: Therefore, when someone gives music an opportunity to charm his soul with the flute and to pour those sweet, soft [μαλακὰς, a7], and plaintive tunes we mentioned through his ear, as through a funnel, when he spends his whole life humming them and delighting in them, at first, whatever spirit [θυμοειδὲς, a10] he has is softened [ἐμάλαξεν, a10], just as iron is tempered, and from being hard [σκληροῦ, b1] and useless [ἀχρήστου, b1], it is made useful [χρήσιμον, a10]. But if he keeps at it unrelentingly and is beguiled [κηλῇ, b2] by the music, after a time his spirit [θυμὸν, b3] is melted and dissolved until it vanishes, and the very sinews of his soul [ψυχῆς, b3] are cut out and he becomes [‘a cowardly warrior.’].” The excessive emotions inspired by music, according to the argument of the Republic, can have a “softening” effect on the warrior’s θυμός, similar to that caused by terrible and fearful poetic stories about the Underworld. In is no surprise, then, that in the following series of citations, 95

See, e.g., Allusions 6-9 contained in Plato Rep. 3.391b7-c6. Styx is related to the idea of “hate” and Cocytus “wailing” or “lamentation.” 97 See Quotation 2 for a similar use of this sort of imagery. 96

295 Socrates will attack poetic stories that depict excessive emotion in general, beginning with those that show great men and gods experiencing excessive sorrow and concluding with those depicting them laughing excessively. The full-range of such emotional outbursts, it seems, can have nothing but a damaging effect on the harmonious constitution of the human soul (and thus by extension the state). Perhaps the oddest feature of Socrates’ censorship of the mention of the rivers Cocytus and Styx is that he himself describes these same rivers in his own myth of the Underworld in the Phaedo (as reproduced above in Original Context). Despite the fact that Plato’s own use of these rivers in his myth may seem somehow inconsistent with his opinion above, even overtly hypocritical, we need only to take into consideration both Plato’s view of the utility of myth and the respective contexts of both Platonic passages. Now, Plato’s own reputation as a mythmaker is well-established.98 We have seen already how he uses the language of myth in a philosophically revised manner. The same is true of the myths themselves. He adopts a familiar, traditional mythic framework in many of his myths, but uses the myth in new ways, in ways that support philosophic ideals and values.99 Indeed, this is perhaps the key to understanding what

98

On this topic, see Segal (1978) and Brisson (1998; 2004); see Griffith (1990), Lincoln (1999), and Edmonds (2004, esp. 167, 170) for a discussion of Plato’s manipulation of the authority of mythic discourse; on the Phaedo myth in particular, see esp. Annas (1982, 119 ff.). 99 On this point, see Segal (1978) and esp. Edmonds (2004, 170-1): Plato also uses myth, even citing other poets’ versions in support of his own, because mythic discourse is one of the primary forms of authoritative discourse in Plato’s society ... [yet Plato restricts] the interpretation of [myth] by placing it within a philosophic discourse, he also designs the myth [i.e. the Phaedo’s Underworld myth] to convey the superiority of philosophy ... Plato uses the myth to mark the life of the philosopher as the best life, invoking the authority of the mythic to support his claim.

296 Socrates means which he says the mention of fearful underworld names “may be well and good for other purposes” (Rep. 3.387c3).100 As used in Plato, the rivers are no longer fear-inspiring names. In fact, he transmutes the etymology of the Cocytus. The “wailing” associated with the Cocytus in the Phaedo is not representative of those who mourn the cruel fate of lost loved ones; it is transferred to the wrongdoers themselves. It is important to note, of course, that the fates of the dead in the Phaedo myth are sharply differentiated in terms of virtue. Those who are good are rewarded and the evil punished. In Homer, however, there is eternal torment for the truly evil and an insubstantial, soul-less existence for the rest (with the possible exception of those who inhabit the Isle of the Blessed). So the “other purposes” Socrates alludes to in the passage could be that of a productive sort of fear: to frighten people by means of a noble lie to be just in life or else pay the penalty in the afterlife. This sort of (righteous) fear – and note Plato’s use of δεινός in his account of the Underworld –101 is productive of virtue, rather than detrimental, as in the poets. To Plato, the poetic accounts are too pleasing, and thus too seductive, to be allowed to be a part of the education of the guardian class.102

100

“Another purpose” Shorey ([1969] 1982, ad loc.) suggests is that of the aesthetic. See δεινόν (Phaedo 113b7) and δεινὰς (Phaedo 113c3). 102 On the direct correlation between the pleasure of poetry and its danger, see Rep. 3.397d6 and 10.601b1. This is in stark contrast to the poets’ own assessment of the value of the pleasure of their craft (Od. 1.347; 368-71; 422 (cf. Quotation 1); 8.45; 91; 368; 12.188; 17.385; 606; 18.305; Hes. Th. 37; 40; 51). See P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 158) for modern bibliography on this subject. 101

297 2. Emotional Moderation: Grief ἀλλ᾽ ὀλοῷ Ἀχιλῆϊ θεοὶ βούλεσθ᾽ ἐπαρήγειν, ᾧ οὔτ᾽ ἂρ φρένες εἰσὶν ἐναίσιμοι. (Homer Iliad 24.39-40) Your desire is to help this cursed Achilles within whose breast there are no feelings of justice.103

The first aspect of moderation we shall explore is that of emotional moderation, the control of such things as excessive grief and laughter through the proper ordering of the rational and emotional elements of the soul. Psychic moderation will also address issues of obedience in general, respecting the authority of one’s reason or one’s superior, and restraining one’s love of money. Following emotional moderation, we shall explore appetitive moderation, which involves the proper ordering of the rational and appetitive elements of the soul. Here we shall explore such topics as the moderation of sex, food, drink, and even general bodily health in terms of the use of medicine. The first aspect of emotional moderation we shall explore, then, is grief. Here Socrates’ treatment of grief serves as a natural bridge between the virtues of courage and moderation, showing how the two virtues are interrelated. For not only must stories about an Underworld “full of terrors” (Rep. 3.386b4) be censored in order to cultivate the virtue of courage, but also “lamentations and pitiful speeches” (τοὺς ὀδυρμοὺς … καὶ τοὺς οἴκτους, Rep. 3.387d1) about death uttered by famous men (τῶν ἐλλογίμων ἀνδρῶν, Rep. 3.387d2). Such men have to model the virtue of moderation by keeping their emotions in check via reason. Socrates’ reasons

103

The translation is that of Lattimore (1951).

298 for the censorship of lamentations and pitiful speeches is two-fold, with both reasons predicated on the idea that such speeches inspire a fear of death and thus weaken ἀνδρεία: “a decent man doesn’t think that death is a terrible thing [δεινόν, d6] for someone decent to suffer” (Rep. 3.387d5-6); a decent man is “most self-sufficient in living well” and thus is least negatively affected by the loss of a loved one (Rep. 3.387d11-e2). Thus, in the section to follow (Quotations 20-26), Socrates will cite for censorship the excessive grief of famous men and gods, among them Achilles, Priam, Thetis, and Zeus. These citations, as Lohse has pointed out,104 vary in length, with the shortest citations in the middle and the longest ones acting as bookends. In this way, the citations are arranged carefully both in content and structure not unlike Quotations 11-17 above. Following Socrates’ attack on Homer’s depiction of extreme grief, he will treat its opposite, extreme laughter.

Quotation 20: Plato Rep. 3.388a7-b1 : Homer Il. 24.10-12 (Cf. Homer Od. 8.49) Interpretive Context In Homer, the Greek heroes have finished their feast and are preparing to sleep following the celebration of funeral games in honor of the fallen Patroclus.105 Achilles, however, cannot sleep

104

Lohse 1965, 283. The insomnia resulting from Achilles’ intense emotional response in this passage became nearly proverbial in later Roman letters. See. Juvenal 3.279-80: noctem patitur lugentis amicum / Pelidae, cubat in faciem, mox deinde supinus. See also Catullus (50.10-5), Ovid (Am. 1.2.1-4), Propertius (1.14.21), Valerius Flaccus (7.21), Juvenal (3.218), and Seneca (De tranquilitate animi 2.6; 2.12). 105

299 and has eaten nothing. He is still too overcome by grief and weeps uncontrollably as he wanders along the seashore.106 The passage in Homer possesses some stylistic anomalies, which will be discussed below. I will explore the idea that Plato’s criticism of this passage is carried out on multiple levels, aimed, on the one hand, at the depiction of excessive pathos in Homer, and on the other, at Homer’s style more generally, an aspect of Plato’s criticism of Homer that will be explored in detail in chapter 4 of this work. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.388a5-b1 Πάλιν δὴ Ὁμήρου τε δεησόμεθα καὶ τῶν ἄλλων ποιητῶν μὴ ποιεῖν Ἀχιλλέα θεᾶς παῖδα--107 [ἄλλοτ’ ἐπὶ πλευρᾶς κατακείμενον, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ὕπτιον, ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνῆ, τοτὲ δ’ ὀρθὸν ἀναστάντα πλωί̈ζοντ’ ἀλύοντ’ ἐπὶ θῖν’ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο]

5

b

[Socrates to Adeimantus:] “Again, then, we’ll ask Homer and the other poets not to represent Achilles, the son of a goddess, as [lying now upon his side, now upon his back, and now upon his face; and then again he would rise upon his feet and drifting distraught along the shore of the waste unharvested sea.] Homer Il. 24.3-12 … αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς κλαῖε φίλου ἑτάρου μεμνημένος, οὐδέ μιν ὕπνος ᾕρει πανδαμάτωρ, ἀλλ’ ἐστρέφετ’ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα Πατρόκλου ποθέων ἀνδροτῆτά τε καὶ μένος ἠύ̈, 106

5

Aristophanes athetizes Il. 24.6-9 immediately preceding those lines which Plato quotes (i.e. 10-12). Aristophanes’ reason for the exclusion of Il. 24.6-9 is that they weaken the dramatic effect of the episode as a whole. Aristarchus happens to follows suit in condemning these same lines. It is very much in accord with Aristarchus’ editorial practice, however, as we have seen elsewhere, to object to the very same passages with which Plato finds fault. 107 The phrase θεᾶς παῖδα “son of a goddess” makes up the second part of Allusion 6 above.

300 ἠδ’ ὁπόσα τολύπευσε σὺν αὐτῷ καὶ πάθεν ἄλγεα ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων· τῶν μιμνησκόμενος θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυον εἶβεν, [ἄλλοτ’ ἐπὶ πλευρὰς κατακείμενος, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ὕπτιος, ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνής· τοτὲ δ’ ὀρθὸς ἀναστὰς δινεύεσκ’ ἀλύων παρὰ θῖν’ ἁλός·] οὐδέ μιν ἠὼς φαινομένη λήθεσκεν ὑπεὶρ ἅλα τ᾽ ἠϊόνας τε.

10

But Achilles wept, having remembered his dear comrade, neither might sleep, that masters all, lay hold of him, but he turned himself ever to this side or to that, yearning for the courage and goodly might of Patroclus, thinking on all he had wrought with him and all the woes he had borne, passing though wars of men and the grievous waves. Thinking thereon he would shed big tears, [lying now upon his side, now upon his back, and now upon his face; and then again he would rise upon his feet and roam distraught along the shore of the sea.] Neither would he fail to mark the Dawn, as she shone over the sea and the sea-beaches. Texts Plato Rep. 3.388a6-b1 μὴ ποιεῖν Ἀχιλλέα θεᾶς παῖδα-[ἄλλοτ’ ἐπὶ πλευρᾶς κατακείμενον, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ὕπτιον, ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνῆ, τοτὲ δ’ ὀρθὸν ἀναστάντα πλωί̈ζοντ’ ἀλύοντ’ ἐπὶ θῖν’ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο]

b

a7 πλευρᾶς] πλευρὰς Eusebius a9 πλωί̈ζοντ’]108 πλωί̈ζοντ’ A : πλώζοντ’ D : πλώζοντα M : πλάζοντ’ F : πρωί̈ζοντα Heyne : πρῲ, ἰόντ’ Ast : ἀφλοίζοντ’ Adam ἐπὶ] παρὰ Homerus Homer Il. 24.10-12 [ἄλλοτ’ ἐπὶ πλευρὰς κατακείμενος, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ὕπτιος, ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνής· τοτὲ δ’ ὀρθὸς ἀναστὰς δινεύεσκ’ ἀλύων παρὰ θῖν’ ἁλός·] οὐδέ μιν ἠὼς

108

10

This is nearly the unanimous reading in modern editions of the Republic, including those of Schneider (1830-3), Hermann (1852), Stallbaum (1859), Jowett & Campbell (1894), Burnett ([1905] 1958), and Slings (2003). The proposed emendations of Heyne and Ast – to be discussed below – have earned some admirers, but not to the point of adopting said emendations.

301 Textual Differences 1) πλευρᾶς (a7) : πλευρὰς (10) [Arbitrary Modern Editorial Decision] The textual discrepancy here is inconsequential as it depends upon an accentual difference between texts that would not have existed in Plato’s day. Furthermore, the genitive and accusative forms as above are identical in quantity. 2) κατακείμενον (a7) : κατακείμενος (10) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] As is the case here and below in numbers 3-6, and 8, the difference between the texts of Homer and Plato results from the fact that in Plato the quotation is put into indirect discourse, dependent upon ποιεῖν (a6). Accordingly, those forms that are nominatives in Homer become accusatives in Plato. This change happens to have no effect on the meter of the quoted text. 3-5) ὕπτιον (a8) : ὕπτιος (11); πρηνῆ (a8) : πρηνής (11); ὀρθὸν (a9) : ὀρθὸς (11) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] See number 2 above. 6) ἀναστάντα (a9) : ἀναστὰς (11) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] As is the case in numbers 2-5 above, the change in case from Homer’s nominative to the accusative in Plato is the result of Plato’s use of indirect discourse. This change is somewhat more complicated than those above as the extra syllable in Plato’s ἀναστάντα disrupts the rhythm of the hexameter. The addition of a syllable has caused all manner of textual problems, especially in the form of creative editorial conjecture, all of which will be discussed in detail below. To begin with, however, the addition of this one syllable has caused modern editors of Plato’s text to break off the indention of the citation at the caesura following πρηνῆ in line a8, as Slings does below:

302 μὴ ποιεῖν Ἀχιλλέα θεᾶς παῖδα-ἄλλοτ’ ἐπὶ πλευρᾶς κατακείμενον, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ὕπτιον, ἄλλοτε δὲ πρηνῆ, τοτὲ δ’ ὀρθὸν ἀναστάντα πλωί̈ζοντ’ ἀλύοντ’ ἐπὶ θῖν’ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο

a6

b

This editorial practice, however, seems clearly to be in error. If we consider the citation as a whole, ἀναστάντα represents the only metrical problem (denoted by a question mark in the scansion below); the rest of the citation follows a perfectly regular hexameter pattern despite the fact that there are notable differences between Homer and Plato’s text:

- u u |- -| - u u - u u |- u u| - u ἄλλοτ’ ἐπ|ὶ πλευ|ρᾶς κατα|κείμενον, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε - uu | - uu | - -| - uu | - u u |- x| ? ὕπτιον,| ἄλλοτε | δὲ πρη|νῆ, τοτὲ | δ’ ὀρθὸν ἀν|αστάν|τα - -| - u u | - u u | - u u | - u u| - x πλωί̈|ζοντ’ ἀλύ|οντ’ ἐπὶ | θῖν’ ἁλὸς | ἀτρυγέ|τοιο I choose to accept the metrical anomaly of ἀναστάντα at face value (and thus in the process accept the readings of the most reliable manuscript, A), assuming that Plato – in keeping with his usual practice – is far more interested in semantic and syntactical clarity than he is in metrical fidelity. The metrical problem of ἀναστάντα after all only exists in the quoted text; were we to take the quotation out of indirect discourse, the nominative form of ἀναστάντα, ἀναστὰς, would represent no metrical problem whatsoever in Plato’s Homer. Other commentators, however, have assumed that Plato here goes to extreme lengths to preserve the metrical regularity of the citation. I argue that such an assumption is flawed at the most basic level, as it assumes an interest in metrical regularity that does not exist elsewhere in

303 the Homeric citations of the Republic.109 Indeed, the words of the character Socrates himself at Rep. 3.400d2-3 are perhaps the best witness to the fact that rhythm and meter are hardly paramount concerns in the Republic: “Further, as we said just now, rhythm and mode must conform to the words and not vice versa.”110 In this particular instance, that is to say, with the word ἀναστάντα, Plato’s Socrates is not attempting any kind of witty substitution: he is simply quoting his Homer in indirect discourse. Indeed, it would perhaps sound strange to the Greek ear if an indirect quotation were to sound identical in terms of meter to the original. Moreover, the fact that the extra syllable comes at line end would certainly lessen whatever rhythmic awkwardness might possibly be detected by the ancient Greek ear. Indeed, the final α could practically be subject to ellipsis should the speaker choose to make it so. Labarbe and Lohse, however, disagree.111 They believe that Plato has such a strong interest in metrical regularity that he allows synaphy to occur. They argue that the last syllable – τα of ἀναστάντα breaks off to join the metrical unit of the first foot of the next line. Subsequently, they are forced to prefer the metrically shorter reading πλάζοντ’ over that of A (πλωί̈ζοντ’) to accommodate the final syllable of ἀναστάντα in its new line as follows:

109

See, e.g., Quotation 1, 3, 9, 36 and Paraphrase 4, et al. With that said, in instances of words or phrases used for parodic substitution (e.g. Quotation 1; Quotation 3; et al.) or outright invention (e.g., Quotation 7 & Paraphrase 2; Quotation 9 & Paraphrase 3; et al.), Plato’s interest in meter is different. In order to make his version of Homer even more effective as a substitute or revision of the original, Plato will make substitutions in these instances such that they are metrical. This perhaps explains the substitution of ἐπὶ (b6) in Plato for Homer’s παρὰ and the addition of ἀτρυγέτοιο (b6), as will be discussed in detail below in 9 and 11 respectively. Indeed, in such a context, Plato’s practice is no different from any other parodist throughout the history of literature. To give but a single example, a modern song parody would be a failure if its author sacrificed the melody of the original in order to include a word he deemed comically effective. In the same way, depending upon the way in which Plato is citing Homer, he will be interested in meter in some instances, in others hardly at all. 111 Labarbe 1949, 289; Lohse 1965, 280-1. 110

304 - uu |- u u | - -| - u u| - u u |- x ὕπτιον,| ἄλλοτε | δὲ πρη|νῆ, τοτὲ | δ’ ὀρθὸν ἀν|αστάν-| - u u|u u | - u u | - u u| - x -τα πλά|ζοντ’ ἀλύ|οντ’ ἐπὶ | θῖν’ ἁλὸς | ἀτρυγέ|τοιο We shall discuss the relative merits of πλωί̈ζοντ’ over πλάζοντ’ below in 8, but suffice it to say that the solution of Lohse and Labarbe fails Ockham’s Razor: it is a needlessly complex solution to a problem, as inelegant as it is incorrect. The fact that synaphy simply does not occur in Epic is one of many problems with Lohse and Labarbe’s reading; other problems will be explored in detail below. The simpler solution is that Plato allows the extra syllable to stand in ἀναστάντα – totally consistent with his practice of indirect citation throughout the Republic – further evidence not that he does not care for meter at all, but that, when all else is equal, he values it below syntactical and semantic regularity. Indeed, Plato preserves the word ἀναστάντα precisely because he wishes to preserve the meaning of the original, not necessarily its meter. It just so happens that in his grammatical construction, the accusative form ἀναστάντα causes a minor problem. Indeed, if Plato were excessively preoccupied with metrical fidelity, he would never quote Homer using indirect discourse at all. 7) ἐπὶ (a9) : παρὰ (12) [Invention / Legitimate Variant] It is impossible to tell whether Plato’s text of Homer at this point differs from our own. The difference between ἐπὶ and παρὰ is quite superficial, so our uncertainty here does not have dire consequences. But at any rate, ἐπὶ can be explained either as an invention of Plato or an unknown variant. As an invention, we can assume that Plato used it in his text to allow for the elision of the final α of ἀλύοντα, to maintain the metrical integrity of the line as follows:

305

- -| u u| u u | - u u | - u u| - x πλωί̈|ζοντ’ ἀλύ|οντ’ ἐπὶ | θῖν’ ἁλὸς | ἀτρυγέ|τοιο This metrical integrity would have been compromised had he maintained Homer’s παρὰ: - -| - u u | - [u u u] | - u u | - u u| - x πλωί̈|ζοντ’ ἀλύ|οντα παρὰ | θῖν’ ἁλὸς | ἀτρυγέ|τοιο I am inclined to view this textual difference as an invention. The change to ἐπὶ shows that, when all else is equal, Plato will change his text in ways that do not sacrifice meaning in order to accommodate meter. In Homeric poetry παρὰ θῖν’ is a fairly common phrase.112 And while παρὰ is more appropriate given the context of the passage, ἐπὶ is attested in Homer in this very use. At Od. 8.49 Homer himself uses ἐπὶ in place of παρὰ with a phrase that mirrors Plato use exactly: βήτην, ὡς ἐκέλευσ’, ἐπὶ θῖν’ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο. Such evidence can be used by those who argue in favor of Plato’s phrase being an example of invention or as a legitimate variant; to my mind, however, Plato in this passage shows the facility with which he is able to manipulate the Homeric form, much like a bard himself. Labarbe writes in similar fashion in regard to Plato’s use of both ἐπὶ and ἀτρυγέτοιο (to be discussed below): on est en droit de soupçonner que les leçons ἐπὶ et ἀτρυγέτοιο, étrangères à la vulgate homérique, n’ont jamais figuré en Ω 12 et sont à considérer, non point comme des négligences, mais comme des adaptations platoniciennes. Il est en effet plausible que notre philosophe, tenté pour ainsi dire par l’agréable maniabilité des vers Ω 10-11, ait mis sa coquetterie d’écrivain à prolonger l’alternance régulière des longues et des brèves. 112

Cf. παρὰ θῖν’ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο: Il. 1.316; 327; Od. 10.179; HH 7.2; παρὰ θῖν’ ἁλὸς: Il. 11.622; Od. 6.94. Other similar formulaic phrases available to the improvising bard, depending on metrical constraints, include παρὰ θῖνα θαλάσσης: Il. 19.40; Od. 4.432; 14.347; and παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης: Il. 1.34; 9.182; HH. 4.341.

306

At any rate, if we were to reconstruct Plato’s Homer, ἐπὶ or παρὰ would be possible given the nominative form ἀλύων, which requires no elision to stay in meter; the Homeric pattern of composition favors παρὰ, yet it is impossible to determine precisely the origin of the reading ἐπὶ in Plato. 8) πλωί̈ζοντ’ (a9) : δινεύεσκ’ (12) [Invention / Parodic Substitution] Plato’s text at this point shows a variety of forms.113 While I, along with the vast majority of editors, accept πλωί̈ζοντ’, it is perhaps worth exploring first the minority opinion as expressed by Labarbe and Lohse. Labarbe and Lohse fault A’s reading of πλωί̈ζοντ’ both in terms of meaning and meter; we shall discuss below how such objections to πλωί̈ζοντ’, however, are invalid. In terms of meaning, Labarbe claims that πλωί̈ζοντ’ has a “sens mal définis.”114 Both Labarbe and Lohse feel that the meaning “to sail” is inappropriate in the context, or as Labarbe puts it in his own words “il exprime une action dont l’évocation discorde manifestement dans le contexte.”115 While Labarbe insists that Plato could not have possibly been parodying the Homeric verse, I shall argue that this is precisely the case.116 Indeed, that πλωί̈ζοντ’ is parodic is not at all a unique idea in the scholarly literature on this famous passage. Such a suggestion was first made by Jowett & Campbell, followed shortly thereafter by Howes who writes: “If πλωί̈ζοντ’ in the manuscripts of Plato is what he really wrote, either he had πλωί̈ζεσκ’ in his 113

Cf. πλωί̈ζοντ’ A; πλώζοντ’ D; πλώζοντα M; πλάζοντ’ F. There are also the following proposed emendations: πρωί̈ζοντα Heyne; πρῲ, ἰόντ’ Ast; ἀφλοίζοντ’ Adam. 114 Labarbe 1949, 285. 115 Labarbe 1949, 285. 116 For a similar use of subtle parody, see Quotation 3.

307 Homeric text, or else he introduced it for a parody.” Shorey likewise argues that the word is used for parody, as does Adam: “The picture savours of the burlesque.”117 The problem is that none of these scholars explains in what way the word is parodic. I shall do so as such a reading is hardly obvious. Following C. E. C. Schneider and Adam,118 I propose that πλωί̈ζοντ’ is to be taken in a metaphorical sense, with Achilles swaying back and forth as he walks along the shore, resembling either a ship on the sea or a man walking on the deck of a ship at sea,119 adjusting his gait left to right to accommodate the ship’s pitch.120 Indeed, this understanding of πλωί̈ζοντ’ nicely mirrors the meaning of Homer’s original verb δινεύω, which means, “to whirl about” (and by extension “to roam about”), describing the movement of spinning dancers, horses, and even warriors on the battlefield. By exaggerating the movement of Achilles with πλωί̈ζοντ’, Plato creates a comic effect and amplifies the extent of Achilles’ grief, making his lack of moderation all the more easy to criticize. The verb πλωί̈ζοντ’, moreover, is parodic on a subtler level as well. The sailing image that Plato introduces can serve as a means to mock the awkward zeugma Homer employs at Il. 24.8: ἀνδρῶν τε πτολέμους ἀλεγεινά τε κύματα πείρων (“passing through the wars of men and the grievous waves”). That the verb πλωί̈ζοντ’ is not Homeric, moreover, provides good evidence that Plato inserts the verb in his text intentionally.121

117

Shorey [1969] 1982, ad loc.; Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. See Des Places (1935, 132), who likewise proposes a metaphorical sense for the verb. 119 See Polybius (3.55.2), where a form of the same verb “to sail” is used to describe troops advancing in hardened snow who, like Achilles in our passage, move by reeling back and forth: οὐκέτι διέκοπτον, ἀλλ᾽ ἐπέπλεον. 120 The metaphorical use of “sailing” in the context of madness happens to be attested in Greek literature; Herodotus 3.155.3 and 6.12.13 describe those who are “sailing out of their minds” (ἐκπλώσαντες ἐκ τοῦ νόου, 6.12.13). 121 The verb is attested in Hesiod in its iterative form at Works 634 (πλωίζεσκ᾽ ἐν νηυσί…) and at Thucydides 1.13.5 (ἔπλῳζον). 118

308 That Labarbe’s and Lohse’s reading of πλάζοντ’ fails in respect to meaning, we can demonstrate in short order. Labarbe and Lohse (and likely the scribe of F) are attracted to πλάζοντ’ in the first place because it appears to capture the metaphorical meaning of the original, Homeric verb δινεύω, “to wander.” The problem with πλάζοντ’, however, is that it only takes this meaning in the passive voice. In the active, the verb inevitably means in Homer “to strike” or, taken in a causal sense, “to make to wander.”122 A line with F’s reading, then, would not mean the same thing as Homer’s original. Instead, it would rather provide a meaning far more awkward than that of A’s πλωί̈ζοντ’: “and then again he would rise upon his feet and making [who? what?] wander/strike [who? what?] along the shore of the waste unharvested sea.” Labarbe feebly tries to rescue an intransitive meaning for πλάζω, insisting that it has such a sense in compounds in the Hellenistic poet Nicander.123 Thus, he claims it was an Ionism that Plato knew. Labarbe, however, cannot cite any other Ionic precedent for such a usage, let alone any evidence from the literature of Plato’s time or prior to it. The fact remains that in Homer πλάζω never approaches such a sense. The more likely scenario, then, is that the scribe of F, unfamiliar with the strict Homeric distinction of the meaning of πλάζω in the active versus the passive voice, proposed an ingenious emendation to bring Plato’s text in accord with Homer’s – extremely common as we have seen in F – perhaps even “correcting” an erroneous intermediate reading πλώζοντ[α]’, as preserved in such “intermediate” MSS. as D and M.124 Indeed,

122

Cf. πλάζω in the active, meaning, “to strike”: Il. 2.132; 17.751; 21.269; “to make wander”: Od. 1.75; 2.396; 5.389; in the passive, “to wander”: Il. 10.91; Od. 3.95; 3.106; 3.252; 4.325; 13.204; 14.43; 16.64; 16.151. 123 Labarbe 1949, 289; Nicander Alex. 189; 127; Ther. 757. 124 That D and M mark the transition between A and F is generally acknowledged. See, e. g., Labarbe (1949, 166) and Boter (1989, 94 ff.).

309 Labarbe even proposes a logical scheme showing how πλάζοντ’ could “devolve” to the reading of A:125 πλωί̈ζοντ’ > πλώζοντ’ > πλάζοντ’ He admits, however, that the reverse is just as likely, so his argument in essence does nothing to justify his support of πλάζοντ’: πλάζοντ’ > πλώζοντ’ > πλωί̈ζοντ’.126 In terms of meter, Labarbe and Lohse suspect πλωί̈ζοντ’ based on their incorrect assumption that Plato has a particular interest in preserving meter in this citation. They argue that if a8’s ἀναστάντα introduces synaphy, a9 must lose a syllable by moving from πλωί̈ζοντ’ to πλάζοντ’ as follows: |- x ... ἀν|αστάν-| - u u|- uu| - u u |- u u| - x τα πλά|ζοντ’ ἀλύ|οντ’ ἐπὶ | θῖν’ ἁλὸς | ἀτρυγέ|τοιο If we were to suppose that some form of πλάζω was in Plato’s Homer, however, the verb could not fit metrically into the original context.127 The Homeric line requires an introductory word or words made up of three long syllables or a dactyl followed by a single long:

125

Labarbe 1949, 287. On the confusion of Α and Ω, see Severyns (1938, 119, 120, 129, 158, 169, 364, 375) and Labarbe (1949, 288). 127 Labarbe (1949, 285 ff.) and Lohse (1965, 280 ff.) do not consider these implications of their support of πλάζοντ’. Instead, they maintain that the verb is an extemporaneous invention designed to maintain metrical regularity. 126

310 [ - - | - ] OR [- uu | -] u u| - u u | - u u | - u u | - x [... ] ἀλύ|ων παρὰ| θῖν’ ἁλός·| οὐδέ μιν| ἠὼς / ἐπὶ | θῖν’ ἁλὸς | ἀτρυγέ|τοιο but consider: - - | [u] πλαζεσ|κετ’ (in the interative, middle-passive, to fit the original grammatical context) - u [u | -] πλαζετ’ or even [- | - ] πλαζ’ Even if the line began with a ὡς, whatever form of πλάζω we should choose is metrically impossible. The opposite is not true if we assume that some form of πλωί̈ζω appeared in Plato’s Homer. Assuming an iterative form as would be likely given the original grammatical context, we would read: - -| - u u| - u u | - u u | - u u | - x πλωί̈|ζεσκ’ ἀλύ|ων ἐπὶ | θῖν’ ἁλὸς | ἀτρυγέ|τοιο Other variants and proposed emendations fare much worse than that of F. To treat the manuscripts first, πλώζοντ’ (D) and πλώζοντα (M) are at fault as they are not Homeric readings, nor are they particularly sensible. In these readings, the iota of A’s πλωί̈ζοντ’ seems to have been dropped by mistake or on purpose to account for meter. The result, however, which means, “to swim” hardly makes any sense – not even parodic sense – in the passage. Heyne

311 ingeniously proposes the emendation πρωί̈ζοντα, which picks up on the mention of the early morning at the end of Iliad 24.12, not otherwise referred to in Plato: οὐδέ μιν ἠὼς (“nor does the Dawn [as she shone over the sea and the sea-beaches escape] his [notice]”). The problem is that the verb, while certainly possible in Greek, appears nowhere in extant Greek literature. Thus, while Heyne’s emendation has drawn a great deal of admiration for its inventiveness, no one has yet been willing to adopt it into the text proper.128 Ast’s emendation is perhaps more satisfying in that it is made up of Homeric words; but his πρῲ, ἰόντ’ is impossible metrically. Adam’s emendation of ἀφλοίζοντ’ is perhaps least satisfying of all (and indeed Adam himself does not incorporate it into his own text). The verb is an invention of Adam’s, deriving from the adjective ἀφλοισμός, thus meaning “to foam at the mouth.” Not only is such a reading textually impossible, but it is also thoroughly inappropriate in the context of the passage: Achilles is not angry as he is with Hector in Il. 15.607 (where the adjective form of the root word is used); he is grieving instead.129 9) ἀτρυγέτοιο (b1) [Invention / Legitimate Variant] It is possible that ἀτρυγέτοιο appeared in Plato’s Homer. The epithet ἀτρυγέτοιο is quite commonly attributed to the sea elsewhere in Homer.130 But as such a variant exists nowhere else in the MSS. tradition, it is perhaps more likely that Plato remembers this common epithet – 128

Indeed, the possibilities to alter the text seem endless. For my own part, why not suggest πρῳάζοντ’ [ὁδόντας], which used metaphorically means “to chatter,” yet preserves the nautical sense that would make the passage work in all respects? But as is the case with Heyne et al., with an already satisfactory manuscript reading, such emendations just show off the inventiveness of the editor. They do not end up solving any textual problems. 129 See Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) for an evaluation of other, less satisfactory emendations. 130 Cf. ἐπὶ θῖν’ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο: Od. 8.49; παρὰ θῖν’ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο: Il. 1.316; 327; Od. 10.179; HH 7.2; ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο: Il. 24.752, Od. 1.72; 5.52; ἁλὸς χνόον ἀτρυγέτοιο: Od. 6.224; ἀτρυγέτοιο θαλάσσης: Il. 14.204; Hesiod Th. 413; 728; HH 22.2; πόντου τ’ ἀτρυγέτοιο: Hesiod Th. 737; 808.

312 perhaps even recalling the specific phrase ἐπὶ θῖν᾽ ἁλὸς ἀτρυγέτοιο from Od. 8.49 – and uses it to fill out his Homeric line. That the word was added by Plato’s Socrates to complete the citation in meter, to give it in Labarbe’s phrasing a “majestic fall” (une chute majestueuse), is a fairly common opinion in the scholarship on this citation.131 In this way, Plato’s Socrates both shows off his mastery of the Homeric form – improvising the use of a common, well-placed epithet on the spot – and accommodates his parodic invention of πλωί̈ζοντ’. If Socrates does indeed blend Od. 8.49 with Il. 24.12, such a combination of lines would not be without precedent.132 Interpretation In this citation, Plato effectively mocks both the depiction of Achilles’ excessive grief and the grief itself. In terms of style, it is possible that Plato singles out a passage that is famous for its grammatical and logical anomalies. The passage contains a preponderance of iterative forms and an unusual and abrupt break from the poet’s “straightforward narration,” (ἁπλῆ διήγησις), an aspect of Homer’s style – namely that of shifting narrative perspective – that Plato’s Socrates explicitly takes to task at Rep. 3.392c7 ff.133 Plato, moreover, through his introduction of the verb πλωί̈ζω seems also to mock Homer’s awkward zeugma at Il. 24.8 (noted above). On its most basic level, the citation is a means whereby Socrates can criticize the excessive nature of Achilles’ grief over the death of Patroclus, the sort of grief that is damaging to the listener and serves as an unworthy model for the guardians (and the youth in general) to imitate.

131

Labarbe 1949, 284-5. See also Jowett & Campbell (1894, 113), Howes (1895, 203), and Mitscherling (2008, 412), who happens to reserve judgment on this point. 132 See Allusion 28, Quotation 29 and 37, and Paraphrase 4 for other examples of conflated texts. 133 For more on the unusual nature of this narrative shift, see Nagler (1974, 167-8).

313

Quotation 21: Plato Rep. 3.388b1-2 : Homer Il. 18.23-24 (Cf. Homer Od. 24.316-317) & Allusion 18: Plato Rep. 3.388b3-4 : Homer Il. 18.23-35; 70-78; 19.4-5; 343-346; 24.44-49; 128-130 Interpretive Context Immediately after Quotation 20 above, Socrates continues to criticize Homer’s depiction of Achilles’ excessive mourning over the death of Patroclus. In Book 17 of the Iliad, when Patroclus is killed by Hector, Achilles is so overcome with grief that he defiles himself with dust. His excessive grieving carries on until the conclusion of the epic, virtually unabated, as the hero eschews all physical pleasure, including food, drink, and sex. Plato is hardly the first to criticize the excess of Achilles’ emotional outburst. In fact, as we shall see below, various characters in the epic itself criticize his excessive grief. I have included a passage in the Original Context below from the Odyssey describing Laertes’ lament over the supposed death of Odysseus, the language of which mirrors Il. 18.22-24 exactly. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.388b1-4 μηδὲ [ἀμφοτέραισιν χερσὶν ἑλόντα κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν χευάμενον κὰκ κεφαλῆς,] μηδὲ ἄλλα [κλαίοντά] τε καὶ [ὀδυρόμενον] ὅσα καὶ οἷα ἐκεῖνος ἐποίησε ...

b

314 [Socrates to Adeimantus:] “neither [should Homer and the other poets represent Achilles, the son of a goddess,] [with both his hands taking dark dust and strewing it over his head,] nor further [weeping] and [lamenting] to the extent and in the ways that that one depicts him ...” Quotation 21 & Allusion 18 Homer Il. 18.22-27, 33, 35 ὣς φάτο, τὸν δ’ ἄχεος νεφέλη ἐκάλυψε μέλαινα· [ἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἑλὼν κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν χεύατο κὰκ κεφαλῆς,] χαρίεν δ’ ᾔσχυνε πρόσωπον· νεκταρέῳ δὲ χιτῶνι μέλαιν’ ἀμφίζανε τέφρη. αὐτὸς δ’ ἐν κονίῃσι μέγας μεγαλωστὶ τανυσθεὶς κεῖτο, φίλῃσι δὲ χερσὶ κόμην ᾔσχυνε δαί̈ζων. ... ... ὃ δ᾽ ἔστενε κυδάλιμον κῆρ· ... σμερδαλέον δ᾽ ᾤμωξεν· ...

25

33 35

So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief enwrapped Achilles, [and with both his hands he took the dark dust and strewed it over his head] and defiled his fair face, and on his fragrant tunic the black ashes fell. And himself in the dust lay outstretched, mighty in his mightiness, and with his own hands he tore and marred his hair ... he who in his noble heart was moaning mightily ... then terribly did Achilles groan aloud ... Quotation 21 Homer Od. 24.315-317 ὣς φάτο, τὸν δ᾽ ἄχεος νεφέλη ἐκάλυψε μέλαινα· [ἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἑλὼν κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν χεύατο κὰκ κεφαλῆς] πολιῆς, ἁδινὰ στεναχίζων. So he spoke, and a black cloud of grief enwrapped Laertes, [and with both his hands he took the dark dust and strewed it over his grey head with ceaseless groaning.] Allusion 18 Homer Il. 18.70, 73, 78 τῷ δὲ βαρὺ στενάχοντι παρίστατο πότνια μήτηρ, ... τέκνον τί [κλαίεις;] τί δέ σε φρένας ἵκετο πένθος; ... τὴν δὲ βαρὺ στενάχων προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς·

70

315 Then to his side, as he groaned heavily, came his queenly mother [i.e. Thetis] ... “My child, why [do you weep]? What sorrow has come upon your heart.” ... Then groaning heavily swift-footed Achilles answered her ... Homer Il. 19.4-5 εὗρε δὲ Πατρόκλῳ περικείμενον ὃν φίλον υἱὸν [κλαίοντα] λιγέως·

5

[Thetis to Achilles, as she urges him to leave Patroclus’ body and instead receive her gift of Hephaestus’ arms:] And she found her dear son as he lay, clasping Patroclus, and [weeping] aloud ... Homer Il. 19.343-346 ἦ νύ τοι οὐκέτι πάγχυ μετὰ φρεσὶ μέμβλετ’ Ἀχιλλεύς; κεῖνος ὅ γε προπάροιθε νεῶν ὀρθοκραιράων ἧσται ὀδυρόμενος ἕταρον φίλον· οἳ δὲ δὴ ἄλλοι οἴχονται μετὰ δεῖπνον, ὃ δ’ ἄκμηνος καὶ ἄπαστος.

345

[Zeus to Athene:] “Is there then no place in your thought any more for Achilles? Yonder he sits in front of his ships with upright horns, [mourning] for his dear comrade; the others verily are gone to their meal but he fasts and will have naught of food.” Homer Il. 24.44-49 ὣς Ἀχιλεὺς ἔλεον μὲν ἀπώλεσεν, οὐδέ οἱ αἰδὼς γίγνεται, ἥ τ᾽ ἄνδρας μέγα σίνεται ἠδ᾽ ὀνίνησι. μέλλει μέν πού τις καὶ φίλτερον ἄλλον ὀλέσσαι ἠὲ κασίγνητον ὁμογάστριον ἠὲ καὶ υἱόν· ἀλλ᾽ ἤτοι [κλαύσας] καὶ [ὀδυράμενος] μεθέηκε· τλητὸν γὰρ Μοῖραι θυμὸν θέσαν ἀνθρώποισιν.

45

[Apollo addressing the assembly of the gods:] “Even so has Achilles lost all pity, neither is there any shame [αἰδὼς, 44] in his heart, that which harms men greatly and profits them also. Lo, it may be that a man may lose one dearer even than this—a brother, from the same womb, or haply a son; yet verily when he has [wept] and [mourned] for him he finally stops; for an enduring soul [θυμὸν, 49] have the Fates given unto men. Homer Il. 24.128-130 τέκνον ἐμὸν τέο μέχρις [ὀδυρόμενος] καὶ ἀχεύων σὴν ἔδεαι κραδίην μεμνημένος οὔτέ τι σίτου οὔτ’ εὐνῆς;

130

316 “My child, how long will you devour your heart with [mourning] and grieving, and will you take no thought of food, neither of the couch? Texts Quotation 21 Plato Rep. 3.388b1-2 μηδὲ [ἀμφοτέραισιν χερσὶν ἑλόντα κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν χευάμενον κὰκ κεφαλῆς,]

b

b1 ἀμφοτέραισιν] ἀμφοτέραισιν A F : ἀμφοτέρῃσι A2 Homer Il. 18.23-24 [ἀμφοτέρῃσι δὲ χερσὶν ἑλὼν κόνιν αἰθαλόεσσαν χεύατο κὰκ κεφαλῆς,] χαρίεν δ’ ᾔσχυνε πρόσωπον· Textual Differences 1) ἀμφοτέραισιν (b1) : ἀμφοτέρῃσι (23) [Atticism] As is typical in Plato in citations in indirect statement, Attic forms prevail.134 Labarbe hypothesizes reasonably that this dative form may have influenced the second hand of A “to correct” the Attic reading and introduce the -τέρῃσιν ending. Otherwise, the second hand may have just abandoned the Attic form, after having consulted the Homeric source of the quotation. 2) δὲ (23) [Grammatical / Syntactical Convenience] In Plato’s sentence, Homer’s connective δὲ is unnecessary and out-of-place and hence excluded from the text of the citation.

134

See esp. Quotation 7, Quotation 9 & Paraphrase 3, and Quotation 14. See also Labarbe (1949, 161). For a point of contrast, see Quotation 17, a direct quotation in meter, where the Homeric form ἀλλήλῃσιν is preserved.

317 3) ἑλόντα (b2) : ἑλὼν (23) [Grammatical / Syntactical Convenience] As was the case in Quotation 20 above, this citation is reported in indirect speech, governed by ποιεῖν (a6). Accordingly, Homer’s nominative ἑλὼν is put into the accusative form ἑλόντα in Plato. 4) χευάμενον (b2) : χεύατο (24) [Grammatical / Syntactical Convenience] As in 3 above, the verb changes from the indicative mood in Homer to a participle in Plato to accommodate indirect discourse. Interpretation If Achilles’ stumbling in Quotation 20 were not ridiculous enough, the Homeric great man is degraded yet further as, while weeping uncontrollably, he throws dirt over his head. It is perhaps worth nothing that the women Briseis and Thetis are the only other characters in the epic whose display of grief comes close to matching that of Achilles.135 Moreover, in the same way that Socrates fears that the depiction of Achilles’ extreme grief will negatively affect those who hear Homer’s poetry, in the poem itself Achilles’ grief has a contagious quality. Antilochus and all of Patroclus’ and Achilles’ handmaidens join in Achilles’ mourning, as do Thetis and the rest of the Nereids. By Iliad 23, the entire Greek camp is undone with mourning.136 Indeed, in the case of the latter, they do so before they have even learned what has happened. In the same way, Plato would argue that Achilles’ grief infiltrates the soul of Homer’s listeners. They pity the character, feel what he feels along with him. In this way, emotion overcomes reason, thus compromising the beneficial harmony of the human soul.

135 136

For the grief of Thetis, see Quotation 23 below; for that of Briseis, see Il. 19.282-300. See the use of ὀδυρομένοισιν to describe the soldiers at Il. 23.154.

318 It is interesting to consider in these passages if Socrates is simply offering a wholesale censorship of the character of Achilles (and therefore perhaps the Iliad itself). Does Achilles still exist as a character in Homer without extremes of emotion? The depiction of his character in Homer is dominated by his extreme rage on the one hand and his extreme grief on the other: it drives the action of the poem as a whole. If Achilles is able to reign in his emotions, if he is able to be reasonable, do we still even have an Iliad? While Socrates’ criticism of Homer’s depiction of Achilles seems limited, concerned only with Achilles’ emotional state, when carried to its logical conclusion, such a criticism is broad reaching indeed. Finally, it is worth noting the extent to which Socrates’ criticism of Achilles here is unfair. It is hardly the case that Achilles’ emotional extremes are not criticized within the context of the Iliad itself. Many characters in the epic criticize Achilles for his lack of moderation; they counsel him to reel in his emotions and listen to reason.137 The god Apollo’s rebuke of Achilles, for example, is reproduced above in Original Context (cf. Il. 24.44 ff.).

Quotation 22: Plato Rep. 3.388b4-7 : Homer Il. 22.414-415 (Cf. Homer Il. 24.164-165; 640) Interpretive Context

137

See, e.g., Ajax’s criticism at Il. 9.652-7, that of Nestor at Il. 11.664-8, Odysseus’ at Il. 19.22832, and Patroclus’ at Il. 16.17-8.

319 In Plato, the excessive grief of Priam over the death of Hector is likewise held up as a negative exemplar. As in Homer, in Plato, Priam’s grief over Hector’s death acts as a foil to Achilles’ grief over Patroclus.138 As was the case with Achilles above, who in Quotation 20 is not referred to simply as Achilles, but Achilles “the son of a goddess,” here Priam is described as “a near kinsman of the gods.”139 In this way, not only does Plato perhaps subtly mock the use of such epithets in Homer, but he also makes the behavior of these men seem all the more unseemly given their supposed high station in life. In Homer, Achilles has just attached Hector’s body to his chariot in order to drag it around the city. Hecuba tears her hair, joining the rest of Troy in mourning over Hector. Priam himself rolls in the dung of the courtyard, an action at least as excessive as Achilles’ griefstricken staggering from Quotation 20 above.140 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.388b4-7 μηδὲ Πρίαμον ἐγγὺς θεῶν γεγονότα [λιτανεύοντά τε καὶ-[κυλινδόμενον κατὰ κόπρον, ἐξονομακλήδην ὀνομάζοντ’ ἄνδρα ἕκαστον.]

5

b6 κυλινδόμενον] κυλινδόμενον A D : κυλινδούμενον F [Socrates to Adeimantus:] “nor to represent Priam, a near kinsman of the gods, [making prayer and ‘rolling in the dung, calling on each man by name.”]

138

At Il. 24.635-42 Priam, like Achilles, also abstains from all bodily pleasure while he mourns. On Priam’s relation to Zeus through Dardanus, see Il. 20.215-37. 140 For more on the ancient practice of ritual defilement, see Dover ([1974] 1994, 167-8). 139

320 Homer Il. 22.408, 412-415 ᾤμωξεν δ’ ἐλεεινὰ πατὴρ φίλος … λαοὶ μέν ῥα γέροντα μόγις ἔχον ἀσχαλόωντα ἐξελθεῖν μεμαῶτα πυλάων Δαρδανιάων. πάντας [δ’ ἐλλιτάνευε κυλινδόμενος κατὰ κόπρον, ἐξονομακλήδην ὀνομάζων ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·]

415

And a piteous groan did his father utter … And the folk had much ado to hold back the old man in his frenzy, fain as he was to go forth from the Dardanian gates. To all [he made prayer, rolling in the dung, and calling on each man by name:] Homer Il. 24.163-165 ...ἀμφὶ δὲ πολλὴ κόπρος ἔην κεφαλῇ τε καὶ αὐχένι τοῖο γέροντος τήν ῥα κυλινδόμενος καταμήσατο χερσὶν ἑῇσι.

165

[As Iris arrives at the House of Priam to a scene of mourning:] “and upon the old man’s head and neck was [dung] in abundance, which he had gathered in his hands as he was [rolling] on the earth. Homer Il. 24.635-642 λέξον νῦν με τάχιστα διοτρεφές, ὄφρα καὶ ἤδη ὕπνῳ ὕπο γλυκερῷ ταρπώμεθα κοιμηθέντες· οὐ γάρ πω μύσαν ὄσσε ὑπὸ βλεφάροισιν ἐμοῖσιν ἐξ οὗ σῇς ὑπὸ χερσὶν ἐμὸς πάϊς ὤλεσε θυμόν, ἀλλ᾽ αἰεὶ στενάχω καὶ κήδεα μυρία πέσσω αὐλῆς ἐν χόρτοισι [κυλινδόμενος κατὰ κόπρον.] νῦν δὴ καὶ σίτου πασάμην καὶ αἴθοπα οἶνον λαυκανίης καθέηκα· πάρος γε μὲν οὔ τι πεπάσμην.

635

640

[Priam to Achilles:] “Show me now my bed with speed, O one nurtured of Zeus, that lulled at length by sweet sleep we may rest and take our joy; for never yet have my eyes closed beneath my eyelids since at your hands my son lost his life, but ever do I wail and brood over my countless sorrows, [rolling in the dung] in the closed spaces of the court. But now have I tasted of meat, and have let flaming wine pass down my throat; whereas till now had I tasted naught.”

321 Texts Plato Rep. 3.388b4-7 [λιτανεύοντά τε καὶ-[κυλινδόμενον κατὰ κόπρον, ἐξονομακλήδην ὀνομάζοντ’ ἄνδρα ἕκαστον.] Homer Il. 22.414-415 [δ’ ἐλλιτάνευε κυλινδόμενος κατὰ κόπρον, ἐξονομακλήδην ὀνομάζων ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·]

5

415

Textual Differences Like the last two citations, this one is reported in indirect discourse. In Slings’ text, part of the citation is set off, part not, pointing out the need for a regularization of the formatting of textual citations in Plato. 1) λιτανεύοντά (b4) : ἐλλιτάνευε (414) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] As was the case in Quotations 20-21, this citation is part of a sequence of indirect discourse begun with ποιεῖν (a6). Indirect discourse operates in numbers 3-4 below as well, where Homer’s nominatives become accusatives in Plato. In the case of Homer’s verb ἐλλιτάνευε, it is changed to the participial form λιτανεύοντά in Plato to accommodate his new grammatical construction. 2) τε καὶ (b5) : δ’ (414) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Here the appropriate connective is used in Plato to join the acts of “making prayer” and “rolling.” Homer’s δ’ would be inappropriate in the context of Plato’s sentence as it would not be used to join two clauses together as in Homer.

322 3) κυλινδόμενον (b6) : κυλινδόμενος (414) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] See number 1 above. It is interesting to note here that in Plato the epic form κυλινδόμενον is used; in Attic Greek, the verb is typically an epsilon contract, hence the alternate reading of F: κυλινδούμενον. While Hermann prefers the reading of F,141 arguing that it is more natural in indirect discourse since the citation does not strictly follow poetic form, I am inclined to agree with Labarbe (and the vast majority of modern editors) that κυλινδόμενον is the better reading.142 κυλινδόμενον appears to signal the beginning of the verbatim quotation proper, thus the Homeric form is more natural. 4) ὀνομάζοντ’ (b7) : ὀνομάζων (415) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] See number 1 above. As this particular change in form has no effect on the scansion of the line, modern editors in both the English and Greek texts have left the line indented in Plato. Interpretation Like Quotation 21 above, Plato’s Socrates seems to be reveling in the burlesque, choosing here and above to depict Homeric characters experiencing the most extreme emotions possible. Surely there is a serious purpose as well, namely to criticize the extreme grief of Priam, especially given his “godly” status. But Priam’s reaction to his grief, rolling in dung, taken out of its original context, is so extravagant, so lowly, as to be nearly comedic in nature. We can almost imagine such an exaggerated scene in an Aristophanic comedy. In fact, a comic interpretation of the citation is well-supported in the Republic itself. At Rep. 3.388d2 below,

141 142

Hermann 1852, ad loc. Labarbe 1949, 292.

323 Socrates says that if the young were “to listen seriously” (σπουδῆι ἀκούοιεν) to Homer’s tales of lamentation and not laugh at them, they would find it hard to resist the temptation to behave in this way themselves.143 In Plato, the imitation of such undesirable behavior can be done “in fun” (παιδιᾶς χάριν, Rep. 3.396e2),144 the spirit which characterizes mimesis in the first place, “something childish and not serious” (παιδίαν τινα καὶ οὐ σπουδήν, Rep. 10.602b8), but to take it seriously is positively dangerous. The comedic tone in Plato is strengthened by the alliteration of κυλινδόμενος κατὰ κόπρον (b6, 414). While in Homer the cacophony of these words serves to strengthen the pathos of the scene, in Plato it draws yet further attention to the behavior of Priam which, in its new context, is ridiculous. While the tone of alliteration is impossible to define objectively, 145 it is clearly possible that this is one of many occasions in which Plato marries the criticism of Homeric logos and lexis. Despite the humor of this citation, the ultimate purpose is a serious one: to criticize Homer’s depiction of Priam who, despite being leader of the Trojans, creates civic discord through his excessive grief. As was the case with Achilles above, the entire city of Troy shares in the king’s mourning, and thus reason succumbs entirely to emotion.146

143

See Quotation 26, Original Context for the text of this passage. On this point, see Ferrari (1989, 118-9). 145 The tone of Greek alliteration (and whether or not it can ever be considered intentional) is a subject of debate among scholars. Many older scholars, among them Seymour (1895), would agree with Leaf (1900-2, 1:90) who claims “[alliteration] is sporadic and apparently accidental.” Others in the modern era disagree, notably Stanford (1969, 14-7). In his edition of the Odyssey, Stanford (1948) points out – not in reference to the current passage – the use of alliterative kappa’s to emphasize a disagreeable situation at Od. 17.465. For a useful statistical analysis of the problem of alliteration in Homer, see Packard (1974, 239-60) with further bibliography there. See also Shewan (1925, 193-208) and M. Edwards (1991, esp. 58). 146 The disapprobation of excessive displays of public grief has a significant cultural context in Plato’s Athens. Allegedly, since the time of Solon, there were laws in place limiting such 144

324 Quotation 23: Plato Rep. 3.388c1 : Homer Il. 18.54 Interpretive Context This citation is a continuation of the Platonic context beginning in Quotation 20, as Socrates, displaying his wide acquaintance with Homer, reels off verse after verse of negative exemplars of excessive grief from Homer. In each successive citation, Socrates chooses a character with greater eminence than the last. Beginning with Achilles, he moves to the elder King Priam, in the present citation the lesser immortal Thetis, and finally, to follow, the immortal gods themselves. The Homeric context is identical to that of Quotation 21 above: following the death of Patroclus, the grief of Achilles overwhelms and effects all those around him, especially his mother, who, in turn, is joined in her sorrow by the rest of the Nereids. The lament of Thetis is remarkable both for the inventive and economical three-part hapax legomenon δυσαριστοτόκεια,147 which Thetis uses to describe herself as one “who bore to my sorrow the best of men.” δυσαριστοτόκεια happens to be a true hapax, existing nowhere else in all of Greek literature except for its quotation in Plato. Thetis’ repetition of ὤμοι is also remarkable, being the only such repetition in all of Homer.148 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.388b8-c1 πολὺ δ’ ἔτι τούτων μᾶλλον δεησόμεθα μήτοι θεούς γε ποιεῖν displays. The ancient sources testifying to such legislation include Cicero (De leg. 2.64-5) and Plutarch (Sol. 12.5). See also such modern sources as Humphreys (1993, 85-6), Garland (1989, 1-15), Engels (1998, 77-96), and Baumgarten (2008, 42-9). 147 For more on this coinage, see Nagy ([1979] 1999, 182) and A. Edwards (1984, 79-80). 148 For more generally on the unusual nature of this lament, see Tsagalis (2004) with further bibliography there.

325 ὀδυρομένους καὶ λέγοντας-[ὤμοι ἐγὼ δειλή, ὤμοι δυσαριστοτόκεια·]

c

[Socrates to Adeimantus:] “And we’ll ask them even more earnestly not to make the gods lament and say: ‘Ah, woe is me unhappy, woe is me who bore to my sorrow the best of men.” Homer Il. 18.51-54 … Θέτις δ’ ἐξῆρχε γόοιο· κλῦτε κασίγνηται Νηρηί̈δες, ὄφρ’ ἐὺ̈ πᾶσαι εἴδετ’ ἀκούουσαι ὅσ’ ἐμῷ ἔνι κήδεα θυμῷ. [ὤ μοι ἐγὼ δειλή, ὤ μοι δυσαριστοτόκεια,] and Thetis was leader in their lamenting: Listen, sister Nereids, that one and all may hear and know all the sorrows that are in my heart. [Ah, woe is me unhappy, woe is me who bore to my sorrow the best of men,] Texts Plato Rep. 3.388c1 [ὤμοι ἐγὼ δειλή, ὤμοι δυσαριστοτόκεια·]

c

Homer Il. 18.54 [ὤ μοι ἐγὼ δειλή, ὤ μοι δυσαριστοτόκεια,] Textual Difference 1) ὤμοι (c1) : ὤ μοι (54) [Arbitrary Editorial Decision] As both forms of the word are recognized149 and of equivalent meaning, the texts here cannot really be said to differ. Slings decided to write the words as one, following the editorial convention of Attic fifth-century texts, whereas van Thiel followes the typical editorial convention of other editors of Homer.

149

LSJ ad loc.

326 Interpretation Like the quotations above, this Homeric line out-of-context is somewhat absurd. Thetis seems to lament the fact that she has borne the best son. In the context of the Iliad, of course, the oxymoronic epithet δυσαριστοτόκεια makes perfect sense: despite having given birth to such an excellent son, she is doomed to watch him die young. As a practical concern, such a line is a clear danger to the state in Socrates’ eyes as it provides an example to mothers to care selfishly for the welfare of their sons rather than to encourage them to serve the state and die bravely if need be.

Quotation 24: Plato Rep. 3.388c4-5 : Homer Il. 22.168-169 Interpretive Context In this citation, Socrates continues to increase the dignity of the Homeric characters who express their grief in such unseemly fashion, focusing here and in the quotation to follow on the king of gods and men, Zeus himself. There are many other problems – from Plato’s perspective – with this episode as many of its details violate the tupoi Socrates set forth for the depiction of the gods at Rep. 2.379b ff. In Homer, Zeus laments the fate of Hector as he is pursued by his eventual killer, Achilles. None of the characters’ names from Homer is directly mentioned in Plato. The broader Homeric context of the lines Socrates cites would have been obvious, we may presume, to Plato’s contemporaries. At any rate, in Homer, Zeus considers sparing Hector, remarking upon Hector’s piety, specifically the number of thighbones he has roasted in his honor (cf. Il. 22.170-2). Athene is angered by Zeus’ lack of resolve and sets out to hasten Hector’s fate

327 herself.150 In so doing, however, Athene violates both of Socrates’ tupoi concerning the depiction of divine behavior. In violation of tupos 1 (the gods are not shape-shifters or deceitful in any way, cf. Rep. 2.380d ff.), Athene disguises herself as the mortal Deïphobus. In violation of tupos 2 (the gods are not the cause of evil, but only good, cf. Rep. 2.379b-c) in her new form, the goddess tricks Hector into facing Achilles in single combat. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.388c2-5 εἰ δ’ οὖν θεούς, μήτοι τόν γε μέγιστον τῶν θεῶν τολμῆσαι οὕτως ἀνομοίως μιμήσασθαι, ὥστε [ὢ πόποι, φάναι, ἦ φίλον ἄνδρα διωκόμενον περὶ ἄστυ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι, ἐμὸν δ’ ὀλοφύρεται ἦτορ·]

5

[Socrates to Adeimantus:] “But, if they do depict the gods so unlike themselves, at least they mustn’t dare to represent the greatest of the gods so that: [‘Alas,’ he says, ‘in truth a man so dear to me do my own eyes behold pursued around the city, and my heart laments:”] Homer Il. 22.167-172 τοῖσι δὲ μύθων ἦρχε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε· [ὢ πόποι ἦ φίλον ἄνδρα διωκόμενον περὶ τεῖχος ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι· ἐμὸν δ’ ὀλοφύρεται ἦτορ] Ἕκτορος, ὅς μοι πολλὰ βοῶν ἐπὶ μηρί’ ἔκηεν Ἴδης ἐν κορυφῇσι πολυπτύχου, ἄλλοτε δ’ αὖτε ἐν πόλει ἀκροτάτῃ…

170

Then among these the father of men and gods was first to speak: [Alas, in truth a man so dear to me do my own eyes behold pursued around the wall; and my heart laments] for Hector, who has burned for me many thighs of oxen on the crests of many-ridged Ida, and at other times on the topmost citadel…

150

This detail happens to violate part of Socrates’ tupos 1 on the principle of divine immutability. Since the gods do not change, Socrates argues, they are not swayed by human prayer (cf. Quotation 7).

328 Texts Plato Rep. 3.388c4-5 [ὢ πόποι, φάναι, ἦ φίλον ἄνδρα διωκόμενον περὶ ἄστυ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι, ἐμὸν δ’ ὀλοφύρεται ἦτορ·]

5

Homer Il. 22.168-169 [ὢ πόποι ἦ φίλον ἄνδρα διωκόμενον περὶ τεῖχος ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι· ἐμὸν δ’ ὀλοφύρεται ἦτορ] Textual Differences 1) φάναι (c4) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Here Plato shows his general disregard for the metrical integrity of Homer’s original as he interrupts the first line of the Homeric citation with the infinitive φάναι to complete his own ὥστε clause. Inexplicably, modern editors indent this line despite its metrical irregularity caused by the addition of φάναι. 2) ἄστυ (c4) : τεῖχος (168) [Legitimate Variant] Howes’ reading here of Plato’s text is likely correct.151 He argues that ἄστυ probably represents an old variant that did not find its way into our vulgate text. While the Homeric MSS. contain only τεῖχος, as does the indirect tradition as represented by Pseudo-Plutarch (Life of Homer 2.115) and Athenagoras (Embassy for the Christians 21), Plato’s MSS. contain only ἄστυ. Unlike some of the variants in the citations above, Plato does not seem to gain anything in his criticism of Homer with the substitution of ἄστυ for τεῖχος. If ἄστυ is not a legitimate variant, it is possible that it may have come to Plato’s mind by mistake because of a kind of mental

151

Howes 1895, 201.

329 association with the word.152 ἄστυ is used to the total exclusion of τεῖχος in describing the action in the verses which follow – in 173, 230, and 251; elsewhere in Homer’s text, ἄστυ figures prominently in scenes of lamentation. For example, at Il. 22.409 the phrase κατὰ ἄστυ is used to describe Troy’s collective lamentation at the sight of the dust-strewn head of Hector’s corpse. Immediately thereafter, the same phrase is used at Il. 22.433 in the context of Hecuba’s extended lament. Finally, περὶ ἄστυ is more common in Homer than περὶ τεῖχος. Whereas περὶ τεῖχος appears only twice in Homer,153 περὶ ἄστυ appears seven times.154 Interpretation The oddest part of this citation is that it falls a bit flat following immediately as it does the dust and dung-strewn mourners of the previous citations. Zeus, in a word, laments the fate of one of his mortal favorites. Yet, in the broader context of the argument of the Republic, such a lament does have serious ramifications. As Murray points out,155 the verb μιμήσασθαι (c3) recalls the painting analogy Socrates introduces at Rep. 2.377e, where Socrates argues that a story must be censored that “gives a bad image of what the gods and heroes are like, the way a painter does whose picture is not at all like the things he’s trying to paint” (ὅταν εἰκάζῃ τις κακῶς [οὐσίαν] τῷ λόγῳ, περὶ θεῶν τε καὶ ἡρώων οἷοί εἰσιν, ὥσπερ γραφεὺς μηδὲν ἐοικότα γράφων οἷς ἂν ὅμοια βουληθῇ γράψαι, Rep. 2.377e1-3). In forming his educational program, Socrates is intent on depicting the great men and the gods as models worthy of imitation. While he does not claim that he knows the truth about divine nature, he does make the claim that depicting the 152

Labarbe 1949, 182-3, in a rather uncharitable way, calls the variant the result of an absentminded person (un distrait), though he reserves placing blame on either Plato or the oral tradition itself. 153 Besides the passage in question, see also Il. 12.177. 154 Cf. Il. 6.256; 8.519; 16.448; 22.251; 24.402; 548; Od. 14.473. 155 P. Murray [1996] 2007, 161.

330 gods as good is both “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος), whereas depicting them as bad has negative consequences. Having Zeus lament – even in a restrained way as that above – encourages such behavior in others, since they would “only [be] doing the same as the first and greatest of the gods” (ἀλλὰ δρῴη ἂν ὅπερ θεῶν οἱ πρῶτοί τε καὶ μέγιστοι, Rep. 2.378b4-5). In this way, such stories must be censored according to Socrates as they are “unlikely likenesses” (ἀνομοίως μιμήσασθαι, c3) of the gods, a phrase perhaps reminiscent of the damaging “lies unlike the truth” that Socrates criticizes the poets for telling.156 Moreover, this Homeric passage fails in Socrates’ view as Zeus, “the first and greatest of the gods,” is depicted as supremely powerless. Not only is he unable to control his own emotions, but the impotence of his divine will (and general lack of resolve) and his inability to carry out “justice” by saving the pious Hector are quite striking.157

Quotation 25: Plato Rep. 3.388c7-d1 : Homer Il. 16.433-434 Interpretive Context In Plato, Socrates immediately follows Quotation 24 above with a parallel example of Zeus’ grief over a mortal favorite. In Homer, Patroclus is slaughtering many a Trojan warrior before Sarpedon meets him. At this point, Zeus pities Sarpedon, whom he knows is fated to die.158 As above in Quotation 23,

156

See esp. Allusion 1, Interpretation. Consider the fact, for example, that in Iliad 20, Poseidon both considers saving one of his favorites, Aeneas, from death, and in fact succeeds in doing so. Poseidon’s stated reason is that “[Aeneas] gives gifts that please the gods who hold wide heaven” (Il. 20.299). 158 See an echo of this lament for Sarpedon in Vergil (Aen. 10.471). 157

331 Zeus considers saving him. Once again, however, Zeus is chastened by a goddess – in remarkably similar language – as here Hera rebukes Zeus for his plan to thwart fate, telling him that if he should save a mortal favorite, there would be no end to such behavior among the rest of the gods. As is the case with several of the “censored” Homeric citations in Plato, this Homeric passage was questioned in Alexandria as well, namely by Zenodotus who omitted lines 432-458 from his recension. It is likely, however, that in this case the lines were athetized on the grounds of geographic inconsistency: Hera had previously left Olympus for Mount Ida (cf. Il. 15.79), yet appears here on Olympus with no mention of her return. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.388c6-d7 καὶ-[αἲ αἲ ἐγών, ὅ τέ μοι Σαρπηδόνα φίλτατον ἀνδρῶν μοῖρ’ ὑπὸ Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο δαμῆναι.] εἰ γάρ, ὦ φίλε Ἀδείμαντε, τὰ τοιαῦτα ἡμῖν οἱ νέοι σπουδῇ ἀκούοιεν καὶ μὴ καταγελῷεν ὡς ἀναξίως λεγομένων, σχολῇ ἂν ἑαυτόν γέ τις ἄνθρωπον ὄντα ἀνάξιον ἡγήσαιτο τούτων καὶ ἐπιπλήξειεν, εἰ καὶ ἐπίοι αὐτῷ τι τοιοῦτον ἢ λέγειν ἢ ποιεῖν, ἀλλ’ οὐδὲν αἰσχυνόμενος οὐδὲ καρτερῶν πολλοὺς ἐπὶ σμικροῖσιν παθήμασιν159 θρήνους ἂν ᾄδοι καὶ ὀδυρμούς.

d

5

[Socrates to Adeimantus:] “and: [‘Ah, woe is me, for that it is fated that Sarpedon, dearest of men to me, be slain by Patroclus, son of Menoetius!’] For, dear Adeimantus, if our young men should seriously [σπουδῇ, d2] listen to these stories without ridiculing them as not worth hearing, it’s hardly likely that they’ll consider the things described in them to be unworthy of mere human beings like themselves or that they’ll rebuke themselves for doing or saying similar things when misfortune strikes. Instead, they’ll feel neither shame nor restraint but groan and lament at even insignificant misfortunes.”

159

It is worth considering whether there is yet another poetic citation in this passage in Plato. Adam ([1902] 2009, ad loc.) remarks upon the poetic rhythm of the phrase ἐπὶ σμικροῖσι παθήμασι, wondering whether it derives from a lost hexameter.

332 Homer Il. 16.431-438 τοὺς δὲ ἰδὼν ἐλέησε Κρόνου πάϊς ἀγκυλομήτεω, Ἥρην δὲ προσέειπε κασιγνήτην ἄλοχόν τε· [ὤ μοι ἐγών, ὅ τε μοι Σαρπηδόνα φίλτατον ἀνδρῶν μοῖρ’ ὑπὸ Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο δαμῆναι.] διχθὰ δέ μοι κραδίη μέμονε φρεσὶν ὁρμαίνοντι, ἤ μιν ζωὸν ἐόντα μάχης ἄπο δακρυοέσσης θείω ἀναρπάξας Λυκίης ἐν πίονι δήμῳ, ἦ ἤδη ὑπὸ χερσὶ Μενοιτιάδαο δαμάσσω.

435

And the son of crooked-counseling Cronos took pity when he saw them, and spoke to Hera, his sister and his wife:[Ah, woe is me, for that it is fated that Sarpedon, dearest of men to me, be slain by Patroclus, son of Menoetius!] And in twofold wise is my heart divided in counsel as I ponder in my thought whether I shall snatch him up while yet he lives and set him afar from the tearful war in the rich land of Lycia, or whether I shall slay him now beneath the hands of the son of Menoetius. Texts Plato Rep. 3.388c7-d1 [αἲ αἲ ἐγών, ὅ τέ μοι Σαρπηδόνα φίλτατον ἀνδρῶν μοῖρ’ ὑπὸ Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο δαμῆναι.]

d

Homer Il. 16.433-434 [ὤ μοι ἐγών, ὅ τε μοι Σαρπηδόνα φίλτατον ἀνδρῶν μοῖρ’ ὑπὸ Πατρόκλοιο Μενοιτιάδαο δαμῆναι.] Textual Differences & Interpretation 1) αἲ αἲ (c7) : ὤ μοι (433) [Invention / Atticism] Howes claims that as αἲ αἲ is not Homeric, it is likely an Atticism best attributed to “some scribe.”160 The “some scribe” theory seems weak in one very important respect as αἲ αἲ is the

160

Howes 1895, 190.

333 reading of all Platonic MSS. αἲ αἲ, moreover, appears in Athenagoras as well.161 And while Howes’ explanation for the αἲ αἲ variant is perhaps possible, applying Mitscherling’s Principle of Authorial Respect,162 it is better to claim that αἲ αἲ appears here both for the sake of variation163 and in order to call to the reader’s mind the emotional intensity of the tragic theater.164 In varying the interjections of his subjects, moving from ὤμοι to ὢ πόποι to αἲ αἲ, Socrates is able to display the full range of the absurdly elevated grief of the most dignified of Homeric characters. This collocation of such outbursts creates a ridiculous image of the gods and heroes as Homer portrays them, groaning and shouting as they do in Plato in such rapid succession and in so exaggerated a fashion. Further, as Anna Spitzbarth points out,165 αἲ αἲ was an interjection with a particularly dramatic emotional charge, a charge that Plato, no doubt, uses to his advantage here to make his point all the stronger that Homer depicts his characters with an inappropriate inability to control their emotions. 2) τέ (c7) : τε (433) [Modern Editorial Error (Homeric Editor)] Here the modern editors of the Homeric text have made an error. According to the rules of enclitics, the enclitic τέ has caused the relative ὅ to retain its acute accent and in the succession of the enclitics τέ and μοι, μοι has – as is indicated in the Platonic text – “thrown” its accent onto τέ. 161

Athenagoras Pro Christ. 21. On the relationship between Athenagoras and Plato’s texts, see Labarbe (1949, 184). The other representative in the secondary tradition to these Homeric lines, Eustathius (1069.46), follows Homer’s ὤ μοι. 162 Mitscherling 2005. 163 Labarbe (1949, 185 n. 2) supports this view. 164 As Labarbe (1949, 185) points out, αἲ αἲ is an interjection specific to the tragic genre. Recall the pains to which Socrates goes to associate Homer with the damaging mimesis of the tragic theater, calling Homer the “leader of tragedy” at Rep. 10.598d8. For more on the implications of the association of Homer with tragedy, see Mitscherling (2008, 249-54). 165 Spitzbarth 1946, 95.

334

3. Emotional Moderation: Laughter Nimium risus pretium est, si probitatis impendio constat. (Quintilian De Institutione Oratoria 6.3.5) A laugh costs too much when bought at the expense of virtue.

Quotation 26: Plato Rep. 3.389a5-6 : Homer Il. 1.599-600 Interpretive Context Next, Socrates will take on Homer’s depiction of an emotion quite the opposite of grief, laughter. He argues that in the same way that the depiction of excessive grief is dangerous and unbecoming – especially in the case of the gods – the depiction of excessive laughter is similarly to be avoided. Socrates will develop his argument against laughter, then, in parallel fashion to that of his “grief argument” above. Indeed, the precedent for such parallelism is set by Homer himself. In Quotation 25 (on grief) and Quotation 26 (on laughter), the Homeric contexts contain identical passages. In both instances, Hera questions the judgment of Zeus as follows: τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη· αἰνότατε Κρονίδη ποῖον τὸν μῦθον ἔειπες.166 In answer to him spoke the ox-eyed lady Hera: “Most dread son of Cronos, what a word you have said!”

166

Il. 1.551-2 (= 16.439-40). See also Hera’s use of this couplet once more to criticize Zeus at Il. 18.360-1.

335 The only difference between Socrates’ arguments against excessive grief and the ones he makes against excessive laughter is that he develops the latter in summary fashion. He chooses to focus immediately on Homer’s “false” depiction of the “unquenchable laughter” (ἄσβεστος … γέλως, Il. 1.599; cf. Rep. 3.389a5) of the gods, mentioning nothing of the laughter of heroes. In the Homeric passage from which Socrates quotes, Hera wants to know the details of Zeus’ meeting with Thetis; she fears that Thetis has somehow persuaded Zeus to spare Achilles. Zeus flies into a rage against Hera – a violent shift in mood in and of itself – causing Hephaestus to intervene on Hera’s behalf. He tells Hera to end her quarrel with Zeus as it will interrupt the pleasure of the gods’ blessed banquet. Hephaestus argues in addition that when Zeus is angry, he is far too powerful to be opposed, citing as evidence his own maltreatment at the hands of Zeus when he was cast down to the island of Lemnos (cf. Il. 18.395). Thereafter, to maintain the peace, Hephaestus, breathing heavily, hobbling about, serves as the cupbearer to the gods, pouring them all “sweet nectar” (γλυκὺ νέκταρ, Il. 1.598). Hephaestus’ officiousness and his unfavorable contrast with the usual, graceful cupbearers, Hebe (cf., e.g., Il. 4.2) and Ganymede (cf., e.g., Il. 20.234) cause the gods to erupt into “unquenchable laughter” (ἄσβεστος … γέλως, Il. 1.599; cf. Rep. 3.389a5).167 Original Context

167

See also Allusion 21, where Hephaestus is once more the cause of divine laughter. The nature of Homeric laughter and the reason for the gods’ laughter in this particular passage have been thoroughly debated in scholarship. Shorey (1927, 222-3) argues that there is no abusive element in the gods’ laughter at Hephaestus. Levine (1982-3), however, challenges Shorey’s reading and otherwise gives a thorough treatment of the problem of laughter in general in Homer. Hewett (1928, esp. 438) bases his discussion of laughter on Aristotle (Poetics 1440a ff.), noting how elements of cruelty, deformity, and incongruity inform Homeric laughter. For a well-nuanced, modern treatment of Homeric laughter, see Bell (2007, esp. 96-100 on the Hephaestus episode).

336 Plato Rep. 3.388e5-389a6 Ἀλλὰ μὴν οὐδὲ φιλογέλωτάς γε δεῖ εἶναι. σχεδὸν γὰρ ὅταν τις ἐφιῇ ἰσχυρῷ γέλωτι, ἰσχυρὰν καὶ μεταβολὴν ζητεῖ τὸ τοιοῦτον. Δοκεῖ μοι, ἔφη. Οὔτε ἄρα ἀνθρώπους ἀξίους λόγου κρατουμένους ὑπὸ γέλωτος ἄν τις ποιῇ, ἀποδεκτέον, πολὺ δὲ ἧττον, ἐὰν θεούς. Πολὺ μέντοι, ἦ δ’ ὅς. Οὐκοῦν Ὁμήρου οὐδὲ τὰ τοιαῦτα ἀποδεξόμεθα περὶ θεῶν-[ἄσβεστος δ’ ἄρ’ ἐνῶρτο γέλως μακάρεσσι θεοῖσιν, ὡς ἴδον Ἥφαιστον διὰ δώματα ποιπνύοντα·]168

5

389

5

[Socrates:] “Again, they must not be prone to laughter. For ordinarily when one abandons himself to violent laughter his condition provokes a violent change.” [Adeimantus:] “I think so,” he said. “Then if anyone represents men of worth as overpowered by laughter we mustn’t accept it, much less if gods.” “Much indeed,” he replied. “Then we must not accept from Homer such sayings as these either about the gods: [‘And unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods, as they saw Hephaestus puffing through the palace.’”] Homer Il. 1.597-600 αὐτὰρ ὃ τοῖς ἄλλοισι θεοῖς ἐνδέξια πᾶσιν οἰνοχόει γλυκὺ νέκταρ ἀπὸ κρητῆρος ἀφύσσων· [ἄσβεστος δ’ ἄρ’ ἐνῶρτο γέλως μακάρεσσι θεοῖσιν ὡς ἴδον Ἥφαιστον διὰ δώματα ποιπνύοντα.]

600

Then he poured wine for all the other gods from left to right, drawing forth sweet nectar from the bowl. [And unquenchable laughter arose among the blessed gods, as they saw Hephaestus puffing through the palace.] Interpretation The prejudice against excessive laughter in Plato is mirrored in many other ancient sources.169 Diogenes Laertius (3.26) takes this attitude to its logical, fancifully autobiographical extreme

168

For the punctuation as adopted here, see Slings (1990, 344-5); the passage has had a long history of textual difficulty, largely solved, however, by Adam and then later Slings.

337 claiming that Plato himself never laughed excessively in his youth. The criticism of divine laughter in Plato, however, is naturally colored by the context of Socrates’ overall argument, not in the least his vision of divinity. As was the case with grief above, the depiction of divine laughter deviates from Socrates’ tupoi concerning the gods. If the gods do not change (tupos 1), the “violent change” (ἰσχυρὰν … μεταβολὴν, Rep. 388e6) associated with laughter is inconsistent with their basic nature. As we learn later in the Republic, moreover, laughter is a danger to psychic and social well-being as it is associated with the lowest part of the soul (τὸ ἐπιθυμητικόν). As Socrates explains at Republic 10.606c ff., the poetic imitation of such lowly impulses as sex, anger, and laughter, serves only to encourage them in the listener, to establish them as rulers in his soul rather than reason.

4. Emotional Moderation: Obedience Τί δὲ τοῦ πειθαρχεῖν τοῖς νόμοις δικαιότερον; (Josephus Against Apion 2.293) What higher justice is there than obedience to the laws?

Quotation 27: Plato Rep. 3.389e6 : Homer Il. 4.412 Interpretive Context

169

Isocrates (Demon. 15); Plato (Laws 5.732c, 11.935b); Aristotle (Eth. 4.8; Rhet. 1389b10); Epictetus (Encheirid. 33.4); Dio Chrysostom (Or. 33.703).

338 After a discussion in which Socrates determines that falsehoods should only be used by rulers and then only for the “good of the city” (ἐπ᾽ ὠφελίᾳ τῆς πόλεως, Rep. 3.389c), he discusses moderation first in terms of obedience to authority, the implication being that even rulers who lie – provided that they do so nobly – must be obeyed. What follows is a positive citation from Homer, the first of its kind in the Republic, wherein Socrates approves of the words of Diomedes. In the citations to follow, Socrates will treat other aspects of moderation, namely the regulation of the bodily pleasures of drink, sex, and food. In Homer, Diomedes is bidding Sthenelus to be silent and not question the authority of Agamemnon, who has just chided Diomedes among others for shrinking from battle. Diomedes’ argument in favor of obedience stems from a principle of responsibility. He argues that since all shame in the case of failure and all glory in the case of victory will ultimately rest on Agamemnon’s shoulders, his authority must remain unquestioned. Original Context & Texts Plato Rep. 3.389d7-e6 Τί δέ; σωφροσύνης ἆρα οὐ δεήσει ἡμῖν τοῖς νεανίαις; Πῶς δ’ οὔ; Σωφροσύνης δὲ ὡς πλήθει οὐ τὰ τοιάδε μέγιστα, ἀρχόντων μὲν ὑπηκόους εἶναι, αὐτοὺς δὲ ἄρχοντας τῶν περὶ πότους e καὶ ἀφροδίσια καὶ περὶ ἐδωδὰς ἡδονῶν; Ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ. Τὰ δὴ τοιάδε φήσομεν οἶμαι καλῶς λέγεσθαι, οἷα καὶ Ὁμήρῳ Διομήδης λέγει-5 [τέττα, σιωπῇ ἧσο, ἐμῷ δ’ ἐπιπείθεο μύθῳ,] [Socrates:] “What about moderation [σωφροσύνης, d7]? Won’t our young people also need that?” [Adeimantus:] “Of course.” “And aren’t these the most important aspects of moderation for the majority of people, namely, to obey the rulers and to rule the pleasures of drink, sex, and food for themselves?” “That’s my opinion at any rate.” “Then we’ll say that the words of Homer’s Diomedes are well put:

339 [‘Good friend, abide in silence, and hearken to my word.’”] Homer Il. 4.401-405, 410-414 ὣς φάτο, τὸν δ’ οὔ τι προσέφη κρατερὸς Διομήδης αἰδεσθεὶς βασιλῆος ἐνιπὴν αἰδοίοιο· τὸν δ’ υἱὸς Καπανῆος ἀμείψατο κυδαλίμοιο· Ἀτρεί̈δη μὴ ψεύδε’ ἐπισταμενος σάφα εἰπεῖν· ἡμεῖς τοι πατέρων μέγ’ ἀμείνονες εὐχόμεθ’ εἶναι· 405 … τὼ μή μοι πατέρας ποθ’ ὁμοίῃ ἔνθεο τιμῇ. 410 τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη κρατερὸς Διομήδης· [τέττα,170 σιωπῇ ἧσο, ἐμῷ δ’ ἐπιπείθεο μύθῳ·] οὐ γὰρ ἐγὼ νεμεσῶ Ἀγαμέμνονι ποιμένι λαῶν ὀτρύνοντι μάχεσθαι ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιούς· So he spoke, and stalwart Diomedes answered him not a word, but had respect for the reproof of the king revered. But the son of glorious Capaneus made answer. Son of Atreus, utter not lies, when you know how to speak truly… Wherefore I bid you put not our fathers in like honor with us. Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows stalwart Diomedes addressed him: [Good friend, abide in silence, and hearken to my word.] I count it not shame that Agamemnon, shepherd of the host, should urge on to battle the well-greaved Achaeans. Interpretation It is perhaps fitting that the first quotation that Socrates approves of from Homer should come from Diomedes, who, in this passage in particular, acts as an anti-Achilles. Unlike Achilles, whose actions are the result of a profound disregard for Agamemnon’s authority, Diomedes not only does not question the unfair insult Agamemnon directs at him – Diomedes had very much taken the lead in fighting and did not deserve any sort of rebuke – but he encourages others to do the same. In this way, then, Socrates finds a Homeric hero praiseworthy, yet one who is so vastly different from the typical model of heroism in Homer as to be nearly unrecognizable.171 170

On this Homeric hapax, see Leaf (1900-2, ad loc.) and Chantraine (2000, ad loc.). Odysseus, for example, earlier in the same passage (cf. Il. 4.349 ff.), does not take Agamemnon’s criticism as well as Diomedes, saying that Agamemnon’s rebuke is “as empty as wind” (ἀνεμώλια, Il. 4.355). 171

340 Diomedes, as an anti-Achilles, disregards any selfish concerns over his timē and instead takes his leader’s rebuke for the good it is supposed to inspire: bravery and fearlessness on the battlefield.

Quotation 28: Plato Rep. 3.389e8 : Homer Il. 3.8 (Cf. Homer Il. 2.536; 11.508; 24.364; Strabo Geography 10.1.3;172 12.8.7173) & Quotation 29: Plato Rep. 3.389e9 : Homer Il. 4.431 Interpretive Context Following Quotation 27, Socrates cites two more Homeric lines as favorable representations of military obedience. While the lines are quoted consecutively in Plato’s text, in Homer they are from Iliad 3 and 4 respectively. The implications of this collocation of texts will be explored in full below. The Homeric passages Socrates quotes are extremely similar, a fact that has not gone unnoticed among Homeric commentators like G. S. Kirk, who cross-references the passages with one another.174 The Homeric lines are linked together with one another and to Quotation 27 by the use of the word σιγῇ “in silence,” a word that also functions prominently thematically in Socrates’ development of the idea of obedience. In terms of the narration of the plot of the Iliad, both lines Socrates quotes describe the Greeks being drawn up for battle. In fact, the episodes 172

Strabo quotes Il. 2.536 in full in order to note that Homer always refers to the inhabitants of Euboea as Abantes rather than Euboeans. His text is in perfect agreement with our Homeric vulgate. 173 Strabo quotes the first part of Il. 3.2 and then 3.8 in full (including σιγῇ, which Plato leaves out below in his quotation of the same material) in the context of a discussion of how Homer names the tribes and Greeks and Trojans inconsistently or at least different from the present practice. 174 Kirk 1985, ad Il. 3.8-9.

341 deal ostensibly with the same battle sequence. In Iliad 3, Paris and Menelaus are about to meet in single combat. In Iliad 4, the armies prepare for battle once more, as the truce resulting from this single combat is broken by Pandarus (cf. Allusion 14). Finally, in each case, the lines Socrates quotes come in passages that contain extended metaphors describing the behavior and sound of the Greek and Trojan troops respectively. In each case, the Greek heroes are compared favorably to the Trojans. Whereas the Greek heroes advance in menacing silence, obedient and fearful of their leaders, the Trojans show little self-restraint. The Trojans are noisy, compared by the poet to birds and ewes in Iliad 3 and 4 respectively.175 A fitting contemporary characterization of the silence that characterizes good, soldierly discipline among Greeks appears in Xenophon’s Anabasis, 1.8.11. Here, as is the case in Homer, the noise of the barbarians is contrasted with the silence of the Greek advance: ὃ μέντοι Κῦρος εἶπεν ὅτε καλέσας παρεκελεύετο τοῖς Ἕλλησι τὴν κραυγὴν τῶν βαρβάρων ἀνέχεσθαι, ἐψεύσθη τοῦτο· οὐ γὰρ κραυγῇ ἀλλὰ σιγῇ ὡς ἁνυστὸν καὶ ἡσυχῇ ἐν ἴσῳ καὶ βραδέως προσῇσαν. As for the statement, however, which Cyrus made when he called the Greeks together and urged them to hold out against the shouting of the barbarians, he proved to be mistaken in this point; for they came on, not with shouting, but in the utmost silence [σιγῇ] and quietness, with equal step and slowly.

175

Note the noisy advance of the Trojans yet again at Il. 2.780, 810, and 13.39 ff. The Greeks noisily arm themselves before battle at Il. 11.50; the Greek shout only once in the midst of battle (cf. Il. 17.755 ff.), while in a panic as they are routed by Hector and Aeneas. Here the poet compares the Greeks to starlings fleeing a hawk. The fact that these negative comparisons involve animals fits in well with Socrates’ psychological theories and interest in the primacy of reason. See, for example, Rep. 4.441b where Socrates claims that young children and animals do not participate in rational calculation, though they have a good amount of the spirited element right from birth. For more on the contrast between the silent Greeks advance and that of the Trojans, see Kirk (1985, ad Il. 3.8-9).

342 The menacing silence of the Greeks (cf. μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοί) appears in several other instances in Homer, as noted below in the Cross-References section. Original Context Quotations 28-29 Plato Rep. 3.389e7-11 καὶ τὰ τούτων ἐχόμενα, τὰ-[ἴσαν μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοί,] [σιγῇ δειδιότες σημάντορας,] καὶ ὅσα ἄλλα τοιαῦτα. Καλῶς.

10

[Socrates:] “and so is what follows:176 [‘the Achaeans came on, breathing fury,] [all silent as they were through fear of their commanders’] and all similar passages.” [Adeimantus:] “Yes, well said.” Quotation 28 Homer Il. 3.1-2, 8-9 αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κόσμηθεν ἅμ’ ἡγεμόνεσσιν ἕκαστοι, Τρῶες μὲν κλαγγῇ τ’ ἐνοπῇ τ’ ἴσαν ὄρνιθες ὣς … οἳ δ’ ἄρ’ [ἴσαν σιγῇ μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοὶ] ἐν θυμῷ μεμαῶτες ἀλεξέμεν ἀλλήλοισιν. Now when they were marshaled, the several companies with their captains, the Trojans came on with clamor and with a cry like birds … But [the Achaeans came on in silence, breathing fury,] eager at heart to bear aid each man to his fellow. Quotation 29 Homer Il. 4.422-423, 427-431, 433-436 176

Adam ([1902] 2009, ad loc.) mistakenly takes the phrase τὰ τούτων ἐχόμενα literally, complaining that the two verses Plato quotes do not follow directly in Homer’s text. With τὰ τούτων ἐχόμενα, however, Socrates is merely referring to the words to follow in his own quotation.

343 ὡς δ’ ὅτ’ ἐν αἰγιαλῷ πολυηχέι κῦμα θαλάσσης ὄρνυτ’ ἐπασσύτερον Ζεφύρου ὕπο κινήσαντος· … ὣς τότ’ ἐπασσύτεραι Δαναῶν κίνυντο φάλαγγες νωλεμέως πόλεμον δέ· κέλευε δὲ οἷσιν ἕκαστος ἡγεμόνων· οἳ δ’ ἄλλοι ἀκὴν ἴσαν, οὐδέ κε φαίης τόσσον λαὸν ἕπεσθαι ἔχοντ’ ἐν στήθεσιν αὐδήν, [σιγῇ δειδιότες σημάντορας] … … Τρῶες δ’, ὥς τ’ ὄϊες πολυπάμονος ἀνδρὸς ἐν αὐλῇ μυρίαι ἑστήκασιν ἀμελγόμεναι γάλα λευκὸν ἀζηχὲς μεμακυῖαι ἀκούουσαι ὄπα ἀρνῶν, ὣς Τρώων ἀλαλητὸς ἀνὰ στρατὸν εὐρὺν ὀρώρει·

430

435

As when on a sounding beach the swell of the sea beats, wave after wave, before the driving of the West Wind … even in such wise on that day did the battalions of the Danaans move, rank after rank, without cease, into battle; and each captain gave charge to his own men, and the rest marched on in silence; you would not have deemed that they that followed in such multitudes had any voice in their breasts, [all silent as they were through fear of their commanders] … But for the Trojans, even as ewes stand in throngs past counting in the court of a man of much substance to be milked of their white milk, and bleat without ceasing as they near the voices of their lambs: even so arose the clamor of the Trojans throughout the wide host; Cross-References Quotation 28 Homer Il. 2.536-541 οἳ δ’ Εὔβοιαν ἔχον [μένεα πνείοντες] Ἄβαντες Χαλκίδα τ’ Εἰρέτριάν τε πολυστάφυλόν θ’ Ἱστίαιαν Κήρινθόν τ’ ἔφαλον Δίου τ’ αἰπὺ πτολίεθρον, οἵ τε Κάρυστον ἔχον ἠδ’ οἳ Στύρα ναιετάασκον, τῶν αὖθ’ ἡγεμόνευ’ Ἐλεφήνωρ ὄζος Ἄρηος Χαλκωδοντιάδης μεγαθύμων ἀρχὸς Ἀβάντων.

540

The Abantes [breathing fury] held Euboea with its cities, Khalkis, Eretria, Histiaea rich in vines, Cerinthus upon the sea, and the rock-perched town of Dion; with them were also the men of Karystos and Styra; Elephenor of the race of Ares was in command of these; he was son of Khalkodon, and chief over all the Abantes. Homer Il. 11.502-509 Ἕκτωρ μὲν μετὰ τοῖσιν ὁμίλει μέρμερα ῥέζων ἔγχεΐ θ’ ἱπποσύνῃ τε, νέων δ’ ἀλάπαζε φάλαγγας·

344 οὐδ’ ἄν πω χάζοντο κελεύθου δῖοι Ἀχαιοὶ εἰ μὴ Ἀλέξανδρος Ἑλένης πόσις ἠϋκόμοιο παῦσεν ἀριστεύοντα Μαχάονα ποιμένα λαῶν, ἰῷ τριγλώχινι βαλὼν κατὰ δεξιὸν ὦμον. τῷ ῥα περίδεισαν [μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοὶ] μή πώς μιν πολέμοιο μετακλινθέντος ἕλοιεν.

505

With these Hector was making great slaughter with the spear and in horsemanship, and he laid waste the battalions of the young men. Yet would the goodly Achaeans in no wise have given ground from their course, had not Alexander, the lord of fair-haired Helen, stayed Machaon, shepherd of the host, in the midst of his valorous deeds, and wounded him on the right shoulder with a three-barbed arrow. Then sorely did [the Achaeans breathing fury] fear for him, lest haply men should slay him in the turning of the fight. Homer Il. 24.364-369 οὐδὲ σύ γ’ ἔδεισας μένεα πνείοντας Ἀχαιούς, οἵ τοι δυσμενέες καὶ ἀνάρσιοι ἐγγὺς ἔασι; τῶν εἴ τίς σε ἴδοιτο θοὴν διὰ νύκτα μέλαιναν τοσσάδ’ ὀνείατ’ ἄγοντα, τίς ἂν δή τοι νόος εἴη; οὔτ’ αὐτὸς νέος ἐσσί, γέρων δέ τοι οὗτος ὀπηδεῖ, ἄνδρ’ ἀπαμύνασθαι, ὅτε τις πρότερος χαλεπήνῃ.

365

[Hermes to Priam:] “Are you not afraid of [the Achaeans breathing fury] who are hard by you, so cruel and relentless? Should some one of them see you bearing so much treasure through the darkness of the fleeing night, what would not your state of mind then be? You are no longer young, and he who is with you is too old to protect you from those who would attack you.” Texts Plato Rep. 3.389e8-9 [ἴσαν μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοί,] [σιγῇ δειδιότες σημάντορας,] Quotation 28 Homer Il. 3.8 οἳ δ’ ἄρ’ [ἴσαν σιγῇ μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοὶ] Quotation 29 Homer Il. 4.431

345 [σιγῇ δειδιότες σημάντορας] … Textual Differences & Interpretation Scholars have advanced many theories to explain why Plato would have placed two lines sideby-side in his text that appear in Homer in completely different books. Some of these explanations assume a textual problem. David Monro’s and Thomas Allen’s approach to the problem is perhaps the most extreme. They suggest in their critical apparatus that Plato’s text differed completely from our Homeric vulgate. They propose that Plato read <ἀνδράσιν· οἱ δ’ ἄρ’> ἴσαν μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοὶ at Il. 4.229, rather than what our text reads: ἡγεμόνων· οἳ δ’ ἄλλοι ἀκὴν ἴσαν, οὐδέ κε φαίης.177 Labarbe takes a different tact, and one commonly resorted to in his work: he claims that Plato is confused.178 Labarbe argues that Plato only meant to cite the episode of the silent march from Iliad Book 4, but instead of quoting Il. 4.429 (οἱ δ’ἄλλοι ἀκὴν ἴσαν ...) he quotes Il. 3.8 (... ἴσαν μένεα πνείοντες Ἀχαιοί) by mistake. Labarbe argues that this Platonic error arises because both passages are similar in terms of context and setting and they contain the word ἴσαν in common.179 While Labarbe’s explanation is certainly tenable, Howes provides a more likely explanation for the collocation of lines.180 His explanation, moreover, works without doing any violence to the respective integrity of the texts involved or assuming stupidity or carelessness on the part of Plato:

177

Other textual solutions are not any more satisfactory. See Labarbe (1949, 190-1) for a summary of the approaches of Hermann, who suggests that Il. 4.431 is an interpolation, and other editors. Jowett & Campbell (1894, 115-6) dismiss such suggestions as that of Monro & Allen and Hermann in summary fashion as follows: “It is improbable that we have a trace here of a Pre-Alexandrian Homer, nor is there any reason for supposing that the second verse is interpolated in the text.” 178 Labarbe 1949, 192. 179 See also Ludwich (1898, 81), who reads the passage similarly to Labarbe. 180 Howes 1895, 196.

346 It seems to me it would be unfair to Plato’s education and scholarship, to assume that he has ignorantly brought together two verses that belong to different books of the Iliad. More natural is it to think that these two parts of verses were given to illustrate the point under discussion, namely the proper relation of men to their leaders. Plato here has simply deviated from his ordinary habit of linking quoted verses together with a καί or καὶ τό. This is the only difference between the set of citations in question and that of Rep. 3.386c6-387a8, where Socrates quotes in succession Il. 20, 23, Od. 10, Il. 16, Il. 23, and Od. 24.181 Plato has linked Il. 3.8 and 4.431 so closely together here as they form a natural pair (cf. Labarbe’s remarks above) and make his philosophic point (cf. Howe’s remarks above). Taken together these lines portray the Greek soldiers in just the way Plato wants: they are selfcontrolled, obedient to their rulers, yet fierce all the same. 1) σιγῇ (3.8) [Grammatical/Syntactical Convenience / Scribal Error] Assuming that the collocation of Iliad 3.8 and 4.431 is not a mistake on Plato’s part, it seems clear that the author has dropped out σιγῇ from the citation of Il. 3.8 in order to avoid redundancy. The only other possible explanation – though quite unlikely – is that Plato kept σιγῇ in both lines, but it was later expunged from the citation of Il. 3.8 by some scribe who assumed that the redundancy was an error.182

181

See also the set of verses at Rep. 3.388c4-d1, which quote Il. 22 and 16 respectively with only an intervening καὶ. Surely there is merit, then, to the emendation proposed by Bollings (1925, 80) to add a καί between Il. 3.8 and 4.431 in Plato’s text. 182 See Howes (1895, 196) on both of these possible explanations for the absence of σιγῇ.

347 Quotation 30: Plato Rep. 3.389e13 : Homer Il. 1.225 Interpretive Context With this quotation, Socrates shifts from citing positive Homeric depictions of obedience to a negative one. In Homer, Agamemnon has just informed Achilles that he will be taking Briseis from him. Achilles considers slaying Agamemnon on the spot, but Athene, sent by Hera, dissuades him. As above (cf. Quotation 25), Zenodotus rejects the Homeric passage from which Socrates quotes, namely Il. 1.225-233.

Presumably, like Plato, he rejects the lines on moral

grounds.183 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.389e12-390a7 Τί δέ; τὰ τοιάδε-[οἰνοβαρές, κυνὸς ὄμματ’ ἔχων, κραδίην δ’ ἐλάφοιο] καὶ τὰ τούτων ἑξῆς ἆρα καλῶς, καὶ ὅσα ἄλλα τις ἐν λόγῳ ἢ ἐν ποιήσει εἴρηκε νεανιεύματα ἰδιωτῶν εἰς ἄρχοντας; Οὐ καλῶς. Οὐ γὰρ οἶμαι εἴς γε σωφροσύνην νέοις ἐπιτήδεια ἀκούειν· εἰ δέ τινα ἄλλην ἡδονὴν παρέχεται, θαυμαστὸν οὐδέν. ἢ πῶς σοι φαίνεται; Οὕτως, ἔφη.

390

5

[Socrates:] “But what about this? [‘Heavy with wine, with the eyes of a dog and the heart of a deer,’] and the rest, is it – or any other headstrong words [νεανιεύματα, a2] spoken in prose or poetry by private citizens against their rulers – well put?” [Adeimantus:] “No, they aren’t well put.” “I don’t think they are suitable for young people to hear – not, in any case, with a view for making them moderate. Though it isn’t surprising that they are pleasing [ἡδονὴν, a5] enough in other ways. What do you think?” “The same as you.” Homer Il. 1.223-232 183

Labarbe 1949, 193.

348 Πηλεί̈δης δ’ ἐξαῦτις ἀταρτηροῖς ἐπέεσσιν Ἀτρεί̈δην προσέειπε, καὶ οὔ πω λῆγε χόλοιο· [οἰνοβαρές, κυνὸς ὄμματ’ ἔχων, κραδίην δ’ ἐλάφοιο,] οὔτέ ποτ’ ἐς πόλεμον ἅμα λαῷ θωρηχθῆναι οὔτε λόχον δ’ ἰέναι σὺν ἀριστήεσσιν Ἀχαιῶν τέτληκας θυμῷ· τὸ δέ τοι κὴρ εἴδεται εἶναι. ἦ πολὺ λώϊόν ἐστι κατὰ στρατὸν εὐρὺν Ἀχαιῶν δῶρ’ ἀποαιρεῖσθαι ὅς τις σέθεν ἀντίον εἴπῃ· δημοβόρος βασιλεὺς ἐπεὶ οὐτιδανοῖσιν ἀνάσσεις·

225

230

But the son of Peleus again addressed with violent words the son of Atreus, and in no way ceased from his wrath: [Heavy with wine, with the eyes of a dog and the heart of a deer,] never have you had courage to arm for battle along with your people, or go forth to an ambush with the chiefs of the Achaeans. That seems to you even as death. Indeed it is far better throughout the wide camp of the Achaeans to deprive of his prize whoever speaks contrary to you. People-devouring king, since you rule over nobodies… Interpretation The key to understanding the force of this citation is considering it in the context of the argument of the Republic. Socrates does not object to this Homeric passage in any way on aesthetic grounds. He admits that “[the words] are pleasing enough in other ways” (εἰ δέ τινα ἄλλην ἡδονὴν παρέχεται, a5). Yet, considering poetry purely in terms of social utility – the primary focus of the Republic – such lines “certainly are not suitable for youth to hear for the inculcation of self-control” (Οὐ γὰρ οἶμαι εἴς γε σωφροσύνην νέοις ἐπιτήδεια ἀκούειν, a4). The irony of the passage in the Platonic context is that while Socrates cites the passage as a negative exemplar of soldierly disobedience, Achilles is, in fact, entirely obedient to an authority higher than Agamemnon, the goddess Athene. When Athene learns of Achilles’ intention of killing Agamemnon, she tells him verbal abuse is acceptable but physical violence is not. Achilles obeys the goddess immediately.184 As usual, however, Plato has the advantage of 184

Achilles’ motives for obeying Athene, incidentally, are thoroughly wrong-headed according to the theological tenets as set forth by Socrates in the Republic. He obeys Athene out of self-

349 alluding to as little or as much of the broader Homeric context as suits his purpose. Certainly to a listener who is not terribly careful or well-versed in Homer, the lines of Achilles as quoted by Socrates are clear examples of insubordination, not to be imitated. Finally, we have to wonder if Plato’s Socrates cites Achilles’ insubordination to political authority with some measure of irony. It is Socrates, after all, who tells the Athenians at Apology 29 that he would fulfill his mission to the god even if it meant that he would disobey the civil authority. But whereas Achilles’ insubordination is carried out via anger, an emotion Socrates characterizes as “without calculation” (ἀλογίστως, Rep. 4.441c2), Socrates is the reasoning hero par excellence.185

Quotation 31: Plato Rep. 3.390d4-5 : Homer Od. 20.17-18 (Cf. Plato Phaedo 94d8-e1) & Quotation 32: Plato Rep. 4.441b6 : Homer Od. 20.17 (Cf. Plato Phaedo 94d8-e1) Interpretive Context Socrates quotes Od. 20.17 two separate times. In the first instance, at Rep. 3.390d4-5, he quotes Od. 20.17 as part of a string of quotations on obedience, offering up the behavior of Odysseus as a positive example of self-restraint. In this first instance, Socrates also quotes line 18 in addition to Od. 20.17. In his second quotation of Od. 20.17, Socrates recalls his earlier use of the phrase interest, saying, “Whoever obeys the gods, to him do they gladly give ear” (ὅς κε θεοῖς ἐπιπείθηται μάλα τ᾽ ἔκλυον αὐτοῦ, Il. 1.218), a violation of tupos 1, Socrates’ principle of divine immutability (cf. Quotation 7). 185 For more on Socrates as a philosophic hero, see Quotation 11, Interpretation.

350 explicitly, introducing the citation by saying “Besides, our earlier quotation from Homer bears it out, where he says ... (καὶ ὃ ἄνω που [ἐκεῖ] εἴπομεν, τὸ τοῦ Ὁμήρου μαρτυρήσει, τὸ ..., Rep. 4.441b4-5). Here, however, Socrates takes Homer’s description of Odysseus’ internal conflict, his decision-making process, as “evidence” in Homer in favor of his tripartite model of the human soul. In similar fashion, Socrates quotes Od. 20.17-18 at Phaedo 94d8-e1 to support his contention that the soul is not in harmony with the body, but rather rules over it as it “hold[s] converse with desires and passions and fears [ἐπιθυμίαις καὶ ὀργαῖς καὶ φόβοις]” (Phaedo 94d5-6). In the Odyssey, Odysseus is lying sleepless in his halls, tossing and turning not unlike Achilles above in Quotation 20. Odysseus is considering how he will bring vengeance upon the suitors and the other faithless members of his household. Homer compares Odysseus to a dog that growls at a stranger and is eager for a fight (cf. Od. 20.14-16), a passage perhaps that Plato had in mind when he compared the nature of a good guardian to that of a watchdog.186 At any rate, Odysseus shows restraint. Unlike Achilles in Quotation 30 above, Odysseus does not require divine intervention to stay him from the rash murder of his enemies. Just as was the case in the Cyclops episode from Book 9 of the Odyssey, which Odysseus himself recalls (Od. 20.1921), Odysseus relies on his “wit” (μῆτις, 20) once again. In the lines Socrates quotes, he strikes his breast and commands himself to endure, to wait for the right time to seek his revenge. Original Context Quotation 31 186

Rep. 2.375d-376b; 5.451d. Indeed, the Homeric metaphor could not work any better for Plato had he chosen it for himself. Though Odysseus is no philosopher, he has (in this respect at least) a philosophic nature, not unlike that which Socrates ascribes to dogs (cf. τὸ πάθος αὐτοῦ τῆς φύσεως καὶ ὡς ἀληθῶς φιλόσοφον, Rep. 2.376a11-b1).

351 Plato Rep. 3.390d1-5 Ἀλλ’ εἴ πού τινες, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, καρτερίαι πρὸς ἅπαντα καὶ λέγονται καὶ πράττονται ὑπὸ ἐλλογίμων ἀνδρῶν, θεατέον τε καὶ ἀκουστέον, οἷον καὶ τὸ-[στῆθος δὲ πλήξας κραδίην ἠνίπαπε187 μύθῳ· τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη· καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο ποτ’ ἔτλης.]

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[Socrates:] “But if, on the other hand, there are words or deeds of famous men, who are exhibiting endurance in the face of everything, surely they must be seen or heard. For example: [‘But he struck his breast, and rebuked his heart, saying: “Endure, my heart; a worse thing even than this did you once endure.’”] Quotation 32 Plato Rep. 4.440e10-441c3 ἢ καθάπερ ἐν τῇ πόλει συνεῖχεν αὐτὴν τρία ὄντα γένη, χρηματιστικόν, ἐπικουρητικόν, βουλευτικόν, οὕτως καὶ ἐν ψυχῇ τρίτον τοῦτό ἐστι τὸ θυμοειδές, ἐπίκουρον ὂν τῷ λογιστικῷ φύσει, ἐὰν μὴ ὑπὸ κακῆς τροφῆς διαφθαρῇ; Ἀνάγκη, ἔφη, τρίτον. Ναί, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ἄν γε τοῦ λογιστικοῦ ἄλλο τι φανῇ, ὥσπερ τοῦ ἐπιθυμητικοῦ ἐφάνη ἕτερον ὄν. Ἀλλ’ οὐ χαλεπόν, ἔφη, φανῆναι· καὶ γὰρ ἐν τοῖς παιδίοις τοῦτό γ’ ἄν τις ἴδοι, ὅτι θυμοῦ μὲν εὐθὺς γενόμενα μεστά ἐστι, λογισμοῦ δ’ ἔνιοι μὲν ἔμοιγε δοκοῦσιν οὐδέποτε μεταλαμβάνειν, οἱ δὲ πολλοὶ ὀψέ ποτε. Ναὶ μὰ Δί’, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, καλῶς γε εἶπες. ἔτι δὲ ἐν τοῖς θηρίοις ἄν τις ἴδοι ὃ λέγεις, ὅτι οὕτως ἔχει. πρὸς δὲ τούτοις καὶ ὃ ἄνω που [ἐκεῖ] εἴπομεν, τὸ τοῦ Ὁμήρου μαρτυρήσει, τὸ-[στῆθος δὲ πλήξας κραδίην ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ·] ἐνταῦθα γὰρ δὴ σαφῶς ὡς ἕτερον ἑτέρῳ ἐπιπλῆττον πεποίηκεν Ὅμηρος τὸ ἀναλογισάμενον περὶ τοῦ βελτίονός τε 187

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While F and T2 and B2 (interlinearly) agree with Homer and the secondary tradition reading ἠνίπατε, Labarbe (1949, 194) reports that A gives us the alternate reading ἠνείπατε, a reading, presumably because it is clearly in error, that does not appear in Slings’ apparatus. This odd reading does, however, appear again at Phaedo 94d8 where Od. 20.17 is also quoted. In the Phaedo, B T W read ἠνείπατε, whereas Y and Stobaeus read ἠνίπατε with Homer. Labarbe (1949, 194) hypothesizes that ἠνείπατε was written as a reminder that the iota of ἠνίπατε is long. Another possible explanation is that a nu has dropped out of the Attic reduplicated aorist form of the verb: ἠνενίπαπε. Besides Labarbe, no other editors comment on the alternate reading ἠνείπατε.

352 καὶ χείρονος τῷ ἀλογίστως θυμουμένῳ. Κομιδῇ, ἔφη, ὀρθῶς λέγεις. [Socrates:] “Or rather, just as there were three classes in the city that held it together, the moneymaking, the auxiliary, and the deliberative, is the spirited part [θυμοειδές, a2] a third thing in the soul that is by nature the helper of the rational part [λογιστικῷ, a3], provided that it hasn’t been corrupted by a bad upbringing?” [Glaucon:] “It must be a third.” “Yes, provided that we can show it is different from the rational part [λογιστικοῦ, a5], as we saw earlier it was from the appetitive one [ἐπιθυμητικοῦ, a6].” “It isn’t difficult to show that it is different. Even in small children, one can see that they are full of spirit [θυμοῦ, a8] right from birth, while as far as rational calculation [λογισμοῦ, a9] is concerned, some never seem to get a share of it, while the majority do so quite late.” “That’s really well put. And in animals too one can see that what you say is true. Besides, our earlier quotation from Homer bears it out, where he says, [‘But he struck his breast, and rebuked his heart, saying:’] For here Homer clearly represents the part that has calculated [ἀναλογισάμενον, c1] about better and worse as different from that part that is spirited without calculation [τῷ ἀλογίστως θυμουμένῳ, c2].” “That’s exactly right.” Homer Od. 20.5-30 ἔνθ’ Ὀδυσεὺς μνηστῆρσι κακὰ φρονέων ἐνὶ θυμῷ κεῖτ’ ἐγρηγορόων· ταὶ δ’ ἐκ μεγάροιο γυναῖκες ἤϊσαν, αἳ μνηστῆρσιν ἐμισγέσκοντο πάρος περ, ἀλλήλῃσι γέλω τε καὶ εὐφροσύνην παρέχουσαι. τοῦ δ’ ὠρίνετο θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι· πολλὰ δὲ μερμήριζε κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν, ἠὲ μεταί̈ξας θάνατον τεύξειεν ἑκάστῃ, ἦ ἔτ’ ἐῷ μνηστῆρσιν ὑπερφιάλοισι μιγῆναι ὕστατα καὶ πύματα, κραδίη δέ οἱ ἔνδον ὑλάκτει. ὡς δὲ κύων ἀμαλῇσι περὶ σκυλάκεσσι βεβῶσα ἄνδρ’ ἀγνοιήσασ’ ὑλάει μέμονέν τε μάχεσθαι, ὥς ῥα τοῦ ἔνδον ὑλάκτει ἀγαιομένου κακὰ ἔργα· [στῆθος δὲ πλήξας κραδίην ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ· “τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη· καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο ποτ’ ἔτλης.] ἤματι τῷ ὅτε μοι μένος ἄσχετος ἤσθιε Κύκλωψ ἰφθίμους ἑτάρους· σὺ δ’ ἐτόλμας, ὄφρα σε μῆτις ἐξάγαγ’ ἐξ ἄντροιο ὀϊόμενον θανέεσθαι.” ὣς ἔφατ’, ἐν στήθεσσι καθαπτόμενος φίλον ἦτορ· τῷ δὲ μάλ’ ἐν πείσῃ κραδίη μένε τετληυῖα νωλεμέως· ἀτὰρ αὐτὸς ἑλίσσετο ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα. ὡς δ’ ὅτε γαστέρ’ ἀνὴρ πολέος πυρὸς αἰθομένοιο,

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353 ἐμπλείην κνίσης τε καὶ αἵματος, ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα αἰόλλῃ, μάλα δ’ ὦκα λιλαίεται ὀπτηθῆναι, ὣς ἄρ’ ὅ γ’ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα ἑλίσσετο, μερμηρίζων ὅππως δὴ μνηστῆρσιν ἀναιδέσι χεῖρας ἐφήσει μοῦνος ἐὼν πολέσι …

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There Odysseus, pondering in his heart [φρονέων ἐνὶ θυμῷ, 5] evil for the wooers, lay sleepless. And the women came forth from the hall, those that had before been wont to lie with the wooers, making laughter and merriment among themselves. But the heart [θυμὸς, 9] was stirred in his breast, and much he debated in mind and heart [κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν, 10], whether he should rush after them and deal death to each, or suffer them to lie with the insolent wooers for the last and latest time; and his heart [κραδίη, 13] growled within him. And as a dog stands over her tender whelps growling, when she sees a man she does not know, and is eager to fight, so his heart growled within him in his wrath at their evil deeds; [but he struck his breast, and rebuked his heart, saying: “Endure, my heart; a worse thing even than this did you once endure] on that day when the Cyclops, unrestrained in daring, devoured my mighty comrades; but you did endure until craft [μῆτις, 20] got you forth from the cave where you thought to die.” So he spoke, chiding the heart [ἦτορ, 22] in his breast, and his heart [κραδίη, 23] remained bound within him to endure steadfastly; but he himself lay tossing this way and that. And as when a man before a great blazing fire turns swiftly this way and that a paunch full of fat and blood, and is very eager to have it roasted quickly, so Odysseus tossed from side to side, pondering how he might put forth his hands upon the shameless wooers, one man as he was against so many. Cross-References Plato Phaedo 94b4-8, b10-c2, c10-95a3 Τί δέ; ἦ δ᾽ ὅς· τῶν ἐν ἀνθρώπῳ πάντων ἔσθ᾽ ὅτι ἄλλο λέγεις ἄρχειν ἢ ψυχὴν ἄλλως τε καὶ φρόνιμον; Οὐκ ἔγωγε. Πότερον συγχωροῦσαν τοῖς κατὰ τὸ σῶμα πάθεσιν ἢ καὶ ἐναντιουμένην; ... καὶ ἄλλα μυρία που ὁρῶμεν ἐναντιουμένην τὴν ψυχὴν τοῖς κατὰ τὸ σῶμα· ἢ οὔ; Πάνυ μὲν οὖν. ... Tί οὖν; νῦν ... φαίνεται ... ἡγεμονεύουσά τε ἐκείνων πάντων ἐξ ὧν φησί τις αὐτὴν εἶναι, καὶ ἐναντιουμένη ὀλίγου πάντα διὰ παντὸς τοῦ βίου καὶ δεσπόζουσα πάντας τρόπους, τὰ μὲν χαλεπώτερον κολάζουσα καὶ μετ᾽ ἀλγηδόνων, τά τε κατὰ τὴν γυμναστικὴν καὶ τὴν ἰατρικήν, τὰ δὲ πρᾳότερον, καὶ τὰ μὲν ἀπειλοῦσα, τὰ δὲ νουθετοῦσα, ταῖς ἐπιθυμίαις καὶ ὀργαῖς καὶ φόβοις ὡς ἄλλη

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354 οὖσα ἄλλῳ πράγματι διαλεγομένη; οἷόν που καὶ Ὅμηρος ἐν Ὀδυσσείᾳ πεποίηκεν, οὗ λέγει τὸν Ὀδυσσέα· [“στῆθος δὲ πλήξας κραδίην ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ· τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη· καὶ κύντερον ἄλλο ποτ᾽ ἔτλης.”] e ἆρ᾽ οἴει αὐτὸν ταῦτα ποιῆσαι διανοούμενον ὡς ἁρμονίας αὐτῆς οὔσης καὶ οἵας ἄγεσθαι ὑπὸ τῶν τοῦ σώματος παθημάτων, ἀλλ᾽ οὐχ οἵας ἄγειν τε ταῦτα καὶ δεσπόζειν, καὶ οὔσης αὐτῆς πολὺ θειοτέρου τινὸς πράγματος ἢ καθ᾽ 5 ἁρμονίαν; Nὴ Δία, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ. Oὐκ ἄρα, ὦ ἄριστε, ἡμῖν οὐδαμῇ καλῶς ἔχει ψυχὴν ἁρμονίαν τινὰ φάναι εἶναι· οὔτε γὰρ ἄν, ὡς ἔοικεν, Ὁμήρῳ 95 θείῳ ποιητῇ ὁμολογοῖμεν οὔτε αὐτοὶ ἡμῖν αὐτοῖς. Ἔχει οὕτως, ἔφη. [Socrates:] “Further, of all the parts of a man, can you mention any other part that rules him than his soul [ψυχὴν], especially if it is a wise [φρόνιμον] soul?” [Simmias:] “I cannot.” “Does it do so by following the affectations [πάθεσιν] of the body or by opposing them? ... and we see a thousand other examples of the soul opposing the affectations of the body. Is that not so?” “It certainly is.” ... [Socrates:] “Well, does [the soul] now appear ... to rule over all the elements of which one says it is composed, opposing nearly all of them throughout life, directing all their ways, inflicting harsh and painful punishment on them, at times in physical culture and medicine, at other times more gently by threats and exhortations, holding converse with desires and passions and fears [ἐπιθυμίαις καὶ ὀργαῖς καὶ φόβοις] as if it were one thing taking to a different one, as Homer wrote somewhere in the Odyssey where he says of Odysseus: [‘but he struck his breast, and rebuked his heart, saying: “Endure, my heart; a worse thing even than this did you once endure.’] Do you think that when he composed this the poet thought that his soul was a harmony [ἁρμονίας], a thing to be directed by the affectations [παθημάτων] of the body? Did he not rather regard it as ruling over them and mastering them, itself a much more divine thing [θειοτέρου] than a harmony?” [Simmias:] “Yes, by Zeus, I think so, Socrates.” “Therefore, my good friend, it is quite wrong for us to say that the soul is a harmony [ψυχὴν ἁρμονίαν τινὰ], and in saying so we would disagree both with the divine [θείῳ] poet Homer and with ourselves.” “That is so, he said.” Interpretation

355 In the same way that Diomedes above (cf. Quotation 27) offered a favorable contrast to Achilles, Odysseus does so here. Unlike Achilles, who in Socrates’ explanation of human development is ruled by his thumos much like a child (or worse yet an animal),188 Odysseus establishes reason as the leader of his soul (at least as Socrates reads Od. 20.17-18).189 We have already seen in our treatment of Allusion 15 that Socrates generally has a positive critical assessment of the character of Odysseus.190 In his first use of Od. 20.17, Socrates highlights the most important sort of obedience in his opinion, that of the “lesser” elements of the soul taking commands, without question, from reason. It is fitting for Plato’s purposes that in the original Homeric context, the poet uses a metaphor referring to bodily appetite when he describes Odysseus’ internal conflict. Homer compares Odysseus to a man who sits before a blazing fire, eager to see his dinner roasted quickly so he can eat immediately. In the same way, Odysseus will use his reason to stay his emotional desire to take vengeance on the suitors before the opportune time. According to Socrates, such decision making as that of Odysseus can only arise if the emotional element of the soul has been cultivated properly through education: “the spirited part [θυμοειδές, a2] is a third thing in the soul that is by nature the helper of the rational part [λογιστικῷ, a4], provided that it

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Rep. 4.440a7-b1: “Even in small children, one can see that they are full of spirit [θυμοῦ, a8] right from birth, while as far as rational calculation [λογισμοῦ, a9] is concerned, some never seem to get a share of it, while the majority do so quite late.” 189 On the danger from a Platonic perspective of Achilles’ honor-loving and attachment to the thumos, see esp. Hobbs (1990, 204-5) with further bibliography there. 190 On Odysseus’ philosophic nature, see Stanford ([1968] 1992, 104-8, 121-2). For further parallels between Odysseus and the philosopher, see Segal (1978, 321-3, 333-5); within the writings of Plato, see Symp. 220c2, where Alcibiades quotes from Od. 4.242, 271, thus implicitly likening Socrates’ endurance to that of “strong-hearted” Odysseus. Lampert (2010, 24, 130, 303, 334, 401 ff.) in particular makes much of the comparisons of Socrates to Odysseus in Plato’s corpus, following in no small measure Benardete (1963, 173; 2008).

356 hasn’t been corrupted by a bad upbringing.” (Rep. 4.441a2-3). Odysseus, unlike Achilles, has learned to put his emotions in the service of reason rather than vice versa. Socrates uses Od. 20.17 to much different effect at Rep. 4.441b6. Here he uses Homer “to prove” his own tripartite model of the human soul, arguing that Odysseus stays his “breast” (στῆθος) and “heart” (κραδίην) through the application of reason as the leading principle in his soul. To be sure, Plato has Socrates take serious liberties with the meaning and original intent of the Homeric text. Now, not only does Socrates take the Homeric terms for the seat(s) of human emotion (cf. στῆθος ... κραδίην, Il. 20.18, 19) as univocal with his own (cf. θυμοειδές, Rep. 4.441a2), but he also takes advantage of Homer’s authority – an authority elsewhere in the Republic he will criticize and degrade mercilessly – to prove a philosophic point that was never intended in the original Homeric context. In so doing, Plato is able to have his cake and eat it, too. When it suits him, as here, he can “use” Homer out-of-context to support his philosophic views; elsewhere he can erode the authority of the “divine bard” by pointing out his “false” or “lying” depictions of the gods and heroes. In similar fashion, Socrates uses Od. 20.17-18 at Phaedo 94d8-e1. Here he uses Homer to support his philosophical theories on the relationship between the soul and “the affectations of the body” (τῶν τοῦ σώματος παθημάτων, e3).191 He wishes to point out to Simmias that it is inconsistent to consider the soul as a harmony of mind and body – and therefore dependent on physicality – and as immortal. Instead, Socrates argues that the soul leads the body rather than 191

See Halliwell (2000, 102-3), who briefly treats this citation as follows: Socrates’ construal of the text, which allows him to produce it as testimony to a certain kind of psychological theory, depends upon the discernment of a poetic ‘thought’ or even ‘meaning’ (dianoia < dianoeisthai 94e2) implicit in both the description and the dramatization of Odysseus’s state of mind. On this interpretation, the speech may be Odysseus’ but the ideas in it are just as much ‘Homer’s’ as is the narrative framework: the poet is held responsible, in a more than creative or causal sense of the word, for both.

357 acts in harmony with it. To add color and authority to his point he quotes the words from Homer as above, but in typical Socratic, ironic style pretends to have much less familiarity with the text than is clearly the case, saying the quotation appears “somewhere” (που, Rep. 4.441d6) in the Odyssey. Socrates’ playfulness here underlies a serious attempt on the part of Plato to use poetry wherever possible as a sort of thumoeidic ally to his philosophic aims.

Allusion 19: Plato Rep. 10.620c2-3 : Homer Il. 2.211-277 (Cf. Allusions 3 & 15) Interpretive Context In Plato, Thersites is the second to last figure mentioned in The Myth of Er, following Epeius (cf. Allusion 3), but preceding Odysseus (cf. Allusion 15). Like several of the souls before him, Thersites chooses the soul of an animal, specifically that of an ape. In Homer, Thersites is an unusual figure. As is well-noted in Homeric scholarship, he is the only character in the Iliad who is not distinguished by a patronymic or toponymic. Yet, the poet lavishes more detail describing his physical appearance and speaking ability than any other character in the Iliad. Thersites’ famous speech in the Iliad comes out-of-turn in council at an important turning point in the war. To test the mettle of his troops, Agamemnon has misreported the dream sent to him by Zeus the night before (cf. Allusion 11). Instead of reporting the actual message of the dream – that the Greeks would take Troy the following day – Agamemnon says instead that the time has come to return home. Thersites seizes on this opportunity to attempt to raise a laugh among the rest of the soldiers by bitterly mocking Agamemnon’s greed and

358 Achilles’ earlier complaint against the chieftain (see more detailed commentary on these points below). As is so often the case with Platonic criticisms of Homer, they are (seemingly) imitated by Alexandrian scholars. Zenodotus rejects Il. 2. 227-228 and 231-234, apparently taking issue with the comic or sarcastic tone of these lines, an ill fit for the gravity of epic generally and the social decorum of heroic assembly. Original Context Plato Rep. 10.620c2-3192 ... πόρρω δ᾽ ἐν ὑστάτοις ἰδεῖν τὴν τοῦ γελωτοποιοῦ [Θερσίτου] πίθηκον ἐνδυομένην ... And very close to the last, he saw the soul of the ridiculous [Thersites] clothing itself as an ape. Homer Il. 2.211-251, 257-277 ἄλλοι μέν ῥ᾽ ἕζοντο, ἐρήτυθεν δὲ καθ᾽ ἕδρας· [Θερσίτης] δ᾽ ἔτι μοῦνος ἀμετροεπὴς ἐκολῴα, ὃς ἔπεα φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἄκοσμά τε πολλά τε ᾔδη μάψ, ἀτὰρ οὐ κατὰ κόσμον, ἐριζέμεναι βασιλεῦσιν, ἀλλ᾽ ὅ τι οἱ εἴσαιτο γελοίϊον Ἀργείοισιν ἔμμεναι· αἴσχιστος δὲ ἀνὴρ ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθε· φολκὸς ἔην, χωλὸς δ᾽ ἕτερον πόδα· τὼ δέ οἱ ὤμω κυρτὼ ἐπὶ στῆθος συνοχωκότε· αὐτὰρ ὕπερθε φοξὸς ἔην κεφαλήν, ψεδνὴ δ᾽ ἐπενήνοθε λάχνη. ἔχθιστος δ᾽ Ἀχιλῆϊ μάλιστ᾽ ἦν ἠδ᾽ Ὀδυσῆϊ· τὼ γὰρ νεικείεσκε· τότ᾽ αὖτ᾽ Ἀγαμέμνονι δίῳ ὀξέα κεκλήγων λέγ᾽ ὀνείδεα· τῷ δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ Ἀχαιοὶ ἐκπάγλως κοτέοντο νεμέσσηθέν τ᾽ ἐνὶ θυμῷ. αὐτὰρ ὃ μακρὰ βοῶν Ἀγαμέμνονα νείκεε μύθῳ· Ἀτρεΐδη τέο δ᾽ αὖτ᾽ ἐπιμέμφεαι ἠδὲ χατίζεις; πλεῖαί τοι χαλκοῦ κλισίαι, πολλαὶ δὲ γυναῖκες εἰσὶν ἐνὶ κλισίῃς ἐξαίρετοι, ἅς τοι Ἀχαιοὶ πρωτίστῳ δίδομεν εὖτ᾽ ἂν πτολίεθρον ἕλωμεν. ἦ ἔτι καὶ χρυσοῦ ἐπιδεύεαι, ὅν κέ τις οἴσει 192

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359 Τρώων ἱπποδάμων ἐξ Ἰλίου υἷος ἄποινα, ὅν κεν ἐγὼ δήσας ἀγάγω ἢ ἄλλος Ἀχαιῶν, ἠὲ γυναῖκα νέην, ἵνα μίσγεαι ἐν φιλότητι, ἥν τ᾽ αὐτὸς ἀπονόσφι κατίσχεαι; οὐ μὲν ἔοικεν ἀρχὸν ἐόντα κακῶν ἐπιβασκέμεν υἷας Ἀχαιῶν. ὦ πέπονες κάκ᾽ ἐλέγχε᾽ Ἀχαιΐδες οὐκέτ᾽ Ἀχαιοὶ οἴκαδέ περ σὺν νηυσὶ νεώμεθα, τόνδε δ᾽ ἐῶμεν αὐτοῦ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ γέρα πεσσέμεν, ὄφρα ἴδηται ἤ ῥά τί οἱ χἠμεῖς προσαμύνομεν ἦε καὶ οὐκί· ὃς καὶ νῦν Ἀχιλῆα ἕο μέγ᾽ ἀμείνονα φῶτα ἠτίμησεν· ἑλὼν γὰρ ἔχει γέρας αὐτὸς ἀπούρας. ἀλλὰ μάλ᾽ οὐκ Ἀχιλῆϊ χόλος φρεσίν, ἀλλὰ μεθήμων· ἦ γὰρ ἂν Ἀτρεΐδη νῦν ὕστατα λωβήσαιο· ὣς φάτο νεικείων Ἀγαμέμνονα ποιμένα λαῶν, [Θερσίτης·] τῷ δ᾽ ὦκα παρίστατο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς, καί μιν ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν χαλεπῷ ἠνίπαπε μύθῳ· [Θερσῖτ᾽] ἀκριτόμυθε, λιγύς περ ἐὼν ἀγορητής, ἴσχεο, μηδ᾽ ἔθελ᾽ οἶος ἐριζέμεναι βασιλεῦσιν· οὐ γὰρ ἐγὼ σέο φημὶ χερειότερον βροτὸν ἄλλον ἔμμεναι, ὅσσοι ἅμ᾽ Ἀτρεΐδῃς ὑπὸ Ἴλιον ἦλθον. τὼ οὐκ ἂν βασιλῆας ἀνὰ στόμ᾽ ἔχων ἀγορεύοις, καί σφιν ὀνείδεά τε προφέροις, νόστόν τε φυλάσσοις. ... ἀλλ᾽ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, τὸ δὲ καὶ τετελεσμένον ἔσται· εἴ κ᾽ ἔτι ς᾽ ἀφραίνοντα κιχήσομαι ὥς νύ περ ὧδε, μηκέτ᾽ ἔπειτ᾽ Ὀδυσῆϊ κάρη ὤμοισιν ἐπείη, μηδ᾽ ἔτι Τηλεμάχοιο πατὴρ κεκλημένος εἴην, εἰ μὴ ἐγώ σε λαβὼν ἀπὸ μὲν φίλα εἵματα δύσω, χλαῖνάν τ᾽ ἠδὲ χιτῶνα, τά τ᾽ αἰδῶ ἀμφικαλύπτει, αὐτὸν δὲ κλαίοντα θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας ἀφήσω πεπλήγων ἀγορῆθεν ἀεικέσσι πληγῇσιν. ὣς ἄρ᾽ ἔφη, σκήπτρῳ δὲ μετάφρενον ἠδὲ καὶ ὤμω πλῆξεν· ὃ δ᾽ ἰδνώθη, θαλερὸν δέ οἱ ἔκπεσε δάκρυ· σμῶδιξ δ᾽ αἱματόεσσα μεταφρένου ἐξυπανέστη σκήπτρου ὕπο χρυσέου· ὃ δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἕζετο τάρβησέν τε, ἀλγήσας δ᾽ ἀχρεῖον ἰδὼν ἀπομόρξατο δάκρυ. οἳ δὲ καὶ ἀχνύμενοί περ ἐπ᾽ αὐτῷ ἡδὺ γέλασσαν· ὧδε δέ τις εἴπεσκεν ἰδὼν ἐς πλησίον ἄλλον· ὢ πόποι ἦ δὴ μυρί᾽ Ὀδυσσεὺς ἐσθλὰ ἔοργε βουλάς τ᾽ ἐξάρχων ἀγαθὰς πόλεμόν τε κορύσσων· νῦν δὲ τόδε μέγ᾽ ἄριστον ἐν Ἀργείοισιν ἔρεξεν, ὃς τὸν λωβητῆρα ἐπεσβόλον ἔσχ᾽ ἀγοράων. οὔ θήν μιν πάλιν αὖτις ἀνήσει θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ νεικείειν βασιλῆας ὀνειδείοις ἐπέεσσιν.

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360 Now the others sat them down and were stayed in their places, only there still kept chattering on [Thersites] of measureless [ἀμετροεπὴς, 212] speech, whose mind was full of great store of disorderly [οὐ κατὰ κόσμον, 214] words, wherewith to utter revilings against the kings, idly, and in no orderly wise, but whatsoever he deemed would raise a laugh [γελοίϊον, 215] among the Argives. Evil-favored was he beyond all men that came to Ilios: he was bandy-legged and lame in the one foot, and his two shoulders were rounded, stooping together over his chest, and above them his head was warped, and a scant stubble grew thereon. Hateful was he to Achilles above all, and to Odysseus, for it was both of them that he was wont to revile; but now again with shrill cries he uttered abuse against goodly Agamemnon. With him were the Achaeans exceeding wroth, and had indignation in their hearts. Howbeit with loud shoutings he spoke and chided Agamemnon: “Son of Atreus, with what are you now again discontent, or what do you lack? Filled are your huts with bronze, and women full many are in your huts, chosen spoils that we Achaeans give you first of all, whensoever we take a citadel. Or do you still want gold also, which some man of the horse-taming Trojans shall bring you out of Ilios as a ransom for his son, whom I haply have bound and led away or some other of the Achaeans? Or is it some young girl for you to know in love, whom you will keep apart for yourself? Nay, it is not right for one that is their captain to bring ill to the sons of the Achaeans. Soft fools! Base things of shame, you women of Achaea, men no more, homeward let us go with our ships, and leave this fellow here in the land of Troy to digest his prizes, that so he may learn whether in us too there is any aid for him or no—for him that has now done dishonor to Achilles, a man better far than he; for he has taken away, and keeps his prize by his own arrogant act. Of a surety there is nothing but wrath in the heart of Achilles; nay, he heeds nothing at all; else, son of Atreus, would you now work insolence for the last time.” So spoke [Thersites,] railing at Agamemnon, shepherd of the host. But quickly to his side came goodly Odysseus, and with an angry glance from beneath his brows, chided him with harsh words, saying: [“Thersites] of reckless speech, clear-voiced talker though you art, refrain, and be not minded to strive singly against kings. For I deem that there is no viler mortal than you amongst all those that with the sons of Atreus came beneath Ilios. Wherefore it would be well that you should not take the name of kings in your mouth as you protest, to cast reproaches upon them, and to watch for home-going In no wise do we know clearly as yet how these things are to be, whether it be for good or ill that we sons of the Achaeans shall return. ... But I will speak out to you, and this word shall verily be brought to pass: if I find you again playing the fool, as you do now, then may the head of Odysseus abide no more upon his shoulders, nor may I any more be called the father of Telemachus, if I do not take you, and strip off your raiment, your cloak, and the tunic that covers your nakedness, and send you wailing to the swift ships, beaten forth from the place of gathering with shameful blows. So spoke Odysseus, and with his staff struck his back and shoulders; and Thersites cowered down, and a big tear fell from him, and a bloody weal rose up on his back beneath the staff of gold. Then he sat down, and fear came upon him, and stung by pain with helpless looks he wiped away the tear. But the Achaeans, sore vexed at heart though they were, broke into a merry laugh at him, and thus would one speak with a glance at his neighbor: “Out upon it! verily has Odysseus now done good deeds without number as leader in good counsel and setting battle in army, but now is this deed far the best that he has done among the Argives, seeing he has made this scurrilous babbler to cease from his prating. Never again, I suppose, will his proud spirit [θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ, 276] henceforth set him on to rail at kings with words of reviling.”

361

Interpretation Thersites’ name, with its etymological relation to θάρσος (or better its Aeolic form θέρσος)193 presages the boldness or rashness of his insubordination, his lack of restraint in the face of authority. Contributing to this moral failure, surely in Plato’s reading of the passage, is Thersites’ excessive interest in the laughable. It is also certainly not to Thersites’ credit (especially in the Homeric context) that Thersites is extremely unattractive, “a monstrosity by heroic standards,” as Kirk puts it.194 While it is apparently his habit to mock his betters,195 in this episode Thersites only gains laughs at his own expense: Odysseus beats him for insubordination much to the delight of the rest of the troops. Further, his parody of Achilles’ complaint against Agamemnon falls flat.196 If Achilles is set up as a negative exemplar in the Republic, Thersites is something even worse. Achilles is at least an original actor. Thersites is a mere imitator; he “apes” Achilles for the rest of the army, saying that they should all cease fighting, that they should all be as offended

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Kirk 1985, ad Il. 2.212. Kirk 1985, ad. Il. 2.219. 195 See the iterative form νεικείεσκε (Il. 2.221). Scholars who call Thersites “a common soldier,” seem to err. On this point and for further bibliography see Marks (2005). Although Thersites is not distinguished by a patronymic, he is a kinsman of Diomedes and clearly of noble blood. Kirk (1985, ad Il. 2.212) puts it best saying, “the omission of both patronymic and city or region is intended, rather, to distinguish this outrageous person -- who would not be permitted to open his mouth in assembly if he were a common soldier, except to roar approval or occasional dissent.” It is Thersites’ style of speech, his role as jester and short-comings as a warrior – not to mention his physical deformity – that place him socially well below the likes of Achilles and Odysseus. On this point see Martin (1989, 111): “[Thersites] does not have the heroic martial performance record to back up his words,” a modern opinion which mirrors more or less the ancient opinion of Quintilian (11.1.37), who argues that Thersites’ comments in the mouth of an upstanding warrior may very well have held sway. 196 On the parodic nature of Thersites’ speech, see Whitman (1965, 161), Willcock (1976, ad loc.), Postlethwaite (1988), Thalmann (1988, 19 ff.), Scodel (2002, 208), and Barker (2009, 60). 194

362 by Agamemnon’s greed as Achilles. But whereas Achilles earns his right to complain – he is the best warrior in the Greek camp and his timē has been compromised – Thersites is nothing more than a buffoon. In Homer, Thersites’ speech is οὐ κατὰ κόσμον (Il. 2.214). It is disorderly, illfitting, and inappropriate in the extreme, despite its stylistic and rhetorical merits. It also violates the “rules” Agamemnon lays down at Iliad 19.78-82 for initiating a speech in council: “My friends, Danaan warriors, squires of Ares, it is right to give ear to him who stands to speak, nor is it seemly to break in upon his words; grievous [χαλεπὸν, 80] were that even for one well-skilled [ἐπισταμένῳ, 80]. And amid the uproar of many how should a man either hear or speak? —hampered is he then, clear-voiced talker though he be.” Thersites further proves to be a man of no restraint, the ultimate negative exemplar, in that he even allows himself to weep publicly following Odysseus’ humiliation of him (cf. Il. 2.226). As Ralph Rosen reports, Thersites, to match his role as jester in the Iliad, becomes a stock comic figure in later Athenian drama.197 It is no surprise, then, that Plato’s Socrates imagines Thersites’ soul “putting on” (ἐνδυομένην, Rep. 10.620c3) the body of an ape, like a costume, for preparation in its new life. William McDermott characterizes the conception of the ape in antiquity as “an object of jest and amusement – it epitomizes the form of humor which mocks the inferior, the imitative and grotesque.”198 Halliwell finds the ape a fitting characterization of Thersites in the afterlife in that it fits “both [Thersites’] physical and his scurrilous nature.”199 It is a match for his “ridiculous” (γελωτοποιοῦ, Rep. 10.620c3) nature, a fine echo in Plato of Homer’s description of Thersites’ interest in the “what raises a laugh” (γελοίϊον, 215).

197

Rosen 2007, 104. McDermott 1935, 165. 199 Halliwell 1988, 191. 198

363 Earlier in the Republic at 5.452d7-e1, Socrates defines what is properly ridiculous, showing his scorn for those like Thersites who try to raise a laugh inappropriately: καὶ τοῦτο ἐνεδείξατο, ὅτι μάταιος ὃς γελοῖον ἄλλο τι ἡγεῖται ἢ τὸ κακόν, καὶ ὁ γελωτοποιεῖν ἐπιχειρῶν πρὸς ἄλλην τινὰ ὄψιν ἀποβλέπων ὡς γελοίου ἢ τὴν τοῦ ἄφρονός τε καὶ κακοῦ, καὶ καλοῦ αὖ σπουδάζει [πρὸς] ἄλλον τινὰ σκοπὸν στησάμενος ἢ τὸν τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ.

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This makes it clear [i.e. the idea that at one time naked athletic competition seemed shameful and ridiculous] that it’s foolish to think that anything besides the bad is ridiculous or to try to raise a laugh at the sight of anything besides what’s stupid or bad or (putting it the other way around) it’s foolish to take seriously any standard of what is fine and beautiful other than the good. Likewise, Rep. 10.606c2-9 seems to have been written very much with the immoderate shamelessness of a Thersites in mind. Here Socrates seeks to demonstrate that reason, when operating properly as the leader of the emotions, keeps buffoonish behavior in check. The shamelessness of Thersites no doubt lets his interest in humor run amok over reason: Ἆρ᾽ οὖν οὐχ ὁ αὐτὸς λόγος καὶ περὶ τοῦ γελοίου; ὅτι, <ἃν ἅ> ἃν αὐτὸς αἰσχύνοιο γελωτοποιῶν, ἐν μιμήσει δὲ κωμῳδικῇ ἢ καὶ ἰδίᾳ ἀκούων σφόδρα χαρῇς καὶ μὴ μισῇς ὡς πονηρά, ταὐτὸν ποιεῖς ὅπερ ἐν τοῖς ἐλέοις; ὃ γὰρ τῷ λόγῳ αὖ κατεῖχες ἐν σαυτῷ βουλόμενον γελωτοποιεῖν, φοβούμενος δόξαν βωμολοχίας, τότ᾽ αὖ ἀνιεῖς, καὶ ἐκεῖ νεανικὸν ποιήσας ἔλαθες πολλάκις ἐν τοῖς οἰκείοις ἐξενεχθεὶς ὥστε κωμῳδοποιὸς γενέσθαι.

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And doesn’t the same argument [λόγος, c2] apply to what provokes laughter [τοῦ γελοίου, c2]? If there are any jokes that you yourself would be ashamed to tell but that you very much enjoy hearing and don’t detest as something evil in comic plays or in private, aren’t you doing the same thing as in the case of what provokes pity? The part of you that wanted to tell the jokes [γελωτοποιεῖν, c6] and that was held back by reason [τῷ λόγῳ, c5], for fear of being thought a buffoon, you then release, not realizing that, by making it strong in this way, you will be led into becoming a figure of fun where your own affairs are concerned.

364 Thus, with Thersites, a soul characterizing many forms of immoderation at once, Plato’s Socrates is able to round out the procession of misguided souls nicely in The Myth of Er before introducing the one wise soul, that of Odysseus (cf. Allusion 15). In the process, he perhaps remedies an “error” in Homer’s account of the Underworld; as Socrates complains at Gorgias 525e: while Homer depicts kings like Tantalus and Sisyphus in the Underworld, he does not depict ordinary men like Thersites.

5. Appetitive Moderation: Money-Loving

τὰ χρήματ’ ἀνθρώποισιν εὑρισκει φίλους, αὖθις δὲ τιμάς, εἶτα τῆς ὑπερτάτης τυραννίδος θεοῖσιν ἀγχίστην ἕδραν. ἔπειτα δ’ οὐδεὶς ἐχθρὸς ... (Sophocles fr. 88.1-4 (Lloyd-Jones)) Money finds friends for men, and also honors, and finally the throne of utmost tyranny, nearest to the gods. And no one is an enemy to money.

Allusion 20: Plato Rep. 3.390e5-8 : Homer Il. 9.515-526; 602-605 (Cf. Quotation 8 & Paraphrase 2) Interpretive Context Immediately following the text of Quotation 32 (on Odysseus’ steadfastness), Socrates turns Adeimantus’ attention to another topic: “Now, we mustn’t allow our men to be money-lovers or

365 to be bribable with gifts” (Οὐ μὲν δὴ δωροδόκους γε ἐατέον εἶναι τοὺς ἄνδρας οὐδὲ φιλοχρημάτους, Rep. 3.390d7-e1). He introduces this topic with a poetic citation – the origins of which are obscure – that he recommends for censorship:

δῶρα θεοὺς πείθει, δῶρ’ αἰδοίους βασιλῆας· Gifts persuade gods; gifts persuade revered kings. The author of the Suda is aware of Plato’s use of this poetic line, indicating that some attributed the line to Hesiod (οἱ μὲν Ἡσιόδειον οἴονται τὸν στίχον).200 While no such line appears in our Hesiod, modern editors of Hesiod have included the line, with a slight modification,201 among the dubious fragments of the poet.202 The thought contained in the line rises practically to the level of proverb, especially considering the number of times it is expressed with some modification elsewhere in Greek poetry.203 Fittingly, the line makes it into Apostolius’ collection of gnomata (6.42). It is worth considering whether the poetic line is not of any specific poet, but merely a Platonic invention, devised extemporaneously by the character of Socrates to express (and criticize) a common poetic sentiment. We have seen already how

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δ 1451. While the line in Plato scans as a perfect hexameter, in the Suda a καί is added to disrupt the rhythm: δῶρα θεοὺς πείθει, καὶ δῶρ’ αἰδοίους βασιλῆας. 202 Fr. dub 361 Merkelbach West = 272 Rzach. 203 See Euripides (Med. 964), where Medea insists that Jason’s new wife must receive her wedding gift, saying: “They say gifts win over even the gods” (πείθειν δῶρα καὶ θεοὺς λόγος); For death as the only god immune to persuasion, see Aeschylus (Niob. fr. 81 [Smyth] = 168 [Hermann]), Stobaeus (Anth. 4.51.1), Aristophanes (Frogs 1392), and Sophocles (Electra 139). Some notable occurrences of the proverb in Latin literature include Ovid (Ars Am. 3.6534: Munera, crede mihi, capiunt hominesque deosque / Placatur donis Iuppiter ipse datis) and Horace (C. 3.16.13-6). In Plato at Alc. II 149e3-4, perhaps a spurious dialogue, Socrates attacks the idea that gods can be bribed: “For it is not, I imagine, the way of the gods to be seduced with gifts” (οὐ γὰρ οἶμαι τοιοῦτόν ἐστι τὸ τῶν θεῶν ὥστε ὑπὸ δώρων παράγεσθαι). 201

366 inventive Plato is in the art of poetic citation.204 Moreover, the diction of the line is not above suspicion.205 At any rate, the line seems clearly not to be Homeric. Socrates uses the line, however, to introduce his allusion to Phoenix’s meeting with Agamemnon in Book 9 of the Iliad. With this allusion, Socrates will build off Quotation 8 and Paraphrase 2 – two earlier citations that dealt with the Embassy to Achilles. Whereas in Quotation 8 and Paraphrase 2 Socrates criticizes the idea that gods can be swayed by prayer and supplication, here he criticizes the idea that heroes like Achilles can be similarly swayed. In Homer, Phoenix, as part of the embassy to Achilles, attempts to persuade the hero to cease his wrath, accept Agamemnon’s gifts, and return to the battlefield. Phoenix builds his argument through analogy and precedent. He points out that not only were heroes of old “open to gifts” (δωρητοί, 526) and “pleadings” (cf. παράρρητοί, Il. 9.526), but even the gods are “prayable” (στρεπτοὶ, Il. 9.497; cf. Quotation 8). Phoenix goes on to tell the story of Meleager, a hero of an older (and, we can presume, greater) generation, who, like Achilles, while engaged in siege warfare, withdrew from the battle because of his wrath.206 While at first Meleager rejects the supplications of his family and friends despite their offer of a “mighty gift” (μέγα δῶρον, 576) of land, he finally returns to battle when his wife Cleopatra beseeches him, reminding him of the horrors that will be lost should others capture and burn the city. In the same way, albeit without the success of Cleopatra, Phoenix advises Achilles to return to the 204

See Paraphrase 1 & Quotation 4, Paraphrase 4, Quotation 1, 5, 7, 9 & Paraphrase 3, and Quotation 20, and 25. 205 The coupling of the adjectives αἰδοίους and βασιλῆας occurs but once in extant Greek poetry (cf. Od. 18.314); the repetition of δῶρα in any form is unprecedented. 206 Cf. χόλος, used at Il. 9.553 to describe Meleager’s wrath, in contrast to Achilles’ μῆνις. The parallels of Meleager’s and Achilles’ stories are well-documented in scholarship (cf. Swain 1988, 273 ff.; Hainsworth 1993, ad Il. 9.552, 565, 567).

367 battle now before the Greeks’ ships are burning and everything is already lost (cf. Il. 9.601-2). Thereafter, as quoted below in the Original Context (Il. 9.602 ff.), Phoenix tells Achilles that accepting Agamemnon’s gifts and returning to the battle are the keys to regaining his timē. Indeed, Phoenix goes so far as to say that Achilles’ honor would be diminished if he entered the battle without taking gifts first (cf. Il. 9.604-605 below). In the end, Achilles is not persuaded by Phoenix or any other member of The Embassy to return to battle. He claims he is no longer interested in timē, particularly that which can be granted by Agamemnon. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.390d7-e8 Οὐ μὲν δὴ δωροδόκους γε ἐατέον εἶναι τοὺς ἄνδρας οὐδὲ φιλοχρημάτους. Οὐδαμῶς. Οὐδ’ ᾀστέον αὐτοῖς ὅτι δῶρα θεοὺς πείθει, δῶρ’ αἰδοίους βασιλῆας· οὐδὲ τὸν τοῦ Ἀχιλλέως παιδαγωγὸν Φοίνικα ἐπαινετέον ὡς μετρίως ἔλεγε συμβουλεύων αὐτῷ δῶρα μὲν λαβόντι ἐπαμύνειν τοῖς Ἀχαιοῖς, ἄνευ δὲ δώρων μὴ ἀπαλλάττεσθαι τῆς μήνιος.

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[Socrates:] “Now, we mustn’t allow our men to be money-lovers [φιλοχρημάτους, e1] or to be bribable with gifts [δωροδόκους, d7].” [Adeimantus:] “Certainly not.” “Then it mustn’t be sung to them that: ‘Gifts persuade gods; gifts persuade revered kings.’ Nor must Phoenix, the tutor of Achilles, be praised as speaking with moderation [μετρίως, e6]207 when he advises him to take gifts and defend the Achaeans, but not to give up his anger [μήνιος, e8] without gifts. Homer Il. 9.515-526, 602-605 εἰ μὲν γὰρ μὴ δῶρα φέροι τὰ δ’ ὄπισθ’ ὀνομάζοι Ἀτρεί̈δης, ἀλλ’ αἰὲν ἐπιζαφελῶς χαλεπαίνοι, οὐκ ἂν ἔγωγέ σε μῆνιν ἀπορρίψαντα κελοίμην 207

515

See Allusion 19 above, which contains Homer’s description at Il. 2.212 of Thersites’ speech as ἀμετροεπὴς.

368 Ἀργείοισιν ἀμυνέμεναι χατέουσί περ ἔμπης· νῦν δ’ ἅμα τ’ αὐτίκα πολλὰ διδοῖ τὰ δ’ ὄπισθεν ὑπέστη, ἄνδρας δὲ λίσσεσθαι ἐπιπροέηκεν ἀρίστους κρινάμενος κατὰ λαὸν Ἀχαιϊκόν, οἵ τε σοὶ αὐτῷ φίλτατοι Ἀργείων· τῶν μὴ σύ γε μῦθον ἐλέγξῃς μηδὲ πόδας· πρὶν δ’ οὔ τι νεμεσσητὸν κεχολῶσθαι. οὕτω καὶ τῶν πρόσθεν ἐπευθόμεθα κλέα ἀνδρῶν ἡρώων, ὅτε κέν τιν’ ἐπιζάφελος χόλος ἵκοι· δωρητοί τε πέλοντο παράρρητοί τ’ ἐπέεσσι. … … ἀλλ’ ἐπὶ δώρων ἔρχεο· ἶσον γάρ σε θεῷ τίσουσιν Ἀχαιοί. εἰ δέ κ’ ἄτερ δώρων πόλεμον φθισήνορα δύῃς οὐκέθ’ ὁμῶς τιμῆς ἔσεαι πόλεμόν περ ἀλαλκών,

520

525

605

[Phoenix to Achilles:] “For if the son of Atreus were not offering you gifts and telling of yet others hereafter, but were ever furiously wroth, I of a surety should not bid you to cast aside your anger and bear aid to the Argives even in their sore need. But now he offers you many gifts forthwith, and promises you more hereafter, and has sent forth warriors to beseech you, choosing them that are best throughout the host of the Achaeans, and that to your own self are dearest of the Argives; have not scorn of their words, neither of their coming hither; though till then no man could blame you that you were wroth. Even in this manner have we heard the fame of men of old that were warriors, whenso furious wrath [χόλος, 525] came upon any; won might they be by gifts [δωρητοί, 526], and turned aside by pleadings [παράρρητοί, 526].” ... “Nay, come while yet gifts may be had; the Achaeans shall honor you even as a god. But if without gifts you enter into the battle, the bane of men, you shall not then be in like honor, for all you may ward off the battle.” Interpretation In this citation – as in many before – Socrates thoroughly misrepresents the character of the Homeric original in order to prove a philosophic point. It makes perfect sense that Phoenix would be praised for his advice to Achilles in the dramatic context of the Iliad. Achilles’ wrath seems limitless. He is being recompensed handsomely by the man who has offended him. Phoenix is merely trying to serve his king, Agamemnon, and trying to avoid the continued slaughter of his fellow Greeks, all the while operating within the warrior code. Phoenix is

369 attempting to persuade Achilles by using terms he feels will be most effective given Achilles’ earlier complaint over the distribution of spoils and Agamemnon’s greed (cf. Il. 1.149 ff.). To Plato, however, the danger of Phoenix’s speech taken out-of-context – as it likely would be in court or if it were memorized, recited by a student, taken, as it were, as an educational text – is clear. It is for this reason that Plato wishes that such “advice” as that of Phoenix be censored. When poetry is disassociated from its context, and in this case the term “context” may be extended to its ethical sense as well since Plato is certainly seeking to argue against the social utility of the warrior code, therein lies the true danger. Here we have the words of Phoenix, a wiser, older man, an educator, or παιδαγωγός as Socrates terms him (cf. Rep. 3.390e5), encouraging Achilles to accept a bribe. Achilles is not urged here in Phoenix’s speech – in the limited way in which The Embassy is treated in Plato – to return to battle for the sake of his friends, to stave off their destruction and ruin, to do what is right and good. Yet in an ideal polis, such as Socrates imagines, pursuing the good, or obeying those who have an understanding of it (i.e. the philosopher-kings) can be the only motivation for action. Socrates worries that a civic population would be utterly corrupted should they be raised on such a text as Phoenix’s speech to Achilles. The military, moreover, of such a state would be motivated by personal glory and the gathering of spoils; obedience would be obsolete. While many characters in the Iliad understand that Achilles’ savage, implacable thumos is his major failing,208 Socrates is able to revise this material in his own way; he can diagnose Achilles’ character flaw more precisely, philosophically, by demonstrating that his thumoeidic character is a problem, bound to fail both him and his community, because he has subordinated reason to his emotions.

208

See the complaints of Phoenix at Il. 9.436, and those of Ajax 9.629-36, Achilles 16.206, and Apollo at 24.41-3.

370

Allusion 21: Plato Rep. 3.390e7-10 : Homer Il. 19.278-281 & Allusion 22: Plato Rep. 3.390e10-391a1 : Homer Il. 24.501-594 Interpretive Context Allusions 21 and 22 build off Allusion 20 above. Once again, Socrates argues against Homer’s depiction of Achilles as a lover of money. As was the case in Allusion 20, here Socrates again quotes from the Embassy episode. The Homeric context of Allusion 21 is Achilles’ acceptance of Agamemnon’s gifts after he returns to battle, following the death of Patroclus. The context of Allusion 22 is Achilles’ acceptance of Priam’s ransom for the return of Hector’s body. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.390e7-391a2 οὐδ’ αὐτὸν τὸν Ἀχιλλέα ἀξιώσομεν οὐδ’ ὁμολογήσομεν οὕτω φιλοχρήματον εἶναι, ὥστε παρὰ τοῦ Ἀγαμέμνονος δῶρα λαβεῖν, καὶ τιμὴν αὖ λαβόντα νεκροῦ ἀπολύειν, ἄλλως δὲ μὴ ‘θέλειν. Oὔκουν δίκαιόν γε, ἔφη, ἐπαινεῖν τὰ τοιαῦτα.

391

[Socrates:] “Nor should we think such things to be worthy of Achilles, nor should we agree that he was such a money-lover [φιλοχρήματον, e8] that he would accept the gifts [δῶρα, e9] of Agamemnon or release the corpse of Hector for monetary compensation [τιμὴν, e9] but not otherwise.” [Adeimantus:] “It certainly isn’t right to praise such things.” Allusion 21 Homer Il. 19.137-149, 171-182, 188-202, 241-249, 268-275, 278-281

371 ἀλλ᾽ ἐπεὶ ἀασάμην καί μευ φρένας ἐξέλετο Ζεύς, ἂψ ἐθέλω ἀρέσαι, δόμεναί τ᾽ ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα· ἀλλ᾽ ὄρσευ πόλεμον δὲ καὶ ἄλλους ὄρνυθι λαούς. δῶρα δ᾽ ἐγὼν ὅδε πάντα παρασχέμεν ὅσσά τοι ἐλθὼν χθιζὸς ἐνὶ κλισίῃσιν ὑπέσχετο δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς. εἰ δ᾽ ἐθέλεις, ἐπίμεινον ἐπειγόμενός περ Ἄρηος, δῶρα δέ τοι θεράποντες ἐμῆς παρὰ νηὸς ἑλόντες οἴσουσ᾽, ὄφρα ἴδηαι ὅ τοι μενοεικέα δώσω. τὸν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς· Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον δῶρα μὲν αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέλῃσθα παρασχέμεν, ὡς ἐπιεικές, ἤ τ᾽ ἐχέμεν παρὰ σοί· νῦν δὲ μνησώμεθα χάρμης αἶψα μάλ᾽ … … ἀλλ᾽ ἄγε λαὸν μὲν σκέδασον καὶ δεῖπνον ἄνωχθι ὅπλεσθαι· τὰ δὲ δῶρα ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων οἰσέτω ἐς μέσσην ἀγορήν, ἵνα πάντες Ἀχαιοὶ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδωσι, σὺ δὲ φρεσὶ σῇσιν ἰανθῇς. ὀμνυέτω δέ τοι ὅρκον ἐν Ἀργείοισιν ἀναστὰς μή ποτε τῆς εὐνῆς ἐπιβήμεναι ἠδὲ μιγῆναι· ἣ θέμις ἐστὶν ἄναξ ἤ τ᾽ ἀνδρῶν ἤ τε γυναικῶν· καὶ δὲ σοὶ αὐτῷ θυμὸς ἐνὶ φρεσὶν ἵλαος ἔστω. αὐτὰρ ἔπειτά σε δαιτὶ ἐνὶ κλισίῃς ἀρεσάσθω πιείρῃ, ἵνα μή τι δίκης ἐπιδευὲς ἔχῃσθα. Ἀτρεΐδη σὺ δ᾽ ἔπειτα δικαιότερος καὶ ἐπ᾽ ἄλλῳ ἔσσεαι .... … αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς μιμνέτω αὐτόθι τεῖος ἐπειγόμενός περ Ἄρηος· μίμνετε δ᾽ ἄλλοι πάντες ἀολλέες, ὄφρά κε δῶρα ἐκ κλισίης ἔλθῃσι καὶ ὅρκια πιστὰ τάμωμεν. σοὶ δ᾽ αὐτῷ τόδ᾽ ἐγὼν ἐπιτέλλομαι ἠδὲ κελεύω· κρινάμενος κούρητας ἀριστῆας Παναχαιῶν δῶρα ἐμῆς παρὰ νηὸς ἐνεικέμεν, ὅσσ᾽ Ἀχιλῆϊ χθιζὸν ὑπέστημεν δώσειν, ἀγέμεν τε γυναῖκας. Ταλθύβιος δέ μοι ὦκα κατὰ στρατὸν εὐρὺν Ἀχαιῶν κάπρον ἑτοιμασάτω ταμέειν Διί τ᾽ Ἠελίῳ τε. τὸν δ᾽ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς· Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγάμεμνον ἄλλοτέ περ καὶ μᾶλλον ὀφέλλετε ταῦτα πένεσθαι, ὁππότε τις μεταπαυσωλὴ πολέμοιο γένηται καὶ μένος οὐ τόσον ᾖσιν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐμοῖσι. … βὰν δ᾽ ἴμεν ἐς κλισίην Ἀγαμέμνονος Ἀτρεΐδαο.

140

145

175

180

190

195

200

372 αὐτίκ᾽ ἔπειθ᾽ ἅμα μῦθος ἔην, τετέλεστο δὲ ἔργον· ἑπτὰ μὲν ἐκ κλισίης τρίποδας φέρον, οὕς οἱ ὑπέστη, αἴθωνας δὲ λέβητας ἐείκοσι, δώδεκα δ᾽ ἵππους· ἐκ δ᾽ ἄγον αἶψα γυναῖκας ἀμύμονα ἔργα ἰδυίας ἕπτ᾽, ἀτὰρ ὀγδοάτην Βρισηΐδα καλλιπάρῃον. χρυσοῦ δὲ στήσας Ὀδυσεὺς δέκα πάντα τάλαντα ἦρχ᾽, ἅμα δ᾽ ἄλλοι δῶρα φέρον κούρητες Ἀχαιῶν. καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν μέσσῃ ἀγορῇ θέσαν … … … αὐτὰρ Ἀχιλλεὺς ἀνστὰς Ἀργείοισι φιλοπτολέμοισι μετηύδα· Ζεῦ πάτερ ἦ μεγάλας ἄτας ἄνδρεσσι διδοῖσθα· οὐκ ἂν δή ποτε θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἐμοῖσιν Ἀτρεΐδης ὤρινε διαμπερές, οὐδέ κε κούρην ἦγεν ἐμεῦ ἀέκοντος ἀμήχανος· ἀλλά ποθι Ζεὺς ἤθελ᾽ Ἀχαιοῖσιν θάνατον πολέεσσι γενέσθαι. νῦν δ᾽ ἔρχεσθ᾽ ἐπὶ δεῖπνον, ἵνα ξυνάγωμεν Ἄρηα. … δῶρα δὲ Μυρμιδόνες μεγαλήτορες ἀμφεπένοντο, βὰν δ᾽ ἐπὶ νῆα φέροντες Ἀχιλλῆος θείοιο. καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν κλισίῃσι θέσαν, κάθισαν δὲ γυναῖκας, ἵππους δ᾽ εἰς ἀγέλην ἔλασαν θεράποντες ἀγαυοί.

245

270

275

280

[Agamemnon:] “Seeing I was blinded, and Zeus robbed me of my wits [φρένας, 137], I wish to make amends and to give a ransom [ἄποινα, 138] past counting. Nay, rouse yourself for battle, and rouse the rest of your people. I am here ready to offer you gifts [δῶρα, 140], even all that goodly Odysseus promised you last night, when he had come to your hut. Or, if you will, abide a while, eager though you be for war, and squires shall take the gifts [δῶρα, 143] bringing them from my ship, to the end that you may see that I will give what will satisfy your heart.” Then swift-footed Achilles answered him, and said: “Most glorious son of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men, for the gifts [δῶρα, 147], to give them if you will, as is but seemly, or to withhold them, rests with you. But now let us think of battle with all speed.” [Odysseus:] “Come then, dismiss the host, and bid them make ready their meal. And as touching the gifts [δῶρα, 172], let Agamemnon, king of men, bring them forth into the midst of the place of gathering, that all the Achaeans may behold them with their eyes, and you be made glad at heart [φρεσὶ, 174]. And let him rise up in the midst of the Argives and swear to you an oath, that never has he gone up into the woman’s bed neither had dalliance with her, as is the appointed way, O king, of men and of women; and let the heart [θυμὸς, 178] in your own breast be open to appeasement. Thereafter let him make amends to you in his hut with a feast full rich, that you may have nothing lacking of your due [δίκης, 180]. Son of Atreus, towards others also shall you be more righteous [δικαιότερος, 181] hereafter...” [Agamemnon:] “But let Achilles abide here the while, eager though he be for war, and abide all others together, until the gifts be brought from my hut, and we make oaths of faith with sacrifice. And to you do I thus give charge and commandment: Choose young men, princes of the host of the Achaeans, and bear from my ship the gifts [δῶρα, 194] even all that we promised last night

373 to give Achilles, and bring the women as well. And let Talthybius forthwith make me ready a boar in the midst of the wide camp of the Achaeans, to sacrifice to Zeus and to the Sun.” But swift-footed Achilles answered him, and said: “Most glorious son of Atreus, Agamemnon, king of men, at some other time were it even better that you be busied thus, when haply there shall come between some pause in war, and the fury [μένος, 202] in my breast [στήθεσσιν, 202] be not so great ...” And they went their way to the hut of Agamemnon, son of Atreus. Then straightway in the one moment was the word said, and the deed fulfilled. They carried seven tripods from the hut, even as he promised him, and twenty gleaming cauldrons and twelve horses; and forth they speedily led women skilled in goodly handiwork; seven they were, and the eighth was faircheeked Briseis. Then Odysseus weighed out ten talents of gold in all, and led the way and with him the other youths of the Achaeans bore the gifts. These then they set in the midst of the place of gathering ... but Achilles rose up, and spoke among the war-loving Argives: “Father Zeus, great in truth is the blindness you send upon men. Never would the son of Atreus have utterly roused the wrath [θυμὸν, 271] within my breast [ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν, 271], nor led off the girl ruthlessly in my despite, unless it was the good pleasure of Zeus that on many of the Achaeans death should come. But now go to your meal, that we may join in battle.” … And the greathearted Myrmidons busied themselves about the gifts [δῶρα, 278], and bore them forth to the ship of godlike Achilles. And they bestowed them in the huts, and set the women there, and the horses proud squires drove off to the herd. Allusion 22 Homer Il. 24.501-503, 552-556, 559-562, 572, 576-579, 591-594 Ἕκτορα· τοῦ νῦν εἵνεχ’ ἱκάνω νῆας Ἀχαιῶν 501 λυσόμενος παρὰ σεῖο, φέρω δ’ ἀπερείσι’ ἄποινα. ἀλλ’ αἰδεῖο θεοὺς Ἀχιλεῦ, αὐτόν τ’ ἐλέησον … τὸν δ’ ἠμείβετ’ ἔπειτα γέρων Πρίαμος θεοειδής· μή πω μ’ ἐς θρόνον ἵζε διοτρεφὲς ὄφρά κεν Ἕκτωρ κεῖται ἐνὶ κλισίῃσιν ἀκηδής, ἀλλὰ τάχιστα 555 λῦσον ἵν’ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδω· σὺ δὲ δέξαι ἄποινα πολλά, τά τοι φέρομεν ... ... τὸν δ’ ἄρ’ ὑπόδρα ἰδὼν προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς· μηκέτι νῦν μ’ ἐρέθιζε γέρον· νοέω δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς 560 Ἕκτορα τοι λῦσαι Διόθεν δέ μοι ἄγγελος ἦλθε μήτηρ, ἥ μ᾽ ἔτεκεν, θυγάτηρ ἁλίοιο γέροντος. … Πηλεί̈δης δ’ οἴκοιο λέων ὣς ἆλτο θύραζε ... οἳ τόθ’ ὑπὸ ζυγόφιν λύον ἵππους ἡμιόνους τε, ἐς δ’ ἄγαγον κήρυκα καλήτορα τοῖο γέροντος, κὰδ δ’ ἐπὶ δίφρου εἷσαν· ἐϋξέστου δ’ ἀπ’ ἀπήνης ᾕρεον Ἑκτορέης κεφαλῆς ἀπερείσι’ ἄποινα.

374 … ᾤμωξέν τ’ ἄρ’ ἔπειτα, φίλον δ’ ὀνόμηνεν ἑταῖρον· μή μοι Πάτροκλε σκυδμαινέμεν, αἴ κε πύθηαι εἰν Ἄϊδός περ ἐὼν ὅτι Ἕκτορα δῖον ἔλυσα πατρὶ φίλῳ, ἐπεὶ οὔ μοι ἀεικέα δῶκεν ἄποινα.

591

[Priam addressing Achilles:] “For [Hector’s] sake am I now come to the ships of the Achaeans to win him back from you, and I bear with me ransom [ἄποινα, 502] past counting. Nay, have awe of the gods, Achilles, and take pity on me, remembering your own father…” And the old man, godlike Priam, answered him: “Seat me not anywise upon a chair, O one fostered of Zeus, so long as Hector lay uncared-for amid the huts; nay, give him back with speed, that my eyes may behold him; and do accept the ransom [ἄποινα, 555], the great one, that we bring ...” Then with an angry glance from beneath his brows Achilles, swift of foot, spoke to him: Provoke me no more, old sir; I am minded even of myself to give Hector back to you; for from Zeus there came to me a messenger, even the mother that bare me, daughter of the old man of the sea...” But like a lion the son of Peleus sprang forth from the houses ... [and Achilles and his companions] then loosed from beneath the yoke the horses and mules, and led within the herald, the crier of the old king, and set him on a chair; and took the countless ransom [ἄποινα, 579] for Hector’s head … Then [Achilles] uttered a groan, and called by name upon his dear comrade: “Be not angry with me, Patroclus, if you hear even in the house of Hades that I have given back goodly Hector to his dear father, seeing that not unseemly is the ransom [ἄποινα, 594] he has given me.” Interpretation In these citations, Socrates continues his habit of thoroughly misrepresenting Homer’s depiction of the character of Achilles. As Murray puts it, “Plato’s characterization of Achilles as philochrematos is … not strictly accurate.”209 Adam, seemingly unaware of his unfortunate word-choice, writes, “Plato is unjust to Achilles.”210 In these allusions, Plato’s Socrates takes two Homeric episodes completely out-of-context to allege that Achilles, as Homer depicts him, is motivated primarily by material gain in his decision to return to war and to return Hector’s body to Priam. As is abundantly clear when reading the Homeric passages from the Original

209 210

P. Murray [1996] 2007, ad loc. Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc.

375 Context, however, Achilles is thoroughly indifferent to the material rewards offered to him by Priam and Achilles. In the Homeric text to which Allusion 21 refers, Achilles makes it clear, particularly in lines 146-153, that he will return to battle regardless of whether Agamemnon gives him gifts or not.211 Surely, a more careful reader than Adeimantus would have noticed that on this point Socrates thoroughly misrepresents Achilles’ motivation. Indeed, Socrates makes no mention of Achilles’ primary motivation, the death of Patroclus. As εἴρων, Socrates feigns ignorance of this “detail.”212 In Allusion 22 in Homer, Achilles likewise acts in a way far different from the way Socrates depicts him. Achilles’ primary interest is not in the material aspect of Priam’s ransom for Hector’s body. While he accepts the ransom, he is angered, in fact, by Priam’s repeated offer, saying, “I am minded even of myself to give Hector back to you” (νοέω δὲ καὶ αὐτὸς / Ἕκτορα τοι λῦσαι, 560-561). Thereafter, Achilles cites a higher authority to explain his reasons for the return of Hector’s body, saying he had previously been visited by a messenger from Zeus advising him to do so (cf. 561-562). Socrates disregards this explanation, however, even going so far as to change the word Homer uses for ransom, ἄποινα (502, 555, 579, 594), replacing it with τιμὴν (e9). In this way, Socrates is able subtly to carry out his criticism of Homer’s depiction of Achilles on two levels, implicitly combining the flaws of honor-loving and money-loving, both 211

As Donlan (1989, 5-6) points out, Achilles does this in part to humiliate Agamemnon. He denies him the opportunity to honor him properly and publicly. In this way, Achilles’ seeming disinterest in honor is transmuted more to an interest in continuing to dishonor his antagonist Agamemnon. 212 See Thrasymachus’ description of Socrates’ as εἴρων at Rep. 1.337a4. Achilles’ lack of interest in any material substance whatsoever in Homer is quite striking. He takes no food or drink and acts more like an ascetic than a lover of money.

376 characteristics of the thumoeidic soul in the Republic. Indeed, Socrates’ misrepresentation of Achilles’ character is thoroughly ironic. Instead of being a lover of money as Socrates understands him, in Homer Achilles might better be described at this point in the epic as an ascetic. He has no interest in anything material whatsoever. He eschews all food and drink and shows limited interest in and patience for the offers of material gain from those around him. That is not to say that Homer’s Achilles – while cleared of the charge of money-loving – is not worthy of reproach in a Platonic reading of the text. As Socrates argues, not only should good men be least of all affected by the death of a loved one (cf. Rep. 3.387d5-6) – in that they are supremely self-sufficient – but a good man ought to be led by reason, not emotion. Achilles, however, allows his thumos and his mēnos to guide his actions.213 His is a disordered soul. As Hobbs points out, Achilles’ “thumoeidic values,” uncontrolled by reason as they are, make him a political and ethical threat to the stability of the state.214 For this reason, Plato’s Socrates must go to great lengths to magnify, even misrepresent at times, Achilles’ flaws. Achilles must seem utterly unworthy of imitation, a positive danger even to himself and society. In this way, Plato’s Socrates is able to carry out his ultimate goal of eliminating Achilles as a pedagogic paradigm.

213

The vocabulary referring to Achilles’ thumos and mēnos is striking. See Odysseus’ advice that Achilles’ thumos (178) be open to appeasement; Achilles’ lack of interest in eating so long as his mēnos (202) encourages him to join the battle as soon as possible; Achilles’ admission that had Agamemnon not dishonored him, his thumos (271) would not have been roused to anger. 214 Hobbs 1990, 124-5, 135-73. Not only is Achilles “unjust” in a Platonic understanding of the term – i.e. he lacks psychological harmony and disrupts social harmony – but he also disregards justice in the conventional, Greek sense of the term: to give to each what is owed. Agamemnon and The Embassy are intent on compensating Achilles with gifts for the damage done to his timē. In Book 25 of the Iliad, Odysseus even urges Achilles to join in the communal feast through an appeal to a sense of justice. He tells Achilles to feast so that “[he] may have nothing lacking of [his] due [δίκης, 180].” Odysseus then offers advice to Agamemnon so that he may act more justly towards the men under his command in the future: “Son of Atreus, towards others also shall you be more righteous [δικαιότερος, 181] hereafter.” To Odysseus and Agamemnon “justice” will have only been served once all have been compensated fairly.

377 And with such willing accomplices as Adeimantus – who do not question Socrates’ Homeric misinterpretations – Socrates has little to stand in the way of his depiction of Homer’s Achilles.

6. Appetitive Moderation: Sex πάντες γὰρ χαίρουσί πως καὶ ὄψοις καὶ οἴνοις καὶ ἀφροδισίοις, ἀλλ’ οὐχ ὡς δεῖ (Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics 1154a18-20) Everybody enjoys fancy food, wine, and sex, though not everybody to the right degree.

Allusion 23: Plato Rep. 3.390b6-7 : Homer Il. 2.1-4 (Cf. Allusion 11) Allusion 24: Plato Rep. 3.390b7-c6 : Homer Il. 14.159-360 & Quotation 33: Plato Rep. 3.390c5-6 : Homer Il. 14.296 Interpretive Context At Rep. 3.390b ff., Socrates begins to discuss moderation in respect to sexual desire. Here he cites passages from both Iliad 2 and 14 as negative exemplars. In the passage from Iliad 2, Zeus considers how he might still honor Achilles in accord with his mother Thetis’ wish by allowing the Trojan army to triumph in the hero’s absence. In the passage from Iliad 14, Hera attempts to undermine Zeus’ favorable treatment of Achilles. She plans to seduce Zeus and then aid the Greek cause while he is asleep.

378 In choosing to criticize Zeus’ lack of control of his sexual appetite, Socrates continues his established pattern of choosing the grandest figures possible from mythology to support his philosophical positions. Zeus himself happens to fit the theme of sexual immoderation particularly well. At Iliad 14.317-328, part of Allusion 24, the god provides a lengthy “catalogue” of (a portion of) the many adulterous love affairs he has had.215 In so doing, the god cannot help but seem to be a something of a comic figure, not in the least as he recites such a catalogue while in the midst of coaxing his own wife to bed! Original Context Plato Rep. 3.390b6-c6 ἢ Δία, καθευδόντων τῶν ἄλλων θεῶν τε καὶ ἀνθρώπων ὡς, μόνος ἐγρηγορὼς ἃ ἐβουλεύσατο, τούτων πάντων ῥᾳδίως ἐπιλανθανόμενον διὰ τὴν τῶν ἀφροδισίων ἐπιθυμίαν, καὶ οὕτως ἐκπλαγέντα ἰδόντα τὴν Ἥραν, ὥστε μηδ’ εἰς τὸ δωμάτιον ἐθέλειν ἐλθεῖν, ἀλλ’ αὐτοῦ βουλόμενον χαμαὶ συγγίγνεσθαι, λέγοντα ὡς οὕτως ὑπὸ ἐπιθυμίας ἔχεται, ὡς οὐδ’ ὅτε τὸ πρῶτον ἐφοίτων πρὸς ἀλλήλους [φίλους λήθοντε τοκῆας·]

c

5

[Socrates:] “Or what about having Zeus easily forget all his plans when all the other gods and men are asleep and he alone is awake because of his sexual desire [τὴν τῶν ἀφροδισίων ἐπιθυμίαν, c1] and be so overcome by the sight of Hera that he doesn’t even want to go inside but wants to possess her there on the ground, saying that his desire for her is even greater than it was when – [their dear parents knowing naught thereof] – they were first lovers?”216

215

This passage – not surprisingly – is athetized by Aristarchus. For a detailed treatment of the syntax and grammar of this passage with regard to comprehending its meaning and translating it accurately, see Labarbe (1949, 345). A more concise treatment may be found in Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) and in P. Murray ([1996] 2007, ad loc.). The translation above is modified from Cooper (1997). I have rearranged the subordinate clauses to represent what must have been Plato’s sense – despite Labarbe’s misunderstanding – namely that Zeus forgets his original plan from Iliad 2 to honor Achilles by favoring the Trojan side the moment he is seized by desire for Hera in Iliad 14. As I shall argue below, this reading clears away the need to assume that Plato himself has made some kind of “involuntary blunder,” conflating episodes that stand more than twelve books apart in the epic, as Labarbe (1949, 345) suggests. 216

379 Allusion 23 Homer Il. 2.1-6 ἄλλοι μέν ῥα θεοί τε καὶ ἀνέρες ἱπποκορυσταὶ εὗδον παννύχιοι, Δία δ᾽ οὐκ ἔχε νήδυμος ὕπνος, ἀλλ᾽ ὅ γε μερμήριζε κατὰ φρένα ὡς Ἀχιλῆα τιμήσῃ, ὀλέσῃ δὲ πολέας ἐπὶ νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν. ἥδε δέ οἱ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλή, πέμψαι ἐπ᾽ Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι οὖλον ὄνειρον·

5

Now all the other gods and men, lords of chariots, slumbered the whole night through, but Zeus was not held by sweet sleep, for he was pondering in his heart how he might do honor to Achilles and lay many low beside the ships of the Achaeans. And this plan seemed to his mind the best, to send to Agamemnon, son of Atreus, a baneful dream. Allusion 24 & Quotation 33 Homer Il. 14.159-65, 292-296, 301-304, 313-316, 330-336, 342-346 μερμήριξε δ᾽ ἔπειτα βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη ὅππως ἐξαπάφοιτο Διὸς νόον αἰγιόχοιο· 160 ἥδε δέ οἱ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀρίστη φαίνετο βουλὴ ἐλθεῖν εἰς Ἴδην εὖ ἐντύνασαν ἓ αὐτήν, εἴ πως ἱμείραιτο παραδραθέειν φιλότητι ᾗ χροιῇ, τῷ δ᾽ ὕπνον ἀπήμονά τε λιαρόν τε χεύῃ ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἰδὲ φρεσὶ πευκαλίμῃσι. 165 ... Ἥρη δὲ κραιπνῶς προσεβήσετο Γάργαρον ἄκρον Ἴδης ὑψηλῆς· ἴδε δὲ νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς. ὡς δ’ ἴδεν, ὥς μιν ἔρως πυκινὰς φρένας ἀμφεκάλυψεν, οἷον ὅτε πρῶτόν περ ἐμισγέσθην φιλότητι 295 εἰς εὐνὴν φοιτῶντε, [φίλους λήθοντε τοκῆας.] … ἔρχομαι ὀψομένη πολυφόρβου πείρατα γαίης, Ὠκεανόν τε θεῶν γένεσιν καὶ μητέρα Τηθύν, οἵ με σφοῖσι δόμοισιν ἐῢ τρέφον ἠδ᾽ ἀτίταλλον· τοὺς εἶμ᾽ ὀψομένη, καί σφ᾽ ἄκριτα νείκεα λύσω· ... Ἥρη κεῖσε μὲν ἔστι καὶ ὕστερον ὁρμηθῆναι, νῶϊ δ᾽ ἄγ᾽ ἐν φιλότητι τραπείομεν εὐνηθέντε. οὐ γάρ πώ ποτέ μ᾽ ὧδε θεᾶς ἔρος οὐδὲ γυναικὸς 315 θυμὸν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι περιπροχυθεὶς ἐδάμασσεν, ... αἰνότατε Κρονίδη ποῖον τὸν μῦθον ἔειπες. 330

380 εἰ νῦν ἐν φιλότητι λιλαίεαι εὐνηθῆναι Ἴδης ἐν κορυφῇσι, τὰ δὲ προπέφανται ἅπαντα· πῶς κ᾽ ἔοι εἴ τις νῶϊ θεῶν αἰειγενετάων εὕδοντ᾽ ἀθρήσειε, θεοῖσι δὲ πᾶσι μετελθὼν πεφράδοι; οὐκ ἂν ἔγωγε τεὸν πρὸς δῶμα νεοίμην ἐξ εὐνῆς ἀνστᾶσα, νεμεσσητὸν δέ κεν εἴη. ... Ἥρη μήτε θεῶν τό γε δείδιθι μήτέ τιν’ ἀνδρῶν ὄψεσθαι· τοῖόν τοι ἐγὼ νέφος ἀμφικαλύψω χρύσεον· οὐδ’ ἂν νῶϊ διαδράκοι Ἠέλιός περ, οὗ τε καὶ ὀξύτατον πέλεται φάος εἰσοράασθαι. ἦ ῥα καὶ ἀγκὰς ἔμαρπτε Κρόνου παῖς ἣν παράκοιτιν·

335

345

Then she took thought, the ox-eyed, queenly Hera, how she might beguile the mind of Zeus who bears the aegis. And this plan seemed to her mind the best—to go to Ida, when she had beauteously adorned her person, if so be he might desire to lie by her side and embrace her body in love, and she might shed a warm and gentle sleep upon his eyelids and his cunning mind. ... But Hera swiftly approached topmost Gargarus, the peak of lofty Ida, and Zeus, the cloudgatherer, beheld her. And when he beheld her, then love encompassed his wise heart about, even as when at the first they had gone to the couch and had dalliance together in love, [their dear parents knowing naught thereof.] ... [Hera to Zeus:]“I am faring to visit the limits of the all-nurturing earth, and Oceanus, from whom the gods are sprung, and mother Tethys, even them that lovingly nursed me and cherished me in their halls. Them am I faring to visit, and will loose for them their endless strife.” ... [Zeus:] “Hera, may you go there later. But for us, come, let us take our joy couched together in love; for never yet did desire for goddess or mortal woman so shed itself about me and overmaster the heart within my breast.” ... [Hera:] “Most dread son of Cronos, what a word have you said. If now you desire to be couched in love on the peaks of Ida, where all is plain to view, what and if some one of the gods that are forever should behold us as we sleep, and should go and tell it to all the gods? Then verily could not I arise from the couch and go again to your house; that were a shameful thing.” ... [Zeus:] “Hera, fear not that any god or man shall behold the thing, with such a cloud shall I enfold you, a cloud of gold. Therethrough might not even Helios discern us together, albeit his sight is the keenest of all for beholding. Therewith the son of Cronus clasped his wife in his arms ...” Interpretation

381 While Labarbe states that Plato makes several “involuntary blunders” in this citation, in fact, Labarbe errs fundamentally in his identification of the citation itself.217 Labarbe questions the accuracy of Plato’s reference to Zeus’ wakeful state. He assumes that Plato only refers to Book 2 of the Iliad, failing to realize that there is an additional reference to Book 14 of the Iliad, where Zeus lies awake while “all the other gods and men are asleep” (καθευδόντων τῶν ἄλλων θεῶν τε καὶ ἀνθρώπων, Rep. 3.390b6).218 An entirely different question is how fair Plato’s collocation of Iliadic references is. As it turns out, Plato arranges his evidence in such a way to make it appear that Zeus’ plan to help Achilles is overturned immediately by his sexual desire. In reality, however, Zeus is able to make Achilles’ absence extremely painful to the Greeks for 12 Books. He is not even overcome by sexual desire so much as by the magical slumber that Hera sends upon him. The moment Zeus awakens, moreover, he realizes Hera’s treachery and reaffirms his commitment to the promise he made to Thetis of assuring the glory of Achilles: Then from that time forth shall I cause a driving back of the Trojans from the ships evermore continually, until the Achaeans shall take steep Ilios through the counsels of Athene. But until that hour neither do I refrain my wrath, nor will I suffer any other of the immortals to bear aid to the Danaans here, until the desire of the son of Peleus be fulfilled, even as I promised at the first and bowed my head thereto, on the day when the goddess Thetis clasped my knees, beseeching me to do honor to Achilles, sacker of cities.219

217

Labarbe 1949, 345: “[ce passage] renferme un certain nombre de bévues, certainement involontaires ...”. 218 Labarbe’s error here is all the more egregious given that Plato’s allusion to Book 14 of the Iliad was pointed out by Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) nearly half a century prior to Labarbe’s own work. 219 Il. 15.69-77.

382 As we have seen throughout, not unlike a Sophist, Plato’s Socrates is a master of taking only that material into account which most aids his case or point of view. As Adam points out,220 by using an unconventional syntactical arrangement in this series of citations,221 what Plato loses in clarity he gains in emphasis. He takes a telescopic view of the great plan of Zeus, by combining elements of Iliad 2 and 14. In so doing, he minimizes the strength of Zeus’ will. In the world of Homer, deities can be drawn away from their grand plans by such things as momentary sexual desire. The unchanging deities of Plato’s Republic, however, have a superior form of providence (as do, presumably, the “god-like” philosopher-kings). They are impervious to the drives of the “lower elements” of the soul, unaffected by anything that can make them worse, and so provide a model for the youth and citizens of an ideal republic that, in contrast to that of Homer, is worthy of imitation. This, after all, is Socrates’ reason for citing such Homeric episodes. As Adeimantus, Socrates’ accomplice in the argument concludes, such poetic examples of sexual immoderation are not “suitable” (ἐπιτήδειον, c8) “by god” (μὰ τὸν Δία, c8). Socrates slips the quotation φίλους λήθοντε τοκῆας (c5-6) into the series of citations to underline yet another aspect of the inappropriate nature of Zeus’ behavior. Not only is Hera’s and Zeus’ love affair an incestuous one, but it is carried out initially with a lack of regard of their parents’ consent. Such disrespect to one’s parents in the realm of the divine has already been touched upon by Socrates when he criticizes Hesiod for “telling the greatest falsehood about the

220

Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. For this reason, as Adam and Labarbe relate, scholars have often attempted to emend the text. For a detailed analysis of such emendations, see Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) and Labarbe (1949, 345). 221

383 most important things,” namely the overthrow of Uranus and Zeus at the hands of their own children.222

Allusion 25: Plato Rep. 3.390c6-7 : Homer Od. 8.266-369 Interpretive Context In Plato, Socrates immediately follows up the example of Zeus’ immoderate sexual desire with the story of the binding of Ares and Aphrodite. In this story, Hephaestus fashions a network of fine metal strings around his bed in order to expose the adulterous affair his wife Aphrodite is having with Ares. In Homer, this story is sung by the Phaeacian minstrel Demodocus, the only story told by a minstrel in the Homeric epics that does not concern events related to the Trojan War. It is perhaps fitting that this story of immoderate behavior is told by a Phaeacian, a member of a society that would be regarded in the Republic as quite luxurious, especially considering King Alcinous’ description of his own people: “and ever to us is the banquet dear, and the lyre, and the dance, and changes of raiment, and warm baths, and the couch” (Od. 8.248-249). The story of the binding of Ares and Aphrodite is perhaps loosely alluded to earlier at Republic 3.388e5-389a6 (cf. Quotation 26), where Socrates criticizes generally the depiction of immoderate laughter among the gods. His specific quotation concerns “the unquenchable laughter” (ἄσβεστος … γέλως, Il. 1.599; cf. Rep. 3.389a5) of the gods occasioned by Hephaestus acting as cupbearer to the gods, but the first half of this quotation, comprising Il.

222

This is an allusion to Hesiod’s Theogony 154-210, 453-506. For Plato’s reception of Hesiod’s poetry, see Boys-Stones (2010).

384 1.599, happens to be identical to Od. 8.326. At Od. 8.326, the gods likewise are struck with “unquenchable laughter” at the sight of Ares and Aphrodite bound in bed together. Once again, Hephaestus acts as the impetus for divine laughter. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.390c6-8 οὐδὲ Ἄρεώς τε καὶ Ἀφροδίτης ὑπὸ Ἡφαίστου δεσμὸν δι’ ἕτερα τοιαῦτα. Οὐ μὰ τὸν Δία, ἦ δ’ ὅς, οὔ μοι φαίνεται ἐπιτήδειον. [Socrates:] “Or what about the chaining together of Ares and Aphrodite by Hephaestus – also the result of sexual passion?” [Adeimantus:] “No, by god, none of that seems suitable [ἐπιτήδειον, c8] to me.” Homer Od. 8.266-288, 296-307 αὐτὰρ ὁ φορμίζων ἀνεβάλλετο καλὸν ἀείδειν ἀμφ’ Ἄρεος φιλότητος εὐστεφάνου τ’ Ἀφροδίτης, ὡς τὰ πρῶτα μίγησαν ἐν Ἡφαίστοιο δόμοισι λάθρῃ, πολλὰ δ’ ἔδωκε, λέχος δ’ ᾔσχυνε καὶ εὐνὴν Ἡφαίστοιο ἄνακτος. ἄφαρ δέ οἱ ἄγγελος ἦλθεν Ἥλιος, ὅ σφ’ ἐνόησε μιγαζομένους φιλότητι. Ἥφαιστος δ’ ὡς οὖν θυμαλγέα μῦθον ἄκουσε, βῆ ῥ’ ἴμεν ἐς χαλκεῶνα κακὰ φρεσὶ βυσσοδομεύων, ἐν δ’ ἔθετ’ ἀκμοθέτῳ μέγαν ἄκμονα, κόπτε δὲ δεσμοὺς ἀρρήκτους ἀλύτους, ὄφρ’ ἔμπεδον αὖθι μένοιεν. αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τεῦξε δόλον κεχολωμένος Ἄρει, βῆ ῥ’ ἴμεν ἐς θάλαμον, ὅθι οἱ φίλα δέμνι’ ἔκειτο, ἀμφὶ δ’ ἄρ’ ἑρμῖσιν χέε δέσματα κύκλῳ ἁπάντῃ· πολλὰ δὲ καὶ καθύπερθε μελαθρόφιν ἐξεκέχυντο, ἠύτ’ ἀράχνια λεπτά, τά γ’ οὔ κέ τις οὐδὲ ἴδοιτο, οὐδὲ θεῶν μακάρων· πέρι γὰρ δολόεντα τέτυκτο. αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ πάντα δόλον περὶ δέμνια χεῦεν, εἴσατ’ ἴμεν ἐς Λῆμνον, ἐυκτίμενον πτολίεθρον, ἥ οἱ γαιάων πολὺ φιλτάτη ἐστὶν ἁπασέων. οὐδ’ ἀλαοσκοπιὴν εἶχε χρυσήνιος Ἄρης, ὡς ἴδεν Ἥφαιστον κλυτοτέχνην νόσφι κιόντα· βῆ δ’ ἰέναι πρὸς δῶμα περικλυτοῦ Ἡφαίστοιο ἰσχανόων φιλότητος ἐυστεφάνου Κυθερείης. … τὼ δ’ ἐς δέμνια βάντε κατέδραθον· ἀμφὶ δὲ δεσμοὶ

270

275

280

285

385 τεχνήεντες ἔχυντο πολύφρονος Ἡφαίστοιο, οὐδέ τι κινῆσαι μελέων ἦν οὐδ’ ἀναεῖραι. καὶ τότε δὴ γίγνωσκον, ὅ τ’ οὐκέτι φυκτὰ πέλοντο. ἀγχίμολον δέ σφ’ ἦλθε περικλυτὸς ἀμφιγυήεις, αὖτις ὑποστρέψας πρὶν Λήμνου γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι· Ἠέλιος γάρ οἱ σκοπιὴν ἔχεν εἶπέ τε μῦθον. βῆ δ’ ἴμεναι πρὸς δῶμα φίλον τετιημένος ἦτορ· ἔστη δ’ ἐν προθύροισι, χόλος δέ μιν ἄγριος ᾕρει· σμερδαλέον δ’ ἐβόησε, γέγωνέ τε πᾶσι θεοῖσιν· “Ζεῦ πάτερ ἠδ’ ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες, δεῦθ’, ἵνα ἔργα γελαστὰ καὶ οὐκ ἐπιεικτὰ ἴδησθε,

300

305

But the minstrel struck the chords in prelude to his sweet lay and sang of the love of Ares and Aphrodite of the fair crown, how first they lay together in the house of Hephaestus secretly; and Ares gave her many gifts, and shamed the bed of the lord Hephaestus. But straightway one came to him with tidings, even Helius, who had marked them as they lay together in love. And when Hephaestus heard the grievous tale, he went his way to his smithy, pondering evil in the deep of his heart, and set on the anvil block the great anvil and forged bonds which might not be broken or loosed, that the lovers might bide fast where they were. But when he had fashioned the snare in his wrath against Ares, he went to his chamber where lay his bed, and everywhere round about the bed-posts he spread the bonds, and many too were hung from above, from the roof-beams, fine as spiders’ webs, so that no one even of the blessed gods could see them, so exceeding craftily were they fashioned. But when he had spread all his snare about the couch, he made as though he would go to Lemnos, that well-built citadel, which is in his eyes far the dearest of all lands. And no blind watch did Ares of the golden rein keep, when he saw Hephaestus, famed for his handicraft, departing, but he went his way to the house of famous Hephaestus, eager for the love of Cytherea of the fair crown. … So they two went to the couch, and lay them down to sleep, and about them clung the cunning bonds of the wise Hephaestus, nor could they in any wise stir their limbs or raise them up. Then at length they learned that there was no more escaping. And near to them came the famous god of the two strong arms, having turned back before he reached the land of Lemnos; for Helius had kept watch for him and had brought him word. So he went to his house with a heavy heart, and stood at the gateway, and fierce anger seized him. And terribly he cried out and called to all the gods: “Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods that are forever, come here that you may see a laughable matter and a monstrous one …” Interpretation As was the case in the citations immediately above concerning sexual moderation, such stories as that of the binding of Ares and Aphrodite do not provide a suitable example of self-control for the youth and residents of Socrates’ ideal state to imitate. The fact that the story inspires

386 laughter among both gods and, in imitation, among its listeners, makes the story all the more dangerous in Socrates’ eyes. That is not to say that in its new Platonic context the story’s humor does not work to Socrates’ advantage. Socrates is able to make light of a famous Homeric episode, yet does so for a serious purpose – a classic example of the “serious play” of which Plato’s Socrates is so fond.

7. Appetitive Moderation: Diet ἀλλὰ πάσασθαι ἄνωχθι … σίτου καὶ οἴνοιο· τὸ γὰρ μένος ἐστὶ καὶ ἀλκή. (Homer Iliad 19.160-161) But bid them to taste of food and wine; since therein is courage and strength.

At Rep. 3.389d9-e2, Socrates denotes the “most important” (τὰ τοιάδε μέγιστα, d9) aspects of moderation, namely obedience to one’s rulers (cf. Quotations 27-32 & Allusion 19) and self-rule in respect to the pleasures of sex (cf. Allusions 23-25 & Quotation 33), eating, and drinking (treated below).

Quotation 34: Plato Rep. 3.390b5 : Homer Od. 12.342 Interpretive Context

387 Socrates first cites the words of Odysseus from Od. 9.1-10 (cf. Paraphrase 1 & Quotation 4) at Rep. 3.390a8-b2 to introduce the idea of bodily moderation in respect to diet. In this citation, Odysseus praises highly the pleasures of food and drink. Socrates follows this citation immediately with another Odyssean citation, that which concerns us here in Quotation 34. Socrates cites with disapproval the words of Eurylochus, a member of Odysseus’ crew, who, in Odysseus’ absence, urges the rest of the men to slaughter and eat the cattle of Helios. To convince the men to perform such an impious slaughter, Eurylochus calls starvation “the most pitiful death.”

Original Context Plato Rep. 3.390b4-5 ἢ τὸ-[λιμῷ δ’ οἴκτιστον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν;]

5

[Socrates:] “or this [‘to die of hunger, and so meet one’s doom, is the most pitiful death?’”] Homer Od. 12.336-344 χεῖρας νιψάμενος, ὅθ’ ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο, ἠρώμην πάντεσσι θεοῖς οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν· οἱ δ’ ἄρα μοι γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔχευαν. Εὐρύλοχος δ’ ἑτάροισι κακῆς ἐξήρχετο βουλῆς· “‘κέκλυτέ μευ μύθων κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι. πάντες μὲν στυγεροὶ θάνατοι δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι, [λιμῷ δ’ οἴκτιστον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν.] ἀλλ’ ἄγετ’, Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας ῥέξομεν ἀθανάτοισι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.

340

I washed my hands in a place where there was shelter from the wind, and prayed to all the gods that hold Olympus; but they shed sweet sleep upon my eyelids. And meanwhile Eurylochus began to give evil counsel to my comrades: “Hear my words, comrades, for all your evil plight. All forms of death are hateful to wretched mortals, but [to die of hunger, and so meet one’s doom, is the most pitiful death.] Nay, come, let us drive off the best of the kine of Helios and offer sacrifice to the immortals who hold broad heaven.”

388

Interpretation As was the case in Paraphrase 1 & Quotation 4, the citations that immediately precede this citation in Plato’s text, Socrates employs implied censorship in this citation to great effect. Here he also exploits the broader Homeric context to criticize implicitly the Homeric episode as a whole. On their own, Eurylochus’ words hardly seem to be dangerous: “to die of hunger, and so meet one’s doom, is the most pitiful death” (Od. 12.342). Unlike Paraphrase 1 & Quotation 4, Eurylochus’ words do not represent an excessive interest in food and drink. He utters them merely to attempt to avoid starvation himself, to survive. He says nothing of feasting for the sake of pleasure. At Rep. 2.369d1-2, Socrates himself calls food one of the basic necessities for human life: “Surely our first and greatest need is to provide food to sustain life.” In this way, Socrates’ thought shares some common ground with that of Eurylochus. It is the context of Eurylochus’ words, however, that contains material that is dangerous from a Platonic perspective. Not only is Eurylochus disobedient to his commander – the first of the important principles of moderation as cited above – but he commits an act of wanton sacrilege – the slaughtering of holy cattle. Eurylochus is a salient negative exemplar of disorder in a Platonic sense. He leads Odysseus’ men astray by his inability to be ruled and to rule himself. In this way, the “society” of Odysseus’ crew is profoundly disordered, far-removed from the ideal society Socrates envisions in the Republic. Odysseus’ crew is ruled by appetite rather than reason. Moreover, they have a dangerous lack of obedience and piety. Eurylochus’ view of death, moreover, which Socrates suppresses through implied censorship, is thoroughly wrong-headed from the point of view of the Republic. Eurylochus calls all forms of death “hateful” to “wretched mortals” (πάντες μὲν στυγεροὶ θάνατοι

389 δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι, 341). Plato’s Socrates, however, has since the beginning of the Republic challenged such a view, ever since his initial conversation with Cephalus who claimed that all men feel a “foreboding and fear” (Rep. 1.330e4) as they near death. Socrates’ direct response to such an attitude in Book 3 was to censor those stories which disparage death (cf. especially Quotations 11-17). In the same way, Socrates censors Eurylochus’ opinion about the wretchedness of death here. In the Republic as a whole, Socrates will work to revise this poetic viewpoint, to substitute it with his own philosophic one that presents the good hope that the soul survives bodily death and transmigrates to the world of the Forms.

Allusion 26: Plato Rep. 3.404b12-c1 : Homer Il. 9.360223 & Allusion 27: Plato Rep. 3.404b12-c1 : Homer Il. 1.462-466; 7.316-318; Od. 3.65-66; et al.224 Interpretive Context In Plato, Socrates is discussing the gymnastic half of his educational curriculum, having previously treated music and poetry. Socrates is careful to point out that the value of physical training falls far below that of “soul-training.” He wants to treat bodily training in summary fashion and argues that an ordered body follows naturally provided that the soul itself is already ordered: “if we have devoted sufficient care to the mind, wouldn’t we be right, in order to avoid

223

See Lesser Hippias 370b4-c3, where the broader context of this line is quoted: Il. 9.357-63. Other dining scenes in Homer with similar language include Il. 2.427-9, 24.623-4, Od. 3.45962, 470, 12.364-5, 14.430-1, 19.422-3, and 20.279-80. 224

390 having to do too much talking, to entrust to it the detailed supervision of the body, while we indicate only the general patterns to be followed?” (Rep. 3.403d3-5). In setting forth his curriculum for the body, Socrates proposes and rejects a diet like that which is recommended for athletes. He argues that such a diet causes “sluggishness” (ὑπνώδης, Rep. 3.404a4) and is “of doubtful value for health” (σφαλερὰ πρὸς ὑγίειαν, Rep. 3.404a4-5). In this way, Socrates devalues the body yet further and challenges the conventional Greek point of view that values athletic excellence very highly.225 Socrates proposes a special diet for warriors, one that mirrors their musical and poetic training: “Now, isn’t the best physical training akin to the simple music and poetry we were describing a moment ago?” (ἆρ᾽ οὖν ἡ βελτίστη γυμναστικὴ ἀδελφή τις ἂν εἴη τῆς ἁπλῆς μουσικῆς ἣν ὀλίγον πρότερον διῇμεν, Rep. 3.404b4-5). When pressed by Glaucon to explain what he means, Socrates cites Homer as his authority, saying that one can learn from Homer what sort of diet is best for soldiers. His citation, when examined closely, however, is hardly flattering to Homer or lacking in irony, an interpretation of the passage that we shall explore in detail below. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.404b3-c8 Ἆρ’ οὖν ἡ βελτίστη γυμναστικὴ ἀδελφή τις ἂν εἴη τῆς ἁπλῆς μουσικῆς ἣν ὀλίγον πρότερον διῇμεν; Πῶς λέγεις; Ἁπλῆ που καὶ ἐπιεικὴς γυμναστική, καὶ μάλιστα ἡ τῶν περὶ τὸν πόλεμον. Πῇ δή; Καὶ παρ’ Ὁμήρου, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, τά γε τοιαῦτα μάθοι ἄν 225

5

10

For a similar challenge in the Platonic corpus to the value of bodily or athletic excellence, see Socrates’ proposed counter-penalty at Apology 36d-37a, where he argues that he ought to be fed at state expense in the Prytaneum, not unlike Olympic victors, so that he has the leisure to improve the souls of his fellow citizens. The implication here is that as champion of the mind, Socrates ought to be treated at least as well as a champion of the body.

391 τις. οἶσθα γὰρ ὅτι ἐπὶ στρατιᾶς ἐν ταῖς τῶν ἡρώων [(26)((27) ἑστιάσεσιν) οὔτε ἰχθύσιν (αὐτοὺς ἑστιᾷ,) καὶ ταῦτα ἐπὶ θαλάττῃ ἐν Ἑλλησπόντῳ ὄντας,] (οὔτε ἑφθοῖς κρέασιν) ἀλλὰ μόνον ὀπτοῖς, ἃ δὴ μάλιστ’ ἂν εἴη στρατιώταις εὔπορα· πανταχοῦ γὰρ ὡς ἔπος εἰπεῖν αὐτῷ τῷ πυρὶ χρῆσθαι εὐπορώτερον ἢ ἀγγεῖα συμπεριφέρειν. Καὶ μάλα. Οὐδὲ μὴν ἡδυσμάτων, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι, Ὅμηρος πώποτε ἐμνήσθη. ἢ τοῦτο μὲν καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι ἀσκηταὶ ἴσασιν, ὅτι τῷ μέλλοντι σώματι εὖ ἕξειν ἀφεκτέον τῶν τοιούτων ἁπάντων;

c

5

[Socrates:] “Now isn’t the best physical training akin to the simple music and poetry we were describing a moment ago?” [Glaucon:] “How do you mean?” “I mean a simple and decent physical training, particularly the kind involved in training for war.” “What would it be like?” “You might learn that even from Homer. You know that, when his heroes are campaigning, [(26) ((27) he doesn’t give them) fish to banquet on, even though they are by the sea in the Hellespont,] (nor boiled meat. Instead, he gives them roasted meat,) which is the kind most easily available to soldiers, for it’s easier nearly everywhere to use fire alone than to carry pots and pans.” “That’s right.” “Nor, I believe, does Homer mention sauces anywhere. Indeed, aren’t even the other athletes aware that, if one’s body is to be sound, one must keep away from such things?” Allusion 26 Homer Il. 9.359-361 ὄψεαι, αἴ κ᾽ ἐθέλῃσθα καὶ αἴ κέν τοι τὰ μεμήλῃ, ἦρι μάλ᾽ Ἑλλήσποντον ἐπ᾽ ἰχθυόεντα πλεούσας νῆας ἐμάς ...

360

then you will see, if you so will it and care to do so, my ships at early dawn sailing over the fishteeming Hellespont ... Allusion 27 Homer Il. 1.462-466 καῖε δ᾽ ἐπὶ σχίζῃς ὁ γέρων, ἐπὶ δ᾽ αἴθοπα οἶνον λεῖβε· νέοι δὲ παρ᾽ αὐτὸν ἔχον πεμπώβολα χερσίν. αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατὰ μῆρε κάη καὶ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο,

= Od. 3.459 = Od. 3.460 = Il. 2.427 ≈ Od.3.461, 12.364

392 μίστυλλόν τ᾽ ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφ᾽ ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειραν, 465 = Il. 2.428; Od. 3.462, 12.365, 14.430 ὤπτησάν τε περιφραδέως, ἐρύσαντό τε πάντα. = Il. 2.429; Od. 14.431 ≈ Od. 19.423 And the old man burned [the meat] on stakes of wood, and made libation over them of gleaming wine; and beside him the young men held in their hands the five-pronged forks. But when the thigh-pieces were wholly burned, and they had tasted the entrails, they cut up the rest and spitted it, and roasted it carefully, and drew all off the spits. Homer Il. 7.316-318 τὸν δέρον ἀμφί θ’ ἕπον, καί μιν διέχευαν ἅπαντα, μίστυλλόν τ’ ἄρ’ ἐπισταμένως πεῖράν τ’ ὀβελοῖσιν, ὄπτησάν τε περιφραδέως, ἐρύσαντό τε πάντα.

= Il. 24.623; Od. 19.422 = Il. 24.624

They flayed and dressed [the bull], and cut up all the limbs. Then they sliced these cunningly, and spitted them and roasted them carefully and drew all off the spits. Homer Od. 3.65-66 οἱ δ᾽ ἐπεί ὤπτησαν κρέ᾽ ὑπέρτερα καὶ ἐρύσαντο, μοίρας δασσάμενοι δαίνυντ᾽ ἐρικυδέα δαῖτα.

65

= Od. 3.470, 20.279 = Od. 20.280

Then when they had roasted the outer flesh and drawn it off the spits, they divided the portions and feasted a glorious feast. Interpretation The tone and import of Socrates’ concession to Homer’s “authority” here is difficult to unpack. It is important to note first that it comes in the context, as noted above, of Socrates being at pains to downplay the importance of diet and the body in general. As he says himself, he does not want to spend too much time talking about a subject, the care of the body, that is trivial compared to a concern for the care of the soul (cf. Rep. 3.403d3-5). That this is the one area where Homer displays some kind of expertise is thoroughly ironic;226 it is only in a matter of

226

On Homer and the poets’ lack of knowledge about the various crafts they discuss, see esp. Rep. 10.598-601.

393 little or passing significance that we ought to consult Homer. In the citations below, we shall see how Socrates continues to mock Homer’s “expertise” in food. Indeed, even this expertise is granted haltingly by Socrates, given that it is introduced by a qualifying καὶ (b10): “even Homer” could testify to the fact that a simple diet is best. A further aspect of subtle humor at Homer’s expense comes in Socrates’ reference to fish. He points out approvingly that Homer does not depict his heroes dining on fish, despite the fact that they are by the Hellespont. He makes oblique reference here to Homer’s epithet describing the Hellespont as “fish-teeming” (ἰχθυόεντα, Il. 9.360).227 Thus, Socrates alludes to a logical inconsistency in Homer’s use of a common epithet: what is the point of calling the sea “fish-teeming” if those fish are never consumed? Part of Plato’s approbation of Homer here, however, does seem to be genuine, albeit somewhat opportunistic. Both authors eschew the consumption of fish; they just happen to do so for very different reasons. For Homer, fish is a food of starvation,228 the consumption,

227

See also the use of ἰχθυόεντα (in its various forms) to describe or modify πόντον: Il. 9.4; 19.378; Od. 4.381; 390; 424; 470; 516; 5.420; 9.83; 10.540; 23.317; πόντῳ: Il. 16.746; Od. 10.458; Ὕλλῳ: Il. 20.392; κέλευθα: Od. 3.177. 228 Aristarchus first made this observation about fish in Homer. On fish as a starvation food, see, e.g., Od. 12.329-32, where Odysseus’ men go fishing after having survived their encounter with Scylla and Charybdis: “But when all the stores had been consumed from out the ship, and now they must needs roam about in search of game, fishes, and fowl, and whatever might come to their hands—fishing with bent hooks, for hunger gnawed their bellies.” The very same phrase “for hunger gnawed their bellies” is used in the only other instance of fish-eating in the epics at Od. 4.369, where Menelaus speaks of his crew’s need to consume fish when they were stranded in Egypt. When fish and fishing are referenced elsewhere in the epic they are referenced negatively. Fishing, for example, is used quite often as a metaphor to describe the slaughter of men (cf. Il. 16.406-8; Od. 10.124; 12.251-4; 22.383-8). Fish in Homer, like birds and dogs, are animals that feed on the flesh of fallen heroes or may even attack a man (cf., e.g., Il. 21.122-7; 201 ff.; 24.82; Od. 5.421; 14.133-6; 15.477-80; 24.291-2). Combellack (1953) argues persuasively that fish is avoided as a food in Homer – like birds and dogs – precisely because they are viewed as man-eaters in the epics. As Hainsworth (1993, ad Il. 9.4) puts it, “fish eats man in the heroic world ... not vice versa.” Householder and Nagy (1972, 768) argue that “the

394 preparation, and procuring of which is far below the dignity of the Homeric heroes. This, at least, is the interpretation offered by Athenaeus – and since echoed by innumerable modern commentators – on the absence of fish from the diet of the Homeric heroes; fish is simply not a food suitable for heroes of high rank: The poet is silent about the eating of vegetables, fish, and birds because it is a mark of gluttony and also because it would appear unseemly to spend time preparing them, since he considers such things beneath the level of heroic and god-like deeds.229 For Plato, fish is not a food of starvation but a food of luxury, consumed – except in the case of tuna – outside the bounds of sacrificial ritual, served with rich and exotic sauces, and purchased at considerable expense in the public marketplace.230 In Plato, fish is an indicator of dietary excess that leads to moral degeneracy.231

original selection of ἰχθυόεις was probably motivated not by a striving for fanciful description of the sea, but rather by the implication of lurking danger.” 229 Athenaeus (The Deipnosophistae 1.25d). 230 On the nature of the fish trade and how this industry contributed to the luxury status of fish consumption in Attica, see Davidson (1997, esp. 62); on the price of fish see Davidson (1993, 55). On fish elsewhere in the Platonic corpus, see Laws 7.823d7-e1, where the consumption of fish is seen to have such a corrupting influence that the Athenian imagines a lawgiver recommending against the practice of fishing as follows: “Friends, we hope you’ll never be seized by a desire or passion to fish in the sea or to angle or indeed to hunt water animals at all...” See also Rep. 2.372d-373a on the rise of the luxurious city where the consumption of “delicacies” (ὄψα, e1) – a word typically used to describe fish – is associated with the rise of injustice. As the LSJ notes, ὄψον is practically synonymous with fish in Classical Athens (cf. Plutarch (2.667 ff.): πολλῶν ὄντων ὄψων ἐκνενίκηκεν ὁ ἰχθὺς μόνος ἢ μάλιστά γε ὄψον καλεῖσθαι.). 231 On the association of sexual license and the uncontrolled desire for the consumption of luxury fishes, see Davidson (1993, 64; 1997). See also Charmides 163b on the association of fish and prostitution. For a brief but comprehensive survey of Plato’s writings on food and diet, see Skiadas (2001).

395 What Plato does in this citation, then, is to impose his own attitude about fish and dietary excesses on Homer.232 He acts as if he and the great poetic authority of Greece are in accord, despite the fact that they censure the consumption of fish for very different reasons. In this way, Plato accomplishes a dual purpose in this citation: he undermines the authority of Homer through his ironic, dismissive reference to his expertise, yet at the same time uses this very authority to bolster his own views on diet. The result is a comically serious attack on both Homer and dietary excesses in general.

Quotation 35: Plato Rep. 5.468d2-3 : Homer Il. 7.321 (Cf. Homer Od. 14.437) Interpretive Context At Rep. 5.468a ff. Socrates is conversing with Glaucon about the guardians’ conduct in war, namely how cowardice should be punished and bravery rewarded. There are many parallels in this citation to Allusions 26 & 27 above: Homer is called on as an “expert witness”; the poet’s expertise is brought to bear on a question of food; his expertise is cited using a disparaging particle. While Socrates used καὶ (b10) above – “we can learn this even from Homer” – here Socrates uses a γε (d7) to limit the extent to which Homer should ever be used as an expert: 232

In this respect, Garnsey (1999, 75) is right to call this citation “the first comment on the Homeric diet in a moralistic tone in extant Greek literature.” Garnsey could have also considered the comic poets as moralizers as well, despite their lighter tone. Beginning with Aristophanes and reaching a new height in the fragments of Middle Comedy, references to the cooking of fish, eels, and shopping lists for fish-dishes, fish soups, and so on, abound. For a detailed account of the material, see Davidson (1993). As Wilkins (1996, 60) points out, public figures like Callimedon, Philocrates, and Hyperides were satirized for their devotion to fish as “fish were charged with both moral and political significance in Athens.” Davidson (1993, 54) also notes Aristophanes’ and Eupolis’ mockery of Cleon’s and Callias’ excessive interest in fish.

396 “Then we’ll follow Homer in these matters at least.” Adam writes that “γε reminds us that Homer is not in other respects a persona grata in our city.”233 Socrates cites an example of how bravery is awarded in Homer by quoting Il. 7.321, where Agamemnon awards Ajax with the choicest cut of the roast, the chine, after his battle with Hector. This referent is not entirely unambiguous, however, because of a textual problem that we will discuss in detail below under Textual Differences. At any rate, Socrates – with a good measure of irony – commends the act of rewarding the chine, though it is clear that rewards of this kind are valuable in his ideal city only insofar as they maintain and encourage a beneficial division of labor and so uphold the “truth” of the mythical foundations of the city as narrated in the so-called Noble Lie (cf. Rep. 3.414-417). As Socrates argues, if the honor-loving guardians are rewarded well for proving their “silver nature,” they will be eager to carry out the most important aspect of their job: the defense of the city’s laws. Thus, following the Homeric citation, Socrates spares no rewards himself for his would-be guardians. Indeed, the rewards he suggests reach a certain comic pitch in their excesses.234 He recommends, for example, crowns and wreaths for guardians who prove their bravery on campaign, elaborate funerary honors, the singing of hymns, and, among many other things, the constant awarding of kisses and even extra “breeding” opportunities (cf. 3.468b-469b). Shorey remarks negatively on “the deplorable facetiousness” of the passage,235 but Socrates merely wants to make it abundantly clear – all the while misappropriating and mocking the authority of Homer – that the guardians must be made

233

Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc; see P. Murray ([1996] 2007, ad 598e2) on a comparable use of γε in Plato: “The γε suggests ironic disbelief. S. had already exposed the dangers of treating poets as moralists and theologians in the earlier discussion at 364a-365d and at 377d5-392c5.” 234 See Bosanquet (1895, ad loc.), who writes, “The utilitarian turn given to the Homeric honors of the banquet is meant to throw a touch of comedy and unreality over these suggestions.” 235 Shorey [1969] 1982, ad loc.

397 happy in order to maintain harmony in the state and stave off such things as civil war. The fact that Plato’s Socrates can subtly parody the types of honors available in Homer – those of the body which incidentally create stasis rather than relieve it (cf. Rep. 5.464a ff.) – makes the citation all the more useful for him. There is also a subtle reference in the citation to the military training practices of Sparta, to be discussed below. Original Context Plato Rep. 5.468c10-d7 Ἀλλὰ μὴν καὶ καθ’ Ὅμηρον τοῖς τοιοῖσδε δίκαιον τιμᾶν τῶν νέων ὅσοι ἀγαθοί. καὶ γὰρ Ὅμηρος τὸν εὐδοκιμήσαντα ἐν τῷ πολέμῳ [νώτοισιν Αἴαντα] ἔφη [διηνεκέεσσι γεραίρεσθαι,] ὡς ταύτην οἰκείαν οὖσαν τιμὴν τῷ ἡβῶντί τε καὶ ἀνδρείῳ, ἐξ ἧς ἅμα τῷ τιμᾶσθαι καὶ τὴν ἰσχὺν αὐξήσει. Ὀρθότατα, ἔφη. Πεισόμεθα ἄρα, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ταῦτά γε Ὁμήρῳ.

10 d

5

[Socrates:] “Indeed, according to Homer too, it is just [δίκαιον, c10] to honor in such ways those young people who are good, for, when he distinguished himself in battle, [‘Ajax,’] he says, [‘for his honor was given the long chine.’] And that’s an appropriate honor for a courageous young man, since it will both honor him and increase his strength.” [Glaucon:] “That’s absolutely right.” “Then we’ll follow Homer in these matters at least.” Homer Il. 7.313-322 οἳ δ’ ὅτε δὴ κλισίῃσιν ἐν Ἀτρεί̈δαο γένοντο, τοῖσι δὲ βοῦν ἱέρευσεν ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν Ἀγαμέμνων ἄρσενα πενταέτηρον ὑπερμενέϊ Κρονίωνι. τὸν δέρον ἀμφί θ’ ἕπον, καί μιν διέχευαν ἅπαντα, μίστυλλόν τ’ ἄρ’ ἐπισταμένως πεῖράν τ’ ὀβελοῖσιν, ὄπτησάν τε περιφραδέως, ἐρύσαντό τε πάντα. αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ παύσαντο πόνου τετύκοντό τε δαῖτα, δαίνυντ’, οὐδέ τι θυμὸς ἐδεύετο δαιτὸς ἐί̈σης· [νώτοισιν δ’ Αἴαντα διηνεκέεσσι γέραιρεν] ἥρως Ἀτρεί̈δης εὐρὺ κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων.

315

320

And when they were now come to the huts of the son of Atreus, then did the king of men, Agamemnon slay there a bull, a male of five years, for the son of Cronos, supreme in might. This

398 they flayed and dressed, and cut up all the limbs. Then they sliced these cunningly, and spitted them and roasted them carefully and drew all off the spits. But when they had ceased from their labor and had made ready the meal, they feasted, nor did their hearts lack anything of the equal feast. [And Ajax for his honor was given the long chine] by the warrior son of Atreus, wideruling Agamemnon.

Cross-Reference At Odyssey 14.437, Eumaeus, in a moment of paradigmatic xenia and piety, offers Odysseus beggar the chine. The line is identical to Il. 7.321 below, save for the substitution of Odysseus’ name for that of Ajax. Homer Od. 14.437 [νώτοισιν δ’ Ὀδυσῆα διηνεκέεσσι γέραιρεν] Texts Plato Rep. 5.468d1-3 καὶ γὰρ Ὅμηρος τὸν εὐδοκιμήσαντα ἐν τῷ πολέμῳ [νώτοισιν Αἴαντα] ἔφη [διηνεκέεσσι γεραίρεσθαι,]

d

d2 Αἴαντα] Αἴαντα post correctionem Homer Il. 7.321 [νώτοισιν δ’ Αἴαντα διηνεκέεσσι γέραιρεν] Textual Differences Plato’s citation of Homer is – to borrow Howes’ term – “woven” into his own text. Thus, the changes that appear below are minor. While Plato adapts Homer’s oratio recta into oratio obliqua, he follows the poet’s word order and vocabulary nearly exactly.

399 1) δ’ (321) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] As Labarbe notes, the particle δὲ in its new context in Socrates’ sentence is unnecessary: “La particule δὲ tombe dans cette adaptation, car l’isolement du vers lui enlevait toute valeur.”236 As Socrates is not interested in accuracy for accuracy’s sake, he drops Homer’s δὲ. 2) Αἴαντα (d2 [post correctionem]) : Αἴαντα (321) [Intentional Omission; Editorial Error] If I read Slings’ critical apparatus correctly,237 Αἴαντα is not present in the Platonic MSS. themselves, but has been added as a correction. The correction is useful in that it makes Socrates’ reference to Il. 7.321 abundantly clear. Yet, it does not follow necessarily that Αἴαντα was part of the Platonic original. I think that it is rather more likely – particularly given the evidence of the MSS. themselves – that Plato omitted Ajax’s name on purpose so as to comment generally rather than specifically on the practice of using meat as a reward in Homer. Αἴαντα is not needed after all to make it clear that Socrates’ primary referent is Il. 7.321 rather that Od. 14.437. The context of Od. 14.437 is not germane to Socrates’ broader point. Socrates is discussing how martial bravery can be rewarded. At Od. 14.347 Eumaeus grants Odysseusbeggar the chine out of respect for him as a guest, not because of his bravery on the battlefield. 3) γεραίρεσθαι (d3) : γέραιρεν (321) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Here the infinitive γεραίρεσθαι appears in Plato’s text in place of Homer’s finite verb form γέραιρεν. The change is made here to accommodate Plato’s use of oratio obliqua, set up by ἔφη (d2). 236

Labarbe 1949, 459. Slings’ apparatus reads only post, which I assume is an abbreviated form of post correctionem.

237

400 Interpretation Socrates’ use of Homer here operates on two levels. Firstly, he defers to Homer as an authority, yet does so in an area, honor-through-food, that is hardly dignified. Secondly, he offers implicit praise for a military honor that is just as much Spartan as it is Homeric. Ultimately, Socrates is commenting more broadly on integrating the timocratic element of society, the guardian class, best exemplified in Classical Greece by Sparta, into a just society. For while a warrior class is necessary, such a class of honor-lovers can easily become too savage or draw the state into stasis through their competition for honors. To take the Homeric level first, Halliwell’s commentary on this passage is particularly germane. He points out how Plato – as is so often the case – uses Homer as an authority, yet only under the auspices of the philosophical argument. Homer, in effect, is exploited in order to strengthen a philosophical point: Poetry is certainly being employed as a source of, in the broadest sense, ethical paradigms … But the reader of this section of the Republic could hardly suppose that the poets are being treated as unquestionable authorities ... What we now see, in this stretch of Book 5, is that such approbation always implies the superior judgement of the philosophical interpreter … The result is that Plato’s own text, using dramatic voices to shape its own logoi, seems to aim both to ‘absorb’ and to supersede the Homeric and Hesiodic motifs which it cites, since the purpose is not so much to confirm the contents of the poetic sources as to exploit them in the process of creating a new philosophical ideal of guardians who can occupy the role of ‘heroes’ in both the military and the religious sense of the word. In this as in so many other respects, the Republic reinterprets features of traditional thought by translating them into a new vision of human possibilities.”238 The citation is also a commentary on the way in which the timocratic element can be made useful to the state. It is no coincidence that Socrates refers to a practice – the awarding of the 238

Halliwell 2000, 108.

401 chine – that is both Homeric and Spartan. Herodotus notes at Histories 6.56.1 that to take the chine (τὰ νῶτα) of any animal sacrificed at the start of a military expedition was one of the special honors of Spartan kings. The extent to which Socrates uses Sparta as both a positive and a negative exemplar for his ideal republic is well-documented in scholarship.239 As a positive model, Socrates takes Sparta’s constitution as that which is but one remove from the ideal (cf. Rep. 8.544c), in sharp contrast to Athens’ democratic constitution that is superior only to the worst form of constitution, a genuine tyranny. Where Socrates borrows most heavily from the Spartan model is in the system of military training he adopts for the guardian class. Appropriately enough, Sparta serves as the model for the organization and education of the thumoeidic element of society. It is important to note, however, that Sparta does not serve as a positive paradigm in the Republic in any other respect. While a thumoeidic element is important to have in a just society, it must be carefully controlled. In short, it must submit to and serve the ruling, reasoning element. If this arrangement does not occur, a state dominated by the thumoeidic element is doomed to fail. As Socrates points out in his discussion of various constitutions and their weaknesses (cf. Rep. 4.445c ff. & 8.543b ff.), a timocratic state is easily corrupted by the influx of wealth – no doubt a commentary on Sparta’s degeneracy following its

239

Jowett & Campbell (1894, clxx-xxi) remains the best synopsis of the Spartan features that are present in Socrates’ ideal Republic. In the following list I largely follow Jowett & Campbell, though I augment them in several instances: the prohibition of gold and silver, common meals for men, the military training of the youth, women’s gymnastics, suppressed foreign trade, the exposure of children, community property, the rejection of novel poetry and focus on hymns to the gods, the council of elders, the avoidance of despoiling the dead or offering arms at temples, the use of warfare for defense rather than aggression, and finally the precept that the warrior class not participate in agriculture, trade, or crafts. Jowett & Campbell note in addition some of Socrates’ implicit criticisms of Sparta in the Republic as do Lindsay ([1908] 1957, xxx) and most recently Klosko (1986).

402 victory in the Peloponnesian War.240 It is also subject to stasis, as its members constantly vie with one another for honors. Finally, the courage of the thumoeidic man (and thus the society of which he is a part) too easily devolves into animalistic savagery. It is for this reason that Socrates devotes time at Rep. 3.404 to discuss the importance of the guardians having a balanced character, a measure of “savagery” (ἀγριότητός, d1) and “harshness” (σκληρότητος, d1) on the one hand, and “softness” (μαλακίας, d1) and “gentleness” (ἡμερότητος, d2) on the other.241 The only way to achieve this balance, as Socrates argues, is to adopt the kind of educational system he recommends, one that cultivates the right measure of softness through music and poetry, and the right measure of harshness by strict (Spartan-like) military training. In Plato’s system, true courage (and hence justice) arises when this balance is struck, when the thumoeidic soul is directed to defend that which the reasoning element values: the laws.

Quotation 36: Plato Rep. 5.468d10-e1 : Homer Il. 8.162; 12.311 (Cf. Homer Il. 4.262) Interpretive Context In Plato, this citation follows immediately after Quotation 35 directly above. Socrates cites Homer once again to offer facetious praise on the way Homer honors his heroes. Once again, Homer’s rewards concern food. Socrates has fun with such rewards noting that they are doubly useful as they both honor the man and aid his training by providing him with nutritional sustenance.

240 241

See Alcibiades 122e-123a on the vast quantities of gold present in Sparta. For a detailed commentary on this section of the Republic, see Quotation 2.

403 Socrates’ precise Homeric referent is ambiguous, as Labarbe first noted. 242 He refers either to Il. 8.162 or Il. 12.311, lines in Homer that are identical except for the use of a numoveable in Il. 12.311. At Il. 8.162, Hector is chiding Diomedes for having fled from battle, saying how he will be scorned rather than honored by his fellow Greeks. At Il. 12.311 the Lycian heroes Sarpedon and Glaucus comment on how greatly they are both held in honor on account of their excellence on the battlefield. Finally, at Il. 4.262, Agamemnon praises Idomeneus in terms similar to Il. 8.162 and Il. 12.311. The language of Il. 4.262 is not similar enough, however, to the aforementioned Homeric passages to warrant consideration as a referent for Socrates’ citation. At Il. 4.262, Agamemnon mentions the honors Idomeneus receives in terms of drink only, whereas Il. 8.162 and Il. 12.311 mention “seats of honor” and meat as well. Original Context Plato Rep. 5.468d7e2 ... καὶ γὰρ ἡμεῖς ἔν τε θυσίαις καὶ τοῖς τοιούτοις πᾶσι τοὺς ἀγαθούς, καθ’ ὅσον ἂν ἀγαθοὶ φαίνωνται, καὶ ὕμνοις καὶ οἷς νυνδὴ ἐλέγομεν τιμήσομεν, πρὸς δὲ τούτοις [ἕδραις τε καὶ κρέασιν ἰδὲ πλείοις δεπάεσσιν,] ἵνα ἅμα τῷ τιμᾶν ἀσκῶμεν τοὺς ἀγαθοὺς ἄνδρας τε καὶ γυναῖκας.

10 e

[Socrates:] “And insofar as good people have shown themselves to be good, we’ll honor them at sacrifices and all such occasions with hymns, and also [‘with seats of honor, meats, and full cups,’] and in all other ways we mentioned, so that, in addition to honoring good men and women, we’ll continue to train them.” Homer Il. 8.160-163 τῷ δ’ ἐπὶ μακρὸν ἄϋσε μέγας κορυθαίολος Ἕκτωρ· Τυδεί̈δη περὶ μέν σε τίον Δαναοὶ ταχύπωλοι [ἕδρῃ τε κρέασίν τε ἰδὲ πλείοις δεπάεσσι·] νῦν δέ σ’ ἀτιμήσουσι· γυναικὸς ἄρ’ ἀντὶ τέτυξο. 242

160

Labarbe (1949, 294): “Il est impossible de déterminer auquel des deux passages Platon fait allusion.”

404 Over him then shouted aloud great Hector of the flashing helm: Son of Tydeus, above all others were the Danaans with swift steeds wont to honor you [with a seat of honor, and meats, and full cups,] but now will they scorn you; you are, it appears, no better than a woman. Homer Il. 12.310-312 Γλαῦκε τί ἢ δὴ νῶϊ τετιμήμεσθα μάλιστα [ἕδρῃ τε κρέασίν τε ἰδὲ πλείοις δεπάεσσιν] ἐν Λυκίῃ, πάντες δὲ θεοὺς ὣς εἰσορόωσι,

310

Glaucus, why is it that we are held in honor above all [with a seat of honor, and meats, and full cups] in Lycia, and all men gaze upon us as on gods? Cross-Reference Homer Il. 4.257-264 Ἰδομενεῦ περὶ μέν σε τίω Δαναῶν ταχυπώλων ἠμὲν ἐνὶ πτολέμῳ ἠδ᾽ ἀλλοίῳ ἐπὶ ἔργῳ ἠδ᾽ ἐν δαίθ᾽, ὅτε πέρ τε γερούσιον αἴθοπα οἶνον Ἀργείων οἳ ἄριστοι ἐνὶ κρητῆρι κέρωνται. εἴ περ γάρ τ᾽ ἄλλοι γε κάρη κομόωντες Ἀχαιοὶ δαιτρὸν πίνωσιν, σὸν δὲ πλεῖον δέπας αἰεὶ ἕστηχ᾽, ὥς περ ἐμοί, πιέειν ὅτε θυμὸς ἀνώγοι. ἀλλ᾽ ὄρσευ πόλεμον δ᾽ οἷος πάρος εὔχεαι εἶναι.

260

[Agamemnon:] “Idomeneus, beyond all the Danaans with swift steeds do I show honor to you both in war and in tasks of other sort, and at the feast, when the chieftains of the Argives let mingle in the bowl the flaming wine of the elders. For even though the other long-haired Achaeans drink an allotted portion, your cup stands ever full, even as for my own self, to drink whensoever your heart bids you.” Texts Plato Rep. 5.468d10-e1 πρὸς δὲ τούτοις [ἕδραις τε καὶ κρέασιν ἰδὲ πλείοις δεπάεσσιν,] Homer Il. 8.162 [ἕδρῃ τε κρέασίν τε ἰδὲ πλείοις δεπάεσσι·]

10

405 Homer Il. 12.311 [ἕδρῃ τε κρέασίν τε ἰδὲ πλείοις δεπάεσσιν] Textual Differences 1) ἕδραις (d10) : ἕδρῃ (162 / 311) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Here Socrates pluralizes Homer’s noun ἕδρῃ in order to fit the word in with the rest of the pluralized honors he mentions, namely ὕμνοις ... κρέασιν ... δεπάεσσιν. Socrates is also generalizing the honor – making it applicable to all excellent warriors – unlike, as in the case of Iliad 8, Diomedes alone. Homer’s use of ἕδρῃ at Il. 12.311 is admittedly odd given that two heroes, Sarpedon and Glaucus, are granted a seat of honor. It appears, however, that the strength of the formulaic verse in Homer wins out over the strict logical usage of singulars and plurals.243 2-3) τε καὶ ... ἰδὲ (d10-e1) : τε ... τε ἰδὲ (162 / 311) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] The fact that Socrates changes Homer’s sequence of coordinating conjunctions is hardly unprecedented in the Republic’s Homeric citations.244 Such a change, however, does disrupt the original, hexameter rhythm. It has been demonstrated in many instances in this study, the extent to which Plato does not pay attention to the strict preservation of Homer’s meters.245 In this respect, this citation is hardly unique. 4) δεπάεσσιν (e1) : δεπάεσσι (162) [Minor Variant] [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience]

243

On this point, see Hainsworth (1993, ad. Il. 12.311). See, e.g., Quotation 1, 21, and 35. 245 Quotations 1, 3, 8, 9, 20 and Paraphrase 4, et al. 244

406 The fact that Plato’s δεπάεσσιν, with its nu-movable, follows Il. 12.311 exactly, rather than Il. 8.162 (with the nu-movable), is hardly evidence that this is the “true” referent Plato had in mind. The nu-movable is natural in Plato given that δεπάεσσιν precedes a vowel. Interpretation As above in Quotation 35, Socrates treats Homeric expertise here ironically. He recognizes the importance of honoring the thumoeidic element in society, yet Homeric honors – food and drink – feed only the appetitive desires, thus reinforcing the relationship between the appetitive and spirited parts of the soul, rather than reinforcing the relationship between the spirited and rational elements of the soul. It is perhaps for this reason that Socrates augments Homer’s list in one way. He introduces into the citation the idea of using hymns as well to honor guardians who exhibit bravery in warfare. As Socrates will argue later in Book 10 of the Republic, hymns are among the only sorts of poetry that he considers allowing into his ideal state: “hymns to the gods and eulogies to good people are the only poetry we can admit into our city” (Rep. 10.607a3-5).246 In this way, Socrates is able to use Homer’s authority to help prove his point. Yet in editing the words of the poet, he can revise the initial thought to make it serve the aims of his philosophic argument.

8. Appetitive Moderation: Medicine Δεῖ ἄρα καὶ πόλιν καὶ ψυχὴν τὴν μέλλουσαν ὀρθῶς βιώσεσθαι ταύτης τῆς ἐπιστήμης ἀντέχεσθαι, ἀτεχνῶς ὥσπερ ἀσθενοῦντα ἰατροῦ. (Plato Second Alcibiades 146e4-6)

246

On the value of hymns in Plato, see also Laws 7.801e ff. and 8.829e.

407 If the life of a soul or a state is to go aright, the knowledge of what is best must be embraced with exactly the kind of trust a patient has in his doctor.

Allusion 28: Plato Rep. 3.405e1, 406c2-3, 407e4, 408b6247 (Cf. Plato Phaedrus 270c3) : Homer Il. 2.731; 4.194, 204; 11.518, 614; 14.2 Allusion 29: Plato Rep. 3.405e1-2 : Homer Il. 11.582-584 Allusion 30: Plato Rep. 3.405e2-406a2; 408b1-2 (Cf. Plato Ion 538b7-c3) : Homer Il. 11.638641 & Allusion 31: Plato Rep. 3.406a2; 408a7 : Homer Il. 11.842-848 Interpretive Context We learn in the Republic that physicians are necessary in the city only with the introduction of luxury (cf. Rep. 2.371e-373c). Socrates introduces the citations of our present inquiry by defining the role he believes physicians ought to play in his ideal city. He is interested in limiting the use of medicine as much as possible.248 He argues that the function of medicine is not to cure ailments that are preventable, that is to say, those caused by vice. Rather, medicine is an ad hoc art, used to treat actual physical injuries (as in Homer) as they occur, or to prevent sickness in the first place. He argues that a physician ought to act as something like a guardian of the body, warding off luxury and sloth from his patients so that the body does not fall into disorder in the first place.

247

This text is included immediately below in the Original Context of Quotation 37. The same is true of the second Platonic passages listed under Allusions 30 and 31. 248 See also Tim. 89c.

408 Socrates introduces the Homeric allusions noted above by saying how “shameful” (αἰσχρὸν, d4) it is to seek medical help for illness caused by idleness or a luxurious life-style (Rep. 3.405c8-d4; cf. also Rep. 4.426). He argues that in Homer’s day medicine was used by “the sons of Asclepius” (Allusion 28)249 – a common epithet in Homer for Machaon and Podaleirius, which later came to mean physicians in general –250 only on an ad hoc basis, to cure illnesses or injuries as they arose rather than chronic conditions. Thereafter he cites the wounding of Eurypylus (Allusion 29) at the hands of Paris, Hecamede’s treatment of the wounded using Pramnian wine (Allusion 30), and finally the medical aid Patroclus provides for Eurypylus (Allusion 31).251 Several of these allusions are invoked a second time at Rep. 3.407e ff. (cf. Quotation 37). The problem with Socrates’ allusions here – as many commentators have pointed out before – is that they seem not to be altogether accurate. Socrates seems to imply that Hecamede treated Eurypylus with Pramnian wine, though in our Homer – despite some textual problems and striking ambiguities in the passage in question – it seems she treated only Machaon.252 Commentators have also argued – in my opinion incorrectly – that Socrates seems to indicate incorrectly that “the sons of Asclepius,” Machaon and Podaleirius, were present to give their approval to the medical treatments administered by Hecamede and Patroclus.

249

See Quotation 37, Original Context for three other instances of this phrasing in Plato’s text. See, e.g., Theognis 432 and Rep. 10.599c with Adam ([1902] 2009, ad loc.). 251 See Quotation 37, where Socrates briefly refers to these episode. 252 Due to Plato’s “mistake” here, Ast, alone of modern editors – and surely incorrectly at that – calls into question both the genuineness of Εὐρυπύλῳ (e1) and οὐδὲ Πατρόκλῳ τῷ ἰωμένῳ (a2). 250

409 The oddest part about Socrates’ potential confusion here is that elsewhere in Plato, at Ion 538b7-c3, Socrates correctly states that Hecamede gives Pramnian wine to Machaon.253 With such difficulties to consider, then, after setting forth the relevant passages from Plato and Homer below, we shall comment on the significance of Socrates’ allusions generally and with special attention to their potential inaccuracy. I shall advance the argument, however, that the “mistakes” that Socrates makes here – if they are mistakes at all – are, in fact, intentional, a commentary on the confusing nature of the Homeric episodes themselves, a subtle bit of humor to complement the fun Socrates is already having treating Homer (and poetic texts generally) as viable and worthwhile authorities. Original Context My translation of the Platonic passage in the final paragraph spoken by Socrates differs considerably from other modern translations. I have tried to capture the ambiguity of the Greek in my English translation in order to demonstrate that Socrates’ reference to the medical treatments provided by Hecamede and Patroclus do not necessarily apply to Eurypylus specifically. Plato Rep. 3.405c8-406a3 Τὸ δὲ ἰατρικῆς, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, δεῖσθαι ὅτι μὴ τραυμάτων ἕνεκα ἤ τινων ἐπετείων νοσημάτων ἐπιπεσόντων, ἀλλὰ δι’ ἀργίαν τε καὶ δίαιταν οἵαν διήλθομεν, ῥευμάτων τε καὶ πνευμάτων ὥσπερ λίμνας ἐμπιμπλαμένους φύσας τε καὶ κατάρρους νοσήμασιν ὀνόματα τίθεσθαι ἀναγκάζειν τοὺς κομψοὺς Ἀσκληπιάδας, οὐκ αἰσχρὸν δοκεῖ; Καὶ μάλ’, ἔφη· ὡς ἀληθῶς καινὰ ταῦτα καὶ ἄτοπα νοσημάτων ὀνόματα. Οἷα, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ὡς οἶμαι, οὐκ ἦν ἐπ’ Ἀσκληπιοῦ. 253

d

5

There are, however, problems with the text of Socrates’ quotation here, all of which will be treated below in detail in the Cross-References section.

410 τεκμαίρομαι δέ, ὅτι [(28) αὐτοῦ οἱ ὑεῖς] ἐν Τροίᾳ [(29) Εὐρυπύλῳ e τετρωμένῳ] [(30) ἐπ’ οἶνον Πράμνειον ἄλφιτα πολλὰ ἐπιπασθέντα καὶ τυρὸν ἐπιξυσθέντα,] ἃ δὴ δοκεῖ φλεγματώδη εἶναι, οὐκ 406 ἐμέμψαντο [τῇ δούσῃ πιεῖν,] οὐδὲ [(31) Πατρόκλῳ τῷ ἰωμένῳ] ἐπετίμησαν. [Socrates:] “And doesn’t it seem shameful [αἰσχρὸν, d4] to you to need medical help, not for wounds or because of some seasonal illness, but because, through idleness and the lifestyle we’ve described, one is full of gas and phlegm like a stagnant swamp, so that ingenious [κομψοὺς, d4]254 Asclepiad doctors are forced to come up with names like ‘flatulence’ and ‘catarrh’ to describe one’s diseases?” [Glaucon:] “It does. And those certainly are strange [ἄτοπα, d5]255 new names for diseases.” “Indeed, I don’t suppose that they even existed in the time of Asclepius himself. I take it as a proof of this that [(28) his sons] at Troy, [(29) while Eurypylus was wounded,]256 didn’t censure [(30) the woman giving Pramnian wine to drink, sprinkled with much barley meal and grated cheese,] though such treatment is now thought to cause inflammation, nor did they reproach [(31) Patroclus, who was treating [him].]” Allusion 28 (“the sons of Asclepius”) Homer Il. 2.729-733 οἳ δ᾽ εἶχον Τρίκκην καὶ Ἰθώμην κλωμακόεσσαν, οἵ τ᾽ ἔχον Οἰχαλίην πόλιν Εὐρύτου Οἰχαλιῆος, τῶν αὖθ᾽ ἡγείσθην [Ἀσκληπιοῦ δύο παῖδε] ἰητῆρ᾽ ἀγαθὼ Ποδαλείριος ἠδὲ Μαχάων· τοῖς δὲ τριήκοντα γλαφυραὶ νέες ἐστιχόωντο.

730

And they that held Tricca and Ithome of the crags, and Oechalia, city of Oechalian Eurytus, these again were led by [the two sons of Asclepius,] the skilled leeches Podaleirius and Machaon. And with these were ranged thirty hollow ships. 254

See the LSJ on the “slight irony” of this term as used in Plato and Aristotle. The use of ἄτοπα here may indicate a pun, as in addition to meaning “strange” or even “foul,” the word could be used in medical contexts – its primary function – to indicate symptoms that are unwanted, unexpected, or otherwise out of the ordinary (cf. Hippocrates Aphorismi 4.52 [Littre]). 256 The dative phrase Εὐρυπύλῳ τετρωμένῳ (e1-2) could perhaps more easily be rendered in English, “for the wounded Eurypylus.” My translation, however, leaves open the possibility – as does Plato’s Greek if we take this dative as a Dative of Relation expressing time (cf. Smyth [1920] 1980, §1498) rather than as a Dative of Interest – that Plato does not mistake Eurypylus for Machaon, but that he refers generally to the episode in the epic wherein Eurypylus is wounded. Taking the sentence in this way thus eliminates any mistake on the part of Plato whatsoever. 255

411

Homer Il. 4.193-196, 204-206 Ταλθύβι᾽ ὅττι τάχιστα Μαχάονα δεῦρο κάλεσσον φῶτ᾽ [Ἀσκληπιοῦ υἱὸν] ἀμύμονος ἰητῆρος, ὄφρα ἴδῃ Μενέλαον ἀρήϊον Ἀτρέος υἱόν, ὅν τις ὀϊστεύσας ἔβαλεν τόξων ἐῢ εἰδὼς ... ὄρσ᾽ [Ἀσκληπιάδη,] καλέει κρείων Ἀγαμέμνων, ὄφρα ἴδῃς Μενέλαον ἀρήϊον ἀρχὸν Ἀχαιῶν, ὅν τις ὀϊστεύσας ἔβαλεν τόξων ἐῢ εἰδὼς ...

195

205

[Agamemnon:] “Talthybius, make haste to call here Machaon, [son of Asclepius,] the peerless leech, to see warlike Menelaus, son of Atreus, whom some man well skilled in archery has struck with an arrow...” [Talthybius to Machaon:] “Rouse yourself, [son of Asclepius;] lord Agamemnon calls you to see warlike Menelaus, captain of the Achaeans, whom some man, well skilled in archery, has struck with an arrow...” Homer Il. 11.517-518 αὐτίκα δ᾽ ὧν ὀχέων ἐπεβήσετο, πὰρ δὲ Μαχάων βαῖν᾽ [Ἀσκληπιοῦ υἱὸς] ἀμύμονος ἰητῆρος· Forthwith [Nestor] got upon his chariot, and beside him mounted Machaon, [the son of Asclepius] the peerless leech. Homer Il. 14.1-8 Νέστορα δ᾽ οὐκ ἔλαθεν ἰαχὴ πίνοντά περ ἔμπης, ἀλλ᾽ [Ἀσκληπιάδην] ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα· φράζεο δῖε Μαχᾶον ὅπως ἔσται τάδε ἔργα· μείζων δὴ παρὰ νηυσὶ βοὴ θαλερῶν αἰζηῶν. ἀλλὰ σὺ μὲν νῦν πῖνε καθήμενος αἴθοπα οἶνον εἰς ὅ κε θερμὰ λοετρὰ ἐϋπλόκαμος Ἑκαμήδη θερμήνῃ καὶ λούσῃ ἄπο βρότον αἱματόεντα· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐλθὼν τάχα εἴσομαι ἐς περιωπήν.

5

And the cry of battle was not unmarked of Nestor, albeit at his wine, but he spoke winged words to [the son of Asclepius:] “Consider, goodly Machaon, how these things are to be; louder in truth by the ships waxes the cry of lusty youths. How do you now sit where you are and drink the flaming wine, until fair-tressed Hecamede shall heat for you a warm bath, and wash from you the clotted blood, but I will go straightway to a place of outlook and see what is toward.”

412 Allusion 29 (“the wounding of Eurypylus”) Homer Il. 11.504-507, 581-584, 597-598, 611-614 οὐδ’ ἄν πω χάζοντο κελεύθου δῖοι Ἀχαιοὶ εἰ μὴ Ἀλέξανδρος Ἑλένης πόσις ἠϋκόμοιο παῦσεν ἀριστεύοντα Μαχάονα ποιμένα λαῶν, ἰῷ τριγλώχινι βαλὼν κατὰ δεξιὸν ὦμον. ... τὸν δ’ ὡς οὖν ἐνόησεν Ἀλέξανδρος θεοειδὴς τεύχε’ ἀπαινύμενον Ἀπισάονος, [αὐτίκα τόξον ἕλκετ’ ἐπ’ Εὐρυπύλῳ, καί μιν βάλε μηρὸν ὀϊστῷ δεξιόν·] ... Νέστορα δ’ ἐκ πολέμοιο φέρον Νηλήϊαι ἵπποι ἱδρῶσαι, ἦγον δὲ Μαχάονα ποιμένα λαῶν. ... ἀλλ’ ἴθι νῦν Πάτροκλε Διὶ̈ φίλε Νέστορ’ ἔρειο ὅν τινα τοῦτον ἄγει βεβλημένον ἐκ πολέμοιο· ἤτοι μὲν τά γ’ ὄπισθε Μαχάονι πάντα ἔοικε [τῷ Ἀσκληπιάδῃ,] ἀτὰρ οὐκ ἴδον ὄμματα φωτός·

505

581

597 611 [Allusion 28]

Yet would the god-like Achaeans in no wise have given ground from their course, had not Alexander, the lord of fair-haired Helen, stayed Machaon, shepherd of the host, in the midst of his valorous deeds, and struck him on the right shoulder with a three-barbed arrow. ... But when godlike Alexander marked him stripping the harness from Apisaon, [forthwith he drew his bow against Eurypylus, and struck him with an arrow on the right thigh...] But the mares of Neleus, all bathed in sweat, bare Nestor forth from the battle, and bare also Machaon, shepherd of the host ... [Achilles:] “Yet go now, Patroclus, dear to Zeus, and ask Nestor who it is that he brings wounded from out the war. Of a truth from behind he seems in all things like Machaon, [(28) son of Asclepius,] but I saw not the eyes of the man...” Allusion 30 (“Hecamede’s Pramnian wine posset”) Homer Il. 11.620-624, 628-651, 662-663 ἵππους δ᾽ Εὐρυμέδων θεράπων λύε τοῖο γέροντος ἐξ ὀχέων· τοὶ δ᾽ ἱδρῶ ἀπεψύχοντο χιτώνων στάντε ποτὶ πνοιὴν παρὰ θῖν᾽ ἁλός· αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα ἐς κλισίην ἐλθόντες ἐπὶ κλισμοῖσι κάθιζον. τοῖσι δὲ τεῦχε κυκειῶ ἐϋπλόκαμος Ἑκαμήδη, ... ἥ σφωϊν πρῶτον μὲν ἐπιπροΐηλε τράπεζαν καλὴν κυανόπεζαν ἐΰξοον, αὐτὰρ ἐπ᾽ αὐτῆς χάλκειον κάνεον, ἐπὶ δὲ κρόμυον ποτῷ ὄψον,

620

624

630

413 ἠδὲ μέλι χλωρόν, παρὰ δ’ ἀλφίτου ἱεροῦ ἀκτήν, πὰρ δὲ δέπας περικαλλές, ὃ οἴκοθεν ἦγ᾽ ὁ γεραιός, χρυσείοις ἥλοισι πεπαρμένον· οὔατα δ᾽ αὐτοῦ τέσσαρ᾽ ἔσαν, δοιαὶ δὲ πελειάδες ἀμφὶς ἕκαστον χρύσειαι νεμέθοντο, δύω δ᾽ ὑπὸ πυθμένες ἦσαν. ἄλλος μὲν μογέων ἀποκινήσασκε τραπέζης πλεῖον ἐόν, Νέστωρ δ᾽ ὁ γέρων ἀμογητὶ ἄειρεν. [ἐν τῷ ῥά σφι κύκησε γυνὴ ἐϊκυῖα θεῇσιν οἴνῳ Πραμνείῳ, ἐπὶ δ’ αἴγειον κνῆ τυρὸν κνήστι χαλκείῃ, ἐπὶ δ’ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνε, πινέμεναι δ’ ἐκέλευσεν,] ἐπεί ῥ’ ὥπλισσε κυκειῶ. τὼ δ᾽ ἐπεὶ οὖν πίνοντ᾽ ἀφέτην πολυκαγκέα δίψαν μύθοισιν τέρποντο πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἐνέποντες, Πάτροκλος δὲ θύρῃσιν ἐφίστατο ἰσόθεος φώς. τὸν δὲ ἰδὼν ὁ γεραιὸς ἀπὸ θρόνου ὦρτο φαεινοῦ, ἐς δ᾽ ἄγε χειρὸς ἑλών, κατὰ δ᾽ ἑδριάασθαι ἄνωγε. Πάτροκλος δ᾽ ἑτέρωθεν ἀναίνετο εἶπέ τε μῦθον· οὐχ ἕδος ἐστὶ γεραιὲ διοτρεφές, οὐδέ με πείσεις. αἰδοῖος νεμεσητὸς ὅ με προέηκε πυθέσθαι ὅν τινα τοῦτον ἄγεις βεβλημένον· ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸς γιγνώσκω, ὁρόω δὲ Μαχάονα ποιμένα λαῶν. ... βέβληται δὲ καὶ Εὐρύπυλος κατὰ μηρὸν ὀϊστῷ· τοῦτον δ’ ἄλλον ἐγὼ νέον ἤγαγον ἐκ πολέμοιο

635

640

645

650 662

and Eurymedon the squire loosed old Nestor’s horses from the car, and the two of them [?]257 dried the sweat from their tunics standing in the breeze by the shore of the sea; and thereafter 257

It is completely unclear to whom Homer is referring here. It could be any combination of Nestor, Eurymedon, Machaon, or Eurypylus. Indeed the problem of unclear referents runs throughout the passage. Our first instinct is to assume that “them” means the two men most recently referred to: Nestor and Eurymedon. But given that some sort of medicinal drink is being administered (on the medicinal uses of Pramnian wine see Interpretation below), this seems inappropriate as Nestor is not wounded. Perhaps we ought to assume, then, that only the wounded drink. Yet it is unclear at first if any wounded men are even in Nestor’s tent. We know that Nestor has taken Machaon from the battlefield (597-8), but it is not clear that he is in the tent of Nestor until much later (once the medicine, etc. has been doled out) at 651, when Patroclus identifies him. Immediately after this identification, however, lines 662-3 intervene (“and struck is Eurypylus too with an arrow in the thigh, and this man beside have I but now borne forth from the war”) which leave open the possibility that Eurypylus may be in Nestor’s tent as well. Are we to assume, then, that the medicine is only intended for the wounded men Machaon and Eurypylus? This seems logical enough, yet Eurypylus is placed elsewhere definitively – on the battlefield receiving medical attention from Patroclus – in lines 828 ff. (see the Homeric text of Allusion 31 below). In the end, there seems to be no satisfactory way of

414 they went into the hut and sat down on chairs. And for them [?] fair-tressed Hecamede mixed a posset [κυκειῶ, 624] ... She first drew before the two [?] a table, fair, with feet of cyanus, and well-polished, and set thereon a basket of bronze, and therewith an onion, a relish for their drink, and pale honey, and ground meal of sacred barley; and beside them a beauteous cup, that the old man had brought from home, studded with bosses of gold; four were the handles thereof, and about each two doves were feeding, while below were two supports. Another man could scarce have availed to lift that cup from the table, when it was full, but old Nestor would raise it right easily. [Therein the woman, like to the goddesses, mixed into the Pramnian wine cheese grated with a brazen grater, and sprinkled thereover white barley meal; and she bid them [?] drink,] when she had made ready the posset [κυκειῶ]. Then when the two [?] had drunk, and sent from them parching thirst, they [?] took delight in tales, speaking each to the other; and then Patroclus stood at the doors, a godlike man. At sight of him the old man sprang from his bright chair, and took him by the hand and led him in, and bid him be seated. But Patroclus from over against him refused, and spoke, saying: “I may not sit, old sir, fostered of Zeus, nor will you persuade me. Revered and to be dreaded is he who sent me forth to learn who it is that you bring home wounded. But even I myself know, and behold Machaon, shepherd of the host... [Nestor to Patroclus:] “Struck is the son of Tydeus, mighty Diomedes, wounded with spearthrust is Odysseus, famed for his spear, and Agamemnon, and struck is Eurypylus too with an arrow in the thigh, and this man beside [Machaon or Eurypylus?] have I but now borne forth from the war struck with an arrow from the string.” Allusion 31 (“Patroclus’ treatment of Eurypylus”) Homer Il. 11.828-836, 842-848 ἀλλ’ ἐμὲ μὲν σὺ σάωσον ἄγων ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν, μηροῦ δ’ ἔκταμ’ ὀϊστόν, ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ δ’ αἷμα κελαινὸν νίζ’ ὕδατι λιαρῷ, ἐπὶ δ’ ἤπια φάρμακα πάσσε 830 ἐσθλά, τά σε προτί φασιν Ἀχιλλῆος δεδιδάχθαι, ὃν Χείρων ἐδίδαξε δικαιότατος Κενταύρων. ἰητροὶ μὲν γὰρ Ποδαλείριος ἠδὲ Μαχάων τὸν μὲν ἐνὶ κλισίῃσιν ὀί̈ομαι ἕλκος ἔχοντα χρηί̈ζοντα καὶ αὐτὸν ἀμύμονος ἰητῆρος 835 κεῖσθαι· ὃ δ’ ἐν πεδίῳ Τρώων μένει ὀξὺν Ἄρηα. ... ἦ, [καὶ ὑπὸ στέρνοιο λαβὼν ἄγε ποιμένα λαῶν ἐς κλισίην· θεράπων δὲ ἰδὼν ὑπέχευε βοείας. ἔνθά μιν ἐκτανύσας ἐκ μηροῦ τάμνε μαχαίρῃ ὀξὺ βέλος περιπευκές, ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ δ’ αἷμα κελαινὸν 845 νίζ’ ὕδατι λιαρῷ, ἐπὶ δὲ ῥίζαν βάλε πικρὴν χερσὶ διατρίψας ὀδυνήφατον, ἥ οἱ ἁπάσας ἔσχ’ ὀδύνας· τὸ μὲν ἕλκος ἐτέρσετο, παύσατο δ’ αἷμα.] resolving the ambiguities Homer’s text presents in this passage. Indeed, aspects of the text of this passage have been questioned since antiquity (see Interpretation below).

415 [Eurypylus to Patroclus:] “But do help me, and lead me to my black ship, and cut the arrow from my thigh, and wash the black blood from it with warm water, and sprinkle thereon kindly simples of healing power (ἤπια φάρμακα, 830), whereof men say that you have learned from Achilles, whom Cheiron taught, the most righteous [δικαιότατος, 832] of the Centaurs.258 For the leeches, Podaleirius and Machaon, the one, I suppose, lay wounded amid the huts, having need himself of a goodly leech, and the other in the plain abides the sharp battle of the Trojans...” He spoke and [clasped the shepherd of the host beneath the breast, and led him to his hut, and his squire when he saw them strewed upon the ground hides of oxen. There Patroclus made him lie at length, and with a knife cut from his thigh the sharp-piercing arrow, and from the wound washed the black blood with warm water, and upon it cast a bitter root, when he had rubbed it between his hands, a root that slays pain, which stayed all his pangs; and the wound waxed dry, and the blood ceased.] Cross-Reference In the Ion Socrates alludes to Hecamede’s treatment of Machaon in Book 11 of the Iliad in order to demonstrate that the specialized arts about which Homer speaks, such as chariot-driving, medicine, fishing, and so on, are better judged and understood by the experts themselves rather than the poet who sings about them. To demonstrate this point, Socrates cites Homer’s description of the medicinal art, in so doing conflating Il. 11.639-640 with 630, borrowing the latter half of 630 to complete line 640. While Labarbe argues that the conflation is a mistake,259 I shall argue below that the mistake here is intentional, a means whereby in ironic fashion Plato is able to demonstrate Socrates’ mastery of the art of Homeric quotation. But first, I shall reproduce below the relevant passages. Plato Ion 538b7-c6 τί δὲ δὴ ὅταν Ὅμηρος λέγῃ ὡς τετρωμένῳ τῷ Μαχάονι Ἑκαμήδη ἡ Νέστορος παλλακὴ κυκεῶνα πίνειν δίδωσι; καὶ λέγει πως οὕτως— [οἴνῳ πραμνείῳ, φησίν, ἐπὶ δ᾽ αἴγειον κνῆ τυρὸν 258

c

On Achilles’ tutelage under Cheiron, see Allusion 9. This text is treated below under Quotation 37, Cross-Reference. 259 Labarbe 1949, 102-8.

416 κνήστι χαλκείῃ· παρὰ δὲ κρόμυον ποτῷ ὄψον·] ταῦτα εἴτε ὀρθῶς λέγει Ὅμηρος εἴτε μή, πότερον ἰατρικῆς ἐστι διαγνῶναι καλῶς ἢ ῥαψῳδικῆς; Ἰατρικῆς.

5

[Socrates:] “Then what about the time Homer tells how Hecamede, Nestor’s woman, gave barley-medicine to Machaon to drink? He says something like this – [‘Over the Pramnian wine, she grated cheese of goat’s milk with a brazen grater: and therewith an onion, a relish for the drink...’] Is Homer right or not: would a fine diagnosis here come from a doctor’s profession or a rhapsode’s?” Homer Il. 11.639-40 [οἴνῳ Πραμνείῳ, ἐπὶ δ’ αἴγειον κνῆ τυρὸν κνήστι χαλκείῃ,] ἐπὶ δ’ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνε,

640

[Over the Pramnian wine, [Hecamede] grated cheese of goat’s milk with a brazen grater,] and sprinkled thereover white barley meal ... Homer Il. 11.630 χάλκειον κάνεον, [ἐπὶ δὲ κρόμυον ποτῷ ὄψον,]

630

a basket of bronze, [and therewith an onion, a relish for the drink,] It is not surprising that Labarbe argues that Socrates makes a mistake in his citation of Homer here. The half-lines 640 and 630 that Socrates conflates are such that they could be easily confused: they both concern Hecamede’s posset; they are metrically equivalent; they are both immediately preceded by a form of the adjective χάλκειος; and finally, in Homer, both half-lines begin with the preposition ἐπὶ. Socrates, however, in his adaptation of 630, uses the preposition παρὰ instead of Homer’s ἐπὶ. The first clue that this conflation is “by design” – an interpretation Howes first suggests but otherwise does not elaborate on –260 is that Plato shows that he is in fact aware of the latter 260

Howes 1895, 198.

417 half of 640 when he cites it at Rep. 3.405e2 with the phrase ἄλφιτα πολλὰ ἐπιπασθέντα (cf. Il. 11.640: κνήστι χαλκείῃ, ἐπὶ δ’ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ πάλυνε). The conflation otherwise shows signs of “design” because of the way it is introduced in Plato’s text. Socrates introduces the quotation by saying that “[Homer] says something like this ...” (λέγει πως οὕτως, c1). Such a disavowal of an interest in verbatim accuracy allows Socrates to play with Homer somewhat, to display his own virtuosity in not only citing the poet but also recombining and altering his words as he sees fit. Indeed, it even allows him “to test,” in a manner of speaking, the knowledge of the self-avowed Homeric expert Ion. While Ion claims that he has mastered his Homer, he does not even notice Socrates’ conflation. In this way, Plato is able to demonstrate yet further, in extremely subtle fashion, the extent to which Socrates bests Ion in his own so-called field of expertise. Thus, in this instance not only does the “expert” Ion fail to notice that Socrates has misquoted Homer, but Socrates, in misquoting Homer so expertly, is further able to display his own skills in citing the poet, as a means to further his own philosophical argument. Interpretation While I have indicated above in my translation of the Platonic passage that it is possible that Socrates makes no error in his Homeric citation, I will entertain the possibility here that he does, in fact, confuse the wounding and treatment of Eurypylus for Machaon. This position will allow me to interpret this most ambiguous of passages completely and address what I view as the faulty interpretation of the majority of commentators. The faulty interpretation in question is that

418 Socrates’ “mistake” arises from Plato’s own faulty memory.261 This interpretation is immediately suspect, however, as Plato’s Socrates does “remember” Machaon’s wounding accurately in the Ion. I would argue further that to assume mental deficiency on the part of Plato is generally a sign that one has missed a subtle instance of Socratic irony. Feigning misunderstanding or ignorance is a basic trait of Plato’s Socrates. What I shall argue Socrates is doing here, then, is offering up a set of allusions from Homer that are confused in direct proportion to the comic confusion and ambiguities of the Homeric episodes which they themselves are referencing. In Homer, as we shall see, not only does the author (and for that matter the reader) not know who is where and who is treating whom, but even the characters themselves are confused. This confusion begins in Homer when Nestor, carrying the wounded Machaon off the battlefield, passes Achilles. Achilles, like Socrates, is not sure who the wounded man is, so he asks Patroclus to confirm the identity of Machaon (cf. Il. 11.611-4). The episode becomes even more confusing when we consider other aspects of the story. In the first place, Machaon and Eurypylus are wounded in parallel fashion: both men are wounded in succession by Paris, on the right sides of their body: Machaon in his right shoulder (cf. Il. 11.505-7); Eurypylus in the right thigh (cf. Il. 11.581-4). While it is clear to the reader that Machaon is brought into the tent of Nestor to be treated immediately by Hecamede (cf. Il. 11.618 ff.), Eurypylus’ fate is altogether ambiguous. He is either treated with Machaon in Nestor’s tent or remains on the battlefield to be tended to later by Patroclus. The reason for this confusion arises primarily from line: Il. 11.662. 261

Labarbe 1949, 372-5. Labarbe is hardly kind in his treatment of Plato here, ending his interpretation of the passage with a joke in French, noting how it is not surprising that a French soup, made up of a “jumble” of ingredients, should be used to translate Homer’s word for barleymeal (375). See also Howes (1895, 196), who argues that Plato’s error arises “through carelessness.”

419 In this line Nestor himself says that Eurypylus, like Machaon, has been wounded and “this young man” has been led into his tent. The phrase Homer uses to describe “the young man” in line 663 (τοῦτον δ’ ἄλλον ... νέον), however, is ambiguous; it could refer either to Machaon or to Eurypylus. That Machaon and Eurypylus are both in Nestor’s tent does help to make some sense out of the oddness of Homer’s use of τοῖσι in line 624: “And for them [τοῖσι] fair-tressed Hecamede mixed a potion.” If Machaon and Nestor are the only men in the tent, τοῖσι seems completely inappropriate. Why would Nestor need to take medicine if he has not been wounded? If this were not confusing enough, when we do finally meet Eurypylus again, nearly 200 lines later, we find him still lying wounded on the battlefield. It is at this point that Eurypylus asks Patroclus to tend to his wounds (828 ff.). As this reference to Eurypylus is unambiguous, line 662, where Nestor refers (perhaps) to carrying Eurypylus from the battlefield, has been omitted by some editors262 and indeed is even left out of some manuscripts. Yet the fact that line 662 is illogical, that it causes problems, is not evidence that it did not exist in Plato’s Homer. Indeed, it is entirely likely that Plato here is alluding rather playfully to a “Homeric Problem” that existed in his own day: the famously confusing episode of the wounding of Machaon and Eurypylus. We have already seen Plato behave similarly with another ancient “Homeric Problem,” that of the “Myth of the Urns”.263 Thus, what Socrates does here – if he is “confused” at all – is confuse the identity of Eurypylus and Machaon in order subtly to mock how unclear Homer’s narration of this episode is. 262

See, e.g., Leaf (1900-2, ad. 662): “This line is om. by a majority of MSS., and is evidently interpolated from 16.27. Nestor knows nothing of the wounding of Eurypylus, which happened after he had left the field.” The MSS. that omit the line include f h i o A B C N4. 263 See Quotation 9 & Paraphrase 3. On the antiquity of certain “Homeric Problems,” see esp. Bérard (1924-5, 309) and Fera (1986, 85-9).

420 The other criticism Labarbe has for Plato in these citations is that the philosopher incorrectly states that the sons of Asclepius, Machaon and Podaleirius, were present to give their approval to the medical treatments offered to Eurypylus. Labarbe cites verses 833-836, where Eurypylus himself notes the absence of these men, and verses 842-848 where it is clear that Patroclus is accompanied only by a squire. Labarbe’s criticism fails here, however, in that it is far too literal a reading of Plato. Socrates never states that Machaon and Podaleirius were actually present for these treatments, only that they did not disapprove of them at any point. Surely someone does not need to be present for an event in order to criticize it at some other time. The important thing to consider in this series of citations is that Socrates is above all else playfully making a serious point. He states more clearly his views on modern medicine at Rep. 4.426a1-4, a6-b1, where he criticizes those who consult doctors to cure physical conditions that are only the result of their own (moral) failings, their sloth, overeating, and so on: And such people carry on in an altogether amusing fashion, don’t they. Their medical treatment achieves nothing, except that their illness becomes worse and more complicated, and they’re always hoping that someone will recommend some new medicine to cure them ... And isn’t it also amusing that they consider their worst enemy to be the person who tells them the truth, namely, that until they give up drunkenness, overeating, lechery, and idleness, no medicine, cautery, or surgery, no charms, amulets, or anything else of that kind will do them any good? With the reference to flatulence aside, to cite Homer as an authority in medical matters is somewhat ridiculous. We already know from the Ion that Homer is decidedly not an authority about any of the fields of expertise about which he speaks. Plato’s Socrates in essence repeats this same argument in a different form at Rep. 10.598d ff. and 601a ff. Furthermore, surely it is

421 somewhat absurd to treat an injured man with wine only –264 at that a medicinal compound which is eerily similar to Circe’s brew that turned Odysseus’ men to pigs (cf. Od. 10.233-8).265 The comic element of this set of allusions is further developed in that Socrates is drawing an analogy between an injury on the field of battle and excess phlegm. In the end, his broader point is not lost. Medicine ought to be used as it is in Homer: to treat illness as it arises, not chronic conditions that can be alleviated by living less luxuriously.

Proverbial Citation 2: Plato Rep. 3.408a2 (Cf. Plato Euthyphro 15c2-3; Lysis 218b5; 222d8; Euthydemus 289a3; Meno 84e3; 94c5; Rep. 1.350d7) : Homer Il. 15.18; 20.188; 21.396; Od. 24.115 Allusion 32: Plato Rep. 3.408a3-4 (Cf. Allusion 14) : Homer Il. 4.134-140 & Quotation 37: Plato Rep. 3.408a5 : Homer Il. 4.218-219; 11.515 (Cf. Homer Il. 11.830) Interpretive Context

264

On Pramnian wine, see Chantraine (2000, 3:933). For a survey of modern and ancient sources on Pramnian wine, see Wright (2004, esp. 207-8, 213). It is possible that Socrates’ reference to Pramnian wine here may have had some special resonances for his Athenian audience, with regard to Plato’s implicit criticism of their excessive interest in pleasure and luxury. See Athenaeus (1.30b-c), a paraphrase of Aristophanes (fr. 688): “Pramnian is a variety of wine and it is neither sweet nor thick but dry and harsh and possessed of unusual strength. Aristophanes says that the Athenians did not like it, with the remark that the Athenian demos did not like poets who were harsh and stiff, nor Pramnian wines that force the eyebrows and guts to contract. What they liked was fragrant and ripe [wine] dripping with nectar.” See also Phrynichus (fr. 68), who says of the poetry of Sophocles that it is not sweet, but rather “Pramnian” in nature. On the use of Pramnian wine in medical compounds, see Hippocrates (De mulierum affectibus 1-2). 265 It is fitting that the luxurious city, the city of pigs, is that city where men are most in need of medical attention because of their addiction to their animal appetites.

422 Following the set of allusions discussed above (Allusions 28-31) Socrates continues to develop his position that medicine ought only to be limited to treating diseases, sicknesses, and injuries as they occur. He defends his position by citing the authority of Asclepius himself, showing that Socrates is not only interested in misappropriating poetic authorities to bolster his philosophic positions, but other authorities as well. Socrates claims that Asclepius and his successors266 failed to treat chronic and mortal illnesses not because they were ignorant or inexperienced,267 but because they had an interest in civic utility and a concern for individual virtue: “[Asclepius] knew that everyone in a well-regulated city has his own work to do and that no one has the leisure to be ill and under treatment all his life.” (Rep. 3.406c3-6). Socrates uses the example at Rep. 3.406d2-6 of an ill carpenter to illustrate this principle in terms that are more concrete: if anyone prescribed a lengthy regimen to him, telling him that he should rest with his head bandaged and so on, he’d soon reply that he has no leisure to be ill and that life is of no use to him if he has to neglect his work and always be concerned with his illness. Thus, the carpenter would either retain his health without excessive medical intervention or die “and escape his troubles.” (πραγμάτων ἀπηλλάγη, e3-4). Socrates argues further that the excessive care needed for a sick body can interfere with the attainment and practice of virtue in general. Invoking Asclepius once again, Socrates concludes at Rep. 3.407c8-d1, e1-3: Therefore, won’t we say that Asclepius knew this, and that he taught medicine for those whose bodies are healthy in their natures and habits but have some specific disease? ... He didn’t think that he should treat someone who couldn’t live a normal life, since such a person would be of no profit either to himself or to the city. 266

This particular phrase in Greek (τοῖς ἐκγόνοις), referring to the sons of Asclepius, is noted above as a referent for Allusion 28. 267 Here at Rep. 3.406a ff., Socrates cites the negative exemplar of Herodicus who, according to Socrates, introduced the excesses of modern medicine he wishes to argue against. See other references to Herodicus in Plato at Protagoras 316e and Phaedrus 227d.

423

That Socrates’ convenient misappropriation of Asclepius’ authority is somewhat humorous is not lost on Glaucon, who exclaims, “The Asclepius you’re talking about was quite a statesman [πολιτικόν, e4].”268 This remark sets up Socrates’ next set of citations as he argues that the way Asclepius’ sons treated Menelaus’ and Eurypylus’ wounds (cf. Allusion 31), without prescribing a lengthy regimen thereafter, is proof that they observed the limits Asclepius – or rather Socrates – recommends for medicine. In Homer, Menelaus is struck with an arrow by Pandarus (Allusion 32), an act that serves to break the momentary truce between the Greek and Trojan armies.269 Thereafter, Agamemnon has Talthybius summon Machaon to treat Menelaus’ wound, which he does by sucking blood from the wound and spreading “soothing simples” (ἤπια φάρμακα) on it (cf. Quotation 37). The aforementioned “soothing simples” are noted elsewhere in Homer, at Il. 11.515 and 830. It is altogether possible that Plato, in citing this episode, conflates the text of Il. 4.218-219 with Il. 11.515 in order both to refer generally to the way in which medicine is practiced in Homer and in the process to reflect the flexibility of this particular formula with his own use of it.270 The issue of conflation and the formula generally will be treated fully below under Textual Differences. The quotation itself is introduced – as Adam points out –271 by the Homeric phrase “Do you not remember” (ἢ οὐ μέμνησαι, Il. 15.18, 20.188, 21.396; Od. 24.115),272 that I designate

268

See Shorey [1969] 1982, ad loc. on the humor of this comment. See Allusion 14, where Socrates recommends that the gods’ role in this treachery be censored. 270 My argument differs from Labarbe (1949, 197-202), who argues instead that this conflation is the result of Plato’s confusion and failing memory. 271 Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. 269

424 above – for lack of a better category – as a Proverbial Citation. In the Iliad, the phrase is always used in the context of a threat or taunt: at Il. 15.18 Zeus to Hera; at Il. 20.188 Achilles to Aeneas; and finally at Il. 21.396 Ares to Athena. Od. 24.115 is an exception. Here the spirit of Agamemnon accosts the spirit of the slain suitor Amphimedon in the Underworld, reminding him how they first met: “do you not remember...” Given the liberties Plato’s Socrates takes with Homer in these citations – his seeming inability to remember his Homer exactly – one cannot help but wonder if the use of this famous Homeric tagline is ironic. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.407d8-408b6 ἀλλὰ τὸν μὴ δυνάμενον ἐν τῇ καθεστηκυίᾳ περιόδῳ ζῆν μὴ οἴεσθαι δεῖν θεραπεύειν, ὡς οὔτε αὑτῷ οὔτε πόλει λυσιτελῆ; Πολιτικόν, ἔφη, λέγεις Ἀσκληπιόν. Δῆλον, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ· καὶ [οἱ παῖδες αὐτοῦ,] ὅτι τοιοῦτος ἦν, οὐχ ὁρᾷς ὡς καὶ ἐν Τροίᾳ ἀγαθοὶ πρὸς τὸν πόλεμον ἐφάνησαν, καὶ τῇ ἰατρικῇ, ὡς ἐγὼ λέγω, ἐχρῶντο; [ἢ οὐ μέμνησαι] ὅτι καὶ [τῷ Μενέλεῳ ἐκ τοῦ τραύματος οὗ ὁ Πάνδαρος ἔβαλεν--] [αἷμ’ ἐκμυζήσαντες ἐπ’ ἤπια φάρμακ’ ἔπασσον,] ὅτι δ’ ἐχρῆν μετὰ τοῦτο ἢ πιεῖν ἢ φαγεῖν οὐδὲν μᾶλλον ἢ [τῷ Εὐρυπύλῳ] προσέταττον, ὡς ἱκανῶν ὄντων τῶν φαρμάκων ἰάσασθαι ἄνδρας πρὸ τῶν τραυμάτων ὑγιεινούς τε καὶ κοσμίους ἐν διαίτῃ, [κἂν εἰ τύχοιεν ἐν τῷ παραχρῆμα κυκεῶνα πιόντες,] νοσώδη δὲ φύσει τε καὶ ἀκόλαστον οὔτε αὐτοῖς οὔτε τοῖς ἄλλοις ᾤοντο λυσιτελεῖν ζῆν, οὐδ’ ἐπὶ τούτοις τὴν τέχνην δεῖν εἶναι, οὐδὲ θεραπευτέον αὐτούς, οὐδ᾽ εἰ Μίδου πλουσιώτεροι εἶεν. Πάνυ κομψούς, ἔφη, λέγεις [Ἀσκληπιοῦ παῖδας.]

e [Allusion 28] 408 [Proverb 2] [Allusion 32] 5

[Q. 37]

[Allusion 31] b [Allusion 30] 5 [Allusion 28]

[Socrates:] “He [Asclepius] didn’t think that he should treat someone who couldn’t live a normal life, since such a person would be of no profit either to himself or to the city.” 272

This phrase, while it is quite ordinary, is uniquely Homeric, never appearing in all of Greek oratory, drama, or poetry. Plato is the one regular imitator of it as can be seen above in the title for this set of citations. For more on Homer’s use of ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ ὅτε, see Shipp (1972, 142).

425 [Glaucon:] “The Asclepius you’re talking about was quite the statesman [Πολιτικόν, e3].” “Clearly. And don’t you see that because he was a statesman [(28) his sons] turned out to be good men at Troy, practicing medicine as I say they did? [(2) Don’t you remember] that they [(36) “sucked out the blood, and spread thereon soothing simples”] [(32) to the wound Pandarus inflicted on Menelaus,] but without prescribing what he should eat or drink after that, any more than they did [(31) for Eurypylus?] They considered their drugs sufficient to cure men who were healthy and living an orderly life before being wounded, [(30) even if they happened to drink wine mixed with barley and cheese right after receiving their wounds.] But they didn’t consider the lives of those who were by nature sick and licentious to be profitable either to themselves or to anyone else. Medicine isn’t intended for such people and they shouldn’t be treated, not even if they’re richer than Midas.” “[(28) The sons of Asclepius] you’re talking about were indeed very sophisticated.” Proverbial Citation 2 Homer Il. 15.14-20 ἦ μάλα δὴ κακότεχνος ἀμήχανε σὸς δόλος Ἥρη Ἕκτορα δῖον ἔπαυσε μάχης, ἐφόβησε δὲ λαούς. οὐ μὰν οἶδ᾽ εἰ αὖτε κακορραφίης ἀλεγεινῆς πρώτη ἐπαύρηαι καί σε πληγῇσιν ἱμάσσω. [ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ] ὅτε τ᾽ ἐκρέμω ὑψόθεν, ἐκ δὲ ποδοῖιν ἄκμονας ἧκα δύω, περὶ χερσὶ δὲ δεσμὸν ἴηλα χρύσεον ἄρρηκτον;

15 [= Il. 20.188, 21.396; Od. 24.115] 20

[Zeus:] “Hera, you are hard to deal with, it is the craft of your evil wiles that has stayed goodly Hector from the fight, and has driven the host in rout. Verily I know not but you shall yet be the first to reap the fruits of your wretched ill-contriving, and I shall scourge you with stripes. [Do you not remember] when you were hung from on high, and from your feet I suspended two anvils, and about your wrists cast a band of gold that might not be broken?” Homer Il. 4.134, 139-140, 217-219 [ἐν δ’ ἔπεσε ζωστῆρι ἀρηρότι πικρὸς ὀϊστός· διὰ μὲν ἂρ ζωστῆρος ἐλήλατο δαιδαλέοιο, καὶ διὰ θώρηκος πολυδαιδάλου ἠρήρειστο μίτρης θ᾽, ἣν ἐφόρει ἔρυμα χροὸς ἕρκος ἀκόντων, ἥ οἱ πλεῖστον ἔρυτο· διὰ πρὸ δὲ εἴσατο καὶ τῆς. ἀκρότατον δ’ ἄρ’ ὀϊστὸς ἐπέγραψε χρόα φωτός· αὐτίκα δ’ ἔρρεεν αἷμα κελαινεφὲς ἐξ ὠτειλῆς.] … αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ ἴδεν ἕλκος ὅθ’ ἔμπεσε πικρὸς ὀϊστός, [αἷμ’ ἐκμυζήσας ἐπ’ ἄρ’ ἤπια φάρμακα εἰδὼς

[Allusion 32] 135

140 217 [Quotation 37]

426 πάσσε,] τά οἵ ποτε πατρὶ φίλα φρονέων πόρε Χείρων. [(32) On the clasped belt lighted the bitter arrow, and through the belt richly decorated was it driven, and clean through the curiously wrought corselet did it force its way, and through the taslet which he wore, a screen for his flesh and a barrier against darts, wherein was his chieftest defense; yet even through this did it speed. So the arrow grazed the outermost flesh of the warrior [Menelaus], and forthwith the dark blood flowed from the wound.] … But when he [Machaon] saw the wound where the bitter arrow had lighted, [(36) he sucked out the blood, and with sure knowledge spread thereon soothing simples,] which of old Cheiron had given to his father with kindly thought. Homer Il. 11.510-515 αὐτίκα δ᾽ Ἰδομενεὺς προσεφώνεε Νέστορα δῖον· ὦ Νέστορ Νηληϊάδη μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν ἄγρει σῶν ὀχέων ἐπιβήσεο, πὰρ δὲ Μαχάων βαινέτω, ἐς νῆας δὲ τάχιστ᾽ ἔχε μώνυχας ἵππους· ἰητρὸς γὰρ ἀνὴρ πολλῶν ἀντάξιος ἄλλων ἰούς τ᾽ ἐκτάμνειν [ἐπί τ᾽ ἤπια φάρμακα πάσσειν.]

510

[Quotation 37] 515

And forthwith Idomeneus spoke to goodly Nestor: “Nestor, son of Neleus, great glory of the Achaeans, come, mount your chariot, and let Machaon mount beside you, and swiftly drive to the ships your single-hooved horses. For a leech is of the worth of many other men for the cutting out of arrows and [the spreading of soothing simples.]” Cross-Reference Homer Il. 11.828-832 ἀλλ’ ἐμὲ μὲν σὺ σάωσον ἄγων ἐπὶ νῆα μέλαιναν, μηροῦ δ’ ἔκταμ’ ὀϊστόν, ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ δ’ αἷμα κελαινὸν [Quotation 37] νίζ’ ὕδατι λιαρῷ, [ἐπὶ δ’ ἤπια φάρμακα πάσσε] 830 ἐσθλά, τά σε προτί φασιν Ἀχιλλῆος δεδιδάχθαι, ὃν Χείρων ἐδίδαξε δικαιότατος Κενταύρων. [Eurypylus to Patroclus:] “But do help me, and lead me to my black ship, and cut the arrow from my thigh, and wash the black blood from it with warm water, [and spread thereon soothing simples,] whereof men say that you have learned from Achilles, whom Cheiron taught, the most righteous of the Centaurs. Texts

427 Proverbial Citation 2 Plato Rep. 3.408a2 [ἢ οὐ μέμνησαι] Homer Il. 4.218 (= Il. 20.188, 21.396; Od. 24.115) [ἦ οὐ μέμνῃ] Textual Differences Proverbial Citation 2 1) ἢ (a2) : ἦ (218) [Modern Editorial Error] As Plato’s phrasing is reminiscent of Homer, Plato’s text ought to employ Homer’s interrogative adverb rather than an interrogative conjunction. 2) μέμνησαι (a2) : μέμνῃ (218) [Atticism] Here Plato and Homer’s verbs are identical in form. Homer’s text, however, features an unusual, fully contracted second person singular form in the perfect tense (cf., e.g. μέμνηαι, Il. 21.442). Texts Quotation 37 Plato Rep. 3.408a5 [αἷμ’ ἐκμυζήσαντες ἐπί τ’ ἤπια φάρμακ’ ἔπασσον,]

5

a5 ἐκμυζήσαντες] ἐκμυζήσαντες F : ἐκμυζήσαντ’ A D M : ἐκμυζήσάν τ’ Adam ἐπί τ’] ἐπί τ’ A F D M : ἐπ’ ci. Bywater Homer Il. 4.218-219 [αἷμ’ ἐκμυζήσας ἐπ’ ἄρ’ ἤπια φάρμακα εἰδὼς πάσσε,] Homer Il. 11.515

428 ἰούς τ᾽ ἐκτάμνειν [ἐπί τ᾽ ἤπια φάρμακα πάσσειν.]

515

Textual Differences 1) ἐκμυζήσαντες (a5) : ἐκμυζήσας (497) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Plato changes Homer’s singular form, ἐκμυζήσας, to the plural, ἐκμυζήσαντες, in order to accommodate his plural subject, “the sons [of Asclepius]” (οἱ παῖδες αὐτοῦ, e4). Labarbe misinterprets the effect of this change, arguing that with this plural verb form Plato incorrectly puts both Machaon and Podaleirius at the scene of Menelaus’ injury; in Homer, we have Machaon alone.273 Here Plato, however, is just generalizing. For this reason, Adam is closer to the mark by calling such an adaptation on the part of Plato “ingenious.”274 It is not that he is confused about the details of the Homeric passage, but that the details are irrelevant to his broader point, namely that doctors in Homer in general treat injuries as they occurred rather than chronic conditions. It just so happens that lines 218 and 219 of Iliad 4 were particularly wellsuited to his purposes, singular verb or not. The reading ἐκμυζήσαντες of F as adopted in Slings’ text is not the best reading.275 Far better is ἐκμυζήσαντ’,276 the reading of MSS. A, D, and M. F’s ἐκμυζήσαντες is yet further evidence of F being corrected to follow Homer’s text as closely as possible: it “corrects” A, D, and M by mirroring Homer’s active form and by retaining a participial form.277 The fact of the

273

Labarbe 1949, 198. Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. 275 This reading is also in the text of Burnet ([1905] 1958). 276 As both Schneider (1830-3, ad loc.) and Adam ([1902] 2009, ad loc.) have pointed out, the form is not a dual participial form, a reading Jowett & Campbell (1894, ad loc.) have endorsed. 277 See Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.), who half-heartedly proposes ἐκμύζησάν τ̓ in order to retain Homer’s active voice. See Labarbe (1949, 199), however, who points out the problematic nature of such a use of τ’. 274

429 matter, however, is that a middle is hardly out-of-place given the type of action described.278 Furthermore, Plato’s sentence requires a finite verb form. We also must not overlook the fact that A, D, and M as a group contain readings generally preferable to F on its own. Finally, F’s ἐκμυζήσαντες introduces metrical difficulties into the line.279 We have already demonstrated that metrical regularity in Plato’s Homeric citations is hardly of paramount importance to the author,280 but if he is able to adapt a verse and retain the meter, he does so. 2) ἐπί τ᾽ (a5) : ἐπ’ ἄρ’ (218) : ἐπί τ᾽ (515) [Minor / Legitimate Variant ] [Conflation of Texts] Plato’s use of ἐπί τ᾽ seems strongly to suggest that in this particular citation Plato is more interested in preserving a Homeric formula rather than a specific line. The formula in question is ἐπὶ + particle + ἤπια φάρμακα + some form of πάσσειν.281 As we see in Homer, the particle can vary considerably (see Original Context and Cross-Reference above for the full-text of these passages): ἄρα (Il. 4.218), τε (Il. 11.515), and δέ (Il. 11.830). The fact that Plato uses τε tells us very little. It is certainly possible that this is evidence that Plato conflates Il. 4.218 and Il. 11.515,282 but it is just as likely that Plato pays as little attention to the particle he uses as any Homeric bard using a formula that allows flexibility in terms of particle use.

278

See Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) and for a somewhat more detailed treatment Labarbe (1949, 199). 279 Bywater “corrects” this difficulty by inventing the reading ἐπ’ as a substitute for the unanimous MSS reading ἐπί τ’. 280 See, e.g., Quotations 1, 3, 9, 20, 36 and Paraphrase 4, et al. 281 A variant of this formula occurs at Il. 5.401 and Il. 5.900: τῷ δ’ ἐπὶ Παιήων ὀδυνήφατα φάρμακα πάσσων. Here the drugs are “pain-relieving” (ὀδυνήφατα) rather than “soothing” (ἤπια). For a more drastic variant, see Il. 15.393-4: ἐπὶ δ’ ἕλκεϊ λυγρῷ / φάρμακ’ ἀκέσματ’ ἔπασσε μελαινάων ὀδυνάων. 282 I would argue strongly against Labarbe (1949, 200), who sees this conflation as evidence of Plato being confused about what episode he is citing and the characters involved in those episodes.

430 3) φάρμακ’ (a5) : φάρμακα (218 / 515) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Given that Plato augments his use of the aorist form of πάσσειν immediately following φάρμακ’, it is natural that he should elide the -α of φάρμακα. This elision also allows him to preserve the meter of this citation. 4) εἰδὼς (218) [Implied Censorship] [Conflation of Texts] Plato’s omission of εἰδὼς is potentially quite significant. If we accept that Plato has conflated Il. 4.218 with Il. 11.515, the omission is a given.283 Perhaps Plato just omits a word that is an unnecessary add-on to a somewhat flexible Homeric formula. But we have here a chicken or the egg problem. Does Plato omit εἰδὼς because he has conflated texts, or does he conflate texts in order to avoid using Homer’s εἰδὼς? It is impossible to provide a definitive opinion on such a matter, but I am inclined to the latter possibility. By removing εἰδὼς from his text, Plato is subtly able to undercut the expertise of the Homeric doctor and by extension Homer himself. Plato – as I have argued above in this section on medicine – cites Homer in these passages with a good measure of irony and playfulness. By omitting εἰδὼς, he is able to indicate, however discreetly, that he means to deny the very authority he is ironically granting to Homer. While Homeric medicine is perhaps a salubrious alternative to the excesses of medicine in Plato’s own day, it provides but a primitive model for the medicine of an ideal Republic. Plato wants to use Homer’s authority to his advantage, but he does not want to do so at the cost of giving the poet too much credit and leaving open the possibility that he displays any real expertise, especially in a matter as important as medicine.

283

See Lohse (1965, 288), who supports a “conflation theory.”

431 5) ἔπασσον (a5) : πάσσε (219) : πάσσειν (515) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Here Plato retains a Homeric form. The Attic would be ἔπαττον. The fact that he augments the form is of no particular consequence, as it appears in both unaugmented and augmented forms in Homer.284 As is the case above in 1, Plato uses a plural form to accommodate his plural subject. The fact that he uses an indicative form instead of the infinitive does nothing to prove whether Plato has conflated Il. 4.218-219 and Il. 11.515 or not. He simply uses the finite form as it is in accord with the structure of his own sentence. Interpretation In the end, Plato both adapts this Homeric citation to his own sentence structure – all the while showing his mastery of the Homeric form by retaining its original meter – and uses a Homeric formula in a way that is consistent with his philosophic point and sufficiently general to convey a broad yet ironic praise of the moderate nature of Homeric medicine.

9. Piety Θεὸς οὐδ’ ἄνθρωπος Ὅμηρος (Bodleian Library, Oxford Gr. Inscr. 4) Homer was not a man, but a god

284

For an augmented form like that in Plato’s text see, e.g., ἔπασσε at Il. 15.394.

432 In the set of citations to follow (Quotations 38-39 and Allusions 33-37), Socrates turns his attention to stories that depict improper behavior towards the gods. His target in each citation is Achilles. By using Achilles as a negative exemplar, Socrates is able to continue to erode the character of Homer’s great man. By extension, Plato’s Socrates can illustrate how using Homer as an educational text can leave the youth with inferior models to imitate. Hobbs reads this section of Homer’s depiction of Achilles as follows, focusing on what Plato would view as Achilles’ unbalanced psychic state:285 The message is plain: Achilles’ thumos is in a state of complete insubordination to reason and in consequence he displays nothing but arrogance (huperephania 391c5) towards his rightful masters, whether mortal or divine. If the young Auxiliaries want a role model, they had better choose someone else. The state needs obedient soldiers, not overmighty warriors.

Quotation 38: Plato Rep. 3.391a6-7 : Homer Il. 22.15, 20 (Cf. Homer Od. 2.62)286 Interpretive Context Socrates introduces Quotation 38 by mentioning Homer directly. Socrates pretends he is reluctant to criticize Homer’s depiction of Achilles (cf. Rep. 3.391a6), typical of the mock respect Socrates pays to the poet.287 But using the language of the law court, Socrates claims that his censorship of Homer is in fact saving the reputation of Achilles from Homer’s “impious

285

Hobbs 2000, 202. Telemachus’ complaint about his inability to take immediate vengeance upon the Suitors (ἦ τ᾽ ἂν ἀμυναίμην, εἴ μοι δύναμίς γε παρείη, Od. 2.62) closely mirrors Achilles’ complaint to Apollo. 287 Rep. 3.383a7; 387b1-2. See also Greene (1920, 99, 108). 286

433 ... accusations.” (οὐδ᾽ ὅσιον ταῦτά γε κατὰ Ἀχιλλέως φάναι, Rep. 3.391a3-4)288 To follow, Socrates cites Achilles’ impious threat to Apollo from Il. 22.15-20, quoting lines 15 and 20 only. I shall argue below, however, with Labarbe, Lohse, and Murray, that such a selection is by design,289 not the result of Plato’s poor memory or an alternate textual tradition. As Murray puts it, “P[lato] omits the intervening lines because the ones he quotes are enough to illustrate Achilles’ insolent behavior towards Apollo.”290 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.391a3-7 Ὀκνῶ δέ γε, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, δι’ Ὅμηρον λέγειν ὅτι οὐδ’ ὅσιον ταῦτά γε κατὰ Ἀχιλλέως φάναι καὶ ἄλλων λεγόντων πείθεσθαι, καὶ αὖ ὡς πρὸς τὸν Ἀπόλλω εἶπεν-[ἔβλαψάς μ’ ἑκάεργε, θεῶν ὀλοώτατε πάντων· ἦ σ’ ἂν τισαίμην, εἴ μοι δύναμίς γε παρείη·]

5

[Socrates:] “It is only out of respect for Homer, indeed, that I hesitate to say that it is positively impious to accuse Achilles of such things or to believe others who say them. Or to make him address Apollo in these words: [‘You have foiled me, Farshooter, most deadly of all gods] [Verily I would avenge myself on you, had I but the power.’”] Homer Il. 22.15-20 [ἔβλαψάς μ’ ἑκάεργε, θεῶν ὀλοώτατε πάντων] ἐνθάδε νῦν τρέψας ἀπὸ τείχεος· ἦ κ’ ἔτι πολλοὶ γαῖαν ὀδὰξ εἷλον πρὶν Ἴλιον εἰσαφικέσθαι. νῦν δ’ ἐμὲ μὲν μέγα κῦδος ἀφείλεο, τοὺς δὲ σάωσας ῥηϊδίως, ἐπεὶ οὔ τι τίσιν γ’ ἔδεισας ὀπίσσω. [ἦ σ’ ἂν τισαίμην, εἴ μοι δύναμίς γε παρείη.]

15

20

[Achilles]: [“You have foiled me, Farshooter, most deadly of all gods] in that you have now turned me here from the wall; else had many a man yet bitten the ground or ever they came into Ilium. Now you have robbed me of great glory, and them have you saved full easily, seeing you 288

Homer’s “impious accusations” against Achilles include the charge that Achilles was a lover of money, the substance of Allusions 20-22. 289 Labarbe 1949, 195; Lohse 1965, 286-7; P. Murray [1996] 2007, 166. 290 P. Murray [1996] 2007, 166.

434 had no fear of vengeance in the aftertime. [Verily I would avenge myself on you, had I but the power.”] Interpretation As noted above under Interpretive Context, my opinion, shared with Labarbe,291 Lohse,292 and Gilbert Murray293 is that Plato’s omission of Il. 22.16-19 is intentional. Bolling and Murray take Plato’s omission of Il. 22.16-19 as evidence that such verses did not appear in Plato’s Homer.294 It is clear after examining Socrates’ uses of the passage, however, that he needed to use only verses 15 and 20 to make his point, verses respectively that contained an insult against Apollo on the one hand and a threat on the other. Verses 16-19, which contain information about the plot of the Iliad and Achilles’ interest in glory, are simply not germane to Plato’s purpose to highlight the impiety of Homer’s Achilles. In using this particular Homeric passage, Socrates points out the continued failure of Achilles as a positive moral paradigm as depicted by Homer. Were the youth to imitate Homer’s Achilles, they would act violently towards the gods and lose respect for authority. This is not to say that Socrates treats Homer fairly or on his own terms. In the first place, in Homer, Achilles only wishes he were able to take vengeance on Apollo. It is clear that his threat is in essence inconsequential; Achilles knows his threat is empty, that he has no way of acting on it. Further, we must consider that in Homer we are dealing with a universe in which the gods lie, cheat, steal

291

See Labarbe (1949, 195), who writes that “L’omission doit être tenue pour volontaire.” Lohse 1965, 287: Um den Achill dieser Szene zu charakterisieren, benötigt Platon nur den ersten und den letzten Vers der Schimpfrede gegen Apollon, die Verse X 15 und X 20, in denen Achill den Gott beschuldigt, ihn betrogen zu haben (X 15) und ihm dafür droht (X 20). Die ausgelassenen Verse bestimmen bei Homer die Situation genauer und konnten Platon für seinen Zweck nicht so dienlich sein. 293 G. Murray 1924, 294. 294 G. Murray 1924, 294; Bolling 1925, 192. 292

435 and meddle endlessly in the affairs of humans. In such a universe, Achilles’ complaint and threat are to be expected. The gods are unjust. A threat made against a god only becomes unacceptable once we are outside of Homer’s text, once we assume that the gods are as Socrates says they are: unchanging forces of good alone. In what follows, Socrates will continue to build his case against the inappropriate nature of Achilles’ impious behavior towards the gods.

Allusion 33: Plato Rep. 3.391b1 : Homer Il. 21.214-227 & Allusion 34: Plato Rep. 3.391b1-2 : Homer Il. 21.233-327 Interpretive Context This Allusion follows Quotation 37 above directly in Plato’s text. Here Socrates notes another episode of Achilles’ alleged impiety in the Iliad. The Homeric episode in question belongs to Book 21 where Achilles drives his Trojan adversaries into the Scamander. There he slaughters a great many of them, among them Asteropaeus, and takes twelve others captive. All the while, Achilles vehemently disrespects the dignity of Scamander and rivers in general, until the river god himself grows angry and asks Achilles to stay his slaughter. The hero himself brands his slaughter of the men in the river as a perversion of the Trojans’ own sacrifices given in honor of the river. Whereas it is the custom of the Trojans to drive bulls and horses into the river for slaughter, Achilles drives men (cf. Il. 21.128-32). In the end, Achilles is no match for the river. His insolence, however, causes strife to arise among the gods themselves, strife that Socrates earlier criticized (cf. Allusion 13).

436 The allusions in question are Achilles’ disobedience of the river by way of his continued attack upon the Trojans (Allusion 33), and Achilles’ battle with the river god Scamander (Allusion 34). Original Context Plato Rep. 3.391b1-2 καὶ [(33) ὡς πρὸς τὸν ποταμόν, θεὸν ὄντα, ἀπειθῶς εἶχεν] [(34) καὶ μάχεσθαι ἕτοιμος ἦν,]

b

[Socrates:] “Or [(33) to say that he [Achilles] disobeyed the river – a god –] [(34) and was ready to fight it...]” Homer Il. 21.128-32, 136-8, 186-7, 190-3, 211-27, 233-42, 263-9, 302-9, 314-5 φθείρεσθ᾽ εἰς ὅ κεν ἄστυ κιχείομεν Ἰλίου ἱρῆς ὑμεῖς μὲν φεύγοντες, ἐγὼ δ᾽ ὄπιθεν κεραΐζων. οὐδ᾽ ὑμῖν ποταμός περ ἐΰρροος ἀργυροδίνης 130 ἀρκέσει, ᾧ δὴ δηθὰ πολέας ἱερεύετε ταύρους, ζωοὺς δ᾽ ἐν δίνῃσι καθίετε μώνυχας ἵππους. ... ὣς ἄρ᾽ ἔφη, ποταμὸς δὲ χολώσατο κηρόθι μᾶλλον, ὅρμηνεν δ᾽ ἀνὰ θυμὸν ὅπως παύσειε πόνοιο δῖον Ἀχιλλῆα, Τρώεσσι δὲ λοιγὸν ἀλάλκοι. ... φῆσθα σὺ μὲν ποταμοῦ γένος ἔμμεναι εὐρὺ ῥέοντος, αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ γενεὴν μεγάλου Διὸς εὔχομαι εἶναι. ... τὼ κρείσσων μὲν Ζεὺς ποταμῶν ἁλιμυρηέντων, 190 κρείσσων αὖτε Διὸς γενεὴ ποταμοῖο τέτυκται. καὶ γὰρ σοὶ ποταμός γε πάρα μέγας, εἰ δύναταί τι χραισμεῖν... ... καί νύ κ᾽ ἔτι πλέονας κτάνε Παίονας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς, εἰ μὴ χωσάμενος προσέφη ποταμὸς βαθυδίνης ἀνέρι εἰσάμενος, βαθέης δ᾽ ἐκ φθέγξατο δίνης· [ὦ Ἀχιλεῦ, περὶ μὲν κρατέεις, περὶ δ’ αἴσυλα ῥέζεις [Allusion 33] ἀνδρῶν· αἰεὶ γάρ τοι ἀμύνουσιν θεοὶ αὐτοί. 215 εἴ τοι Τρῶας ἔδωκε Κρόνου παῖς πάντας ὀλέσσαι, ἐξ ἐμέθεν γ’ ἐλάσας πεδίον κάτα μέρμερα ῥέζε· πλήθει γὰρ δή μοι νεκύων ἐρατεινὰ ῥέεθρα,

437 οὐδέ τί πῃ δύναμαι προχέειν ῥόον εἰς ἅλα δῖαν στεινόμενος νεκύεσσι, σὺ δὲ κτείνεις ἀϊδήλως. ἀλλ’ ἄγε δὴ καὶ ἔασον· ἄγη μ’ ἔχει ὄρχαμε λαῶν. τὸν δ’ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη πόδας ὠκὺς Ἀχιλλεύς· ἔσται ταῦτα Σκάμανδρε διοτρεφές, ὡς σὺ κελεύεις. Τρῶας δ’ οὐ πρὶν λήξω ὑπερφιάλους ἐναρίζων, πρὶν ἔλσαι κατὰ ἄστυ καὶ Ἕκτορι πειρηθῆναι ἀντιβίην, ἤ κέν με δαμάσσεται, ἦ κεν ἐγὼ τόν. ὣς εἰπὼν Τρώεσσιν ἐπέσσυτο δαίμονι ἶσος·] … ... [καὶ Ἀχιλλεὺς μὲν δουρικλυτὸς ἔνθορε μέσσῳ κρημνοῦ ἀπαΐξας· ὃ δ᾽ ἐπέσσυτο οἴδματι θύων, πάντα δ᾽ ὄρινε ῥέεθρα κυκώμενος, ὦσε δὲ νεκροὺς πολλούς, οἵ ῥα κατ᾽ αὐτὸν ἅλις ἔσαν, οὓς κτάν᾽ Ἀχιλλεύς τοὺς ἔκβαλλε θύραζε μεμυκὼς ἠΰτε ταῦρος χέρσον δέ· ζωοὺς δὲ σάω κατὰ καλὰ ῥέεθρα, κρύπτων ἐν δίνῃσι βαθείῃσιν μεγάλῃσι. δεινὸν δ᾽ ἀμφ᾽ Ἀχιλῆα κυκώμενον ἵστατο κῦμα, ὤθει δ᾽ ἐν σάκεϊ πίπτων ῥόος· οὐδὲ πόδεσσιν εἶχε στηρίξασθαι... ... ὣς αἰεὶ Ἀχιλῆα κιχήσατο κῦμα ῥόοιο καὶ λαιψηρὸν ἐόντα· θεοὶ δέ τε φέρτεροι ἀνδρῶν. ὁσσάκι δ᾽ ὁρμήσειε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεὺς στῆναι ἐναντίβιον καὶ γνώμεναι εἴ μιν ἅπαντες ἀθάνατοι φοβέουσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι, τοσσάκι μιν μέγα κῦμα διιπετέος ποταμοῖο πλάζ᾽ ὤμους καθύπερθεν... ... ... τοῦ δ’ ὑψόσε γούνατ’ ἐπήδα πρὸς ῥόον ἀί̈σσοντος ἀν’ ἰθύν, οὐδέ μιν ἴσχεν εὐρὺ ῥέων ποταμός· μέγα γὰρ σθένος ἔμβαλ’ Ἀθήνη. οὐδὲ Σκάμανδρος ἔληγε τὸ ὃν μένος, ἀλλ’ ἔτι μᾶλλον χώετο Πηλεί̈ωνι, κόρυσσε δὲ κῦμα ῥόοιο ὑψόσ’ ἀειρόμενος, Σιμόεντι δὲ κέκλετ’ ἀύ̈σας· φίλε κασίγνητε σθένος ἀνέρος ἀμφότεροί περ σχῶμεν... ... ἵνα παύσομεν ἄγριον ἄνδρα ὃς δὴ νῦν κρατέει, μέμονεν δ’ ὅ γε ἶσα θεοῖσι.]

220

225

[Allusion 34] 235

240

265

305

315

[Achilles to the Trojans:] “So perish till we come to the city of sacred Ilion, you in flight, and I killing you from behind. Not even the fair-flowing river with his silver eddies shall rescue you,

438 albeit to him, I suppose, you have for a long time been wont to sacrifice bulls full many, and to cast single-hooved horses while yet they lived into his eddies ...” So [Achilles] spoke, and the river waxed the more wroth at heart, and pondered in mind how he should stay goodly Achilles from his labor and ward off ruin from the Trojans... ... [Achilles to Asteropaeus:] “Verily you declare that your birth is from a wide-flowing River, whereas I avow me to be of the lineage of great Zeus ... Wherefore as Zeus is mightier than rivers that murmur seaward, so mightier too is the seed of Zeus than the seed of a river. For hard beside you is a great River, if he were able to help...” ... And yet more of the Paeonians would swift Achilles have slain, had not the deep-eddying River waxed wroth and called to him in the semblance of a man, sending forth a voice from out the deep eddy: [“O Achilles, you are beyond all men in might, and beyond all in doing deeds of evil; for ever do the very gods give you aid. If the son of Cronos has granted it to you to slay all the men of Troy, at least drive them out of my stream, and work your direful work on the plain. Lo, full are my lovely streams with dead men, nor can I anywise avail to pour my waters forth into the bright sea, being choked with dead, while you ever slay men ruthlessly. Nay, come, let be; amazement holds me, leader of hosts. Then swift-footed Achilles answered him, saying: “Thus shall it be, Scamander, nurtured of Zeus, even as you bid. But the proud Trojans will I not cease to slay until I have penned them in their city, and have made trial of Hector, man-to-man, whether he shall slay me or I him.” So saying he leapt upon the Trojans like a god.] … [And so Achilles, famed for his spear, sprang from the bank and leapt into his midst; but the River rushed upon him with surging flood, and roused all his streams tumultuously, and swept along the many dead that lay thick within his bed, slain by Achilles; these lie cast forth to the land, bellowing the while like a bull, and the living he saved under his fair streams, hiding them in eddies deep and wide. In terrible wise about Achilles towered the tumultuous wave, and the stream as it beat upon his shield thrust him backward, nor might he avail to stand firm upon his feet... ... Thus did the flood of the River ever overtake Achilles for all he was fleet of foot; for the gods are mightier than men. And oft as swift-footed, goodly Achilles strove to fight against him and to learn if all the immortals that hold broad heaven were driving him in rout, so often would the great flood of the heaven-fed River beat upon his shoulders from above... ... But on high leapt his knees, as he rushed straight on against the flood, nor might the wideflowing River stay him; for Athene put in him great strength. Nor yet would Scamander abate his fury, but was even more wroth against the son of Peleus, and raising himself on high he made the surge of his flood into a crest, and he called with a shout to Simois: Dear brother, the might of this man let us stay, though it need the two of us ... that we may check this fierce man that now prevails, and is minded to vie even with the gods.] Interpretation

439 It is unclear at first in the Homeric episode if Achilles means to be disobedient to Scamander, as Socrates charges him. After Scamander requests that Achilles carry out his slaughter in the plain rather than in his waters (Il. 21.217), Achilles responds, “Thus shall it be, Scamander, nurtured of Zeus, even as you bid.” (Il. 21.223). Thereafter, however, the hero leaps into the Scamander, though his intentions are unclear. Does he leap in to drive the Trojans out or to continue his slaughter in defiance of Scamander’s request? We never find out, as Scamander immediately attacks him. Some scholars have suggested, then, that Scamander’s request is just a ruse to get Achilles into his waters in the first place.295 Others have taken Achilles’ response as ironical296 or perfunctory.297 As Nicholas Richardson puts it, “the main weight of Achilles’ reply is on his desire for more slaughter.”298 It is the Scamander, after all, who opens up the possibility that Achilles is perhaps fated to kill all of the Trojans. Achilles, then, attempts to carry out only this suggestion, killing more Trojans in the river in defiance of Scamander, before he has the rest “penned ... in their city” (Il. 21.225). At any rate, regardless of differences in modern interpretations, it seems as if Plato chooses to interpret this difficult and ambiguous Homeric passage as disobedience on Achilles’ part. Socrates alludes to Achilles’ impiety in an unusual way here. He alludes to his disobedience and warring against Scamander, an allusion that seems somewhat humorous at first glance. If anything, Achilles is surely guilty of greater impiety in the Iliad than disobeying a river (god or not)! But Plato will slowly build to Achilles’ greater acts of impieties, the

295

For this and a summary of other interpretations of this passage, see Leaf (1900-2, ad loc.). Of more recent interpreters, Callen King (1987, 109) has adopted the reading of a deceptive Scamander. 296 Monro & Allen [1902] 1978, ad loc. 297 Richardson 1993, ad loc. 298 Richardson 1993, ad loc.

440 substance of which will be treated in Allusions 35-37 and Quotation 39, treating Achilles’ mistreatment of Hector’s corpse and his human sacrifice. In the meantime, Plato alludes to episodes the broader context of which suggests an Achilles who is utterly out-of-control. In this episode, Achilles secures victims for human sacrifice and also kills the suppliant Lycaon, not to mention he serves as the prime mover in creating divine dissension. And while Socrates criticizes the episode as providing a poor model for the behavior of a great man, in this respect his criticism is not altogether fair. In Homer, Scamander provides adequate censure of Achilles’ behavior, criticizing Achilles for deigning to do battle with an immortal (cf. Il. 21.314-5). The poet reminds the audience as well that “the gods are mightier than man” (θεοὶ δέ τε φέρτεροι ἀνδρῶν) (Il. 21.264). In many ways, then, Socrates is merely repeating a criticism of Achilles that already exists in the Homeric text itself.

Allusion 35: Plato Rep. 3.391b2-3 : Homer Il. 23.142-149 & Quotation 39: Plato Rep. 3.391b3-4 : Homer Il. 23.151 Interpretive Context In these citations, Socrates continues to note episodes of Achilles’ impiety. Here he focuses on another episode, as was the case in Allusions 33-34 above, that seems nearly comic out-ofcontext. Socrates cites Achilles’ dedication of a lock of his hair to Patroclus rather than, as promised by his father, to the river Spercheius. In Homer, this episode occurs as the Myrmidons

441 are performing the rites of Patroclus’ funeral, each putting a lock of hair on Patroclus’ bier as it passes. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.391b2-4 καὶ αὖ [(35) τὰς τοῦ ἑτέρου ποταμοῦ Σπερχειοῦ ἱερὰς τρίχας] [(39) Πατρόκλῳ ἥρωϊ, ἔφη, κόμην ὀπάσαιμι φέρεσθαι,] νεκρῷ ὄντι... b4 ὄντι] ὄντι A F M : ἰόντι D [Socrates:] “... or [to say] further [(35) of his hair, consecrated to the river Spercheius,] that [(39) he said, ‘I would give unto the warrior Patroclus this lock to fare with him,’] who was dead...” Homer Il. 23.140-151 ἔνθ’ αὖτ’ ἄλλ’ ἐνόησε ποδάρκης δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς· στὰς ἀπάνευθε πυρῆς ξανθὴν ἀπεκείρατο χαίτην, [τήν ῥα Σπερχειῷ ποταμῷ τρέφε τηλεθόωσαν· ὀχθήσας δ’ ἄρα εἶπεν ἰδὼν ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον· Σπερχεί’ ἄλλως σοί γε πατὴρ ἠρήσατο Πηλεὺς κεῖσέ με νοστήσαντα φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν σοί τε κόμην κερέειν ῥέξειν θ’ ἱερὴν ἑκατόμβην, πεντήκοντα δ’ ἔνορχα παρ’ αὐτόθι μῆλ’ ἱερεύσειν ἐς πηγάς, ὅθι τοι τέμενος βωμός τε θυήεις. ὣς ἠρᾶθ’ ὃ γέρων, σὺ δέ οἱ νόον οὐκ ἐτέλεσσας.] νῦν δ’ ἐπεὶ οὐ νέομαί γε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν [Πατρόκλῳ ἥρωϊ κόμην ὀπάσαιμι φέρεσθαι.]

140 [Allusion 35]

145

150 [Quotation 39]

Then again swift-footed goodly Achilles recalled one more thing; he took his stand apart from the fire [(35) and shore off a golden lock, the rich growth whereof he had nursed for the river Spercheius, and his heart mightily moved, he spoke, with a look over the wine-dark sea: Spercheius, to no purpose did my father Peleus vow to you that when I had come home to my dear native land, I would shear my hair to you and offer a holy hecatomb, and on the selfsame spot would sacrifice fifty rams, males without blemish, into your waters, where is your sacred precinct and fragrant altar. So vowed that old man, but you did not fulfill for him his desire.] Now, therefore, seeing I go not home to my dear native land, [(39) I would give unto the warrior Patroclus this lock to fare with him.]

442 Texts Quotation 39 Plato Rep.3.391b3-4 [Πατρόκλῳ ἥρωϊ, ἔφη, κόμην ὀπάσαιμι φέρεσθαι,] Homer Il. 23.151 [Πατρόκλῳ ἥρωϊ κόμην ὀπάσαιμι φέρεσθαι.] Textual Difference 1) ἔφη (b3) [Syntactical / Grammatical Convenience] Plato, indifferent to the rhythm of the original Homeric line, inserts ἔφη into the middle of his quotation, appropriate in his own construction. Interpretation Socrates’ charge of impiety against Achilles is hardly fair here. While Achilles’ locks were promised to Spercheius, this vow was made on the condition that Achilles returned home. At this point, Achilles knows that such a hope no longer exists, and so he is free to rededicate his locks to his fallen comrade, Patroclus. As Shorey puts it, “Plato exaggerates to make his case”.299 Indeed, this set of citations is a classic example of misquotation. Plato chooses conveniently to forget the details of the actual story in order to report it in as negative light as possible. In the process, the words and deeds of Achilles, which are in fact innocent, appear to be impious; hence, Homer is guilty of setting up Achilles as an inappropriate paradigm for the youth. With such an exaggeration, there is perhaps a touch of humor as well. Hair seems hardly to be a subject worthy of a diatribe against impious behavior, especially as this particular 299

Shorey [1969] 1982, ad loc.

443 example is given as much attention as Achilles’ truly gruesome, impious deeds, namely his mistreatment of Hector’s body and performing of human sacrifice.

Allusion 36: Plato Rep. 3.391b5-6 : Homer Il. 22.396-404; 463-465; 23.21; 187; 24.14-18; 5152; 416-417 & Allusion 37: Plato Rep. 3.391b6 : Homer Il. 18.336-337; 23.22-23; 164-177; 181-182 Interpretive Context With Allusions 36-37 Socrates finishes up his criticism of the “lies” Homer has told about the character of Achilles. In this set of allusions, Socrates finally notes the truly impious acts of the hero: his defilement of Hector’s body and his performing of human sacrifice over Patroclus’ pyre. While these acts serve as a crescendo to Socrates’ citations on Achilles’ impiety, the list itself is a bit odd. It is somewhat jarring to criticize in the same breath Achilles’ dedication of a lock of hair and his performance of human sacrifice. Such a juxtaposition is somewhat comic on the one hand but effective on the other, as it highlights even more the depravity of Achilles, who performs impious acts seemingly along the full spectrum of human behavior. In Homer, the first mention of Achilles dragging the body of Hector occurs in Iliad 22. The incident is referred to numerous times in the Iliad. In making his allusion to this episode Plato appears to mirror Homer’s language with his use of ἕλξεις (b5) (cf. ἑλκομένοιο, Il. 22.410; ἑλκόμενον, Il. 22.464; ἕλκον, Il. 22.465; ἑλκυστάζων, Il. 23.187; ἕλκεσθαι, Il. 24.15; ἕλκει Il. 24.52, 417). Further, Plato’s use of περὶ τὸ σῆμα (b5) is parallel to several of the Homeric referents as well (cf. περὶ σῆμα, Il. 24.16, 416 and περὶ σῆμ᾽, Il. 24.51). The referent

444 that Plato seems to be alluding to most clearly is Il. 24.14-18, as Plato’s Ἕκτορος ἕλξεις (b5) is strikingly reminiscent of Homer’s Ἕκτορα δ’ ἕλκεσθαι (15). The sacrifice of twelve Trojan captives on Patroclus’ funeral pyre occurs in Book 23 of the Iliad, nearly immediately after Achilles’ dedication of a lock of hair to Patroclus (cf. Allusion 35 & Quotation 39). Achilles first promises that he will accomplish this act in Book 18 of the Iliad (reproduced below). Original Context Plato Rep. 3.391b4-7 ... καὶ ὡς ἔδρασεν τοῦτο, οὐ πειστέον· [(36)τάς τε αὖ Ἕκτορος ἕλξεις περὶ τὸ σῆμα τὸ Πατρόκλου] [(37) καὶ τὰς τῶν ζωγρηθέντων σφαγὰς εἰς τὴν πυράν,] σύμπαντα ταῦτα οὐ φήσομεν ἀληθῆ εἰρῆσθαι,

5

[Socrates:] “And we must not believe that he did this: that [(36) he dragged Hector around the burial mound of Patroclus] [(37) or massacred the captives on his pyre.] All such things we will deny to be true.” Allusion 36 Il. 22.391-404 νῦν δ᾽ ἄγ᾽ ἀείδοντες παιήονα κοῦροι Ἀχαιῶν νηυσὶν ἔπι γλαφυρῇσι νεώμεθα, τόνδε δ᾽ ἄγωμεν. ἠράμεθα μέγα κῦδος· ἐπέφνομεν Ἕκτορα δῖον, ᾧ Τρῶες κατὰ ἄστυ θεῷ ὣς εὐχετόωντο. ἦ ῥα, καὶ Ἕκτορα δῖον ἀεικέα μήδετο ἔργα. [ἀμφοτέρων μετόπισθε ποδῶν τέτρηνε τένοντε ἐς σφυρὸν ἐκ πτέρνης, βοέους δ᾽ ἐξῆπτεν ἱμάντας, ἐκ δίφροιο δ᾽ ἔδησε, κάρη δ᾽ ἕλκεσθαι ἔασεν· ἐς δίφρον δ᾽ ἀναβὰς ἀνά τε κλυτὰ τεύχε᾽ ἀείρας μάστιξέν ῥ᾽ ἐλάαν, τὼ δ᾽ οὐκ ἀέκοντε πετέσθην. τοῦ δ᾽ ἦν ἑλκομένοιο κονίσαλος, ἀμφὶ δὲ χαῖται κυάνεαι πίτναντο, κάρη δ᾽ ἅπαν ἐν κονίῃσι κεῖτο πάρος χαρίεν· τότε δὲ Ζεὺς δυσμενέεσσι δῶκεν ἀεικίσσασθαι ἑῇ ἐν πατρίδι γαίῃ.]

395

400

445 [Achilles:] “But come, singing our song of victory, you sons of the Achaeans, let us go back to the hollow ships and bring this corpse. We have won us great glory; we have slain goodly Hector, to whom the Trojans made prayer throughout their city, as unto a god.” He spoke, and devised foul treatment for goodly Hector. [The tendons of both his feet behind he pierced from heel to ankle, and made fast therethrough thongs of ox hide, and bound them to his chariot, but left the head to trail. Then when he had mounted his car and had lifted therein the glorious armor, he touched the horses with the lash to start them, and nothing loath the pair sped onward. And from Hector as he was dragged the dust rose up, and on either side his dark hair flowed outspread, and all in the dust lay the head that was before so fair; but now had Zeus given him over to his foes to suffer foul treatment in his own native land.] Homer Il. 22.462-465 αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πύργόν τε καὶ ἀνδρῶν ἷξεν ὅμιλον ἔστη παπτήνασ᾽ ἐπὶ τείχεϊ, [τὸν δὲ νόησεν ἑλκόμενον πρόσθεν πόλιος· ταχέες δέ μιν ἵπποι ἕλκον ἀκηδέστως κοίλας ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν.]

465

But when she [Andromache] was come to the wall and the throng of men, then on the wall she stopped and looked, [and was aware of him [Hector] as he was dragged before the city; and swift horses were dragging him ruthlessly toward the hollow ships of the Achaeans.] Homer Il. 24.14-18300 [ἀλλ’ ὅ γ’ ἐπεὶ ζεύξειεν ὑφ’ ἅρμασιν ὠκέας ἵππους, Ἕκτορα δ’ ἕλκεσθαι δησάσκετο δίφρου ὄπισθεν, τρὶς δ’ ἐρύσας περὶ σῆμα Μενοιτιάδαο θανόντος αὖτις ἐνὶ κλισίῃ παυέσκετο, τὸν δέ τ’ ἔασκεν ἐν κόνι ἐκτανύσας προπρηνέα...]

15

[But he [Achilles] would yoke beneath the car his swift horses, and bind Hector behind the chariot to drag him withal; and when he had haled him thrice around the burial mound of the dead son of Menoetius, he would rest again in his hut, but would leave Hector outstretched on his face in the dust.] Homer Il. 24.50-52 αὐτὰρ ὅ γ᾽ Ἕκτορα δῖον, ἐπεὶ φίλον ἦτορ ἀπηύρα, [ἵππων ἐξάπτων περὶ σῆμ᾽ ἑτάροιο φίλοιο ἕλκει·] οὐ μήν οἱ τό γε κάλλιον οὐδέ τ᾽ ἄμεινον.

300

50

See Quotation 20, which concerns Achilles’ excessive grief over the death of Patroclus and his subsequent insomnia, occurring immediately before this episode in the Iliad.

446 [Apollo to the gods:] “But this man, when he has reft goodly Hector of life, [binds him behind his chariot and drags him around the burial mound of his dear comrade;] in truth neither honor nor profit shall he have therefrom.” Homer Il. 24.416-418 [ἦ μέν μιν περὶ σῆμα ἑοῦ ἑτάροιο φίλοιο ἕλκει ἀκηδέστως] ἠὼς ὅτε δῖα φανήῃ, οὐδέ μιν αἰσχύνει... [Truly Achilles drags him ruthlessly around the burial mound of his dear comrade,] so oft as sacred Dawn appears, but he marrs him not. Allusion 37 Homer Il. 18.336-337 [δώδεκα δὲ προπάροιθε πυρῆς ἀποδειροτομήσω Τρώων ἀγλαὰ τέκνα σέθεν κταμένοιο χολωθείς.] [And of twelve glorious sons of the Trojans will I cut the throats before your pyre in my wrath at your slaying.] Allusions 36 & 37 Homer Il. 23.20-26 χαῖρέ μοι ὦ Πάτροκλε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισι· πάντα γὰρ ἤδη τοι τελέω τὰ πάροιθεν ὑπέστην [Ἕκτορα δεῦρ’ ἐρύσας δώσειν κυσὶν ὠμὰ δάσασθαι,] [δώδεκα δὲ προπάροιθε πυρῆς ἀποδειροτομήσειν Τρώων ἀγλαὰ τέκνα σέθεν κταμένοιο χολωθείς.] ἦ ῥα καὶ Ἕκτορα δῖον ἀεικέα μήδετο ἔργα πρηνέα πὰρ λεχέεσσι Μενοιτιάδαο τανύσσας ἐν κονίῃς ...

20 [Allusion 36] [Allusion 37] 25

[Achilles] “Farewell my dear Patroclus, even in the house of Hades, for even now I am bringing to fulfillment all that aforetime I promised you: [(36) that I would drag Hector here and give him raw unto dogs to devour,] [(37) and of twelve glorious sons of the Trojans would I cut the throats before your pyre in my wrath at your slaying.”] He spoke, and devised foul treatment for goodly Hector, stretching him on his face in the dust before the bier of the son of Menoetius. Homer Il. 23.164-165, 175-83

447 ποίησαν δὲ πυρὴν ἑκατόμπεδον ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα, ἐν δὲ πυρῇ ὑπάτῃ νεκρὸν θέσαν ἀχνύμενοι κῆρ. ... [δώδεκα δὲ Τρώων μεγαθύμων υἱέας ἐσθλοὺς χαλκῷ δηϊόων·] κακὰ δὲ φρεσὶ μήδετο ἔργα· ἐν δὲ πυρὸς μένος ἧκε σιδήρεον ὄφρα νέμοιτο. ᾤμωξέν τ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἔπειτα, φίλον δ᾽ ὀνόμηνεν ἑταῖρον· χαῖρέ μοι ὦ Πάτροκλε καὶ εἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισι· πάντα γὰρ ἤδη τοι τελέω τὰ πάροιθεν ὑπέστην, [δώδεκα μὲν Τρώων μεγαθύμων υἱέας ἐσθλοὺς τοὺς ἅμα σοὶ πάντας πῦρ ἐσθίει·] Ἕκτορα δ᾽ οὔ τι δώσω Πριαμίδην πυρὶ δαπτέμεν, ἀλλὰ κύνεσσιν. ὣς φάτ᾽ ἀπειλήσας· τὸν δ᾽ οὐ κύνες ἀμφεπένοντο, ἀλλὰ κύνας μὲν ἄλαλκε Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἀφροδίτη ἤματα καὶ νύκτας, ῥοδόεντι δὲ χρῖεν ἐλαίῳ ἀμβροσίῳ, [ἵνα μή μιν ἀποδρύφοι ἑλκυστάζων.]

165 175 [Allusion 37]

180 [Allusion 37]

185 [Allusion 36]

And they made a pyre of a hundred feet this way and that, and on the topmost part thereof they set the dead man [Patroclus], their hearts sorrow-laden. ... [(37) And twelve valiant sons of the great-souled Trojans he [Achilles] slew with the bronze – and grim was the work he purposed in his heart and thereto he set the iron might of fire, to range at large.] Then he uttered a groan, and called on his dear comrade by name: “Hail, O Patroclus, even in the house of Hades, for now am I bringing all to pass, which aforetime I promised you. [(37) Twelve valiant sons of the great-souled Trojans, lo all these together with you the flame devours;] but Hector, son of Priam, will I nowise give to the fire to feed upon, but to dogs.” So he spoke threatening, but with Hector might no dogs deal; nay, the daughter of Zeus, Aphrodite, kept dogs from him by day alike and by night, and with oil she anointed him, rose-sweet, ambrosial, [(36) to the end that Achilles might not tear him as he dragged him.] Interpretation As has been the case in all of the citations concerning Achilles’ impiety, Socrates’ criticisms are not altogether fair. While Homer depicts Achilles defiling Hector’s body and performing human sacrifice, Achilles is criticized for these acts in Homer and indeed thwarted in his attempt to defile Hector’s body. In the latter case, the gods Apollo and Aphrodite intervene to preserve the beauty and integrity of Hector’s body (cf. Il. 23.184 ff. & Il. 24.18, 417 ff.). In many ways, Socrates himself in this section of the Republic is invoking not only the behavior of Homer’s

448 Apollo in his criticisms of Achilles but his voice as well.301 At Iliad 24.39-45, Apollo criticizes the gods’ excessive interest in Achilles and Achilles’ own impious behavior: So it is the ruthless Achilles, O gods, that you wish to succor, him whose mind is nowise right (ἐναίσιμος, 40), neither the purpose in his breast one that may be bent; but his heart is set on cruelty, even as a lion that at the bidding of his great might and lordly spirit goes forth against the flocks of men to win him a feast; even so has Achilles lost all pity (ἔλεον, 44), neither is shame (αἰδὼς, 44) in his heart, that which harms men greatly and profits them withal. The poet himself even interjects his own voice of censure as Achilles prepares to sacrifice his Trojan captives, saying “and grim was the work his mind devised” (176). In the end, Plato employs his typical means of criticizing Homer. By disassociating the Homeric episodes he cites from their original context and their dramatic or poetic function, Plato is able to take liberties with his interpretation of these episodes and make Homer appear far worse than he is. Indeed, this is an important implicit part of his misquotations in general: to show how potentially dangerous poetic texts are, given how easily they can be misread. To conclude this set of citations, Plato returns to the importance of education and character generally. He asserts that Homer’s stories about Achilles must be lies. Such behavior, to Socrates, is inconsistent with someone who not only is set up as a moral paradigm, but is also born of a goddess (cf. Allusion 6 and Quotation 20) and educated by Cheiron (cf. Allusion 9 and 31). Thus, Socrates argues, “we’ll compel the poets either to deny that the heroes did such things or else deny that they were children of the gods” (Rep. 3.391d3-5). Ultimately, Socrates is interested in the pedagogic utility of such stories: “[The poets] mustn’t ... attempt to persuade our young people ... that heroes are no better than humans. As we said earlier, these things are both 301

For more on the gods’ and perhaps the poet’s own moral condemnation of Achilles’ behavior, see Richardson (1993, ad 395-404) with further bibliography there.

449 impious and untrue.” (Rep. 3.391d5-e1). He also understands that if great men are not depicted as morally great, they will degrade the ethical conduct of those who follow their example: “Moreover these stories are harmful to people who hear them, for everyone will be ready to excuse himself when he’s bad ... for that reason, we must put a stop to such stories, lest they produce in the youth a strong inclination to do bad things.” (Rep. 3.391e4-392e6). As this citation concludes Plato’s treatment of the logos of poetic stories, the next chapter shall treat his criticisms of poetic style or lexis.

IV: CRITICISM OF POETIC LEXIS Μόνος Ἡρόδοτος Ὁμηρικώτατος ἐγένετο; Στησίχορος ἔτι πρότερον ὅ τε Ἀρχίλοχος, πάντων δὲ τούτων μάλιστα ὁ Πλάτων ἀπὸ τοῦ Ὁμηρικοῦ κείνου νάματος εἰς αὑτὸν μυρίας ὅσας παρατροπὰς ἀποχετευσάμενος. (“Longinus” On the Sublime 13.3) Was Herodotus alone a devoted imitator of Homer? No, Stesichorus even before his time, and Archilochus, and above all Plato, who from the great Homeric source drew to himself innumerable tributary streams.1

1. The Ancient Quarrel Resolved In the chapter that is to follow, we shall examine the ways in which Plato draws from the great stream that is Homer, yet does so, as I shall argue, in an attempt to supersede him, to criticize Homeric style, yet use it, where possible, to his own advantage, to create a harmony, as it were, between poetic form and philosophic ends. In this way, we shall see how Plato finally attempts to resolve, or shall we say prevail in, the ancient quarrel between poetry and philosophy. As Charles Segal portrays the contest between Plato and Homer,2 The Republic is both a tribute to and a struggle against Homer because it is so deeply pervaded by the conviction that poetry exercises a compelling formative power on the human soul. Hence, the Republic itself purports to be a new kind of poetry and a new kind of myth. It replaces Homeric myth with a new mythology of the soul.

1 2

The text and translation is based on the edition of Roberts (1899). Segal 1978, 333. 450

451 On the one hand, then, we shall see how Plato uses poetic tropes and form, such as an appeal to the Muses (cf. Paraphrase 5 & Quotation 40) or myth in general (cf. esp. Allusion 41 & 42), yet does so in a way that is hardly poetic. In short, he uses poetry, as he did in his Homeric quotations, to carry on his campaign of censorship, or as I often term it, philosophic revision. On the other hand, we shall also see how Plato adopts poetic form, yet strips it of all that gives it an advantage over philosophy, namely poetry’s charm, beauty, and ability to effect an emotional response. We shall see this especially in the case of Socrates’ re-writing of the beginning of the Iliad (cf. esp. Paraphrase 6). What Plato does with poetry, if we consider Socrates’ own definition of moderation – “something in which the better rules the worse is properly called moderate and self-controlled” – 3

is to introduce the virtue of moderation into poetic discourse. By subordinating poetry to

philosophy, he corrects the problems he sees in poetic discourse and thus creates a (just) harmony between poetry and philosophy, similar to that which he describes in both society and the human soul. This is a fitting exercise, and works well with the other three-fold structures pervading the whole of the Republic: in the soul we have a three-fold structure of reason, emotion, and appetite; in society, between rulers, guardians, and money-makers. In the same way, Plato seems to be proposing in practice in the Republic a three-fold harmony between the goals of philosophy, the methods of rhetoric, and the beauty of poetry. For in the same way that the character of men defines the character of a society,4 the nature of those men’s education – be it through poetry, philosophy, rhetoric, or even sophistry – defines their character.5 In Plato’s eyes, if poetry and other forms of discourse are not reeled in, guided, directed, moderated by 3

Rep. 4.431b6-7. See, e. g., Rep. 4.425e, 4.445c-d, 8.544d, 9.579c, and 9.591e. See also Laws 8.829a. 5 Rep. 2.376c-383c. 4

452 philosophy, the soul of man (and by extension society) will fail to be properly attuned. Simply put, in Plato’s view justice and even happiness are impossible without philosophy as ruler. To reign in poetry, then, Plato becomes a kind of poet himself in order to model how poetry ought to be composed. In effect, he becomes that man in the city who is potentially the most dangerous: the master imitator.6 Unlike the master imitator, however, Plato imitates poetry, he “molds” it (in accord with the etymology of his own name), in a way that is beneficial, educationally effective, and in a way that fulfills philosophic goals. By weaving poetry into philosophic discourse, moreover, Plato turns poetry into something that encourages active, rational discourse, from something that creates a passive, emotional response. He does this by turning a silent, poetic audience into a vocal collection of philosophic interlocutors. In the end, we can do nothing more than to agree with “Longinus” that Plato is very much a master of the poetic form, despite his contention with it. And while he feels the need to correct, censor, and rewrite Homer, there is little doubt that he owes much of his success as a writer to his poetic rival: There would not have been so fine a bloom of perfection on Plato’s philosophical doctrines, and … he would not in many cases have found his way to poetical subjectmatter and modes of expression, unless he had with all his heart and mind struggled with Homer for primacy, entering the lists like a young champion matched against the man whom all admire. Perhaps he showed too much love of contention, breaking a lance with him as it were, but derived some profit from the contest nonetheless.7

6 7

Rep. 3.398a-b. “Longinus” (On the Sublime 13.4).

453 Proverbial Citation 3: Plato Rep. 8.544d7-8 (Cf. Plato Apology 34d4-5; Sophist 246a8; Phaedrus 275b8) : Homer Od. 19.163 (Cf. Homer Il. 22.126; Hesiod Theogony 35)8 Paraphrase 5: Plato Rep. 8.545d8 (Cf. Plato Phaedrus 237a7-b1; Euthydemus 275c7-d2; Critias 108c3-4) : Homer Il. 16.112 (Cf. Homer Il. 2.484; 11.218; 14.508; Hesiod Theogony 114)9 & Quotation 40: Plato Rep. 8.545d8-e1 : Homer Il. 16.113 Interpretive Context The Platonic and Homeric passages in question in Paraphrase 5 and Quotation 40 come during important and late turning points in their respective works. In each case, the passages mark sections of the Republic that resolve earlier issues (or aspects of the plot, as the case may be), that mark a turn towards resolution, a commonly recognized function of appeals to the Muses in Greek literature,10 which these Platonic and Homeric passages share in common. In the Republic, here in Book 8, Socrates finally returns to a discussion he had left off abruptly in Book 4. There he had been prepared to contrast four types of defective cities with his own model of a philosophically-based kingship. He is interrupted when Polemarchus asks him to explain further what he means by saying that the guardians will hold wives and children in common (cf. Rep 4.423e-424a.). Addressing this and more wide-ranging issues and criticisms in Books 5-7, Socrates only returns to his discussion of the types of defective cities in Book 8.

8

Other later sources that make use of this proverb include Plutarch (Consolatio ad Uxorem 608c), Cicero (ad Atticus 23.28), Ovid (Ars Amatoria 2.541), and Nonnus (48.504). 9 All the cross-references listed above are identical to Il. 16.112. Socrates is clearly alluding to the idea of a Homeric appeal to the Muses. The specific referent of this paraphrase, however, is Il. 16.112 as Socrates goes on to quote Il. 16.113 directly. The only other appeals to the Muses in Homer that are not in the same form as those listed above appear at Il. 2.761 and Od. 1.1. 10 See esp. Minton (1960, 296 ff.), who argues in favor of a crisis-struggle-defeat pattern in Homer’s appeals to the Muses. See also Thornton (1984, 41-4).

454 Socrates begins by framing this discussion in proverbial or Homeric terms. First, to settle the issue as to whether or not political constitutions are determined by the character of the citizens, Socrates asks Glaucon whether he thinks that constitutions are born “from oak or rock,” or “from the characters of the people who live in [them].”11 The phrase “from oak or rock” that Socrates uses appears two times, in varied form, in Homer, at Iliad 22.126 and Odyssey 19.163, not to mention Hesiod and some later sources as well. The most likely referent for Socrates’ use of the phrase here, as the scholiast first points out, and as I shall argue more fully below, is Od. 19.163. Here, Penelope is questioning Odysseus, still disguised in his own halls as a beggar, about his origins: “Yet even so tell me of your stock from whence you are; for you are not sprung from an oak of ancient story, or from rock” (cf. Od. 19.162-3). In the same way, that Socrates assumes political institutions must have some kind of origin – they are not simply spontaneously generated, as in certain mythical accounts about the generation of men –12 Penelope assumes Odysseus-beggar must have some kind of origin as well. At any rate, Socrates’ discussion about defective cities will not only resolve a discussion delayed from Book 4, but it will also, as he claims, finally settle his initial dispute with Thrasymachus, from Book 2: In this way, we can complete our investigation into how pure justice (ἡ ἄκρατος δικαιοσύνη, a6) and pure injustice (ἀδικίαν τὴν ἄκρατον, a7) stand, with regard to the happiness or wretchedness of those who possess them, and either be persuaded by Thrasymachus to practice injustice or by the argument that is now coming to light to practice justice.13

11

On the correspondence between character and constitution, see Saxonhouse (1998, 277), who sees here an implied criticism on the part of Socrates of the Athenian autochthony myth. 12 On such myths, see Heubeck (1989, ad loc.). 13 Rep. 8.545a5-b2.

455 Thus, with such major issues to be resolved, Socrates in mock seriousness calls for divine aid. In imitation of Homer himself, he calls upon the Muses, playfully misquoting and misappropriating Iliad 16.112-113, in order to summon the power to explain how one political regime devolves into another: How, then, Glaucon, will our city be changed? How will civil war arise, either between the auxiliaries and the rulers or within either group? Or do you want us to be like Homer and pray to the Muses to tell us “how civil war [στάσις, e1] first broke out?”14 The word Socrates introduces in this Homeric passage is στάσις, a substitute for Homer’s πῦρ “fire.” Whereas in Homer the Trojans use fire (πῦρ, Il. 16.113) to destroy the Greek ships, in Plato στάσις is the destructive force in question.15 By making this substitution, Socrates is able to link the Iliad and the Republic together. Yet he does so by making the original Homeric phrase fit its new philosophic context.16 Mitscherling explains the effect of this substitution as follows: “Plato’s substitution of στάσις for πῦρ, if we translate the former term as ‘faction,’ replaces the obvious feeling of physically flame-driven urgency with a more cerebral, political sense of tension or military dissatisfaction.”17 Hobbs, moreover, reminds us of the obvious connection that πῦρ has in Homer with political στάσις: At 545d … Socrates claims that the initial cause of all decline from the ideal state is sedition, stasis, amongst the leaders. Stasis is clearly one of Achilles’ hallmarks, and it is at any rate possible that Socrates has Achilles in mind here … Socrates’ audience would

14

Rep. 8.545d5-e1. The idea that a political regime is destroyed by factions in the ruling class is hardly novel in the Platonic corpus, nor in antiquity in general (cf. Lysias 25.21; Rep. 5.465b; Laws 3.683e; Aristotle Pol. 1305b; 1306a10). 16 We will consider the meaning of this substitution more in depth below under Textual Differences. There we will also consider differing interpretations of the substitution. 17 Mitscherling 2009, 431. 15

456 not have needed reminding that the chief cause of the fire [to the Greeks’ ships] was Achilles’ wrath and seditious withdrawal from the fighting.18 In the same way that Socrates’ appeal to the Muses in Book 8 signals an important turning point in the argument of the work, a point at which long-standing issues will be resolved, in Homer, the poet’s appeal to the Muses in Book 16 of the Iliad works in much the same way. Rather than resolving arguments, however, the appeal in the Iliad resolves the plot. As Leaf puts it, “The appeal to the Muses fitly introduces the great crisis of the Iliad – the climax of Greek defeat on which the plot turns.”19 In Book 16 of the Iliad, the Trojans have set fire to the first of the Greek ships, a climactic event that will introduce into the narrative other long-awaited events –20 akin to Socrates’ long-awaited arguments above – such as Patroclus’ entry in the battle, forecast at Il. 15.64-65, his death (cf. Il. 8.475-477, 11.603-604, and 15.65-66), both of which must occur for the plot to move towards its ultimate resolution, signaled by Achilles’ return to battle (foreshadowed at Il. 2.694, 8.474, and 15.68). As Elizabeth Minchin puts it, “The firing of the ships, therefore, changes the course of the narrative. It sets it on the path towards resolution.”21 Plato’s masterful, utterly conventional (yet ironic) use of an appeal to the Muses in this passage of the Republic is striking to say the least, but perhaps should not surprise us too much given his

18

Hobbs 2000, 204. See also Adam ([1902] 2010, ad 8.545d) who writes similarly, “Homer appeals to the Muses at the turning-point of his narrative.” See also Minchin (1995). 20 The firing of the ships is foreshadowed at Il. 9.601-2, 650-3. 21 Minchin 1995, 30. For more on this interpretation of Homer’s appeal to the Muses in Book 16 of the Iliad, see, e.g., Ameis & Hentze (1844, 14): “Das letzte Moment, welches den Achill zu augenblicklicher Absendung des Patroklos zwingt, der Anfang der Katastrophe, ist es wohl wert, dass darum die Musen angerufen werden.” Minton (1960, 300) likewise calls the firing of the ships “the central crisis of the epic.” 19

457 evident, deep understanding of the power and effect of the Homeric form, not to mention his ability to pervert it for his own purposes.22 Original Context Proverbial Citation 3 Plato Rep. 544d6-e2 Οἶσθ᾽ οὖν, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, ὅτι καὶ ἀνθρώπων εἴδη τοσαῦτα ἀνάγκη τρόπων εἶναι, ὅσαπερ καὶ πολιτειῶν; ἢ οἴει [ἐκ δρυός ποθεν ἢ ἐκ πέτρας] τὰς πολιτείας γίγνεσθαι, ἀλλ᾽ οὐχὶ ἐκ τῶν ἠθῶν τῶν ἐν ταῖς πόλεσιν, ἃ ἂν ὥσπερ ῥέψαντα τἆλλα ἐφελκύσηται;

e

[Socrates to Glaucon:] “And do you realize that of necessity there are as many forms of human character as there are of constitutions? Or do you think that constitutions are born [“from oak or rock”] and not from the characters of the people who live in the cities governed by them, which tip the scales, so to speak, and drag the rest along with them?” Homer Od. 19.156-163 ὣς τὸ μὲν ἐξετέλεσσα, καὶ οὐκ ἐθέλους᾽, ὑπ᾽ ἀνάγκης· νῦν δ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἐκφυγέειν δύναμαι γάμον οὔτε τιν᾽ ἄλλην μῆτιν ἔθ᾽ εὑρίσκω· μάλα δ᾽ ὀτρύνουσι τοκῆες γήμασθ᾽, ἀσχαλάᾳ δὲ πάϊς βίοτον κατεδόντων, γιγνώσκων· ἤδη γὰρ ἀνὴρ οἶός τε μάλιστα οἴκου κήδεσθαι, τῷ τε Ζεὺς κῦδος ὀπάζει. ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς μοι εἰπὲ τεὸν γένος, ὁππόθεν ἐσσί. οὐ γὰρ [ἀπὸ δρυός ἐσσι παλαιφάτου οὐδ᾽ ἀπὸ πέτρης.”]

160

[Penelope to Odysseus:] So I finished the tapestry against my will perforce. And now I can neither escape the marriage nor devise any counsel more, and my parents are pressing me to marry, and my son frets, while these men devour his livelihood, as he takes note of it all; for by now he is a man, and fully able to care for a household to which Zeus grants honor. Yet even so tell me of your stock from whence you are; for you are not sprung [from an oak of ancient story, or from rock.”] Paraphrase 5 & Quotation 40 22

For more on Plato’s conventional use of this and his other appeals to the Muses, see Jackson (1971, esp. 34).

458 Plato Rep. 8.545c9-e3 … ἢ τόδε μὲν ἁπλοῦν, ὅτι πᾶσα πολιτεία μεταβάλλει ἐξ αὐτοῦ τοῦ ἔχοντος τὰς ἀρχάς, ὅταν ἐν αὐτῷ τούτῳ στάσις ἐγγένηται· ὁμονοοῦντος δέ, κἂν πάνυ ὀλίγον ᾖ, ἀδύνατον κινηθῆναι; Ἔστι γὰρ οὕτω. Πῶς οὖν δή, εἶπον, ὦ Γλαύκων, ἡ πόλις ἡμῖν κινηθήσεται, καὶ πῇ στασιάσουσιν οἱ ἐπίκουροι καὶ οἱ ἄρχοντες πρὸς ἀλλήλους τε καὶ πρὸς ἑαυτούς; ἢ βούλει, ὥσπερ Ὅμηρος, [(5) εὐχώμεθα ταῖς Μούσαις εἰπεῖν ἡμῖν] [(40) ὅπως δὴ πρῶτον στάσις ἔμπεσε], καὶ φῶμεν αὐτὰς τραγικῶς ὡς πρὸς παῖδας ἡμᾶς παιζούσας καὶ ἐρεσχηλούσας, ὡς δὴ σπουδῇ λεγούσας, ὑψηλολογουμένας λέγειν;

d

5

e

[Socrates:] “Or is it a simple principle that the cause of change in any constitution is civil war breaking out within the ruling group itself, but that if this group – however small it is – remains of one mind, the constitution cannot be changed?” [Glaucon:] “Yes, that’s right.” “How, then, Glaucon will our city be changed? How will civil war arise, either between the auxiliaries and the rulers or within either group? Or do you want us to be like Homer and [(5) pray to the Muses to tell us] [(40) ‘how civil war first broke out?’] And shall we say that they speak to us in tragic tones, as if they were in earnest, playing and jesting with us as if we were children?” Homer Il. 16.112-113 [(5) ἔσπετε νῦν μοι Μοῦσαι] Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχουσαι, [(40) ὅππως δὴ πρῶτον πῦρ ἔμπεσε] νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν.

112

[(5) Tell me now, Muses,] that have dwellings on Olympus, [(40) how fire first broke out upon the ships of the Achaeans.] Cross-References Proverbial Citation 3 Below, in the Apology, Socrates seems clearly to be referring to Homer’s “oak or rock” from Od. 19.163. In the same way that Penelope assumes Odysseus must have some human origins in Book 19, Socrates, despite his heroic stance before death and his reputation as one who is “superior to the majority of men” (Ap. 35a1), admits, rather ironically, that he is yet human

459 anyway. In contrast to Rep. 8.544d7-8, Socrates explicitly notes Homer as the author of the proverb. Socrates’ text here is somewhat closer to Od. 19.163 than Rep. 8.544d7-8 is, where the preposition ἐκ (d7) is used rather than Homer’s ἀπὸ. Plato Apology 34d3-8 “Ἐμοί, ὦ ἄριστε, εἰσὶν μέν πού τινες καὶ οἰκεῖοι· καὶ γὰρ τοῦτο αὐτὸ τὸ τοῦ Ὁμήρου, οὐδ᾽ ἐγὼ [‘ἀπὸ δρυὸς οὐδ᾽ ἀπὸ πέτρης’] πέφυκα ἀλλ᾽ ἐξ ἀνθρώπων,23 ὥστε καὶ οἰκεῖοί μοί εἰσι καὶ ὑεῖς γε, ὦ ἄνδρες Ἀθηναῖοι, τρεῖς, εἷς μὲν μειράκιον ἤδη, δύο δὲ παιδία· ἀλλ᾽ ὅμως οὐδένα αὐτῶν δεῦρο ἀναβιβασάμενος δεήσομαι ὑμῶν ἀποψηφίσασθαι.”

5

[Socrates:] “My good sir, I too have a household and, in Homer’s phrase, I am not born ‘from oak or rock’ but from men, so that I have a family, indeed three sons, men of Athens, of whom one is an adolescent while two are children. Nevertheless, I will not beg you to acquit me by bringing them here.” While I have included the passage below from the Phaedrus among the Cross-References, unlike some other scholars I do not take it to be a true cross-reference. While Socrates couples the terms oak and rock here in the Phaedrus, there is no reason that such a coupling is proverbial in nature or inspired from Homer.24 Following Labarbe,25 I take “oak” to refer here to the oracle at Dodona, “rock” to that of Delphi. Plato Phaedrus 275b5-c2 Οἱ δέ γ᾽, ὦ φίλε, ἐν τῷ τοῦ Διὸς τοῦ Δωδωναίου ἱερῷ δρυὸς λόγους ἔφησαν μαντικοὺς πρώτους γενέσθαι. τοῖς μὲν οὖν τότε, ἅτε οὐκ οὖσι σοφοῖς ὥσπερ ὑμεῖς οἱ νέοι, ἀπέχρη [δρυὸς καὶ πέτρας] ἀκούειν ὑπ᾽ εὐηθείας, εἰ μόνον 23

5

As Labarbe (1949, 305) points out, the phrase πέφυκα ἀλλ᾽ ἐξ ἀνθρώπων seems to correspond roughly to ἀλλ᾽ οὐχὶ ἐκ τῶν ἠθῶν (Rep. 8.544.d8-e1), giving more credence to the notion that Rep. 8.544d7-8 corresponds to Od. 19.163. 24 This is also the case at Sophist 246a8, where Plato’s Giants grasp rocks and oak (πέτρας καὶ δρῦς). See, however, Boys-Stones (2010, 42 n. 24) who sees a veiled reference to Hesiod’s Giants here. 25 Labarbe 1949, 305.

460 ἀληθῆ λέγοιεν· σοὶ δ᾽ ἴσως διαφέρει τίς ὁ λέγων καὶ ποδαπός. οὐ γὰρ ἐκεῖνο μόνον σκοπεῖς, εἴτε οὕτως εἴτε ἄλλως ἔχει;

c

[Socrates:] “They used to say, my friend, that the words of the oak in the holy place of Zeus at Dodona were the first prophetic utterances. The people of that time, not being so wise as you young folks, were content in their simplicity to hear an [oak or rock,] provided only it spoke the truth; but to you, perhaps, it makes a difference who the speaker is and where he comes from, for you do not consider only whether his words are true or not.” Whereas in the Odyssey, the Republic, and the Apology, the proverbial coupling of oak and rock refers to the ability to identify the human origin of something, especially in the case of genealogy, in the passage from the Iliad below, it is not clear if the proverb is being used in the same way (or indeed if Homer is even referencing the same proverb, a hypothesis heretofore not noted in the vast amount of scholarship produced on this proverb).26 In this passage from the Iliad, Hector realizes the absurdity of attempting to have a civilized conversation with Achilles. He understands that he will not be able to discuss such things as “oak and rock” with him. While it is perhaps best to assume with West and others that the meaning of this proverbial expression “is lost in antiquity,”27 Labarbe’s reading does deserve mention here. He argues that there is a connection here between the use of the “oak or rock” proverb at Il 22.126 and Od. 19.163:28

26

See, however, Verdenius (1972, 241), who does see a connection between the use of the phrase “oak or rock” in both the Iliad and the Odyssey: “the tree and rock talk is a proverbial expression for personal confidences based on the custom of enlarging on one’s descent.” For a summary of interpretations of the phrase “oak or rock” generally see A. B. Cook (1901, 322-6), Labarbe (1949, 301-5), Verdenius (1958), M. L. West (1966, 167-9), and most recently Schmoll (1994). For possible Indo-European roots of such a phrase, see Watkins (1995, 12 ff.). Leaf (1900-2) rightly points out that proverbs often change in meaning over time or are disassociated from their original context. He uses the analogy of the English proverb “cock and bull,” which originally implied “aimless discursiveness,” but now means “gross incredibility.” 27 M. L. West 1966, 169. For a similar opinion on this passage, see, e.g., Monro ([1902] 1978, ad loc.) and Leaf (1900-1902, ad loc.). 28 Labarbe 1949, 301-2.

461 La fille et le garçon qui bavardent ensemble font connaissance en parlant de leurs ascendants respectifs; comme ils ont du temps à perdre, ils remontent haut dans l’histoire de leurs familles, avec l’espoir d’y trouver quelque chose qui les lie. De même Hector, s’il s’était, à loisir, entretenu avec Achille, aurait pu passer avec lui une “revue des ancêtres” où serait apparu, en cherchent bien, un lointain cousinage – des raisons de se saluer comme parents ou comme hôtes. He argues further that there is precedence for this discussion of genealogies among heroes as a means to avoid conflict, namely the encounter between Diomedes and Menelaus at Iliad 6.119 ff. (cf. Quotation 41). Homer Il. 22.111-130 εἰ δέ κεν ἀσπίδα μὲν καταθείομαι ὀμφαλόεσσαν καὶ κόρυθα βριαρήν, δόρυ δὲ πρὸς τεῖχος ἐρείσας αὐτὸς ἰὼν Ἀχιλῆος ἀμύμονος ἀντίος ἔλθω καί οἱ ὑπόσχωμαι Ἑλένην καὶ κτήμαθ᾽ ἅμ᾽ αὐτῇ, πάντα μάλ᾽ ὅσσά τ᾽ Ἀλέξανδρος κοίλῃς ἐνὶ νηυσὶν ἠγάγετο Τροίηνδ᾽, ἥ τ᾽ ἔπλετο νείκεος ἀρχή, δωσέμεν Ἀτρεΐδῃσιν ἄγειν, ἅμα δ᾽ ἀμφὶς Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλλ᾽ ἀποδάσσεσθαι ὅσα τε πτόλις ἥδε κέκευθε· Τρωσὶν δ᾽ αὖ μετόπισθε γερούσιον ὅρκον ἕλωμαι μή τι κατακρύψειν, ἀλλ᾽ ἄνδιχα πάντα δάσασθαι κτῆσιν ὅσην πτολίεθρον ἐπήρατον ἐντὸς ἐέργει· ἀλλὰ τί ἤ μοι ταῦτα φίλος διελέξατο θυμός; μή μιν ἐγὼ μὲν ἵκωμαι ἰών, ὃ δέ μ᾽ οὐκ ἐλεήσει οὐδέ τί μ᾽ αἰδέσεται, κτενέει δέ με γυμνὸν ἐόντα αὔτως ὥς τε γυναῖκα, ἐπεί κ᾽ ἀπὸ τεύχεα δύω. οὐ μέν πως νῦν ἔστιν [ἀπὸ δρυὸς οὐδ᾽ ἀπὸ πέτρης] τῷ ὀαριζέμεναι, ἅ τε παρθένος ἠΐθεός τε παρθένος ἠΐθεός τ᾽ ὀαρίζετον ἀλλήλοιιν. βέλτερον αὖτ᾽ ἔριδι ξυνελαυνέμεν ὅττι τάχιστα· εἴδομεν ὁπποτέρῳ κεν Ὀλύμπιος εὖχος ὀρέξῃ.

115

120

125

130

[Hector:] “Or what if I lay down my bossed shield and my heavy helm, and leaning my spear against the wall, go myself to meet peerless Achilles, and promise him that Helen, and with her all the store of treasure that Paris brought in his hollow ships to Troy — that which was the beginning of strife—will we give to the sons of Atreus to take away, and furthermore and separate therefrom will make due division with the Achaeans of all that this city holds; and if thereafter I take from the Trojans an oath sworn by the elders that they will hide nothing, but will divide in two all the treasure that the lovely city holds within? But why does my heart thus hold converse with me? Let it not be that I go and draw near to him, but he then pity me not nor

462 anywise have reverence towards me, but slay me out of hand all unarmed, as if I were a woman, when I have put from me my armor. In no wise may I now [from oak or from rock] converse with him, even as youth and maiden—youth and maiden! — converse one with the other. Better were it to clash in strife with all speed; let us know to which of us the Olympian will vouchsafe glory.” In Hesiod, likewise, this proverbial expression is used quite unlike the Republic, Apology, and the Odyssey. Here, when the poet chides himself for speaking about “oak and rock,” he seems to mean, in the words of Hugh G. Evelyn-White, “Why enlarge on irrelevant topics?”29 According to some scholars, this creates a loose tie with Iliad 22, where “oak or rock,” may refer generally to idle chatter. At any rate, for our purposes, Hesiod’s use of the phrase seemingly has little or no relevance to Socrates’ use of it at Rep. 8.544d7-8. Hesiod Theogony 22-39 αἵ νύ ποθ᾽ Ἡσίοδον καλὴν ἐδίδαξαν ἀοιδήν, ἄρνας ποιμαίνονθ᾽ Ἑλικῶνος ὕπο ζαθέοιο. τόνδε δέ με πρώτιστα θεαὶ πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπον, Μοῦσαι Ὀλυμπιάδες, κοῦραι Διὸς αἰγιόχοιο· ποιμένες ἄγραυλοι, κάκ᾽ ἐλέγχεα, γαστέρες οἶον, ἴδμεν ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγειν ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα, ἴδμεν δ᾽, εὖτ᾽ ἐθέλωμεν, ἀληθέα γηρύσασθαι. ὣς ἔφασαν κοῦραι μεγάλου Διὸς ἀρτιέπειαι· καί μοι σκῆπτρον ἔδον δάφνης ἐριθηλέος ὄζον δρέψασαι, θηητόν· ἐνέπνευσαν δέ μοι αὐδὴν θέσπιν, ἵνα κλείοιμι τά τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα. καί μ᾽ ἐκέλονθ᾽ ὑμνεῖν μακάρων γένος αἰὲν ἐόντων, σφᾶς δ᾽ αὐτὰς πρῶτόν τε καὶ ὕστατον αἰὲν ἀείδειν. ἀλλὰ τί ἦ μοι ταῦτα [περὶ δρῦν ἢ περὶ πέτρην;] τύνη, Μουσάων ἀρχώμεθα, ταὶ Διὶ πατρὶ ὑμνεῦσαι τέρπουσι μέγαν νόον ἐντὸς Ὀλύμπου, εἰρεῦσαι τά τ᾽ ἐόντα τά τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα, φωνῇ ὁμηρεῦσαι …

25

30

35

And one day they taught Hesiod glorious song while he was shepherding his lambs under holy Helicon, and this word first the goddesses said to me — the Muses of Olympus, daughters of 29

Evelyn-White 1914, ad loc. See also Schmoll (1994), who contains the most comprehensive analysis of the “oak or rock” phrase in Hesiod to-date.

463 Zeus who holds the aegis: “Shepherds of the wilderness, wretched things of shame, mere bellies, we know how to speak many false things as though they were true; but we know, when we will, to utter true things.” So said the ready-voiced daughters of great Zeus, and they plucked and gave me a rod, a shoot of sturdy laurel, a marvelous thing, and breathed into me a divine voice to celebrate things that shall be and things that were aforetime; and they bade me sing of the race of the blessed gods that are eternally, but ever to sing of themselves both first and last. But why all this [about oak or stone?] Come you, let us begin with the Muses who gladden the great spirit of their father Zeus in Olympus with their songs, telling of things that are and that shall be and that were aforetime with consenting voice. Paraphrase 5 & Quotation 40 In the Phaedrus, Socrates, once again assuming the guise of poet, makes an appeal to the Muses before he gives an account of the nature of love, an account meant to rival the one Phaedrus has just recited from the orator Lysias. As above, the appeal is made in the spirit of a jest. Socrates goes so far as to complain of being carried into a “Bacchic frenzy” (cf. 234d) during Phaedrus’ recitation, at which point Phaedrus asks him to stop his joking (cf. 236b). Socrates’ address to the Muses here also has a sort of mock epic tone, set off by Socrates’ use of the epithet “clearvoiced” (λίγειαι, a7) to describe the Muses.30 Plato Phaedrus 237a7-b1 Ἄγετε δή, ὦ Μοῦσαι, εἴτε δι᾽ ᾠδῆς εἶδος λίγειαι, εἴτε διὰ γένος μουσικὸν τὸ Λιγύων ταύτην ἔσχετ᾽ ἐπωνυμίαν, “ξύμ μοι λάβεσθε” τοῦ μύθου, ὅν με ἀναγκάζει ὁ βέλτιστος οὑτοσὶ λέγειν, ἵν᾽ ὁ ἑταῖρος αὐτοῦ, καὶ πρότερον δοκῶν τούτῳ σοφὸς εἶναι, νῦν ἔτι μᾶλλον δόξῃ.

10 b

[Socrates:] “Come to me, O you clear-voiced Muses, whether you are called so because of the quality of your song or from the musical people of Liguria, ‘come take up my burden’ in telling the tale that this fine fellow forces upon me so that his companion may now seem to him even more clever than he did before.”

30

Note Homer’s use of the phrase Μοῦσα λίγεια at Od. 24.62. Socrates’ subsequent etymology for λίγειαι, as Hackforth ([1952] 1997, 36 n. 1) and others have pointed out, is likely a jest in itself.

464 Socrates’ appeal to the Muses in the Euthydemus is quite similar in tone to that of the Republic. In the Euthydemus, Socrates prays to the Muses and Memory for aid in remembering a particular conversation held by the Sophists Euthydemus and Dionysodorus with the young Clinias. While, as in the Republic, he uses this appeal in a conventional way – as a way to stave off aporesis (on which point see Interpretation below) – he is jesting in his use of it. Socrates’ praise of and enthusiastic interest in the Sophists’ mastery of the art of eristics and their ability to teach virtue is ironic, as is his characterization of such knowledge as “wisdom” (σοφίαν, c7) below. Plato Euthydemus 275c5-d4 Τὰ δὴ μετὰ ταῦτα, ὦ Κρίτων, πῶς ἂν καλῶς σοι διηγησαίμην; οὐ γὰρ σμικρὸν τὸ ἔργον δύνασθαι ἀναλαβεῖν διεξιόντα σοφίαν ἀμήχανον ὅσην· ὥστ᾽ ἔγωγε, καθάπερ οἱ ποιηταί, δέομαι ἀρχόμενος τῆς διηγήσεως μούσας τε καὶ Μνημοσύνην ἐπικαλεῖσθαι. ἤρξατο δ᾽ οὖν ἐνθένδε ποθὲν ὁ Εὐθύδημος, ὡς ἐγᾦμαι· ὦ Κλεινία, πότεροί εἰσι τῶν ἀνθρώπων οἱ μανθάνοντες, οἱ σοφοὶ ἢ οἱ ἀμαθεῖς;

5 d

[Socrates:] “As to what happened next, Crito, how shall I give you an adequate description of it? It is no small task to be able to recall such wisdom in detail, it was so great. So I ought to begin my account as the poets do, by invoking the Muses and Memory. Well, Euthydemus, as I remember, began something like this: ‘Clinias, which are the men who learn, the wise or the ignorant?” Finally, in the Critias, as K. T. Frost points out,31 the imitation of epic style reaches an entirely new height, this time through Critias’ incredible narrative about Atlantis: After a short perfunctory introduction the Critias starts from the beginning as an unbroken narrative cast in the regular form of an Epic poem, with Invocation of the Muse, detailed description of the combatants, careful mention of dates and numbers, and a Council of the Gods. It breaks off immediately before the great speech of the Father of Gods and Men which would set forth the argument of the coming struggle, at a point 31

Frost 1913, 204.

465 which is curiously abrupt in prose but which is exactly where an epic poet would naturally pause in composition. Further the speech of Critias from the beginning of the invocation to the end of the description of Atlantis and the beginning of the Council of the Gods is almost exactly the same length as the first book of the Iliad up to the promise of Zeus to Thetis and the subsequent scene among the Gods. Plato Critias 108c1-5, d1-8 Ἀλλὰ γὰρ ἀθυμοῦντες ἄνδρες οὔπω τρόπαιον ἔστησαν, ὦ Κριτία· προϊέναι τε οὖν ἐπὶ τὸν λόγον ἀνδρείως χρή, καὶ τὸν Παίωνά τε καὶ τὰς μούσας ἐπικαλούμενον τοὺς παλαιοὺς πολίτας ἀγαθοὺς ὄντας ἀναφαίνειν τε καὶ ὑμνεῖν. … πρὸς οἷς θεοῖς εἶπες τούς τε ἄλλους κλητέον καὶ δὴ καὶ τὰ μάλιστα Μνημοσύνην. σχεδὸν γὰρ τὰ μέγιστα ἡμῖν τῶν λόγων ἐν ταύτῃ τῇ θεῷ πάντ᾽ ἐστίν· μνησθέντες γὰρ ἱκανῶς καὶ ἀπαγγείλαντες τά ποτε ῥηθέντα ὑπὸ τῶν ἱερέων καὶ δεῦρο ὑπὸ Σόλωνος κομισθέντα σχεδὸν οἶδ᾽ ὅτι τῷδε τῷ θεάτρῳ δόξομεν τὰ προσήκοντα μετρίως ἀποτετελεκέναι. τοῦτ᾽ οὖν αὔτ᾽ ἤδη δραστέον, καὶ μελλητέον οὐδὲν ἔτι.

5 d

5

[Socrates:] “But even so, Critias, the faint hearted have never yet set up a victory monument. You must march bravely forward to encounter your speech, and, as you invoke Paeon and the Muses, display in your hymn of praise the bravery of your ancient citizens.” … [Critias:] “In addition to the gods you just named, I must invoke the other gods and make a special prayer to Mnemosyne. The success or failure of just about everything that is most important in our speech lies in the lap of this goddess. For if we can sufficiently recall and relate what was said long ago by the priests and brought here to Athens by Solon, you the audience in our theater will find, I am confident, that we have put on a worthy performance and acquitted ourselves of our task. So much said. Now we must act. Let us delay no more.” Texts & Textual Differences Proverbial Citation 3 Plato Rep. 544d7-8 ἢ οἴει [ἐκ δρυός ποθεν ἢ ἐκ πέτρας] τὰς πολιτείας γίγνεσθαι Homer Od. 19.162-163

466 ἀλλὰ καὶ ὥς μοι εἰπὲ τεὸν γένος, ὁππόθεν ἐσσί. οὐ γὰρ [ἀπὸ δρυός ἐσσι παλαιφάτου οὐδ᾽ ἀπὸ πέτρης.”] Homer Il. 22.126 οὐ μέν πως νῦν ἔστιν [ἀπὸ δρυὸς οὐδ᾽ ἀπὸ πέτρης] While Socrates’ proverbial citation here is not a quotation proper, it is still productive to point out some differences between Plato’s and Homer’s text: 1) Socrates uses the preposition ἐκ (d6) for Homer’s ἀπὸ (163 / 216). 2) Socrates uses the Attic πέτρας (d7) for Homer’s Ionian form πέτρης (163 / 216). 3) Socrates’ citation does not explicitly mirror any of Homer’s negatives (cf. οὐδ᾽, 163 / 216), but it is fairly clear given the context of the sentence in Plato that Socrates expects a negative answer to his question of whether political constitutions derive “from oak or rock.” 4) The word παλαιφάτου (163) is altogether absent from Plato. It is interesting to note, however, as Labarbe and others suggest,32 that this word perhaps indicates that the phrase “oak or rock” was already proverbial by the time of Homer. Alternately, παλαιφάτου may mark a textual allusion, namely the fact that the phrase had already appeared in the Iliad. Finally, in support of the thesis that Rep. 544d7-8 more closely refers to Od. 19.163 than Il. 22.126, note the correspondence between ποθεν … γίγνεσθαι (d8) in the Republic and ὁππόθεν ἐσσί (162) in the Odyssey. Paraphrase 5 & Quotation 40 32

Labarbe 1949, 301.

467 Plato Rep. 8.545d8-e1 [(5) εὐχώμεθα ταῖς Μούσαις εἰπεῖν ἡμῖν] [(40) ὅπως δὴ πρῶτον στάσις ἔμπεσε] Homer Il. 16.112-113 [(5) ἔσπετε νῦν μοι Μοῦσαι] Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχουσαι, [(40) ὅππως δὴ πρῶτον πῦρ ἔμπεσε] νηυσὶν Ἀχαιῶν. Paraphrase 5 As the first part of this set of citations in Plato is a paraphrase, it is natural that it should vary considerable from Homer’s original. In the original, the poet asks the Muses directly “to speak” (ἔσπετε, 112) with the imperative form of the verb, after addressing them in the vocative case. In Plato, the request is less direct, not in the least because Socrates proposes such a prayer to Glaucon as a playful hypothetical, using the subjunctive verb εὐχώμεθα (d8) with the infinitive εἰπεῖν “to speak” (d8). As a result, Plato’s Muses are in the dative case rather than in the vocative as in Homer. In Plato, naturally, as Socrates includes Glaucon in the prayer, the Muses are asked to speak “to us” (ἡμῖν, d8), whereas the singular poet in Homer asks the Muse to speak “to me” (μοι, 112). Finally, the traditional Homeric description of the Muses as those “that have dwellings on Olympus” (Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχουσαι, 112) is left out in Plato, as is frequently the case with Homeric epithets or otherwise ornamental descriptions.33 Quotation 40 1) ὅπως (e1) : ὅππως (113) [Atticism]

33

See esp. Lohse (1965, 279 ff.) on this phenomenon. In this study see Quotation 6, 8, 9, and 37.

468 ὅπως is used in Homer more frequently than ὅππως by a considerable margin,34 ὅππως being a spelling that seems only to appear out of metrical necessity. Of the nineteen times that ὅππως appears in Homer, it is in the first position in a line – where a long is required – eighteen of those times. The lone exception is at Il. 17.144, where likewise a long syllable is needed. Elsewhere in Homer, where a short is required by the meter, ὅπως is used 55 times. Apparently disinterested in preserving the meter of the citation, Plato simply employs the standard Attic spelling, ὅπως. 2) στάσις (e1) : πῦρ (113) [Atticism] The most important and salient change, as discussed in preliminary fashion above in Interpretive Context, is Socrates’ substitution of στάσις for πῦρ. Above we noted how both στάσις and πῦρ are destructive forces in their respective works, and, indeed, are related concepts in the Iliad itself; it is the στάσις created by Achilles, his withdrawal from battle, which serves as the ultimate cause of the firing of the Greeks’ ships. Mitscherling suggests further that Socrates’ substitution here may have philosophical undertones.35 He points out that taken in its ordinary and etymological sense στάσις refers not to a “faction” or “civil war,” but rather is associated with the idea of a “fixed state,” like the Latin loan status quo in English. He argues, then: Plato may have intended the substitution of στάσις to provoke a particular response in his audience. Recalling that πῦρ was the central metaphor of Heraclitus (if indeed it was merely metaphor), and that the Parmenidean alternative was something akin to a cosmic status quo, we might consider the possibility that Plato intended his parody of Homer’s verse to call precisely this conflict to the mind of his audience. Given the reconciliation of Heraclitean and Parmenidean thought achieved in the epistemology and ontology of the Divided Line that Plato elaborated not too much earlier in the Republic (509d–511e), such a recollection would be perfectly in order. 34 35

Howes 1895, 200. Mitscherling 2008, 440-1.

469

Typical of Plato’s use of Homer in the Republic, then, he alters or uses the poet’s original in such a way that suits his own purposes. The net result is the adaptation of a poetic tagline, perfectly suited to its new philosophic purpose. Interpretation In the same way, then, that Socrates cites Homer to frame his discussion of the devolution of different kinds of states, he cites Homer’s proverb about “oak or rock,” to frame his discussion about the origin of political constitutions in the first place. As noted above, his primary reference here is to Od. 19.163 rather than Il. 22.126. The meaning of the phrase in Od. 19 is closer to that of Rep. 544d7-8, allowing Socrates to draw the connection between human personality and political constitution all the better, and there are other parallels in diction as noted above in Textual Differences. Whereas Socrates’ use of the phrase “oak or rock” is proverbial in nature, Plato’s appropriation of Homeric verse in Paraphrase 5 and Quotation 40 is much more complex. These citations include not only a mockery of a traditional poetic trope – the appeal to the Muses – and thus poetic lexis, but also poetic aporesis in general.36 A poet often calls on the Muses to cure or prevent aporesis, particularly when he is on the verge of reciting a particularly critical passage or one especially demanding on his memory, a classic example being Homer’s appeal before The

36

It is also important to point out that in this appeal to a deity, as is the case with all of Socrates’ appeals, there is a distinct absence of what Bowra (1961, 200) calls “The Sanction,” in which reference is made by the devotee to services rendered on the god’s behalf. In this way, Socrates’ invocation is consistent with tupos 1, which holds that the gods cannot be influenced by human prayer (cf. esp. Quotation 8 & Paraphrase 2).

470 Catalogue of Ships.37 Socrates appropriates this traditional poetic trope and even uses it as a poet would (as explained above in Interpretive Context), but the tone of his appeal is irreverent in the extreme. He ridicules the very idea that such an appeal would be made in earnest, calling it childish, giving the hint to his reader that his own Muse-inspired speech should not be taken altogether seriously by anyone: And shall we say that [the Muses] speak to us in tragic tones, as if they were in earnest, playing and jesting with us as if we were children? (Rep.8.545c9-e1-3) In what follows, Socrates mimics, in mock solemnity, the obscurity of a poet or a prophet’s speech,38 but he does so using the language of mathematics, in what may be called “a piece of ‘mythical’ arithmetic.”39 Monro calls Socrates’ language “mock-oracular,” saying it is characterized by “affected obscurity.”40 And while what Socrates says may perhaps represent a tentative, theoretical explanation for how generation and corruption occur in the political sphere, Socrates makes it clear in his introduction to the passage, and in his use of obscure, technical

37

On this function of poetic appeals to the Muses, see Leaf (1900-2, ad. Il. 16.112 ff.) and P. Murray (1981). Among ancient sources, see esp. Il. 1.1 ff. and Vergil Aen. 7.641 ff. The connection of the Muses and Memory is explicit in Greek mythology as in Hesiod Memory is named the mother of the Muses (cf. Theog. 50 ff.), noted also in Plato at Theaet. 191d. 38 With some frequency, Plato uses such a mock-heroic style: Meno 76e; Rep. 3.413b; Tim. 300c; Laws 10.885c. 39 See Monro (1879, 287-8), who further points out here the parallels between Socrates’ use of mathematics and his use of myth elsewhere. Monro also argues persuasively that mathematics is used similarly in the Timaeus: “the whole cosmogony [of the Timaeus], with its elaborate numerical schemes, is expressly said to be only a conjecture or likelihood or piece of mythology.” Unlike the poetic mania which is normally the product of the Muses’ inspiration (cf. Phaedrus 245a and 265b), then, Socrates uses the Muses “to inspire” a speech about political degeneration that is rational in the extreme (albeit still speculative) in that it creates the illusion of certainty and exactitude by using the language of mathematics. 40 See Monro (1879, esp. 286) for specific examples of such “mock oracular” language. The obscurity of the passage, in fact, was nearly proverbial in antiquity, on which point see, e.g., Cicero (Ep. ad Att. 7.13.5).

471 mathematical language in general, that his account is not meant to be taken altogether seriously.41 Socrates includes in his account of political degeneration a rewriting or adaptation of Hesiod’s Myth of the Ages, a myth he had earlier (mis)appropriated in the Noble Lie (cf. Rep. cf. Rep. 3.414b-415d).42 He explains that the state will begin to decline once the Muses are neglected by the citizens: They will begin … to neglect us Muses. First they will have less consideration for music and poetry than they ought … Hence, rulers chosen from among them won’t be able to

41

That is not to say that many scholars, particularly around the turn of the 20th century, have not attempted to reconstruct, with various mixtures of success, the secrets of Plato’s “Nuptial Number,” the majority of them agreeing at least on the Pythagorean aspect that underlies Socrates’ calculations. On such attempts, see esp. Jowett & Campbell (1894), Adam (1902), and Diès (1950). The majority of commentators, however, have acknowledged the joking context of the passage. Adam ([1902] 2010, ad Rep. 545c ff.), who above seriously attempted to calculate the number, still understood the passage as a whole as “half-serious and half-playful.” Monro (1879, 155), however, perhaps still gives the best account of the tone and import of the passage as a whole: Here we come upon the old question, whether Plato is in jest or in earnest … the truth lies in an intermediate view … that the passage is neither a piece of clear and coherent mathematics, nor yet a mere tissue of mathematical jargon … To those who maintain the literal seriousness of the passage I would merely point out that Plato distinctly warns us of the contrary. The Muses are invoked in Homeric fashion, and they answer in a lofty style as if they were speaking seriously, ‘whereas they are playing with us, to tease us, as one might do with children.’ If Plato were stating simple arithmetical facts, in a style free from affectation or obscurity, this prelude would be meaningless and frigid. Yet we may divine that Plato did not regard his Nuptial Number as mere fooling, though he chose to put it forward as such. He believed, apparently, that the fortunes of his State would depend upon some cycle or number; he had made conjectures and partial attempts to discover it; and he wished to put these on record, to show the direction in which he looked for an answer to his problem, and at the same time to warn his readers not to expect the answer from him. For a more modern, yet basically equivalent view see also Reidemeister (1949, 17) and Ehrhardt (1986, esp. 412). In this section of the Republic, Socrates similarly plays with number in his calculation of “The Tyrant’s Number” (cf. Rep. 8.587b), on which point see Greene (1920, 102). 42 Boys-Stones 2010, 1-2, 23-8, 66 n. 84, 176-99, 202, 259-60, 277, 280-3, 298-316.

472 guard well the testing of the golden, silver, bronze, and iron races, which are Hesiod’s and our own. (Rep. 8.546d5-6, d7-547a2)43 Socrates had made it clear earlier at Rep. 3.410d that a beneficial harmony must be struck in his guardians between “savagery” (ἀγριότητός, d1) and “harshness” (σκληρότητος, d1) on the one hand, and “softness” (μαλακίας, d1) and “gentleness” (ἡμερότητος, d2) on the other. Should this balance be weighted towards “the harder elements” from a want of the study of music and poetry, the result, we can assume, will be a “harsh warrior,” rather than a “cowardly warrior” (μαλθακὸν αἰχμητήν, Rep. 3.411b4), a Homeric phrase from Il. 17.588 cited by Socrates at Rep. 3.411b4 (cf. Quotation 2). In this way, education reveals itself as crucial to the maintenance of the ideal state.44 As we read further, we learn that part of the jest of the passage, a passage Monro characterizes as “a piece of playful irony,”45 is that Glaucon and Socrates both identify themselves as the Muses (cf. Rep. 8.546d1). They also interpret the object of the Muses’ inspiration in a novel sense. Instead of viewing them as gods of poetic inspiration, Socrates claims at Rep. 8.548b8-c-1 that philosophy and discussion are the “true Muse” (ἀληθινῆς Μούσης, b8). Thus, in this passage, Socrates not only adopts a poetic trope for his own philosophical purposes, in the process parodying a traditional aspect of poetic lexis, but he also steals the poets’ Muses away from them, making them servants of philosophic discussion rather than poetic inspiration. And so, Socrates implicitly denies the existence of the special bond that exists between poet and god. In the end, the study of philosophy and dialectic becomes the key to maintaining the health of the state (and the individual). 43

Hesiod (Works and Days 109-202). See also Rep. 4.424c, where the neglect of music is also viewed as a cause of political decay. 45 Monro 1879, 286. 44

473

Quotation 41: Plato Rep. 8.547a4-5 (Cf. Plato Sophist 268d2-3; Gorgias 449a7)46 : Homer Il. 6.211; 20.241 Interpretive Context Using Hesiod’s Myth of the Ages to describe the nature of political decay, Socrates borrows a Homeric tagline to conclude his discussion, saying, “civil war (a5), we declare, is always and everywhere ‘of this lineage’ ” (Rep. 8.547a4-5). This half-line appears twice in Homer’s Iliad, in both contexts at the conclusion of a hero recounting his bloodline. In Book 6, it is Glaucus speaking to Diomedes; in Book 20, it is Aeneas to Achilles. Unlike many other Homeric citations in this study, here there does not appear to be any specific reference to the original content (logos) of the Homeric episodes cited. Socrates has simply cited a familiar Homeric tagline suited to his own context. But he does, of course, imitate Homeric lexis. He takes Homer’s reference to the idea of “lineage” in a metaphorical sense, using it to describe the generation or the cause of a thing, a phenomenon, rather than a person. In this way, this citation is quite similar to Quotation 40 and Paraphrase 5 immediately above, where Socrates used Homer’s appeal to the Muses in a very conventional way, albeit there in an ironical, rather than as here in a metaphorical sense. Finally, it is interesting to point out what may be nothing more than coincidence, namely the fact that the tone of Socrates’ use of the tagline is remarkably similar to that of Book 6 of the

46

I do not take the τῆς γενεᾶς αὖ ταύτης from Plato Philebus 66b2 to be a Homeric citation. The noun and pronoun are reversed as compared to Homer and the context of the citation does not seem appropriate for a Homeric citation or poetic citation in general.

474 Iliad. In Plato, Socrates uses the phrase while speaking as a Muse, “playing and jesting [with his listeners] as if with children.” In the same way, in Homer, Aeneas concludes his account of his lineage by saying to Achilles, “But come, no longer let us talk thus like children (νηπύτιοι),” (Il. 20.244, cf. Il. 20.200) urging instead that they come to blows in earnest. Original Context Plato Rep. 8.546d3-a5 ὧν καταστήσουσι μὲν τοὺς ἀρίστους οἱ πρότεροι, ὅμως δὲ ὄντες ἀνάξιοι, εἰς τὰς τῶν πατέρων αὖ δυνάμεις ἐλθόντες, ἡμῶν πρῶτον ἄρξονται ἀμελεῖν φύλακες ὄντες, παρ᾽ ἔλαττον τοῦ δέοντος ἡγησάμενοι τὰ μουσικῆς, δεύτερον δὲ τὰ γυμναστικῆς, ὅθεν ἀμουσότεροι γενήσονται ὑμῖν οἱ νέοι. ἐκ δὲ τούτων ἄρχοντες οὐ πάνυ φυλακικοὶ καταστήσονται πρὸς τὸ δοκιμάζειν τὰ Ἡσιόδου τε καὶ τὰ παρ᾽ ὑμῖν γένη, χρυσοῦν τε καὶ ἀργυροῦν καὶ χαλκοῦν καὶ σιδηροῦν· ὁμοῦ δὲ μιγέντος σιδηροῦ ἀργυρῷ καὶ χαλκοῦ χρυσῷ ἀνομοιότης ἐγγενήσεται καὶ ἀνωμαλία ἀνάρμοστος, ἃ γενόμενα, οὗ ἂν ἐγγένηται, ἀεὶ τίκτει πόλεμον καὶ ἔχθραν. [ταύτης τοι γενεῆς] χρὴ φάναι εἶναι στάσιν, ὅπου ἂν γίγνηται ἀεί.

5

e 547

5

[Socrates (as Muse):] “The older generation will choose the best of these children but they are unworthy nevertheless, and when they acquire their fathers’ powers, they will begin, as guardians, to neglect us (Muses). First, they will have less consideration for music and poetry than they ought, then they will neglect physical training, so that your young people will become less well educated in music and poetry. Hence, rulers from among them won’t be able to guard well the testing of the golden, silver, bronze, and iron races, which are Hesiod’s and your own. The intermixing of iron with silver and bronze with gold that results will engender lack of likeness and unharmonious inequality, and these always breed war and hostility wherever they arise. Civil war, we declare, is always and everywhere [‘of this lineage. ’]” Homer Il. 6.206-211 Ἱππόλοχος δέ μ᾽ ἔτικτε, καὶ ἐκ τοῦ φημι γενέσθαι· πέμπε δέ μ᾽ ἐς Τροίην, καί μοι μάλα πόλλ᾽ ἐπέτελλεν αἰὲν ἀριστεύειν καὶ ὑπείροχον ἔμμεναι ἄλλων, μηδὲ γένος πατέρων αἰσχυνέμεν, οἳ μέγ᾽ ἄριστοι ἔν τ᾽ Ἐφύρῃ ἐγένοντο καὶ ἐν Λυκίῃ εὐρείῃ. [ταύτης τοι γενεῆς] τε καὶ αἵματος εὔχομαι εἶναι.

210

475 [Glaucus to Diomedes:] “But Hippolochus begat me and of him do I declare that I am sprung; and he sent me to Troy and straitly charged me ever to be bravest and pre-eminent above all, and not bring shame upon the race of my fathers, that were far the noblest in Ephyre and in wide Lycia. I avow myself to be [of this lineage] and blood.” Homer Il. 20.240-241 αὐτὰρ ἔμ᾽ Ἀγχίσης, Πρίαμος δ᾽ ἔτεχ᾽ Ἕκτορα δῖον. [ταύτης τοι γενεῆς] τε καὶ αἵματος εὔχομαι εἶναι.

240

[Aeneas to Achilles:] “But Anchises begat me and Priam goodly Hector. I avow myself to be [of this lineage] and blood.” Cross-References In the Sophist, the Visitor uses Homer’s phrase “of this lineage,” quoting it more fully to include “and of this blood” as well (cf. Soph. 268b1d2-3), to conclude his account of his definition of a sophist. As above, the use of the Homeric line is thoroughly conventional. Whereas in Homer the line is uttered by a hero at the conclusion of his account of his own noble heritage, in Plato, the line refers not to the generation or definition of an individual, but of a class: the Sophists. In the Sophist, Plato’s text differs from Homer more dramatically than in the Republic. In the Sophist, Homer’s τοι is changed to the article τῆς, to agree with γενεᾶς, which itself is an Atticism for Homer’s γενεῆς. Either or both of these changes could be due to a copyist who knew the phrase in Plato was a Homeric citation, or, as Labarbe proposes, the influence of the prose structure of Plato’s own sentence, which is longer than that in the Republic: “la prose imposait plus facilement sa tonalité dans le premier cas que dans le second.”47 Plato Sophist 268b11-d4 Τὸ μέν που σοφὸν ἀδύνατον, ἐπείπερ οὐκ εἰδότα αὐτὸν ἔθεμεν· μιμητὴς δ᾽ ὢν τοῦ σοφοῦ δῆλον ὅτι παρωνύμιον αὐτοῦ τι λήψεται, καὶ σχεδὸν ἤδη μεμάθηκα ὅτι 47

Labarbe 1949, 325.

c

476 τοῦτον δεῖ προσειπεῖν ἀληθῶς αὐτὸν ἐκεῖνον τὸν παντάπασιν ὄντως σοφιστήν. Οὐκοῦν συνδήσομεν αὐτοῦ, καθάπερ ἔμπροσθεν, τοὔνομα συμπλέξαντες ἀπὸ τελευτῆς ἐπ᾽ ἀρχήν; Πάνυ μὲν οὖν. Τὸ δὴ τῆς ἐναντιοποιολογικῆς εἰρωνικοῦ μέρους τῆς δοξαστικῆς μιμητικόν, τοῦ φανταστικοῦ γένους ἀπὸ τῆς εἰδωλοποιικῆς οὐ θεῖον ἀλλ᾽ ἀνθρωπικὸν τῆς ποιήσεως ἀφωρισμένον ἐν λόγοις τὸ θαυματοποιικὸν μόριον, [“ταύτης τῆς γενεᾶς] τε καὶ αἵματος” ὃς ἂν φῇ τὸν ὄντως σοφιστὴν εἶναι, τἀληθέστατα, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἐρεῖ.

5

d

[Theaetetus:] “We can’t call him wise, since we took him not to know anything. But since he imitates the wise man he’ll obviously have a name derived from the wise man’s name. And now at last I see that we have to call him the person who is really and truly a sophist.” [Visitor:] “Shall we weave his name together from start to finish and tie it up the way we did before?” “Of course.” “Imitation of the contrary-speech-producing, insincere and unknowing sort, of the appearance-making kind of copy-making, the word-juggling part of production that’s marked off as human and not divine. Anyone who says the sophist is [‘of this lineage] and blood’ will be saying, it seems, the complete truth.” In the Gorgias, after Socrates presses first Polus and then Gorgias to define his art, Gorgias replies, “oratory” (ῥητορικῆς, 449a5).48 He then quotes from Homer, saying an orator is what “I avow myself to be,” (εὔχομαι εἶναι, 449a5) part of the full line in Homer quoted above in the Republic and the Sophist: “I avow myself to be of this lineage and blood.” As above, the Homeric line is used in a thoroughly conventional dramatic setting. Like Glaucus or Aeneas, who feel obliged to defend themselves from their opponents’ verbal attacks by citing their noble heritage, Gorgias similarly defines himself, quite proudly as Gonzalez Lodge suggests, not unlike a Homeric hero: “the self-satisfaction of Gorgias is so great that he speaks like a Homeric

48

This happens to be the first occurrence of the adjective ῥητορικός in Greek literature.

477 hero.”49 Unlike a Homeric hero, however, he defines himself by means of what he does, his excellence in a skill, rather than in terms of his birth. Throughout the Gorgias, the manly, warrior-like nature of the public orator will be a central theme, developed particularly through the figure of Callicles, who contrasts the andreia of the orator with the childishness and effeminacy of the philosopher.50 In this way, Gorgias’ citation of Homer here, his implicit identification of himself as a Homeric hero, sets the tone for much of the content of the rest of the dialogue, where the values of rhetoric are contrasted with those of philosophy. Plato Gorgias 449a1-8 ... εἰπὲ τίς ἡ τέχνη καὶ τίνα Γοργίαν καλεῖν χρὴ ἡμᾶς. μᾶλλον δέ, ὦ Γοργία, αὐτὸς ἡμῖν εἰπὲ τίνα σε χρὴ καλεῖν ὡς τίνος ἐπιστήμονα τέχνης. Τῆς ῥητορικῆς, ὦ Σώκρατες. Ῥήτορα ἄρα χρή σε καλεῖν; Ἀγαθόν γε, ὦ Σώκρατες, εἰ δὴ ὅ γε [εὔχομαι εἶναι,] ὡς ἔφη Ὅμηρος, βούλει με καλεῖν.

449

5

[Socrates:] “Tell us now in what way, too, what his craft is, and what we’re supposed to call Gorgias. Or rather, Gorgias, why don’t you tell us yourself what the craft you’re knowledgeable in is, and hence what we’re supposed to call you?” [Gorgias:] “It’s oratory, Socrates.” “So we’re supposed to call you an orator?” “Yes, and a good one, Socrates, if you really want to call me what [‘I avow myself to be,’] as Homer puts it.” Texts Plato Rep. 8.546a4-5 … [ταύτης τοι 49

Lodge 1891, ad loc. See also Plochmann (1988, 14), who makes the same point and notes in addition that Gorgias’ skillful citation of Homer serves to mark him out as a cultivated man, an aspect of Homeric citation commented on at length in both Tarrant (1951) and Halliwell (2000). 50 See esp. Gorg. 482b-c and 484d for Callicles’ contrast of the manly life of the rhetorician with that of the philosopher. See also Hobbs (2000, 1, 140-2, 153) and Benardete ([1991] 2009, 678). On the philosopher as childish, see Gorg. 484d and 485a-c.

478 γενεῆς] χρὴ φάναι εἶναι στάσιν ...

5

a5 γενεῆς] γενεῆς Proclus : γενεᾶς A F D M Homer Il. 6.211 (= Il. 20.241) [ταύτης τοι γενεῆς] τε καὶ αἵματος εὔχομαι εἶναι. Textual Differences 1) γενεῆς (γενεᾶς) (a5) : γενεῆς (211/241) [(Atticism)] While the reading γενεᾶς is the unanimous reading of the Platonic MSS. A, F, D, and M, editors have adopted instead the Homeric form γενεῆς. Perhaps they have considered γενεᾶς to be a scribal error, as Labarbe does.51 Yet, it seems imprudent to argue against the manuscripts, especially when F, which seems typically to be corrected to agree with Homer,52 exhibits the Atticism γενεᾶς. At any rate, given the shortness of the citation, it is certainly reasonable to assume that Plato simply adapts Homer’s text to his own dialect. Interpretation As is the case with the citations immediately above and the cross-references noted in this citation, Plato shows himself to be a writer with a mastery of the Homeric form. He imbeds a Homeric quotation naturally into the flow of his own prose, yet does so with the conventionality befitting a poet.

51

Labarbe 1949, 324-5. Lohse 1965, 278. On this same point, see also Labarbe (1949, 166, 176). In this study, see Quotation 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, and 37. 52

479 Quotation 42: Plato Rep. 3.393a4-5 : Homer Il. 1.15-16 (Cf. Homer Il. 1.374-375) Allusion 38: Plato Rep. 3.392e3-4, 393a7-b2 : Homer Il. 1.15-21 Allusion 39: Plato Rep. 3.392e4 : Homer Il. 1.24-32 & Allusion 40: Plato Rep. 3.392e4-393a1, 393a7-b2 : Homer Il. 1.35-42 Interpretive Context In the Republic, Socrates has just concluded his treatment of the content (logos) of the poets’ stories and now will turn his discussion to their style (lexis). He argues that such a two-sided investigation will allow him and Glaucon to determine both “what should be said [by the poets] and how it should be said” (ἅ τε λεκτέον καὶ ὡς λεκτέον, Rep. 3.392c7-8). His initial interest in poetic lexis here concerns narrative style. Socrates defines the boundaries of narration as follows: “Isn’t everything said by poets and storytellers a narrative about past, present, or future events,” (ἆρ᾽ οὐ πάντα ὅσα ὑπὸ μυθολόγων ἢ ποιητῶν λέγεται διήγησις οὖσα τυγχάνει ἢ γεγονότων ἢ ὄντων ἢ μελλόντων, Rep. 3.392d2-3) a phrase, as Murray suggests, perhaps reminiscent of Hesiod’s description of the Muses’ narrative range (τά τ᾽ ἐόντα τά τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα, Th. 38) or, to cite a phrase in Homer identical to that in Hesiod, the seer Calchas’ understanding of “things that were, and that were to be, and that had been before” (τά τ᾽ ἐόντα τά τ᾽ ἐσσόμενα πρό τ᾽ ἐόντα, Il. 1.70).53 Specifically, Socrates is interested here in discussing the extent to which mimesis is employed in a poet’s narrative lexis. 53

P. Murray [1996] 2007, ad. loc. I have not taken this passage to be a poetic citation of any sort. I think conceptually the language of Plato is reminiscent of Hesiod and Homer, but I do not think we can draw any more conclusions from this. It is, of course, provocative to suggest that in defining narration in such a way, Plato is connecting that art of the poet to that of the Muses or the seer, but other passages using similar language in Plato and elsewhere eliminate the likelihood of such a possibility. Consider, for example, Rep. 9.572a3, where Socrates describes a

480 Initially, Adeimantus does not understand the distinction that Socrates makes in respect to “simple narration,” (ἁπλή διήγησις where “the poet himself is speaking and doesn’t attempt to get us to think that [it is] anyone but himself” (Rep. 3.393a6-7) and “mimetic narration” (διὰ μιμήσεως διήγησις), where the poet speaks as if he is a particular character. Socrates, thus, decides that he will make his meaning clear by way of example. Thus, he shows how Homer, in the beginning of the Iliad, uses a third type of narrative style, a mixed style of narration; he points out that while Homer uses “simple narration” in the very beginning of the poem, thereafter he regularly employs “mimetic narration,” speaking as if he were the characters in the poem themselves. Socrates uses the example of Chryses’ supplication in the very beginning of the Iliad, arguing that Homer “tries as far as possible to make us think that the speaker isn’t [him] but the priest himself – an old man” (Rep. 3.393a8-b2). To make the distinction between narrative styles even clearer, Socrates both quotes from Il. 1.15-16 and makes various allusions to the opening action of the epic where the “simple” and “mimetic” styles of narration are contrasted. As the citations Socrates makes in this section of the Republic come from the very beginning of the Iliad, they are naturally some of the most easily identified in the entire text. Yet, to employ irony and perhaps even to poke fun at Adeimantus’ inability to discern the

healthy and moderate man as one whose appetites do not interfere with the mind’s investigation of things “whether past, present, or future.” (ἤ τι τῶν γεγονότων ἢ ὄντων ἢ καὶ μελλόντων). Likewise, at Sophist 262d2-3, the Stranger defines the simplest kind of sentence as that which weaves a noun together with a verb, as this gives an indication “about what is, or comes to be, or has come to be, or is going to be” (περὶ τῶν ὄντων ἢ γιγνομένων ἢ γεγονότων ἢ μελλόντων).

481 distinction he is making about narrative style,54 Socrates asks Adeimantus, “Tell me, do you know the beginning of the Iliad?” (Rep. 3.392e2). Socrates, then, alludes to the events that set the entire action of the epic in motion, events that would be no less obvious to a Greek of Plato’s day than to practically any cultured person since then:55 Chryses’ begging of Agamemnon for the return of his daughter (Allusion 38), Agamemnon’s harsh rejection of the priest (Allusion 39), and Chryses’ prayer to the god Apollo to punish the Greeks. Following these allusions, Socrates quotes what he claims are the final lines in the Iliad that are in the style of a “simple narration.” Thereafter he makes the exaggerated assertion that “pretty well all the rest of [Homer’s] narrative about events in Troy, Ithaca, and the whole Odyssey [are narrated in a mimetic style]” (Rep. 3.392b2-5).56 Below, under Interpretation for Paraphrase 6, we shall investigate fully Socrates’ reasons for taking issue with the “mimetic” style of narration generally, and Homer’s mixed style specifically. Original Context Plato Rep. 3.392e2-393b5 καί μοι εἰπέ·57 ἐπίστασαι τῆς Ἰλιάδος τὰ πρῶτα, ἐν οἷς ὁ ποιητής φησι [(38) τὸν μὲν Χρύσην δεῖσθαι τοῦ Ἀγαμέμνονος ἀπολῦσαι τὴν θυγατέρα,] [(39) τὸν δὲ χαλεπαίνειν,] [(40) τὸν δέ, ἐπειδὴ οὐκ ἐτύγχανεν, κατεύχεσθαι τῶν Ἀχαιῶν πρὸς τὸν θεόν;] 393 Ἔγωγε. Οἶσθ’ οὖν ὅτι μέχρι μὲν τούτων τῶν ἐπῶν-54

It has also been argued by Cohn (2000, 34), among others, that Adeimantus is unable to follow Socrates’ argument as he has introduced a completely novel way of examining literature. On this point, see esp. P. Murray ([1996] 2007, ad. 394c5). 55 On this choice of passage, P. Murray ([1996] 2007, 19) writes: “It is not by chance that P. chooses a passage from the beginning of the Iliad to illustrate what he means by mimesis … since this is a text that every schoolboy knew.” 56 See Mitscherling (2008, 429) on this point. 57 We must wonder if this phrase μοι εἰπέ is not a subtle reference to Homer’s appeal to the Muses to recall the beginning of his own stories, as Socrates does here, specifically the appeal of Od. 1.1: μοι ἔννεπε.

482 [(42) καὶ ἐλίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρείδα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν] 5 λέγει τε αὐτὸς ὁ ποιητὴς καὶ οὐδὲ ἐπιχειρεῖ ἡμῶν τὴν διάνοιαν ἄλλοσε τρέπειν ὡς ἄλλος τις ὁ λέγων ἢ αὐτός· [(38/40) τὰ δὲ μετὰ ταῦτα ὥσπερ αὐτὸς ὢν ὁ Χρύσης λέγει καὶ πειρᾶται b ἡμᾶς ὅτι μάλιστα ποιῆσαι μὴ Ὅμηρον δοκεῖν εἶναι τὸν 58 λέγοντα ἀλλὰ τὸν ἱερέα, πρεσβύτην ὄντα.] καὶ τὴν ἄλλην δὴ πᾶσαν σχεδόν τι οὕτω πεποίηται διήγησιν περί τε τῶν ἐν Ἰλίῳ καὶ περὶ τῶν ἐν Ἰθάκῃ καὶ ὅλῃ Ὀδυσσείᾳ παθημάτων. 5 [Socrates:] “Tell me, do you know the beginning of the Iliad, where the poet tells us that [(38) Chryses begs Agamemnon to release his daughter,] [(39) that Agamemnon harshly rejects him,] [(40) and that, having failed, Chryses prays to the god against the Achaeans?”] [Adeimantus:] “I do.” “You know, then, that up to the lines: [(42) ‘And he implored all the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, the marshallers of the people.’] the poet himself is speaking and doesn’t attempt to get us to think that the speaker is someone other than himself. [(38/40) After this, however, he speaks as if he were Chryses and tries as far as possible to make us think that the speaker isn’t Homer but the priest himself – an old man.] And he composes pretty well all the rest of his narrative about events in Troy, Ithaca, and the whole Odyssey in this way.” Homer Il. 1.11-43 … τὸν Χρύσην ἠτίμασεν ἀρητῆρα Ἀτρεί̈δης· ὃ γὰρ ἦλθε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν λυσόμενός τε θύγατρα φέρων τ’ ἀπερείσι’ ἄποινα, στέμματ’ ἔχων ἐν χερσὶν ἑκηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος χρυσέῳ ἀνὰ σκήπτρῳ, [(38) ((42) καὶ λίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρεί̈δα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν·) Ἀτρεί̈δαι τε καὶ ἄλλοι ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοί, ὑμῖν μὲν θεοὶ δοῖεν Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχοντες ἐκπέρσαι Πριάμοιο πόλιν, εὖ δ’ οἴκαδ’ ἱκέσθαι· παῖδα δ’ ἐμοὶ λύσαιτε φίλην, τὰ δ’ ἄποινα δέχεσθαι, ἁζόμενοι Διὸς υἱὸν ἑκηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα.] ἔνθ᾽ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἐπευφήμησαν Ἀχαιοὶ αἰδεῖσθαί θ᾽ ἱερῆα καὶ ἀγλαὰ δέχθαι ἄποινα· [(39) ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ Ἀτρεΐδῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι ἥνδανε θυμῷ, 58

15

20

This dual allusion, which refers generally to the idea that Homer adopts the speech of Chryses, does not comprise all of the lines of Allusions 38 and 40, but only those featuring direct speech, namely Il. 1.17-21, 37-42.

483 ἀλλὰ κακῶς ἀφίει, κρατερὸν δ᾽ ἐπὶ μῦθον ἔτελλε· μή σε γέρον κοίλῃσιν ἐγὼ παρὰ νηυσὶ κιχείω ἢ νῦν δηθύνοντ᾽ ἢ ὕστερον αὖτις ἰόντα, μή νύ τοι οὐ χραίσμῃ σκῆπτρον καὶ στέμμα θεοῖο· τὴν δ᾽ ἐγὼ οὐ λύσω· πρίν μιν καὶ γῆρας ἔπεισιν ἡμετέρῳ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ ἐν Ἄργεϊ τηλόθι πάτρης ἱστὸν ἐποιχομένην καὶ ἐμὸν λέχος ἀντιόωσαν· ἀλλ᾽ ἴθι μή μ᾽ ἐρέθιζε σαώτερος ὥς κε νέηαι.] ὣς ἔφατ᾽, ἔδεισεν δ᾽ ὃ γέρων καὶ ἐπείθετο μύθῳ· βῆ δ᾽ ἀκέων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης· πολλὰ δ᾽ ἔπειτ᾽ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν [(40) ἠρᾶθ᾽ ὃ γεραιὸς Ἀπόλλωνι ἄνακτι, τὸν ἠΰκομος τέκε Λητώ· κλῦθί μευ ἀργυρότοξ᾽, ὃς Χρύσην ἀμφιβέβηκας Κίλλάν τε ζαθέην Τενέδοιό τε ἶφι ἀνάσσεις, Σμινθεῦ εἴ ποτέ τοι χαρίεντ᾽ ἐπὶ νηὸν ἔρεψα, ἢ εἰ δή ποτέ τοι κατὰ πίονα μηρί᾽ ἔκηα ταύρων ἠδ᾽ αἰγῶν, τὸ δέ μοι κρήηνον ἐέλδωρ· τίσειαν Δαναοὶ ἐμὰ δάκρυα σοῖσι βέλεσσιν.] ὣς ἔφατ᾽ εὐχόμενος, τοῦ δ᾽ ἔκλυε Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων

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The son of Atreus had wrought dishonor upon the priest Chryses. For he had come to the swift ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, bearing ransom past counting; and in his hands he held the wreaths of Apollo who strikes from afar, on a staff of gold; [38 [(42) and he implored all the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, the marshallers of the people:] “Sons of Atreus, and other well-greaved Achaeans, to you may the gods who have homes upon Olympus grant that you sack the city of Priam, and return safe to your homes; but my dear child release to me, and accept the ransom out of reverence for the son of Zeus, Apollo who strikes from afar.”] Then all the rest of the Achaeans shouted assent, to reverence the priest and accept the glorious ransom, [(39) yet the thing did not please the heart of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, but he sent him away harshly, and laid upon him a stern command: “Let me not find you, old man, by the hollow ships, either tarrying now or coming back later, lest your staff and the wreath of the god not protect you. Her I will not set free. Sooner shall old age come upon her in our house, in Argos, far from her native land, as she walks to and fro before the loom and serves my bed. But go, do not anger me, that you may return the safer.”] So he spoke, and the old man was seized with fear and obeyed his word. He went forth in silence along the shore of the loud-resounding sea, and earnestly then, when he had gone apart, [(40) the old man prayed to the lord Apollo, whom fair-haired Leto bore: “Hear me, god of the silver bow, who stand over Chryse and holy Cilla, and rule mightily over Tenedos, Sminthian god, if ever I roofed over a temple to your pleasing, or if ever I burned to you fat thigh-pieces of bulls and goats, fulfill this prayer for me: let the Danaans pay for my tears by your arrows”] So he spoke in prayer, and Phoebus Apollo heard him.

484 Cross-Reference While the lines that Socrates quotes appear at both Il. 1.15-16 and here at Il. 1.374-375, it is clear that he means for his listeners to recall the former set of lines, given that the rest of the passage contains allusions to the very beginning of the epic. In the passage below, Achilles summarizes for Thetis the basic events and arguments that have set the action of the epic in motion thus far. The repetitive nature of this entire section of the epic caused Aristarchus to athetize Il. 1.366392. Homer Il. 1.370-375 Χρύσης δ᾽ αὖθ᾽ ἱερεὺς ἑκατηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος ἦλθε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν χαλκοχιτώνων λυσόμενός τε θύγατρα φέρων τ᾽ ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα, στέμματ᾽ ἔχων ἐν χερσὶν ἑκηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος χρυσέῳ ἀνὰ σκήπτρῳ, [καὶ λίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρεί̈δα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν.]

370

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However, Chryses, priest of Apollo, who strikes from afar, came to the swift ships of the bronzeclad Achaeans, to free his daughter, bearing ransom past counting, and in his hands he held the wreaths of Apollo who strikes from afar, on a staff of gold; [and he implored all the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, the marshallers of the people.] Texts Plato Rep. 3.393a4-5 [καὶ ἐλίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρείδα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν] Homer Il. 1.15-16 (= Il. 1.374-375) [καὶ λίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρεί̈δα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν·] λίσσετο] λίσσετο Ar. A T : ἐλίσσετο vulg. (uv.), L15 M13 P15, Bm8 P13 ss. Textual Differences

5

15 Ἀτρεί̈δα] Ἀτρείδας Zen.

485 Quotation 42 1) ἐλίσσετο (a4) : λίσσετο (15) [Modern Editorial Error] As it is printed in modern editions, Plato’s text (ἐλίσσετο) does not agree with Homer’s (λίσσετο). The critical apparatus for Homer’s text, however, notes that the vulgate text of Homer reads ἐλίσσετο with Plato. Modern editors have rejected this vulgate reading, however, seemingly for reasons of orthography. As Leaf puts it,59 “λίσσετο is preferable to ἐλίσσετο, as it is very rare to find a vowel left short before the first letter of this word.” He himself notes a clear violation of this principle, however, at Il. 16.46. Further, while λίσσομαι, when it is augmented in Homer (as in ἐλίσσετο), typically features an additional lambda (cf. Il. 9.585 (ἐλλίσσονθ’), 12.49 (ἐλλίσσεθ’), 21.71 (ἐλλίσσετο), and Od. 10.264 (ἐλλίσσετο)), this general rule does not always hold true, as in, for example, Il. 6.45 (ἐλίσσετο). Thus, while ἐλίσσετο is certainly a problematic reading in some respects, modern editors have focused too much on matters of orthography, while ignoring important evidence from the secondary tradition. Plato’s agreement with Homer’s vulgate here surely provides compelling evidence in favor of ἐλίσσετο in Homer. Thus, while in modern editions, the texts of Plato and Homer do not agree, this was not necessarily the case in antiquity. 2) Ἀτρείδα (a5) : Ἀτρεί̈δα (15) [Modern Arbitrary Editorial Decision] The difference between the two texts here is only the result of modern editorial practice, namely the use of diacritical marks. With that said, given that Socrates is already in the midst of a Homeric quotation, the modern text should retain the Homeric pronunciation, Ἀτρεί̈δα. Allusions 38-40 59

Leaf 1900-2, ad loc.

486 All of the allusions that Socrates makes to Homer’s text are clear enough, though he does tend to use language quite distinct from that of Homer. In particular, as we shall see in Paraphrase 6 immediately below, Socrates’ language is extremely straightforward and economical, as compared to the ornate expansiveness of the epic style. In Allusion 38, for example, Socrates names Agamemnon directly (cf. Ἀγαμέμνονος, e3), but Homer refers to him with patronyms (cf. Ἀτρεί̈δα, 16; Ἀτρεί̈δαι, 17). While in Homer, Chryses requests that his child be released (cf. παῖδα, 20), in Plato it is more specifically his daughter (cf. θυγατέρα, e4). Finally, Plato’s Chryses “asks” (cf. δεῖσθαι, e3), rather than “begs” or “prays” (cf. λίσσετο, 15); in both passages, however, the verb “to release” is similar (cf. ἀπολῦσαι, e4 and λύσαιτε, 20). In Allusion 39, we see quite clearly the economy of Socrates’ appropriation of Homer, as he states Agamemnon’s rejection of Chryses in three words versus the 70 of Homer’s original. Socrates’ brevitas will be on display once again in startling fashion in Paraphrase 6 immediately below. Likewise, in Allusion 40, Socrates simply refers to Apollo, as is typical elsewhere in the Platonic corpus, as τὸν θεόν (393a1). In contrast, Homer uses an elaborate seven-line evocation prior to Chryses’ curse. Socrates makes other striking changes to Homer’s vocabulary. In respect to Chryses, Socrates, like Homer, calls him “a priest,” but uses the word ἱερέα (b2) in contrast to Homer’s ἀρητῆρα (11). In the same way, both writers refer to him as an old man, in Plato as a πρεσβύτην (b2), in Homer as a γεραιὸς (35). It should be noted that most of the differences in Homer and Plato’s text in the allusions above are natural enough. An allusion by nature is not a verbatim account of another author’s

487 words. The majority of the differences in Socrates versus Homer’s language arise from dialectic and stylistic differences, especially Socrates’ disinterest in ornamentation for its own sake.60 Interpretation Having begun to make clear to Adeimantus the distinction he is making in respect to narrative lexis, Socrates begins to take yet more liberties with Homer. Before even discussing whether mimesis is a danger or not, he rewrites Homer in the citation to follow, removing mimesis altogether. While the dramatic purpose of such a rewriting is innocuous enough – Socrates as εἴρων, as the “ridiculously unclear teacher” (Rep. 3.392d8) he claims himself to be,61 is simply making his lesson abundantly clear to his (slow-witted) pupil, Adeimantus – its philosophic purpose is quite the opposite. Socrates is removing from Homer what he views as harmful – mimesis – and in the process destroying the seductive appeal of the Homeric lexis and perhaps, as Naddaff suggests in the introductory quotation immediately below, engaging in a contest of poetic sophia with Homer.62

60

See, e.g., Lohse (1965, 281) on Plato’s tendency to avoid unnecessary adjectives in his Homeric citations. 61 See Naddaff (2002, 55-6) for a defense of an ironic reading of Socrates’ comment here. 62 For more on Plato’s rivalry with the poets, see also Rutherford (1995, esp. 237).

488 2. Socrates’ Iliad

Socrates’ treatment of, his approach and attitude toward, Homer’s poetry corresponds to that of a competitive poet. Whenever Socrates censors and rewrites Homer’s poetry, he appropriates the agonistic poetic techniques to defeat Homer as the prizewinning poet. The poetry that Socrates advances as the new ideal model for the new-style poet emulates, contradicts, corrects, and modifies – in sum, rivals -- the dangerously unethical and unbalanced tales of Homer. (Ramona Naddaff Exiling the Poets: The Production of Censorship in Plato’s Republic 62)

Paraphrase 6: Plato Rep. 3.393d3-5, d8-394a7 : Homer Il. 1.12-42 Interpretive Context In this paraphrase, then, Socrates in striking fashion offers a wholesale revision of the Iliad. He demonstrates what the Iliad would be like, if “[Homer] never hid himself” (Rep. 3.393c11), that is, if he completely eschewed mimesis – here meaning, “impersonation.” While he pretends, as above, that his “new” version of Homer without mimesis merely has an immediate pedagogic purpose, “in order to prevent [Adeimantus] from saying again that [he] do[es]n’t understand” (Rep. 3.393d2) what simple narrative is, Socrates uses this opportunity to revise Homer philosophically, in the process, stripping poetry of all the advantages over philosophy that it normally enjoys in terms of beauty and style.63

63

On this point, see esp. Naddaff (2002, 58).

489 Indeed, Socrates returns to this idea of “stripping” poetry later in Book 10, in a passage instructive for our purposes here.64 He argues that if one were “to strip” (cf. Rep. 10.601a-b, esp. γυμνωθέντα, b2) the “natural charm”65 away from the poet’s lexis, such things as his meter, rhythm, and harmony (cf. Rep. 10.610a8: μέτρῳ καὶ ῥυθμῷ καὶ ἁρμονίᾳ), the very things that Socrates will eliminate from Homer’s verse below, the result is homely indeed:66 if you strip a poet’s works of the musical colorings, and take them by themselves ... they resemble the faces of young boys who are neither fine nor beautiful after the bloom of youth has left them. What we are left with, then, after Socrates rewrites the opening of the Iliad is, as Naddaff puts it, but a “shell of a poem.”67 Socrates removes from Homer all of the emotional excitement of the original: the pity, fear, and anger. Socrates dispassionately records the bare bones of the narrative, and the audience is left with nothing on which to feast their emotions. Thus, in the same way that Socrates cleansed his city-in-speech after the introduction of luxuries (cf. Rep. 2.372e ff.), here especially, in Book 3, Socrates will work to cleanse Homer’s style of that which appeals to emotion rather than reason.68 In the end, we are left with what

64

Naddaff (2002, 63), following Halliwell (1988, ad 601b2), also pairs these passages together. Halliwell points out, in addition, that the practice of rewriting poetry and prose may have been employed in Greek (we may assume, rhetorical) education. He cites Gorg. 502c and Isoc. 9.1011 in support of this idea. 65 Rep. 10.601b1: οὕτω φύσει αὐτὰ ταῦτα μεγάλην τινὰ κήλησιν ἔχειν. 66 Rep. 10.601b2-3, 6-7. 67 Naddaff 2002, 58. It is worth comparing the process of stripping poetry to the process of stripping away the external attributes of the good man. To understand “justice itself,” Socrates works “to strip” him of everything but justice itself, without any of the good consequences that normally attend the just life (cf. Rep. 2.361c; Gorgias 523c-525a). 68 It is important to point out here as Russell (1981, 155) does that in Plato’s day epic poetry was still performed in a highly dramatic way, “with the poet and rhapsode … becom[ing] each character in turn,” in such a way as to arouse the emotions of the audience. On the importance and effect of the “theatricality” of poetry, see also Ferrari (1989, 114).

490 Labarbe refers to as, “une ‘belle infidel’.”69 We shall fully discuss below, then, under Interpretation, why Socrates argues against the use of mimesis in narration in the first place. I delay this discussion in the same way as Socrates himself, who first shows what Homer is like without mimetic narrative and then only later points out why mimetic narrative is undesirable. As Socrates prepares his pseudo-rhapsodic performance of Homer, then, he remains as ever the εἴρων. He claims that he will “speak without meter” as he is “no poet.” (φράσω δὲ ἄνευ μέτρου· οὐ γὰρ εἰμι ποιητικός, Rep. 3.393d7). Not only does Socrates, as is his practice, claim to lack knowledge, or in this case a specific skill, but he also defines himself: he is no poet precisely because he is a philosopher. Naddaff reads the irony of Socrates’ statement as follows:70 Neither poet, nor rhapsodist, nor sophist, I do not delight and dazzle with my logoi. They are not empty, false, and lying signifiers designed for persuasive and easy victories over audiences, to curry their favor and increase their pleasure. I do not pretend to be wise, sophos; my knowledge is limited. As many scholars have pointed out,71 it is difficult to read Socrates’ arguments against mimetic narrative without realizing that in the very process Socrates himself is, in effect, operating in a mimetic mode by impersonating Homer. At the same time, the author Plato is employing mimesis as well. Not only this dialogue, but a great many of Plato’s dialogues, consist in nothing other than him “hiding” behind the words of other characters, assuming their identities. But

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Labarbe 1949, 359. Naddaff 2002, 55. 71 Among them, Halliwell (2009, 36) is the most recent: “The relationship between Socrates’ arguments and the nature of the work in which they occur is a problem for any reflective reader of the Republic.” 70

491 before we allege hypocrisy of Plato (or of the character Socrates), we ought to consider the irony of the situation, in this case an irony which is two-fold, both Socratic and Platonic. In the case of Socrates, he employs his mimesis in a most unpoetic manner. That is to say, he does not “hide himself” like a poet. He remains utterly visible even as he adopts the words of Homer. As G. R. F. Ferrari puts it:72 Socrates does not experience any alteration, any change in his voice, in his ethos – ‘he can speak in no way other than his own...’ even down to the fact that he employs no meter in his Homeric verse, as ‘he is no poet’ himself.” Unlike Homer who becomes Chryses when he imitates him, Socrates imitates Homer while remaining in his own persona. He makes no attempt to speak in any other style than his own. He does not identify himself with the poet, and unlike a poet, he makes no effort to inspire or incite emotions. Socrates’ ironic use of mimesis works in another way as well, a way that is also nonpoetic. When Socrates takes on the guise of Homer, when he imitates him (ironically) to eliminate mimesis from Homer’s verse, he does not do so faithfully. Socrates performs Homer in a way unlike any other rhapsode before or after. Unlike Homer, who speaks as if he is Chryses and does so to liven up his narrative, to move his audience’s emotions more effectively, to enrich their pleasure in his story-telling, in the Republic we never forget that it is Socrates who is speaking. Indeed, in a way, Socrates fails as an imitator. Yet he fails (or does not really attempt to participate) in an art which he is criticizing. Recall his pronouncements against the master imitator.73 He changes Homer’s text so that it is nothing like the original, so that it is essentially

72 73

Ferrari 1989, 115. Rep. 3.398a-b.

492 unrecognizable; but he takes on this revision of Homer so that he can change the original so that it is in accord with philosophic aims and aesthetics, so that it acts as a means to encourage rather than dissolve psychic and social harmony. In the end, Socrates uses his imitation to teach, to encourage the cultivation of the rational element of the soul. Unlike Homer, or some other rhapsode, the pleasure and emotional excitement of his audience are for Socrates beside the point. Many of the same points as those above can be made for Plato as well. His use of imitation is “noble” in a way. It relies, as Harvey Yunis points out,74 “not on poetic inspiration, but on philosophic knowledge and authority, it ties the pleasures of mimesis not to conventional values but to philosophic ones, it appeals not to the appetitive pleasures, but to those of reason; it enters the public realm not to garner fame, but for the sake of the public good.” Ruby Blondell has also contributed significantly to the explication of Plato’s ironic, even paradoxical, use of mimesis. He argues that “collectively, Plato’s works may be viewed as exploring different ways of controlling the dangers of mimetic pedagogy that accompany dramatic form, while reaping its benefits.”75 He goes on to discuss in-depth the various strategies Plato uses to reduce the dangers of mimetic pedagogy, namely, through the use of irony, indirect speech, and what Blondell refers to as satiric contempt (i.e. when a particularly undesirable character is presented negatively in the dialogues). At any rate, it remains for us to examine in detail Socrates’ adaptation of the beginning of Homer’s Iliad.

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Yunis 2007, 18. Blondell 2002, 90.

493 Original Context Plato Rep. 3.393c11-394b1 Εἰ δέ γε μηδαμοῦ ἑαυτὸν ἀποκρύπτοιτο ὁ ποιητής, πᾶσα ἂν αὐτῷ ἄνευ μιμήσεως ἡ ποίησίς τε καὶ διήγησις γεγονυῖα εἴη. ἵνα δὲ μὴ εἴπῃς ὅτι οὐκ αὖ μανθάνεις, ὅπως ἂν τοῦτο γένοιτο ἐγὼ φράσω. εἰ γὰρ Ὅμηρος εἰπὼν ὅτι [ἦλθεν ὁ Χρύσης τῆς τε θυγατρὸς λύτρα φέρων καὶ ἱκέτης τῶν Ἀχαιῶν, μάλιστα δὲ τῶν βασιλέων,] μετὰ τοῦτο μὴ ὡς Χρύσης γενόμενος ἔλεγεν ἀλλ’ ἔτι ὡς Ὅμηρος, οἶσθ’ ὅτι οὐκ ἂν μίμησις ἦν ἀλλὰ ἁπλῆ διήγησις. εἶχε δ’ ἂν ὧδε πως--φράσω δὲ ἄνευ μέτρου· οὐ γάρ εἰμι ποιητικός—[Ἐλθὼν ὁ ἱερεὺς ηὔχετο ἐκείνοις μὲν τοὺς θεοὺς δοῦναι ἑλόντας τὴν Τροίαν αὐτοὺς σωθῆναι, τὴν δὲ θυγατέρα οἱ λῦσαι δεξαμένους ἄποινα καὶ τὸν θεὸν αἰδεσθέντας. ταῦτα δὲ εἰπόντος αὐτοῦ οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι ἐσέβοντο καὶ συνῄνουν, ὁ δὲ Ἀγαμέμνων ἠγρίαινεν ἐντελλόμενος νῦν τε ἀπιέναι καὶ αὖθις μὴ ἐλθεῖν, μὴ αὐτῷ τό τε σκῆπτρον καὶ τὰ τοῦ θεοῦ στέμματα οὐκ ἐπαρκέσοι· πρὶν δὲ λυθῆναι αὐτοῦ τὴν θυγατέρα, ἐν Ἄργει ἔφη γηράσειν μετὰ οὗ· ἀπιέναι δ’ ἐκέλευεν καὶ μὴ ἐρεθίζειν, ἵνα σῶς οἴκαδε ἔλθοι. ὁ δὲ πρεσβύτης ἀκούσας ἔδεισέν τε καὶ ἀπῄει σιγῇ, ἀποχωρήσας δὲ ἐκ τοῦ στρατοπέδου πολλὰ τῷ Ἀπόλλωνι ηὔχετο, τάς τε ἐπωνυμίας τοῦ θεοῦ ἀνακαλῶν καὶ ὑπομιμνῄσκων καὶ ἀπαιτῶν, εἴ τι πώποτε ἢ ἐν ναῶν οἰκοδομήσεσιν ἢ ἐν ἱερῶν θυσίαις κεχαρισμένον δωρήσαιτο· ὧν δὴ χάριν κατηύχετο τεῖσαι τοὺς Ἀχαιοὺς τὰ ἃ δάκρυα τοῖς ἐκείνου βέλεσιν.] οὕτως, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ὦ ἑταῖρε, ἄνευ μιμήσεως ἁπλῆ διήγησις γίγνεται.

d

5

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e2 αὐτοὺς] αὐτοὺς A F M : αὐτοὺς δὲ D f e7 ἐπαρκέσοι] ἐπαρκέσοι A D M : ἐπαρέσκει σοι F e8 ἐρεθίζειν] <ἑ> ἐρεθίζειν ci. Valckenaer76 a5 οἰκοδομήσεσιν] κοσμήσεσιν ci. Ast [Socrates:] “If the poet never hid himself, the whole of his poem would be narrative without imitation. In order to prevent you from saying again that you don’t understand, I’ll show you what this would be like. If Homer said that [Chryses came with a ransom for his daughter to supplicate the Achaeans, especially the kings,] and after that didn’t speak as if he had become Chryses, but still as Homer, there would be no imitation but rather simple narrative. It would have gone something like this -- I’ll speak without meter since I’m no poet: [‘And the priest came and prayed that the gods would allow them to capture Troy and be safe afterwards, that they’d accept the ransom and free his daughter, and thus show reverence for the god. When he’d said this, the others showed their respect for the priest and 76

See Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) on the superiority of the MS. reading here.

494 consented. But Agamemnon was angry and ordered him to leave and never to return, lest his priestly wand and the wreaths of the god should fail to protect him. He said that, before freeing the daughter, he’d grow old in Argos by her side. He told Chryses to go away and not to make him angry, if he wanted to get home safely. When the old man heard this, he was frightened and went off in silence. But when he’d left the camp he prayed at length to Apollo, calling him by his various titles and reminding him and asking requital for his own services to him. If any of those services had been found pleasing, whether it was the building of temples or the sacrifice of victims, he asked in return that the arrows of the god should make the Achaeans pay for his tears.’] This is the way we get simple narrative without imitation.” Homer Il. 1.12-42 [... ὃ γὰρ ἦλθε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν λυσόμενός τε θύγατρα φέρων τ’ ἀπερείσι’ ἄποινα, στέμματ’ ἔχων ἐν χερσὶν ἑκηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος χρυσέῳ ἀνὰ σκήπτρῳ, καὶ λίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρεί̈δα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν· Ἀτρεί̈δαι τε καὶ ἄλλοι ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοί, ὑμῖν μὲν θεοὶ δοῖεν Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχοντες ἐκπέρσαι Πριάμοιο πόλιν, εὖ δ’ οἴκαδ’ ἱκέσθαι· παῖδα δ’ ἐμοὶ λύσαιτε φίλην, τὰ δ’ ἄποινα δέχεσθαι, ἁζόμενοι Διὸς υἱὸν ἑκηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα. ἔνθ’ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἐπευφήμησαν Ἀχαιοὶ αἰδεῖσθαι θ’ ἱερῆα καὶ ἀγλαὰ δέχθαι ἄποινα· ἀλλ’ οὐκ Ἀτρεί̈δῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι ἥνδανε θυμῷ, ἀλλὰ κακῶς ἀφίει, κρατερὸν δ’ ἐπὶ μῦθον ἔτελλε· μή σε γέρον κοίλῃσιν ἐγὼ παρὰ νηυσὶ κιχείω ἢ νῦν δηθύνοντ’ ἢ ὕστερον αὖτις ἰόντα, μή νύ τοι οὐ χραίσμῃ σκῆπτρον καὶ στέμμα θεοῖο· τὴν δ’ ἐγὼ οὐ λύσω· πρίν μιν καὶ γῆρας ἔπεισιν ἡμετέρῳ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ ἐν Ἄργεϊ τηλόθι πάτρης ἱστὸν ἐποιχομένην καὶ ἐμὸν λέχος ἀντιόωσαν· ἀλλ’ ἴθι μή μ’ ἐρέθιζε σαώτερος ὥς κε νέηαι. ὣς ἔφατ’, ἔδεισεν δ’ ὃ γέρων καὶ ἐπείθετο μύθῳ· βῆ δ’ ἀκέων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης· πολλὰ δ’ ἔπειτ’ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν ἠρᾶθ’ ὃ γεραιὸς Ἀπόλλωνι ἄνακτι, τὸν ἠύ̈κομος τέκε Λητώ· κλῦθί μευ ἀργυρότοξ’, ὃς Χρύσην ἀμφιβέβηκας Κίλλάν τε ζαθέην Τενέδοιο τε ἶφι ἀνάσσεις, Σμινθεῦ εἴ ποτε τοι χαρίεντ’ ἐπὶ νηὸν ἔρεψα, ἢ εἰ δή ποτέ τοι κατὰ πίονα μηρί’ ἔκηα ταύρων ἠδ’ αἰγῶν, τὸ δέ μοι κρήηνον ἐέλδωρ· τίσειαν Δαναοὶ ἐμὰ δάκρυα σοῖσι βέλεσσιν.]

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35

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495 [For he had come to the swift ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, bearing ransom past counting; and in his hands he held the wreaths of Apollo who strikes from afar, on a staff of gold; and he implored all the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, the marshallers of the people: “Sons of Atreus, and other well-greaved Achaeans, to you may the gods who have homes upon Olympus grant that you sack the city of Priam, and return safe to your homes; but my dear child release to me, and accept the ransom out of reverence for the son of Zeus, Apollo who strikes from afar.” Then all the rest of the Achaeans shouted assent, to reverence the priest and accept the glorious ransom, yet the thing did not please the heart of Agamemnon, son of Atreus, but he sent him away harshly, and laid upon him a stern command: “Let me not find you, old man, by the hollow ships, either tarrying now or coming back later, lest your staff and the wreath of the god not protect you. Her I will not set free. Sooner shall old age come upon her in our house, in Argos, far from her native land, as she walks to and fro before the loom and serves my bed. But go, do not anger me, that you may return the safer.” So he spoke, and the old man was seized with fear and obeyed his word. He went forth in silence along the shore of the loud-resounding sea, and earnestly then, when he had gone apart, the old man prayed to the lord Apollo, whom fair-haired Leto bore: “Hear me, god of the silver bow, who stand over Chryse and holy Cilla, and rule mightily over Tenedos, Sminthian god, if ever I roofed over a temple to your pleasing, or if ever I burned to you fat thigh-pieces of bulls and goats, fulfill this prayer for me: let the Danaans pay for my tears by your arrows.”] Textual Differences Adams’ claim that Socrates’ paraphrase of Homer “is accurate, and … leaves nothing essential out,” is, for the most part, true.77 Yet, at the same time, it is tempting to argue, as I will, in favor of the likelihood that “Socrates’ Iliad” is more than just an innocuous, straightforward, prose account of the Homeric original. While Socrates eliminates Homer’s mimetic narrative in his retelling of the beginning of the Iliad, he goes much further than that stylistically. As we shall see below, in the first place, he compresses the action of the original Homeric passage considerably. Socrates’ text is only two-thirds the length of the Homeric original.78 Socrates does this by eliminating all adjectival ornamentation, especially the use of formulaic epithets, an 77

Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc. The original Homeric text is 224 words; Socrates’ text is only 151 words, a 32.6 percent reduction. 78

496 omission, as Labarbe points out, that helps Socrates avoid sounding like that which he is not: a poet.79 He also excises certain minor details – such as the mention of the Greeks’ ships (cf. Il. 1.26) and the sea (cf. Il. 1.34) – that do not serve to advance the basic action of the plot. It even appears at times that Socrates assiduously avoids Homeric diction. Naturally, a great deal of this is due to the fact that Socrates is composing in prose in the Attic dialect.80 Yet, while some of his circumlocutions are rather capricious, others are uncanny, as we shall see below. At the very least, Socrates’ prosaic rendering of Homer’s epic – in both senses of that word prosaic in English – certainly goes far in removing from the poet his beguiling charm. In this way, not only is “Socrates’ Iliad” a stylistic improvement on Homer’s original in the eyes of Plato, but it is also a means of removing from poetry its dangerous ability to disrupt psychic (and therefore social) harmony. It is important to note, against the opinion of Bolling,81 that the differences between Plato and Homer’s text in general are not likely the result of Plato citing from a different textual tradition. The evidence collected thus far in this study suggests the exact opposite, in fact, as we have found Plato’s Homer to be about 95 percent faithful to our own vulgate (see Introduction, 3. “Plato’s Homer”). Finally, one of the most difficult aspects of analyzing Plato’s prosaic treatment of Homer is the lack of comparative material. We know that such prose adaptations were practiced in schools of rhetoric in Plato’s day for pedagogic purposes,82 but we have no contemporary

79

Labarbe 1949, 358: “Platon a eu le souci d’exclure les expressions figées, propres au style aédique.” 80 See Labarbe (1949, 358) on this point. 81 Bolling 1925, 59-60. See Labarbe (1949, 352-3), however, who quite successfully opposes the arguments that Bolling advances, as does Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.). 82 Halliwell 1988, ad 601b2.

497 material that survives that is comparable in length to the Homeric paraphrase we find in Plato.83 Thus, it is impossible to tell how novel Socrates’ prosaic rendering of Homer is. Indeed, it is not until the second century A. D. that we have something comparable, namely, Aristides’ paraphrase of the beginning of the Iliad. This text, however, seems to show, at points, a dependence on Plato and is both so late and so unlike Plato in purpose and tone as to have little value for our inquiry.84 Passage 1 Plato Rep. 3.393d3-4 ... ἦλθεν ὁ Χρύσης τῆς τε θυγατρὸς λύτρα φέρων Homer Iliad 1.12-15 ... ὃ γὰρ ἦλθε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν λυσόμενός τε θύγατρα φέρων τ’ ἀπερείσι’ ἄποινα, στέμματ’ ἔχων ἐν χερσὶν ἑκηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος χρυσέῳ ἀνὰ σκήπτρῳ ...

15

As noted above, and as we shall see below, in this passage all unnecessary ornamentation and detail is left out. In Plato, Chryses simply “came” (ἦλθεν, d3), “bearing” (φέρων, d4) “a ransom” (λύτρα, d4) “for his daughter” (θυγατρὸς, d4). Socrates makes no mention of the Greeks’ “swift ships” (θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας, 12), the size of the ransom – it is “past counting” (ἀπερείσι’, 13) in Homer – or of any of Chryses’ accoutrements (cf. 14-15).85 The result is a simple narrative in all senses of the word “simple.” “Socrates’ Iliad” here and throughout is 83

Labarbe 1949, 349. Other even later examples of such rhetorical exercises appear in the works of Michael Psellos, Manuel Moschopoulos, and Theodore of Gaza. For an examination of these sources, see Ludwich (1884-5, 486 ff.). 85 In Aristides’ paraphrase of these same lines, he does make mention of the priest’s wreath and staff. 84

498 profoundly flat, lacking entirely in Homeric vividness. He is fairly close to Homer’s diction, however, departing only significantly in his use of the non-poetic, non-Homeric word λύτρα (d4) for Homer’s ἄποινα (13).86 Passage 2 Plato Rep. 3.393d4-5 ... καὶ ἱκέτης τῶν Ἀχαιῶν, μάλιστα δὲ τῶν βασιλέων, Homer Iliad 1.15-16 καὶ λίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρεί̈δα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν·

5

15

Here Socrates substitutes the noun ἱκέτης (d4) for Homer’s verb λίσσετο (15) and simplifies substantially the description of the people to whom Chryses’ supplication is directed, Agamemnon and Menelaus especially. In Plato, these men are referred to merely as βασιλέων (5), whereas in Homer they are the Ἀτρεί̈δα … δύω (16) and retain their traditional epithet, κοσμήτορε λαῶν (16). Passage 3 Plato Rep. 3.393d8-e3 ... Ἐλθὼν ὁ ἱερεὺς ηὔχετο ἐκείνοις μὲν τοὺς θεοὺς δοῦναι ἑλόντας τὴν Τροίαν αὐτοὺς σωθῆναι, τὴν δὲ θυγατέρα οἱ λῦσαι δεξαμένους ἄποινα καὶ τὸν θεὸν αἰδεσθέντας. Homer Iliad 1.17-21 Ἀτρεί̈δαι τε καὶ ἄλλοι ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοί, ὑμῖν μὲν θεοὶ δοῖεν Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχοντες 86

ἄποινα does appear later in Plato in this passage at e3.

e

499 ἐκπέρσαι Πριάμοιο πόλιν, εὖ δ’ οἴκαδ’ ἱκέσθαι· παῖδα δ’ ἐμοὶ λύσαιτε φίλην, τὰ δ’ ἄποινα δέχεσθαι, ἁζόμενοι Διὸς υἱὸν ἑκηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα.

20

In Plato, Chryses simply comes “to them” (ἐκείνοις, e1) rather than to Homer’s “well-greaved Achaeans” (ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοί, 17). In order to avoid mimesis, Socrates reports quite simply “the priest prayed” (ὁ ἱερεὺς ηὔχετο, e1), whereas Homer, the mimetic poet, performs the speech as if he himself were Chryses. In Plato, Chryses wishes that the Greeks “take” (ἑλόντας, e1) “Troy” (Τροίαν, e2) rather than “sack” (ἐκπέρσαι, 19) the “the city of Priam” (Πριάμοιο πόλιν, 19), as in Homer. In Plato, all this is asked with the “gods granting it” (τοὺς θεοὺς δοῦναι, e1), as Socrates, continuing to eliminate ornamentation from the original Homeric passage, eschews the traditional epithet for the gods in Homer: Ὀλύμπια δώματ’ ἔχοντες (18). Both passages naturally differ in terms of construction, with Socrates reporting the content of Chryses’ speech in indirect statement, Homer directly. There are, however, also many differences in phrasing. Both passages include Chryses wishing the Greeks return safely: in Plato it is phrased as αὐτοὺς σωθῆναι (e2);87 in Homer εὖ δ’ οἴκαδ’ ἱκέσθαι (19). In the same way, compare the treatment of the mention of the ransom and release of Chryseis in Homer and Plato. In Plato, we read τὴν δὲ θυγατέρα οἱ λῦσαι δεξαμένους ἄποινα (e2-3) versus Homer’s παῖδα δ’ ἐμοὶ λύσαιτε φίλην, τὰ δ’ ἄποινα δέχεσθαι (20). Besides the use of δέχομαι in both passages, the vocabulary is quite distinct. Finally, in Homer, Chryses prays to Apollo, complete with the ornate epithet Διὸς υἱὸν ἑκηβόλον (21), which is replaced in Plato quite soberly with Socrates’ generic “god” (τὸν θεὸν, e3).

87

Adam ([1902] 2010, ad loc.) points out that “the emphatic αὐτοὺς accurately represents Homer’s ὑμῖν μέν.”

500 Passage 4 Plato Rep. 3.393e3-4 ... ταῦτα δὲ εἰπόντος αὐτοῦ οἱ μὲν ἄλλοι ἐσέβοντο καὶ συνῄνουν Homer Iliad 1.22-23 ἔνθ’ ἄλλοι μὲν πάντες ἐπευφήμησαν Ἀχαιοὶ αἰδεῖσθαι θ’ ἱερῆα καὶ ἀγλαὰ δέχθαι ἄποινα· Once again, while in terms of content (logos), Socrates and Homer say nearly the same thing, one important difference between the two passages is Homer’s second mention of the ransom Chryses offers (cf. ἄποινα 20, 23).88 In terms of their style (lexis), however, the passages are quite distinct, particularly in respect to their diction. Socrates, for example, matches Homer’s ἐπευφήμησαν (22) with συνῄνουν (e4) and Homer’s αἰδεῖσθαι (23) with ἐσέβοντο (e4), perhaps depicting his soldiers with some more emotional reserve than those of Homer. Not only is their nous involved in their decision-making, but they also do not let out anything like the shout of Homer’s troops. Passage 5 Plato 3.393e5-7 ... ὁ δὲ Ἀγαμέμνων ἠγρίαινεν ἐντελλόμενος νῦν τε ἀπιέναι καὶ αὖθις μὴ ἐλθεῖν, μὴ αὐτῷ τό τε σκῆπτρον καὶ τὰ τοῦ θεοῦ στέμματα οὐκ ἐπαρκέσοι

5

Homer Iliad 1.24-28 ἀλλ’ οὐκ Ἀτρεί̈δῃ Ἀγαμέμνονι ἥνδανε θυμῷ, 88

Bolling (1925, 59) makes the erroneous argument that Plato’s Homer did not contain Il. 1. 23 because of this and other seeming omissions. Labarbe (1949, 352), however, in detailed fashion demonstrates the error of Bolling’s position. I shall support Labarbe’s reading below by illustrating the many ways in which Socrates’ language clearly echoes Il. 1.23.

501 ἀλλὰ κακῶς ἀφίει, κρατερὸν δ’ ἐπὶ μῦθον ἔτελλε· μή σε γέρον κοίλῃσιν ἐγὼ παρὰ νηυσὶ κιχείω ἢ νῦν δηθύνοντ’ ἢ ὕστερον αὖτις ἰόντα, μή νύ τοι οὐ χραίσμῃ σκῆπτρον καὶ στέμμα θεοῖο·

25

Once again, Socrates mirrors the meaning of Homer’s original, but uses language that is quite distinct. Whereas Homer’s Agamemnon, with the obligatory epithet Ἀτρεί̈δῃ (24), is “not pleased in his heart” (οὐκ … ἥνδανε θυμῷ, 24), in Plato he is simply “angry” (ἠγρίαινεν, e5). Further, Socrates leaves out Homer’s elaborate introduction to Agamemnon’s speech and, of course, reports indirectly the content of Agamemnon’s direct speech in Homer, several of the minor details of which he leaves out. Socrates, for example, makes no mention of Homer’s “hollow ships” (κοίλῃσιν … νηυσὶ, 26). He does mention, however, in somewhat similar language Chryses’ staff and scepter, a detail he had left out in Passage 1 above. Compare Homer’s σκῆπτρον καὶ στέμμα θεοῖο with Socrates’ τό τε σκῆπτρον καὶ τὰ τοῦ θεοῦ στέμματα. The effect of such omissions in the aggregate is striking. As Naddaff puts it, “[Socrates] takes the emotional fun out of Homer.”89 While the audience is aware in Socrates’ Iliad of the simple fact that Agamemnon is angry, we do not know what words he uses to express that anger. And so the emotive impact of the episode is lost. Passage 6 Plato Rep. 3.393e7-8 πρὶν δὲ λυθῆναι αὐτοῦ τὴν θυγατέρα, ἐν Ἄργει ἔφη γηράσειν μετὰ οὗ· Homer Iliad 1.29-31 89

Naddaff 2002, 59.

502 τὴν δ’ ἐγὼ οὐ λύσω· πρίν μιν καὶ γῆρας ἔπεισιν ἡμετέρῳ ἐνὶ οἴκῳ ἐν Ἄργεϊ τηλόθι πάτρης ἱστὸν ἐποιχομένην καὶ ἐμὸν λέχος ἀντιόωσαν·

30

The most striking aspect of this part of Socrates’ paraphrase is that he completely ignores the detail about Chryseis’ weaving in Agamemnon’s house.90 This exclusion is particularly interesting given that it is later athetized by Aristarchus either on the grounds of some perceived indecency or the fact that it is not consistent in tone with the threats Agamemnon makes immediately beforehand to Chryses.91 That is to say, a life of weaving is hardly unusual let alone hateful even to a freeborn woman in ancient Greece.92 The language in the beginning of the respective passages is closely parallel. Both texts include a form of λύω (cf. λυθῆναι e7 to λύσω 29), the adverb πρίν (e7, 29), and roughly equivalent expressions referring to old age (cf. γηράσειν (e8) to γῆρας (29)). Passage 7 Plato Rep. 3.393e8-9 ἀπιέναι δ’ ἐκέλευεν καὶ μὴ ἐρεθίζειν, ἵνα σῶς οἴκαδε ἔλθοι. Homer Iliad 1.32 ἀλλ’ ἴθι μή μ’ ἐρέθιζε σαώτερος ὥς κε νέηαι.

90

See the commentary of Naddaff (2002, 58) on this point, who argues persuasively that the avoidance of such personal, intimate details such as this in Socrates’ “simple narrative” helps him eliminate the epic’s dramatic tension and “[purge] Homer’s text of subjects, subjectivities, and desire [thus making] the epic [become] a straightforward chronicle of events.” 91 Schol. A ad A 29-31. See further Labarbe (1949, 353-5), who makes an exhaustive examination of this exclusion in Plato. Labarbe successfully defends the view, against Bolling, that Plato surely knew of Il. 1.31, but that he simply chose to ignore it. 92 See, e.g., the weaving of such characters as Andromache (Il. 6.490-492), Penelope (Od. 1.356359; 2.94), and even the goddesses Calypso (Od. 5.62) and Circe (Od. 10.222; cf. 226-228).

503 As above in passage 6, Socrates uses the same main verb as Homer. Compare Homer’s ἐρέθιζε (32) to Plato’s ἐρεθίζειν (e8). He also mimics his use of the adjective σῶς, although he employs the positive form σῶς (e9) in contrast to Homer’s comparative σαώτερος (32). Compare also in Plato the use of (the more natural Attic construction for purpose) ἵνα ... οἴκαδε ἔλθοι (e9) to Homer’s ὥς κε νέηαι. Passage 8 Plato Rep. 3.394a1-2 ὁ δὲ πρεσβύτης ἀκούσας ἔδεισέν τε καὶ ἀπῄει σιγῇ,

394

Homer Iliad 1.33-4 ὣς ἔφατ’, ἔδεισεν δ’ ὃ γέρων καὶ ἐπείθετο μύθῳ· βῆ δ’ ἀκέων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης· As in Allusions 38 & 40, Socrates uses ὁ ... πρεσβύτης (a1) for Homer’s ὃ γέρων (33). He does, however, mirror Homer’s verb use, this time in identical fashion with ἔδεισέν (a1) / ἔδεισεν (33). Yet, whereas in Homer Chryses “obey[s] the word” (ἐπείθετο μύθῳ, 33) of Agamemnon, in Plato he just “hears” (ἀκούσας, a1) him. Finally, in both passages Chryses departs in silence, yet the diction is completely different, expressed by ἀπῄει σιγῇ (a2) in Plato and βῆ δ’ ἀκέων (34) in Homer. Thereafter Socrates completely disregards the latter half of Il. 1.34, leaving out any mention of Homer’s “loud-resounding sea” (πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης, 34), reminiscent of other exclusions of Homeric epithets and formulaic phrases in the passages above. Passage 9 Plato Rep. 3.394a2-3

504 ἀποχωρήσας δὲ ἐκ τοῦ στρατοπέδου πολλὰ τῷ Ἀπόλλωνι ηὔχετο, τάς τε ἐπωνυμίας τοῦ θεοῦ ἀνακαλῶν Homer Iliad 1.35-39 πολλὰ δ’ ἔπειτ’ ἀπάνευθε κιὼν ἠρᾶθ’ ὃ γεραιὸς Ἀπόλλωνι ἄνακτι, τὸν ἠύ̈κομος τέκε Λητώ· κλῦθί μευ ἀργυρότοξ’, ὃς Χρύσην ἀμφιβέβηκας Κίλλάν τε ζαθέην Τενέδοιο τε ἶφι ἀνάσσεις, Σμινθεῦ

35

Here the Homeric and Platonic texts vary considerably. The only similarity in the texts is the use of the word πολλὰ (a2 / 35). To point out the differences in the texts, then, compare the description of Chryses’ departure in Plato, ἀποχωρήσας δὲ ἐκ τοῦ στρατοπέδου (a2), to that in Homer, ἀπάνευθε κιὼν (35). In each passage, Chryses prays, but in Plato the verb is ηὔχετο (a3), in Homer ἠρᾶθ᾽ (35). The most severe alteration in Plato’s text of Homer’s original is Socrates’ avoidance of the elaborate appellations conferred upon the god Apollo in Homer. Socrates replaces nearly three lines of Homer’s text and eighteen words with the economical τάς ... ἐπωνυμίας (a2). Once again, he uses the generic τοῦ θεοῦ (a3) for Homer’s Ἀπόλλωνι ἄνακτι (36). The most obvious difference between the two texts naturally is Socrates’ use of indirect statement in place of Homer’s direct statement. Passage 10 Plato Rep. 3.394a4-6 καὶ ὑπομιμνῄσκων καὶ ἀπαιτῶν, εἴ τι πώποτε ἢ ἐν ναῶν οἰκοδομήσεσιν ἢ ἐν ἱερῶν θυσίαις κεχαρισμένον δωρήσαιτο· ὧν δὴ χάριν κατηύχετο τεῖσαι τοὺς Ἀχαιοὺς τὰ ἃ δάκρυα τοῖς ἐκείνου βέλεσιν. Homer Il. 1.39-42 εἴ ποτε τοι χαρίεντ’ ἐπὶ νηὸν ἔρεψα, ἢ εἰ δή ποτέ τοι κατὰ πίονα μηρί’ ἔκηα

5

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505 ταύρων ἠδ’ αἰγῶν, τὸ δέ μοι κρήηνον ἐέλδωρ· τίσειαν Δαναοὶ ἐμὰ δάκρυα σοῖσι βέλεσσιν. Socrates introduces his indirect report of Chryses’ prayer to the god using the participles ὑπομιμνῄσκων (a4) and ἀπαιτῶν (a4). With his use of ἀπαιτῶν, Socrates makes the quid pro quo nature of Olympian religion quite explicit.93 Thereafter, he includes a list of Chryses’ services to Apollo, similar to that of Homer in content, yet, as has been the case throughout the Platonic selection, different, at times significantly, from Homer’s phrasing and diction.94 Socrates’ ἐν ναῶν οἰκοδομήσεσιν (a4-5), for example, approximates Homer’s ἐπὶ νηὸν ἔρεψα (39). Moreover, Socrates’ mention of animal sacrifice (ἐν ἱερῶν θυσίαις, a5) hardly contains the detail of that of Homer (ἢ εἰ δή ποτέ τοι κατὰ πίονα μηρί’ ἔκηα / ταύρων ἠδ’ αἰγῶν, 40-41). In both passages, the “favor” of the god is mentioned, in Plato with κεχαρισμένον (a5) and χάριν (a6), in Homer χαρίεντ’ (39). Finally, Socrates’ language does adhere fairly closely to Homer’s in the final thought expressed in the respective selections, namely the idea of the Greeks paying for Chryses’ tears with Apollo’s arrows. Compare Socrates’ τεῖσαι (a6) to Homer’s τίσειαν (42), his use of Ἀχαιοὺς (a6) to Homer’s Δαναοὶ (42), their identical use of δάκρυα (a6 / 42), and, finally, Socrates’ βέλεσιν (a7) to Homer’s βέλεσσιν (42). Interpretation It is only after Socrates shows what Homer would be like without imitation that he argues that mimesis is undesirable. As always, Socrates’ primary concern is with poetry’s role in education.

93

For Socrates’ criticism of this idea, see esp. Paraphrase 2 & Quotation 8. Their respective lists are introduced somewhat similarly. Compare, for example, Homer’s εἴ ποτε τοι (39) to Socrates’ εἴ τι πώποτε (a4). 94

506 As such, he points out two problems with poetic mimesis.95 Firstly, it violates the principle of the division of labor as established in Socrates’ city-in-speech.96 If each man can do only one occupation well, “he’ll hardly be able to pursue any worthwhile way of life while at the same time imitating many things and being an imitator” (Rep. 3.394e4-6; cf. also 3.397d). In the case of the guardians, they specialize as “craftsmen of freedom” (δημιουργοὺς ἐλευθερίας, Rep. 3.395c1). Anything that draws them away from that practice compromises both them and the health of the city. Secondly, imitation can corrupt the character of the imitator and the listener provided that the object of the imitation is flawed in some way. It is important to point out, as many modern commentators have done before, that Socrates’ comments must be understood in the context of a culture where poetry is orally recited, with the rhapsode playing the role of individual characters, as it were, much like an actor.97 It is assumed further that the audience is

95

Socrates points out a third problem with mimesis in Book 10, when he discusses mimesis in a broader sense. While in Books 2-3, Socrates limits his discussion of mimesis to describe the way a poet (and perhaps by extension his audience) impersonates or imitates a given character, in Rep. 10 Socrates discusses mimesis in terms of the poets’ imitation or representation of reality in general. He argues that mimesis in this general sense is problematic – especially for nonphilosophers – in that it can limit one’s ability to gain any kind of true understanding of things themselves (cf. Rep. 10.595b-608c). The different senses in which Socrates uses the term mimesis in the Republic have attracted an inordinate amount of scholarly attention, not in the least because his tolerance for mimesis seems to run out in Book 10, where he dismisses mimesis all together. For more on this problem and Plato’s views on mimesis in general, see Greene (1918), Brownson (1920, esp. 93 ff.), Collingwood (1925), Tate (1928; 1932), Verdenius (1949), Havelock ([1963] 1982, esp. 17, 29), Cross (1964, 271 ff.), Gould (1964), and more recently Annas (1981, esp. 336), Nehamas (1982), Urmson (1982), Belfiore (1984), Janaway (1995, 107 ff.), and esp. Halliwell (2002). 96 For more on the social effect of mimesis, see Too (2004, 66). 97 See esp. Ion 535c4-8 and the commentary of P. Murray ([1996] 2007, ad loc.) on the rhapsode’s immersion into the characters he portrays. See also Havelock ([1963] 1982, 21-2) and Halliwell (2002, 52-3). P. Murray ([1996] 2007, ad Rep. 393c5-6) comments as follows: “imitation is not a superficial activity, but involves a deep emotional identification on the part of the imitator with the speaker whose words he is impersonating. Mimesis thus has ethical implications right from the start of the discussion … speaking in the voice of another is in some sense to become that person, and therefore to acquire that person’s habits; imitation affects the

507 carried away by such a performance, emotionally surrendering themselves to the inspired performance of the poet.98 Socrates sums up the psychological effect of mimesis, then, as follows: “Haven’t you noticed that imitations [αἱ μιμήσεως, d1] practiced from youth become part of nature and settle into habits of gesture, voice, and thought?” (Rep. 3.395d1-3). Despite the potentially damaging effects of mimesis here in Books 2-3, Socrates does not eliminate it altogether for his guardians: “if they do imitate, they must imitate from childhood what is appropriate for them, namely people who are courageous, self-controlled, pious, and free” (ἐὰν δὲ μιμῶνται, μιμεῖσθαι τὰ τούτοις προσήκοντα εὐθὺς ἐκ παίδων, ἀνδρείους, σώφρονας, ὁσίους, ἐλευθέρους, Rep.3.395c3-5).99 In the Platonic passage we have examined, then, Socrates produces a non-mimetic version of Homer’s narrative that, on the surface at least, simply serves to show how mimetic and simple narrative differ from one another.100 In the process, however, he comments more broadly on Homeric style in general. Not only is mimesis potentially dangerous, but poetic style can be, too. In the same way that the poet “hides” when he imitates a given character, he can also “hide” the damaging nature of the content of his stories, when he presents it in an appealing way, in beautiful, ornate language, that is both rhythmic and emotionally evocative. “Socrates’ Iliad,” then, eschews all aspects of poetic lexis. To turn poetry into something that is

behavior of the imitator (395c-e), so that style can never be simply an aesthetic phenomenon.” For more generally on the ethical dimensions of mimesis in Plato, see also Ferrari (1989, 114-8). 98 P. Murray [1996] 2007, ad Ion 532c8-9. 99 That is to say, they must not imitate, in particular, Homer’s Achilles, the very character whom Socrates condemns on the grounds that he does not exemplify any of the virtues just mentioned. In this study, see Quotations 11, 13, 15, 18, 20-1, 30, 38-9 and Allusions 20-2, 33-4, 36-7. On the benefits of imitating good men, see also Rep. 3.396d. 100 As Naddaff (2002, 58) puts it, “Socrates … reduces [Homer] to a useless ‘archaic’ artifact, functioning as a rather limited rhetorical lesson in matters stylistic … [he] transforms Homer into a purely academic lesson.”

508 pedagogically useful, the philosopher-poet prioritizes content over style.101 As Socrates himself says at Rep. 3.400c8-9, “rhythm and mode must conform to the words and not vice versa.” In the passage we have examined, then, Socrates does just that: he subordinates Homer’s lexis to logos. In the process, Socrates reinvents the way in which rhapsodic performance operates. As a rhapsode himself, Socrates is not a passive receptacle into which the words of Homer are poured only to be spat out again verbatim. Socrates is not inspired either. He is rationally engaged with the material he recites. In much the same way that he urged the poets’ audience “to consider carefully” (cf. Quotation 1) the words of the poet, in this citation and others, Socrates, as Naddaff puts it (the emphasis is mine), “attempts to convey to the audience an understanding of what Homer says and why he says it.”102 He is not interested in preserving Homer as is. Unlike a rhapsode, he is not bound by his art to be faithful to the Homeric original. As a philosopher, his primary job is to interpret, to understand, to engage in dialogue, as much as it is possible, with Homer’s mute text. In the end, Socrates removes from Homer that which is undesirable from a philosophic standpoint. As Naddaff puts it, in reference to this specific passage, “Socrates performs a secularized Homer ... without the seductive, enchanting charms of poetic language.”103 That is not to say that Plato’s Socrates eschews poetic “charms” throughout the whole of the Republic. When it is to his advantage and directed towards philosophic goals, poetry’s charm can be transmuted in such a way that it performs a “useful” (χρήσιμος), “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος), a philosophic function. In the Myth of Er, or The Allegory of the Cave, poetic form is used, but for an explicit philosophic purpose. In this passage, however,

101

For a provocative reading of “Socrates’ Iliad” as a means for Socrates to engage in a poetic contest with Homer, see Naddaff (2002, 62). 102 Naddaff 2002, 61. 103 Naddaff 2002, 61.

509 Plato’s Socrates wants not only to demonstrate explicitly the nature of simple narrative, but also implicitly how he can weaken the emotional impact of Homer by removing its mimetic elements.

3. Socrates’ Apologoi

ὦ Ἀδείμαντε, οὐκ ἐσμὲν ποιηταὶ ἐγώ τε καὶ σὺ ἐν τῷ παρόντι, ἀλλ᾽ οἰκισταὶ πόλεως· οἰκισταῖς δὲ τοὺς μὲν τύπους προσήκει εἰδέναι ἐν οἷς δεῖ μυθολογεῖν τοὺς ποιητάς, παρ᾽ οὓς ἐὰν ποιῶσιν οὐκ ἐπιτρεπτέον, οὐ μὴν αὐτοῖς γε ποιητέον μύθους. (Plato Rep. 2.378e7-379a4) You and I, Adeimantus, aren’t poets, but we are founding a city. And it’s appropriate for the founders to know the patterns on which poets must base their stories and from which they mustn’t deviate. But we aren’t actually going to compose poems for them.

Despite the rejection of mythic or poetic form (not to mention content) in the Republic, it is clear that Plato the writer did not hesitate to use the allure and authority of mythic discourse to advance his own philosophic arguments.104 Segal understands Plato’s use of myth as a means for him to re-cast Homeric myth in the context of philosophy and thus fundamentally alter the relationship between artist and listener in such a way as to avoid the damaging and passive nature of poetic consumption:105

104

The bibliography on Plato’s use of myth is enormous. Several of the most important approaches to understanding the “problem” of Plato’s use of myth are included in Stewart (1905), Frutiger ([1930] 1976), Edelstein (1949), Reinhardt (1960), Zaslavsky (1981), and Brisson (1998; 2004). See also the Introduction to this work for a brief overview of the problem. 105 Segal 1978, 325.

510 In recasting … epic comprehensiveness into philosophical, dialogic form, Plato is also highly conscious of altering the medium as well as the content. The new “myths” will not be in verse; the all-absorbing poetic “fascination” or “charm” will yield to the selfscrutiny of the dialogue form. The relation between speaker and listener will no longer lie outside the literary work in the live oral performance, but will be internalized within the work itself; it will become itself a subject for reflection, examination, irony, humor. Carried to a new and unprecedented scale in the ten books of the Republic, the dialogue form emulates the all-embracing range and authority of epic, but destroys the flow of the poetry and thereby destroys also the possibility of the uncritical acceptance of established norms. The new, philosophical “epic” will explore, not codify or transmit; it claims epic seriousness and even heroic status for its material, but not the epic finality of a closed, perfected tradition. It will be prescriptive, not descriptive. It will reach beyond familiar values and the time-sanctioned lore of the past to new ideas, new norms. Hence the unity of the relation between singer and listener in the recitation of oral epic - a fusion and total participation in the rhythmical chant of the narrative - gives way to a less comfortable, less predictable, and far more self-conscious relation of questioner and respondent. The unpredictability and aesthetic “discomfort” of the form parallels the unpredictability, the spirit of exploration, of the content. It is with Segal’s words in mind, then, that we turn to Socrates’ preeminent use (or really criticism) of Homeric lexis in the Republic, The Myth of Er. While it is supremely odd that Plato should conclude a work that censors and criticizes Homer and the poets with a myth of his own, we shall see below how such a seeming paradox is, in fact, in keeping with the plan of the entire work. Throughout the Republic, Plato’s Socrates has worked to challenge the authority of poetic and mythic discourse, yet show how poetry can be integrated into philosophic discourse in a way that is both “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος). By concluding the Republic with The Myth of Er, he delivers his final blow to the traditional practice of poetic discourse. He delivers a myth that imitates poetic form and its all-encompassing grasp, yet does so in a philosophic way, if you will. The Myth of Er, as we shall see, overturns the tragic worldview of

511 Homer and the poets, all the while enjoying the prestige and natural authority that mythic discourse enjoys in the ancient Greek world.106

Allusion 41: Plato Rep. 10.614b2 : Homer Od. 9.1-12.453 (Cf. Od. 23.264-284, 310-343) (Cf. Aristotle Rhetoric 3.16.7; Poetics 1454b38-1455a3) & Allusion 42: Plato Rep. 10.614b3 : Homer Od. 10.552-553 Interpretive Context The final allusions to Homer in Plato’s Republic appear at 10.614b2 (Allusion 41) and b3 (Allusion 42) respectively, during Socrates’ introduction to The Myth of Er. He intends to tell the myth, he tells Glaucon, in order to demonstrate that “the prizes, wages, and gifts that a just person receives from gods and humans while he is alive … are nothing in either number or size compared to those that await the just … after death.” (ζῶντι τῷ δικαίῳ παρὰ θεῶν τε καὶ ἀνθρώπων ἆθλα τε καὶ μισθοὶ καὶ δῶρα γίγνεται, Rep. 10.613e6-614a1).107 While the bulk of the Republic, namely Books 2-9, at Glaucon and Adeimantus’ request, has been consumed with Socrates’ defense “of justice itself,” that is to say, regardless of “the prizes, wages, and gifts” that accrue to one on account of a just reputation or (a Sophists’) seeming justice, here 106

For more on this point, see Segal (1978, 329, 331). The mention of “prizes, wages, and gifts” here seems to be reminiscent of the “honors, praises, or prizes” (Τιμαὶ δὲ καὶ ἔπαινοι … καὶ γέρα, Rep. 7.516c8-9, cf. Quotation 18) of the residents of the Cave that a philosopher would reject. The vocabulary in Greek in the respective passages is distinct, of course, but Socrates, as he does throughout The Myth of Er, seems to be recalling an earlier myth from the Republic and presenting it mutatis mutandis so that a poetic idea comes fully in accord with the aims of philosophy. 107

512 Socrates will finally defend justice for its consequences as well. He does so, in fittingly ironic fashion, by evoking the first conventional definition of justice put in the mouth of Cephalus from Republic 1, namely that justice is to give to each what is owed.108 Socrates asks Glaucon, then, to give back what he is owed, namely an opportunity to argue in favor of justice, not just “in and of itself,” but with its reputation intact as well: [Socrates:] “And haven’t we cleared away the various other objections to our argument without having to invoke the rewards and reputations of justice, as you said Homer and Hesiod did? And haven’t we found that justice itself is the best thing for the soul itself, and that the soul – whether it has the ring of Gyges or even it together with the cap of Hades – should do just things? [Glaucon:] “We have. That’s absolutely true.” “Then can there now be any objection, Glaucon, if in addition we return to justice and the rest of virtue both the kind and quantity of wages that they obtain for the soul from human beings and gods, whether in this life or the next?” “None whatever.” “Then will you give me back what you borrowed from me during the discussion?” Glaucon initially misunderstands Socrates’ request – he is after all referring to a “borrowing” that occurred in Book 2.366d of the Republic – but shows his wit once he understands Socrates’ meaning, saying, “It would be unjust of me not to” (Ἀδικοίην μεντἄν, ἔφη, εἰ μή, Rep. 10.612d2). Socrates thus continues: I ask that the reputation justice in fact has among gods and humans be returned to it and that we agree that it does indeed have such a reputation and is entitled to carry off the prizes it gains for someone by making him seem just.109

108

This ironic frame perhaps pervades the whole of The Myth of Er, given that, in a sense, the rewards and punishments allotted in the afterlife are what are owed or appropriate to each individual. Unlike in a poetic account, however, where seeming and false reputations have an effect and where mankind can, in effect, bribe the gods with prayers and incantations, in The Myth of Er the soul’s true relationship to justice is considered. 109 Rep. 10.612d3-7.

513 In what follows, then, in summary fashion, Socrates rifles through the many benefits in this life that a reputation for justice affords (cf. Rep. 10.612a-614a), asserting them rather than defending them through dialectic.110 Either such benefits are self-evident, and so Socrates abandons careful philosophic justification of his assertions, or else they are designed to convince a nonphilosophically inclined audience, those who prefer to consume opinions about justice passively.111 At any rate, in a final, definitive move away from dialectic, Socrates embarks on The Myth of Er. Before Socrates’ relates the myth, he tells Glaucon that it will not be “a tale of Alcinous” (Rep. 10.614b2, Allusion 41), an ancient name for the story Odysseus tells to King Alcinous and the Phaeacians about his fantastic journeys following the Trojan War – his encounters with Polyphemus, the Lystrygonians, Circe, Scylla, Charybdis, and, among other episodes, his

110

On this point, see N. White (1979, ad 612a-b). The abandonment of philosophic argument here is not only a precursor to the final myth of The Dialogue – The Myth of Er – but also perhaps a natural function of the way in which Socrates has contextualized his “arguments,” by evoking the conventional, non-philosophic definition of justice, “to give to each what is owed.” 111 Recall that Glaucon points out to Socrates that his opinion that justice is both pursued for its own sake and “for the sake of the wages and whatever else comes out of them” (Rep. 2.357d1-2) is quite unusual. He says at Rep. 2.358a4-6: “This isn’t the opinion of the many. They’d say that justice belongs to the onerous kind, and is practiced for the sake of the rewards and popularity that come from a reputation for justice, but is to be avoided because of itself as something burdensome.” Compare Adeimantus on a similar point at Rep. 2.362e4-363a3: “When fathers speak to their sons, they say that one must be just, as do all the others who have charge of anyone. But they don’t praise justice itself, only the high reputations it leads to and the consequences of being thought to be just.” Adeimantus elaborates further on the point that such opinions originate with the poets: Besides this, Socrates, consider another form of argument about justice and injustice employed both by private individuals and by poets. All go on repeating with one voice that justice and moderation are fine things, but hard and onerous, while licentiousness and injustice are sweet and easy to acquire and are shameful only in opinion and law. They add that unjust deeds are for the most part more profitable than just ones, and, whether in public or private, they willingly honor vicious people who have wealth and other types of power and declare them to be happy. (Rep. 2.363e5-8)

514 journey to the Underworld – a narrative that occupies Books 9-12 of the Odyssey.112 The narrative, also commonly referred to as Odysseus’ apologoi, is given an ironic frame in Homer. Odysseus asserts that listening to a bard is “a good thing” (καλὸν, Od. 9.3, cf. Paraphrase 1 & Quotation 4) and praises the pleasures of the bard’s song,113 but says that recalling his own tale will only give him grief. Socrates’ allusion to Odyssey 9-12 operates on many levels, all of which will be explored in detail under Interpretation. Suffice it to say for the moment, however, that in the same way that “Socrates’ Iliad” offers a wholesale revision of Homeric lexis, and a means to put poetry in the service of philosophy explicitly, The Myth of Er will act similarly in respect to traditional Homeric and poetic muthoi. In this myth, once and for all, the lying tales of the poets will be replaced with a philosophically revised vision of the afterlife where human choice governs fate, rather than the whims of an (unjust) deity (or an unenlightened political authority), and where the just are rewarded and the unjust are punished.114

112

It is possible that “The Tale of Alcinous” had even slightly broader dimensions than Odyssey 9-12. When Aristotle names the tale at Poetics 1455a (ἐν Ἀλκίνου ἀπολόγῳ), he is referring to Od. 8.521, which comes immediately before the start of Odysseus’ narrative proper in Book 9. 113 There is perhaps a Homeric echo in Plato’s text concerning Odysseus’ positive characterization of song from Odyssey 9 above. Glaucon is eager to hear Socrates’ apologoi about the good things that await the just in the afterlife, saying “there aren’t many things that would be more pleasant to hear” (Rep. 10.614b1). 114 For a compelling interpretation of the relationship between the “Noble Lie” and the Myth of Er, see Deneen (2000, 102-3), who argues that whereas in the “Noble Lie” inequalities among citizens have a “divine sanction,” in The Myth of Er they are largely the result of human choice. Likewise, Halliwell (1988, ad 614b2) points out that while Socrates uses myth here, “after the critique of poetry earlier in the book, Plato is here signaling the difference between his own ‘myth’, which he offers for its philosophical symbolism, and the false myths of Homer and other poets.” It should be noted here, in addition, the way in which The Myth of Er, unlike the tales of the poets, abides by Socrates’ tupoi for poetic stories. Thus, while Socrates uses myth, he uses it ironically to revise the traditional poetic stories about the underworld.

515 Socrates’ interest here in merging philosophical concerns with poetic form seems even to be evident in the pun with which The Myth is introduced. He says he will not tell “a Tale of Alcinous” (Ἀλκίνου γε ἀπόλογον, b2), but that “of a brave man” (ἀλκίμου, b3, Allusion 42), Er, here clearly playing with the similarity of the words Ἀλκίνου and ἀλκίμου. Halliwell suggests that Socrates means to replace Odysseus here, a traditional poetic paradigm of strength and endurance, with a new philosophic one.115 C. D. C. Reeve sees yet an additional level to the pun, and one that further develops the philosophy-poetry contrast.116 Etymologically breaking down the respective parts of Ἀλκίνου and ἀλκίμου, he argues that Socrates, by replacing the compound Ἀλκ(ή), “strength” and νόος, “understanding” with ἀλκίμου, ἀλκ(ή) “strength” and μοῦ(σα) “Muse,” suggests that his tale will not “[show] strength of understanding” – which I suppose was the purpose of the philosophic parts of the dialogue – “but … [to show] the strength of the Muse of storytelling.”117 B. D. Turner’s reading of Socrates’ play on words serves as a useful complement to Reeve’s interpretation. He argues that Aristotle uses the phrase “A Tale of Alcinous” in his Rhetoric to denote a story that is not so much excessively long but one that is tailored in such a way that it is emotionally effective in court. In this way, Turner argues, Socrates is saying, “[I shall tell] no idle tale to amuse, but the history of a brave man.”118 The interpretations of Socrates’ puns on the word ἀλκίμου put forth by Halliwell, Reeve, Turner, and others undoubtedly have merit. Indeed, the very ambiguity of the pun and its varying interpretations may have been intended by Plato. As Turner himself points out, the Greeks of the 115

Halliwell 1988, ad 614b2-3. Reeve [1988] 2006, ad 614b n. 25. 117 On puns that use the word νόος in the Republic, see Bloom (1991, 471 n. 13). For further analysis of this pun that mirrors the reading of Reeve [1988] 2006 and Halliwell (1988), see Seery (1990, 135) and Deneen (2000, 102). See also a similar punning of a proper name at Symposium 185c4: Παυσανίου δὲ παυσαμένου. 118 Turner 1889, ad 614b. 116

516 Classical Era, and Plato in particular, had no shortage of interest in puns.119 What these commentators, however, do not point out is that, beyond the sophisticated word play Socrates exploits with his use of ἀλκίμου, the word has a clear Homeric ring to it, a ring that would have been obvious to Plato’s contemporaries. ἄλκιμος is frequently used in Homer, nearly 50 times in all, to describe all manner of weaponry and especially the heroes themselves.120 Besides Xenophon, who seems quite fond of the word, ἄλκιμος does not appear anywhere else in Attic prose. Attic prose prefers ἀνδρεία – a word that appears nowhere in Homer – and its cognates, like the adjective ἀνδρεῖος to describe the entire semantic range of the concept of courage.121 The passage in question in Plato contains the only use of ἄλκιμος in his entire corpus. I argue that Plato uses the word, in addition to its punning possibilities, both to recall a specific Homeric character he wishes to contrast with the “valiant” warrior Er, namely Elpenor, a man described by Homer as “not over valiant [ἄλκιμος, 553] in war” (cf. Od. 10.552-53) – an interpretation we shall develop below under Interpretation – and to show that his disavowal of telling a Homeric tale is not altogether earnest. He will still tell a tale about “a valiant man,” just like Homer, but he will do so in a philosophically revised manner. In other words, in the same way as he appropriates Homeric diction with his use of ἄλκιμος, he will exploit Homeric mythic form to make a philosophic point. Socrates, or rather the author Plato, realizes that he is attempting to persuade an audience who has been raised on Homer of his new, philosophic understanding of justice. If he is going to

119

See Turner (1889, ad 614b), who puts it precisely in this way: “The Greeks seem to have taken pleasure even in the most laboured puns.” 120 This point is developed further below under Interpretation. 121 ἀνδρεία and its cognates appear no less than forty-five times in the Republic alone.

517 challenge Homer’s tragic view of life,122 where the afterlife is meaningless or else a place of punishment, where justice is only a matter of seeming and the Good in life is distributed willynilly by gods who are themselves unjust in a philosophic sense of the word, he can do so most effectively by turning the poetic art against itself. As Dennis J. Schmidt puts it quite succinctly,123 “This passage [i.e. The Myth of Er] needs to be viewed as an answer to Homer.” Original Context Allusions 41-42 Plato Rep. 10.613e6-614b8 Ἃ μὲν τοίνυν, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, ζῶντι τῷ δικαίῳ παρὰ θεῶν τε καὶ ἀνθρώπων ἆθλά τε καὶ μισθοὶ καὶ δῶρα γίγνεται πρὸς ἐκείνοις τοῖς ἀγαθοῖς οἷς αὐτὴ παρείχετο ἡ δικαιοσύνη, τοιαῦτ’ ἂν εἴη. Καὶ μάλ’, ἔφη, καλά τε καὶ βέβαια. Ταῦτα τοίνυν, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, οὐδέν ἐστι πλήθει οὐδὲ μεγέθει πρὸς ἐκεῖνα ἃ τελευτήσαντα ἑκάτερον περιμένει· χρὴ δ’ αὐτὰ ἀκοῦσαι, ἵνα τελέως ἑκάτερος αὐτῶν ἀπειλήφῃ τὰ ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγου ὀφειλόμενα ἀκοῦσαι. Λέγοις ἄν, ἔφη, ὡς οὐ πολλὰ ἄλλ’ ἥδιον ἀκούοντι. Ἀλλ’ οὐ μέντοι σοι, ἦν δ’ ἐγώ, [(41) Ἀλκίνου γε ἀπόλογον] ἐρῶ, ἀλλ’ [(42) ἀλκίμου] μὲν ἀνδρός, Ἠρὸς τοῦ Ἀρμενίου, τὸ γένος Παμφύλου· ὅς ποτε ἐν πολέμῳ τελευτήσας, ἀναιρεθέντων δεκαταίων τῶν νεκρῶν ἤδη διεφθαρμένων, ὑγιὴς μὲν ἀνῃρέθη, κομισθεὶς δ’ οἴκαδε μέλλων θάπτεσθαι δωδεκαταῖος ἐπὶ τῇ πυρᾷ κείμενος ἀνεβίω, ἀναβιοὺς δ’ ἔλεγεν ἃ ἐκεῖ ἴδοι.

614

5

b

5

[Socrates:] “Then these are the prizes, wages, and gifts that a just person receives from gods and humans while he is alive and that are added to the good things that justice itself provides.” [Glaucon:] “Yes, and they’re very fine and secure ones too.” “Yet they’re nothing in either number or size compared to those that await just and unjust people after death. And these things must also be heard, if both are to receive in full what they are owed by the argument.” 122

Recall here Socrates’ own characterization of Homer as leader of the writers of tragedy at Rep. 10.598d8. 123 Schmidt 2001, 40.

518 “Then tell us about them, for there aren’t many things that would be more pleasant to hear.” “It isn’t, however, [(41) a tale of Alcinous] that I’ll tell you but that of a [(42) valiant] Pamphylian man called Er, the son of Armenias, who once died in war.” Allusion 42 Homer Od. 10.546-565 αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ δώματ᾽ ἰὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους μειλιχίοις ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον· “‘μηκέτι νῦν εὕδοντες ἀωτεῖτε γλυκὺν ὕπνον, ἀλλ᾽ ἴομεν· δὴ γάρ μοι ἐπέφραδε πότνια Κίρκη.’ “ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δ᾽ ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ. οὐδὲ μὲν οὐδ᾽ ἔνθεν περ ἀπήμονας ἦγον ἑταίρους. Ἐλπήνωρ δέ τις ἔσκε νεώτατος, οὔτε τι λίην [ἄλκιμος] ἐν πολέμῳ οὔτε φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἀρηρώς· ὅς μοι ἄνευθ᾽ ἑτάρων ἱεροῖς ἐν δώμασι Κίρκης, ψύχεος ἱμείρων, κατελέξατο οἰνοβαρείων. κινυμένων δ᾽ ἑτάρων ὅμαδον καὶ δοῦπον ἀκούσας ἐξαπίνης ἀνόρουσε καὶ ἐκλάθετο φρεσὶν ᾗσιν ἄψορρον καταβῆναι ἰὼν ἐς κλίμακα μακρήν, ἀλλὰ καταντικρὺ τέγεος πέσεν· ἐκ δέ οἱ αὐχὴν ἀστραγάλων ἐάγη, ψυχὴ δ᾽ Ἄϊδόσδε κατῆλθεν. “ἐρχομένοισι δὲ τοῖσιν ἐγὼ μετὰ μῦθον ἔειπον· ‘φάσθε νύ που οἶκόνδε φίλην ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν ἔρχεσθ᾽· ἄλλην δ᾽ ἧμιν ὁδὸν τεκμήρατο Κίρκη, εἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης ψυχῇ χρησομένους Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο.’

550

555

560

565

But I went through the halls, and roused my men with gentle words, coming up to each man in turn. “‘No longer now sleep, and drowse in sweet slumber, but let us go; queenly Circe has told me all.’ “So I spoke, and their proud hearts consented. But not even from thence could I lead my men unscathed. There was one, Elpenor, the youngest of all, not over [valiant] in war nor sound of understanding, who had laid him down apart from his comrades in the sacred house of Circe, seeking the cool air, for he was heavy with wine. He heard the noise and the bustle of his comrades as they moved about, and suddenly sprang up, and forgot to go to the long ladder that he might come down again, but fell headlong from the roof, and his neck was broken away from the spine, and his spirit went down to the house of Hades. “But as my men were going on their way I spoke among them, saying: ‘You think, in truth, that you are going to your dear native land; but Circe has pointed out for us another journey, even to the house of Hades and dread Persephone, to consult the spirit of Theban Tiresias.” Cross-References

519 Aristotle Rhetoric 3.16.6-7 [6] ἀπολογουμένῳ δὲ ἐλάττων ἡ διήγησις· αἱ γὰρ ἀμφισβητήσεις ἢ μὴ γεγονέναι ἢ μὴ βλαβερὸν εἶναι ἢ μὴ ἄδικον ἢ μὴ τηλικοῦτον, ὥστε περὶ τὸ ὁμολογούμενον οὐ διατριπτέον, ἐὰν μή τι εἰς ἐκεῖνο συντείνῃ, οἷον εἰ πέπρακται, ἀλλ᾽ οὐκ ἄδικον. [7] ἔτι πεπραγμένα δεῖ λέγειν ὅσα μὴ πραττόμενα ἢ οἶκτον ἢ δείνωσιν φέρει· παράδειγμα [ὁ Ἀλκίνου ἀπόλογος,] ὃς πρὸς τὴν Πηνελόπην ἐν ἑξήκοντα ἔπεσιν πεποίηται, καὶ ὡς Φάϋλλος τὸν κύκλον, καὶ ὁ ἐν τῷ Οἰνεῖ πρόλογος. In defense, the narrative need not be so long; for the points at issue are either that the fact has not happened or that it was neither injurious nor wrong nor so important as asserted, so that one should not waste time over what all are agreed upon, unless anything tends to prove that, admitting the act, it is not wrong. Again, one should only mention such past things as are likely to excite pity or indignation if described as actually happening; for instance, [the Tale of Alcinous,] because in the presence of Penelope it is reduced to sixty lines,124 and the way in which Phayllus dealt with the epic cycle,125 and the prologue to the Oeneus.126 Aristotle Poetics 1454b38-1455a3 ἡ τρίτη διὰ μνήμης, τῷ αἰσθέσθαι τι ἰδόντα, ὥσπερ ἡ ἐν Κυπρίοις τοῖς Δικαιογένους, ἰδὼν γὰρ τὴν γραφὴν ἔκλαυσεν, καὶ ἡ ἐν [Ἀλκίνου ἀπολόγῳ,] ἀκούων γὰρ τοῦ κιθαριστοῦ καὶ μνησθεὶς ἐδάκρυσεν, ὅθεν ἀνεγνωρίσθησαν. The third kind [of recognition scene] is due to memory, to showing distress on seeing something. An example of this is the scene in the Cyprians by Dicaeogenes; on seeing the picture he burst into tears: and again in the [Tale of Alcinous,] hearing the minstrel he remembered and burst into tears; and thus they were recognized. Interpretation To treat Allusion 42 first, then, by using the term ἀλκίμου, Socrates is almost certainly making a veiled allusion to Homer’s Elpenor. I have largely adopted this reading from the work of Dennis

124

Od. 23.264-284, 310-343. The identity of this Phayllus is unknown. It is clear, however, that he must have condensed or summarized the epic cycle in some way. 126 A lost play of Euripides from which a few fragments survive. We are to assume that the prologue to the play was brief. 125

520 MacDonald,127 who is the first and only scholar to have realized the many points of contact between Homer’s Elpenor – the “not-valiant” (οὔτε τι λίην ἄλκιμος, Od. 10.552-3) – and Plato’s “valiant” (ἀλκίμου, Rep. 10.614b3) Er. While MacDonald does not point out the similarity in the spelling of the two characters’ names, that is certainly a fine place to start: consider E(lpeno)r or in Greek Ἐ(λπήνω)ρ. All that is necessary to move from one name to the other is to drop out or add the middle syllables. At any rate, then, first let us consider Elpenor’s role in Odysseus’ apologoi. Elpenor is characterized in a most un-heroic fashion, as young, drunken, cowardly, foolish, and forgetful (cf. Od. 10.552-558), the very antithesis of those heroes who, in the Iliad, are characterized as ἄλκιμος, men like Diomedes and Patroclus.128 Whereas in the Iliad ἄλκιμος is used fairly frequently to describe heroes, in the Odyssey Elpenor is the only person in the entire epic described as such, albeit negatively, as one who is not ἄλκιμος. As a sort of anti-hero, then, Elpenor’s life ends in foolish fashion. “Heavy with wine” (οἰνοβαρείων, Od. 10.555), he rolls off of Circe’s roof to his death, only to request a proper burial when Odysseus meets him as a shade in the Underworld in Book 11. If we take the Myth of Er – as most commentators do –129 as most closely associated with Odysseus’ account of the Underworld of all the episodes in the apologoi, a veiled reference to Elpenor is altogether expected in Plato, given his central role in this entire episode. The argument that Er is meant to be a new, philosophic Elpenor is yet more compelling when we consider the parallels between both men, as pointed out by MacDonald. Both men are 127

MacDonald 1994. See ἄλκιμος used to characterize Diomedes Il. 6.437, Meges Il. 10.110, Patroclus Il. 11.605, 814, 837, 12.1, 16.278, 307, 626, 665, 827, 18.455, 19.24, Ajax Il. 12.349, and Automedes Il. 17.429. 129 Halliwell 1988, ad. 614b2; Woodward 2007, 232. 128

521 young soldiers, who remain unburied after death, after which their souls travel to the Underworld. But whereas Er was almost burned and buried at dawn, Elpenor asks that he be burned and buried at dawn. Thereafter Elpenor’s soul finds rest, while Er is reincarnated. Odysseus, then, returns from the Underworld to tell Elpenor’s story, whereas in Plato, Er himself, through the vehicle of Socrates, tells his own story. In this way, as MacDonald puts it, Socrates “recast[s] [Elpenor’s] tragic role …into that of Er … to give a more satisfactory account of the afterlife than had Homer’s Odysseus.”130 He uses a key figure in Odysseus’ katabasis to borrow from Homer, but to do so in such a way that Homer is replaced or, in a sense, superseded. To treat Allusion 41, then, as noted above, Socrates’ allusion to Odysseus’ “Tale of Alcinous” works on many levels. Perhaps on the most basic level, Socrates simply means that his own muthos will not be excessively long.131 As many commentators have pointed out,132 in antiquity “a tale of Alcinous” was an expression used to designate narratives that were undesirably long, an interpretation corroborated by Aristotle and other ancient sources (cf. CrossReferences above).133 Even this aspect of the allusion to Odysseus’ tale, however, is somewhat playful, as Bernard Suzanne remarks, “there is some irony on the part of Plato, at the end of the

130

MacDonald 1994, 7. Sworder (2004, 129), who argues that Socrates’ disavowal that his tale is Homeric arises out of modesty, out of “a sense of his own prosaic shortcomings,” reads the allusion a bit too literally. There is a hint of modesty certainly – Plato respects his poetic “opponent,” if you will – but with this modesty, there is a fair measure of pretense and irony as well. 132 Adam [1902] 2010, ad loc.; Freese 1926, ad loc.; Shorey [1969] 1982, ad loc.; Deneen 2000, 102; Ferrari 2000, ad 614b n. 24; R. E. Allen 2006, ad 614b n. 22. 133 For a full account of other ancient sources referring to the apologoi, see Most (1989, 20 n. 24). 131

522 ten dense books of discussion that make up the Republic, to warn the reader that what is to come should not be too long!”134 It is fairly clear, however, that there is much more to Socrates’ allusion here than the question of its relative length.135 More important – as was the case with his prose version of the Iliad (cf. Paraphrase 6) – Socrates says his story will not be “a tale of Alcinous” to make it clear that his tale will not be Homeric in nature,136 that is, not only in terms of content and style, narrative and otherwise, but naturally in terms of origin. There is some good evidence, which it does not serve our purposes here to repeat in detail, that Socrates’ tale has certain Near-Eastern and Pythagorean and Orphic influences.137 The important thing to stress here is that if Socrates’ tale has earlier influences, they are not Homeric. In so doing, Plato circumvents Homeric authority. In terms of narrative, then, as John Evan Seery points out, Socrates adopts a mode of “indirect speech”:138 For the first time in the entire book – and the difference is striking – Plato (though still playing the reporter) … abandon[s] the pretext that he is directly reporting dialogue, with “no words between the speeches” (394b), for now he reports Socrates’ report of Er’s narrative.

134

Suzanne, Bernard http://plato-dialogues.org/tetra_4/republic/gyges.htm “The Ring of Gyges” Nov. 22, 1998, accessed Nov. 5, 2010. 135 See Halliwell (1988, ad 614b2), who in essence dismisses the importance of an allusion to length at all: “that suggestion, if present at all here, is subordinate to the philosophy – poetry contrast.” See also Deneen (2000, 102), who downgrades generally the import of this aspect of the allusion. 136 For more on this point, see esp. Seery (1988, 241). 137 In this regard, see esp. Halliwell (1988, ad loc.) with further bibliography there. 138 Seery 1988, 242. See also Baracchi (2002, 106) on the implications of Socrates’ indirect narrative form.

523 Unlike in the Odyssey, where the line between character and poet is blurred, in the Republic, Socrates, as was the case in his prose Iliad, never completely gives himself over to a poetic identity. He reports Er’s tale indirectly, at a distance from the primary source.139 Unlike Odysseus, who relates his own journey, his own struggle in going to the Underworld and back, Socrates will relate the tale of another. And while his tale will likewise involve a journey to the Underworld and a return, his purpose in telling the tale is not to please his listeners, or to reveal his identity, or even to pay a debt of hospitality, as with Odysseus, but to explain, beyond earthly prizes and rewards, what other benefits await a just man in the afterlife, and conversely, what punishments await an unjust man. In terms of content, Socrates’ myth is quite unlike anything to be found in Homer. Aside from the mathematical nature of some parts of the myth, and the Orphic and Pythagorean influences, Socrates treats some traditional figures from myth in an unusual or novel way, most strikingly the Fates.140 In Plato, Lachesis, Clotho, and Atropus abandon their normal functions of spinning, measuring, and cutting and instead sit as judges in the afterlife, in place of Minos, Rhadamanthys, and Aeacus, as they judge the past, present, and future respectively (cf. Rep. 10.612a). The Sirens – figures from Odysseus’ apologoi – function in a most unusual way in Socrates’ myth as well. Eight of them revolve around “the Spindle of Necessity,” (cf. Rep. 10.617b4-5) each singing a single note, which taken together “produce a single harmony” (Rep.

139

For the irony of Socrates’ indirect report in a dialogue that stresses the value of the original over the imitative copy, see Seery (1988, 242-3). 140 For Socrates’ novel usage of other traditional mythic elements in The Myth of Er, see Halliwell (1988), Bloom (1991), and Woodward (2007, 132). In this work, see also Allusions 2, 3, 15, and 19. Segal (1978, 323) notes the parallel between the procession of mythical heroines before Odysseus in Homer and the procession of souls in The Myth of Er.

524 10.617b8). This is quite a change naturally from the beautiful, yet profoundly destructive, singing of the Sirens in the original Homeric myth. The moral dimension of Socrates’ myth is what most sets it apart from anything in Homer. What makes The Myth of Er un-Homeric, a tale that is not “A Tale of Alcinous,” is Socrates’ implicit criticism of Homer’s tragic view of life. In Socrates’ myth, the just are rewarded and the unjust punished. The Myth is the final rejection of Homeric theodicy as raised in Book 2 of the Republic, where Socrates, among other poetic passages, censures Achilles’ view that Zeus allots fate at random from jars sitting outside of his threshold (cf. Quotation 10 & Paraphrase 3). In Socrates’ myth, fate is not something allotted willy-nilly by vicious, mutable deities; rather it is primarily the result of human choice. As Patrick V. Reid says generally of Plato’s moral vision,141 “He wants to insist upon the moral responsibility of each individual for their personal fate … the chooser is responsible and heaven is guiltless.” Thus, whereas in Homer, Odysseus receives actual instructions to aid him in his return home to Ithaca, in The Myth of Er (in the Republic in general), the participant in Socrates’ dialogues discovers how to return his soul to its proper home, how to ascend from one’s earthly home (be it Ithaca or the body) and prepare one’s soul for such a journey by living a just and examined life.

141

Reid 1987, 148. For more on this point, see also Deneen (2000, 102).

CONCLUSION Plato gegen Homer: das ist der ganze, der ächte Antagonismus (Friedrich Nietzsche Zur Genealogie der Moral 3.25) Plato versus Homer, that is the complete, the genuine antagonism.1

1. The New Alliance Between Philosophy and Poetry In the Republic, through the use of citation, Plato engages in a kind of philosophical dialogue with Homer. This use of Homer, or misuse as is often the case, functions in a complex way in the dialogue. On the one hand, Plato’s use of Homer is conventional. Homer, as the “educator of Hellas,” would have been a natural touchstone for any cultured Greek, cited as the Bible is cited, for example, in Shakespeare’s work.2 In this conventional capacity, Homer’s words confer a sort of instant authority to a speaker’s words. They convey an air of polish and refinement, as the speaker shows off his ability to reference his “cultural encyclopedia,”3 in a way that is both inventive and apt.4 Homer was used in this way by Plato’s contemporaries in the courtroom and the schools of the professional rhetoricians and Sophists.5 Such professional speakers, like Plato,

1

I have used the translation of Kaufmann (1969). On Shakespeare’s use of the Bible, see Shaheen (1999). Today it is perhaps impossible to find a text that is universally known by all members of a modern, Western culture. 3 Havelock [1963] 1982, 61-85. For a full treatment of this idea, see n. 24 supra in the Introduction. 4 On this function of poetic citation among the ancient Greeks, see both Tarrant (1951) and Halliwell (2000). 5 See the Introduction, esp. n. 27 supra. 2

525

526 even misused Homer on occasion. They misappropriated the poet’s words, divorcing them from their original poetic context, so that they could use them to prove a philosophical or rhetorical point unrelated to their original, poetic function.6 I have suggested that at times, Plato parodies this kind of misquotation, yet does so for a “noble” purpose – to argue in favor of a philosophic conception of justice, for example – rather than for the purposes of persuasion alone as a Sophist would. There is often an element of play in Socrates’ misquotations. In the first place, by “imitating” or “representing” the words of Homer, he is engaging in mimesis, a form of play (paidia) in Plato, insofar as it contrasts with the “seriousness” (spoudē) of philosophy: “imitation is a kind of game and not something to be taken seriously” (εἶναι παιδιάν τινα καὶ οὐ σπουδὴν τὴν μίμησιν, Rep. 10.602b8).7 As is so often the case in Plato, however, “play” itself can be conducted in a serious way, or rather for a serious end.8 By representing Homer mimetically, by becoming a poet himself by adopting the poet’s words as his own, Plato, by way of his characters, turns “play” (paidia) into “education” (paideia). He transforms Homer’s writing, assimilating it into his own, so that poetry, rather than continuing its “ancient quarrel” with philosophy (cf. Rep. 10.607c), works in conjunction with it. The very act of mimesis, of poetic citation, then, turns enemy into ally. Plato uses Homer’s authority to his advantage as

6

A fine example of this strategy of misquotation in Plato may be found at Republic 4.441b4, a textually accurate quotation of Odyssey 20.17. Here Plato’s Socrates uses Homer “to prove” his tripartite model of the human soul. For a full discussion of this citation, see Quotation 32. The same Homeric passage is put to similar use at Plato Phaedo 94d8-e1. 7 For further examples of such an identification of mimesis with play, see Soph. 234a-b, 235a6, Polit. 288c, and Laws 2.656b3, 656c3, 667d-e, 7.796b, 10.889d1. In modern scholarship, see Halliwell (2002, esp. 63 n. 64), and Spariosu (1984), who offers a useful synopsis of the treatment of mimesis as play among Derrida and his followers. 8 For “serious-play” in Plato, see esp. Desjardins ([1988] 2002) and Statkiewicz (2009).

527 poetry in the dialogue is made to serve the interests of philosophy. Plato himself, then, turns into the very champion of (mimetic) poetry Socrates is seeking at Republic 10.607c4-7: If the poetry that aims at pleasure and imitation [ἡ μίμησις, c5] has any argument to bring forward that proves it ought to have a place in a well-governed city, we at least would be glad to admit it, for we are well aware of the charm [κηλουμένοις, c7] it exercises. By using Homer in a philosophic context, Plato is illustrating the proper way to harness the “pleasure” and “charm” of poetry for “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος) ends, rather than just for pleasure. This situation, as I have pointed out in the Introduction, is analogous to the just harmony struck in the polis and the psyche between reason, emotion, and appetite. The emotional power of poetry is made to serve reason, that is to say, philosophy, to work in harmony with it rather than against it. Plato does this, moreover, by turning the weakness of the written word – the poisonous potential of the written word as pharmakon – into its very own medicine (pharmakon). To understand how Plato does this, we must first examine briefly Socrates’ famous critique of writing from Phaedrus 275d4-e5:9 You know, Phaedrus, writing shares a strange [δεινὸν, d4] feature with painting living things. The offspring of painting stand there as if they are alive [ζῶντα, d6], but if anyone asks them anything, they remain most solemnly silent [σιγᾷ, d6]. The same is true of written words [οἱ λόγοι, d7]. You’d think they were speaking as if they had some understanding [τι φρονοῦντας, d7], but if you question anything that has been said because you want to learn [μαθεῖν, d9] more, it continues to signify just that very same thing forever. When it has once been written down, every discourse roams about everywhere, reaching indiscriminately those with understanding no less than those who have no business with it, and it doesn’t know to whom it should speak and to whom it should not. And when it is faulted and attacked unfairly [οὐκ ἐν δίκῃ, e4], it always needs its father’s [τοῦ πατρὸς, e4] support; alone [αὐτὸς, e5], it can neither defend itself nor come to its own support.

9

On the limits and weakness of the written word, see also the 7th Letter 342a-345c.

528 According to Plato’s Socrates, the act of writing is limited, fundamentally flawed.10 The written word is dead. It is mute in the face of questioning. It cannot engage an interlocutor appropriately or clear up any of his misunderstandings. Worse yet, given its potentially unlimited dissemination, writing is liable to all manner of misinterpretations. In Plato’s use of Homer, then, he exploits the inherent weaknesses of writing – he questions a mute Homer, engages with him in dialogue, and often interprets him in ways that suit his own ends –11 yet he does so in an effort “to rescue” Homer from what he views as a culturewide misinterpretation of the poet. That is to say, if Homer is going to be “the educator of Hellas,” he needs to be interpreted in the right way, through the vehicle of philosophy. Thus, the Republic dramatizes the danger both of receiving Homer passively – as Cephalus does – and the danger of actively misinterpreting him – as Adeimantus and Glaucon do once they take over the Sophist Thrasymachus’ argument – to prove “lies like the truth.” In the end, Homer can only aid an individual or a culture to achieve The Good, if he is examined, questioned, if his authority and the beauty of his poetic expression is harnassed for philosophical ends. Thus, just as the guardians of an ideal polis must work to uphold the rule of the philosopher-kings, and just as one’s emotions must work to uphold the sovereignty of reason, poetry in the Republic is 10

The irony of the fact that such a condemnation of writing is recorded in writing and the fact that Plato is a writer himself has been noted and interpreted many times with varying degrees of success. Many of the most interesting attempts to explain this writing paradox in Plato are contained in a series of essays in Griswold ([1988] 2002). More recently, see also D. Allen (2010). 11 In this way, Plato’s use of Homer is no different than Socrates’ questioning of any other interlocutor. It is not unusual after all for one of Socrates’ interlocutors to be surprised, beguiled, or even angry at the inconsistencies that Socrates draws from, what used to be, their opinions. There are many examples of such exasperation and confusion at Socrates’ “unfair” methods. A few prominent ones include Polus’ complaint after Socrates’ refutation of Gorgias about the “delight” that he takes in finding inconsistency in the opinions of others (Gorg. 461b-c). This, of course, precedes Socrates’ “unfair” or “fallacious” refutation of Polus himself (Gorg. 473 ff.), on which point, see, e.g., Dodds ([1959] 1990, 249).

529 harnessed in such a way that it becomes an ally rather than an enemy of philosophy. As such, Plato censors poetry, exiles it, re-writes it, and revises it to the point that it is both incorporated into a philosophic context and tailored to serve the interests of philosophy. In short, he rescues poetry from the misinterpretation of others through his own false – but noble – mimesis of the poet. In the process, Plato differentiates himself considerably from his contemporaries. Unlike them, the lies he tells about Homer and the violence he does to Homer’s text are noble. To take us back to Chapter 1, every act of mimesis is a lie in a sense because it is at several removes from reality. Indeed, as we have seen, the very act of writing itself is a lie, a flawed approximation of the best form of the word: the living, breathing word of (philosophical) discourse that takes place between teacher and pupil(s).12 As Socrates defines it in the Phaedrus at 276a6-7, such discourse “can defend itself and it knows for whom it should speak and for whom it should remain silent” (δυνατὸς μὲν ἀμῦναι ἑαυτῷ, ἐπιστήμων δὲ λέγειν τε καὶ σιγᾶν πρὸς οὓς δεῖ). As we have seen, however, in Socrates’ treatment of lies, some are particularly hateful – so-called “true lies” – others are, as it is commonly put into English, “noble,” as they concern the unknowable – such as the “true” interpretation of Homer’s words – and discuss them so as to achieve the Good.13 In this way, Plato, in his “representation” or mimesis of Homer, solves his own riddle about the acceptability of mimesis in the ideal republic or human soul. In the end, Homer, seen through the eyes of Plato, is transformed. In his original form, Homer excited the emotions of his (passive) listeners, his poetry glorified figures from 12

As has often been suggested, this helps to explain why Plato wrote philosophical dialogues, being the closest approximation possible of the “living word” and thus a mimesis of a noble subject. 13 See Chapter 1, especially Truth and Falsehood in Poetry and Philosophy and Allusion 1, for a discussion of “lies” in the Republic.

530 mythology like Achilles who had all manner of moral flaws, setting them up as models for the youth to imitate. Furthermore, the very nature of poetry opened it up to all manner of dangerous misuses and misappropriations. In a word, poetry, without philosophy, worked to create psychic and social disharmony. In its new, philosophically revised form, in Plato’s Republic, the words of the bard are transformed, recontextualized, incorporated into the form of philosophic discourse itself. Homer is actively engaged, questioned, interpreted. That in poetry which does not contribute to the Good is discarded or altered (textually or interpretively) until it becomes something “useful” (χρήσιμος) and “beneficial” (ὠφέλιμος). The benefit to philosophy? It now has its greatest enemy as an ally. It takes the beauty and charm of the poetic form, its authority, and uses it for philosophic ends. Thus, Plato is able to do “justice” to poetry, in the end striking a beneficial harmony between it and philosophy.

2. Plato’s Homeric Questions Having outlined the way in which Plato uses Homer in the Republic, there remains one final matter to discuss: the impact that this study will have on the Homeric Question. The importance of this study in that regard is potentially significant. Plato’s text represents an important, early witness to the “text” of Homer, and one, moreover, localized in Athens, considered by many scholars to hold a privileged position in the transmission or “fixing” of the Homeric text.14 This

14

Ancient sources referring to Athens’ role esp. via the influence of the Peisistratids and the Panathenaic Festival include Ps-Plato (Hipparchus 228b-c), Isocrates (Panegyr. 159), Lycurgus (Against Leocrates 102), Cicero (De or. 3.137), and Dieuchidas of Megara (FGH 485 F 6, via Diogenes Laertius 1.57). For a nuanced handling of the problem of Athens’ role with regard to the Homeric Question, see Nagy (1996b, Chapter 4), who there and elsewhere prefers to view the

531 study, moreover, both improves and expands upon the work of Labarbe, long the standard text on Plato’s citations of Homer,15 and builds off the advances in this field made by Tarrant, Lohse, Benardete, Halliwell, Clay, and Mitscherling.16 For this study to realize fully its potential impact on the Homeric Question, however, it needs first to be expanded to consider all of the Homeric citations in Plato’s corpus. Only then can the conclusions arrived at in necessarily preliminary fashion here be stated in more definitive fashion. Furthermore, Plato’s Homeric citations need to be compared with the Homeric citations of other authors from antiquity. On both counts, the scholarly work is far outdated. The last comparative study of ancient authors’ Homeric citations, for example, is dated from 1895: G. E.

Homeric text as “crystallizing” or undergoing a phase of “quasi-textualization” in Athens. He is non-committal to the idea of an Athenian archetypal text, yet does write that “my main argument is that the city of Athens in general and the Panathenaic Festival in particular were two decisive historical factors in the gradual shaping of what became the definitive forms of the Iliad and Odyssey, starting with the sixth century BC” (173). Other scholars, namely Ludwich (1898), van Groningen (1963), and van Thiel (1991) argue quite strongly in favor of an Athenian archetypal text. See also Jensen (1980, esp. 109-10), who goes so far as to argue that Homer’s poems were orally dictated at the request of Peisistratus and that these texts served as the basis of the textual work of the Alexandrian scholars. Other scholars arguing in favor of an “Athenian” or “Peisistratean Recension” include Merkelback (1952), Erbse (1959, 301), Lohse (1967, 23 n 14), S. West (1988, 36-40), and Janko (1992, 29-32, 37), and to a somewhat lesser extent Davison (1962, 219-20, 225). On the other side of the debate are those scholars (primarily of an earlier age) who downplay Athenian influence (cf. R. Knight 1820; Scott 1914). See Steiner (2010, 33), who sees the “myth” of Athenian importance in the preservation and transmission of Homer a direct result of Peisistratean propaganda. For more on the debate, see also Sealey (1957, 34251), Seaford (1994, 144-54), I. Cook (1995, 5), Nagy (1996a, 69-71, 77, 80-2, 111-2, 122-5, 1424, 180, 189), and Scodel (2002, 54-5). 15 Labarbe 1949. For my critique of Labarbe, see the Introduction, Labarbe’s L’Homère de Platon. There I reiterate the view, mirrored by other scholars, that despite sound textual work, Labarbe is not sensitive enough to the spirit of parody, burlesque, and irony in Plato’s citations of Homer. 16 My debt to the work of such scholars is detailed in the Introduction, esp. Variant Readings: Text and Context.

532 Howes’ “Homeric Quotations in Plato and Aristotle.”17 The last work that studied the Homeric citations of authors from the fourth and fifth century in any kind of systematic fashion was published in 1898, Arthur Ludwich’s Die Homervulgata. Both of these works are quite valuable, but contain major shortcomings as well. Howes, for example, identifies only a slight portion of all of Aristotle and Plato’s citations. He, like Ludwich, also does not complete his work with the benefit of the publication of certain, key discoveries of Homeric papyri or the groundbreaking work on oral poetics initiated by Lord and Parry. Thus, while the work of Ludwich in particular has been advanced in piecemeal fashion,18 much of this work, while sound in many ways, is plagued by the sort of dogmatism that dominates Homeric studies today. Those scholars who are in favor of Nagy’s “evolutionary model”19 tend to take variants in secondary texts like Plato as evidence of a lively “oral tradition” and tend to challenge even the very legitimacy of the word “variant” as it implies the existence of a fixed text or a single “real” Vulgate from which all other texts derive. Those scholars on the

17

While Howes does not draw an explicit comparison between the “accuracy” of Plato’s and Aristotle’s Homeric citations, it is fairly clear, as many scholars have pointed out since, that Aristotle’s text is substantially different from our vulgate (cf., e.g., Lamberton 1997, 33), though we must understand, as Howes is wise to point out, that Aristotle, like Plato, “occasionally refers to verses without intending to give the exact words” (237). Haslam (1997, 77) further theorizes that some textual differences (esp. in the case of entirely unattested phrasings) may be the result of Aristotle engaging in some rhapsodic composition of his own, creating novel phrases out of common formulaic pieces. In the end, however, the prevailing opinion among scholars is best summed up by Mahaffy (1895, 31): “The quotations from Homer to be found through Aristotle are numerous, and differ remarkably from our texts, while those made by Plato are according to our text.” On poetic quotation generally in Aristotle, see Perlman (1964, 163-4) and Roe (2007, 44 ff.). 18 Important early criticisms of Ludwich’s work appear in Grenfell (1906, 68-75) and T. Allen (1924, 249-70). See also the work of Perlman (1964, esp. 162 ff.) and most recently that of Haslam (1997, 74-8) and the author-specialized studies cited below. 19 For a discussion of Nagy’s “evolutionary theory,” see the Introduction, esp .n. 62 supra. Dué in particular has done much to advance the theories of Nagy through the co-editorship of “The Homer Multitext” project and a series of articles (esp. 2001 and 2003).

533 other side of the debate take the same evidence to prove their own model of Homeric composition and transmission. They downplay the importance of textual variants. Rather than considering them as evidence of a legitimate, alternate textual tradition, they deem such variants as false “interpolations,” deviants from the true readings of an earlier “Vulgate,” however they may define that term.20 Marchinus van der Valk is perhaps the only scholar currently to have in some ways successfully bridged the gap between these two camps, positing a simultaneous fixed written tradition for the text and an oral one.21 While I admire and am even sympathetic to van der Valk’s way of thinking, ultimately the Homeric Question is still argued about along philosophic lines, lines that have a curious resemblance to the classic philosophic dispute between Parmenides and Heraclitus. On the one hand are those who insist on a fixed text amidst the flux (Parmenides), on the other, those who insist on fluidity against all claims of a fixed text (Heraclitus). For this reason it is perhaps best to agree with Bernard Grenfell’s century-old and thus prophetic comment: “the fact remains that the history of the Homeric Vulgate prior to 150 BC is still involved in great obscurity, and dogmatism of any kind is to be deprecated.”22 Put simply, Homer’s text exhibited a certain degree of flux based on time and place. Now, depending upon the emphasis we put on such material, we can interpret this to mean either that fourth- and fifth-century authors were quoting a text that was the direct antecedent of our vulgate or one that showed enough variance (combined with that same practice later on a larger scale) to prove that no such vulgate existed. For this reason, in this study, I have sought as much as possible to base my final conclusions on numerical data. In the end, to conclude that Plato’s 20

See Haslam (1997, 63 ff.) and Nagy (1997, 114-5) on the evolution and multiple meanings of the term “vulgate” as it applies to Homeric studies. 21 Van der Valk 1964. See also Foley (1990, 6-9), Bakker (1993, 10-2), and Collins (2001, esp.161), who seems to arrive at this conclusion independently. 22 Grenfell 1906, 73.

534 text is about 95 percent in accord with our vulgate – perhaps more if we accept my interpretation of various textual differences that I deem “intentional” – seems to be strong evidence that Plato’s text of Homer was quite similar to our own. 95 percent agreement, however, only becomes significant when we compare it to other sources. For example, to what extent do the Medieval manuscripts that make up the basis of our modern vulgate agree with one another? How do other authors’ citations from antiquity compare?23 What about papyri? The answer to such questions is far beyond the scope of this study, yet the answer to such questions is at the heart of beginning to make new inroads into answering the Homeric Question. What we can say, however, in preliminary fashion, is that Plato appears to have known a text far more like our vulgate than other authors from antiquity.24 His text, moreover, does not display the sort of extreme

23

On the whole, as we shall see below, such citations compare quite poorly to those in Plato. See the discussion of Aristotle’s quotations in n. 17 supra. 24 Even in making a statement such as this, however, we must understand that we are comparing a wealth of material on the one hand (Plato’s citations) with a relative dearth on the other hand (other prose authors). Further, we know little about these authors’ habits of quotation and their attitude toward the source text. We do not know, for example, if these authors used private or state copies for recitation in court or if, on occasion, they simply recited from memory. At any rate, besides Aristotle, Aeschines and Lycurgus’ Homeric citations are important subjects for study, given that they are near contemporaries of Plato, writing in Athens. In the case of Aeschines, we have five Homeric citations, one of which, at 15 lines, is the longest continuous Homeric quotation from antiquity (Against Tim. 103 : Il. 22.77-91). This citation in particular has received a great deal of scholarly attention (cf., e.g., Dorjahn 1927, 86-7; Perlman 1964, 162; Haslam 1997, 74-7; Lamberton 1997, 33). This citation appears to be much less faithful to our vulgate than Plato’s citations as it features two plus-verses, two half-lines that vary, and one verse in different order, not to mention some other minor dialectical and orthographic differences. In the case of Lycurgus, due to the poor survival of Lycurgus itself, our material is even less substantial in size: a mere five Homeric lines (Against Leocrates 103 : Il. 15.494-9). Like Aeschines, his Homeric text shows similar infidelities, including one new word, one new phrase, one misordered phrase, and one Atticism. For a survey of this material, see Dorjahn (1927, 88), Perlman (1964, 162), and Haslam (1997, 77 n. 57). It is a shame that more of Lycurgus’ speeches do not survive. Unlike Demosthenes, who never cites Homer, for example, Lycurgus seemed to have a strong interest in him and the poets in general even at the level of text,

535 variations we witness in the “eccentric papyri.”25 In the end, despite the relative fluidity of Homer’s text throughout the history of its transmission, Plato’s Homer bears an uncanny, undeniable resemblance to our own vulgate text. Thus, while our primary purpose in this work was to study Plato’s citations of Homer from both an exegetical and a philological perspective, this study has also demonstrated that Plato’s text of Homer was remarkably similar to our own.

especially given his sponsorship of a law to establish a state-text of the tragedians (cf. Plut. Mor. 841f). Other later authors worthy of note for their use of Homeric citation include Strabo, Galen, and Plutarch. On these authors’ use of “eccentric texts,” see West (1967, 15) and Jensen (1980, 107). See Haslam (1997, 77-8) for a somewhat in-depth treatment of Ps.-Plutarch’s Homeric citations in Consolatio ad Apollonium 117d (= Il. 23.222-4), which introduces two plus-verses between 223-4 resembling Il. 17.37 and 9.482 respectively, which are not present in our MSS. See also Haslam (1997, 77) on his theories about how Strabo, Galen, and Plutarch came to possess non-vulgate versions of Homer’s text. It is particularly important to note that while the authors treated above inevitably introduce plus-verses into their Homeric texts, this phenomenon is non-existent in the Republic. This fact is all the more striking considering Ludwich (1898, 140-1), who calculates that on average in the Homeric quotations of authors in the fourth and fifth century, a plus-verse is introduced once every forty-nine lines. 25 The “eccentric” papyri, for example, in contrast to both Plato and other authors from antiquity, introduce a plus-verse once every eight lines (cf. Ludwich 1898, 140-1) along with a full-range of other variations and anamolies.

536

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563

APPENDIX The Appendix lists all of Plato’s Homeric citations from the Republic. It is divided into five sections. Section 1 lists the citations by citation type. Section 2 lists the citations in order by book as they appear in Plato’s text in accord with S. R. Slings’ edition. Section 3 lists the citations in order by book as they appear in Homer’s text in accord with van Thiel’s edition. Section 4 list citations that refer to texts other than or in addition to Homer. These citations are arranged alphabetically by author and text. The final section, Section 5, includes all crossreferenced passages from both Plato and Homer, arranged by book number.

1. Citations according to Type Allusions (A) 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13.

Plato Rep. 2.382d1-3 : Homer Od. 19.203; Hesiod Theogony 26-28 Plato Rep. 10.620a6-7 : Homer Il. 2.594-600 Plato Rep. 10.620b7-c2 : Homer Il. 23.493; 839; Od. 8.493 Plato Rep. 10.612b5 : Homer Od. 5.845; Ps.-Hesiod Shield of Heracles 227 Plato Rep. 6.486b11-12 : Homer Od. 6.120; 8.575; 9.175; 13.201 Plato Rep. 3.388a6; 391c1 : Homer Il. 1.413-418; 495-496; 4.512; 9.410; 13.350; 16.34; 37; 51; 860; 18.54-64; 85-87; 332; 432-435; 19.4; 8; 20.207; 21.189; 24.59; 85 Plato Rep. 3.391c1-2 : Homer Il. 9.252-258; 16.33; 18.18; 85-87; 331; 432-435; 20.206; 21.189; 22.420-421; 24.60-61 Plato Rep. 3.391c1-3 : Homer Il. 21.185 Plato Rep. 3.391c1-3 : Homer Il. 11.827-831; 16.140-144; 19.387-391 Plato Rep. 2.381d5 : Homer Od. 4.456-458 Plato Rep. 2.383a7-8 : Homer Il. 2.1-36 Plato Rep. 2.378d3-4 : Homer Il. 1.589-593 Plato Rep. 2.378d5 : Homer Il. 20.4-75; 21.385-513

564 14. 15. 16. 17.

18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42.

Plato Rep. 2.379e3-5 : Homer Il. 4.64-126 Plato Rep. 10.620b3 : Homer Od. 11.540-564 Plato Rep. 3.387b9 : Homer Od. 10.514 Plato Rep. 3.387b9 : Homer Il. 8.369; 14.271; 15.37; Od. 5.185; 10.514; Hesiod Theogony 361; 383; 776; Homeric Hymn to Demeter 2.259; 423; Homeric Hymn to Apollo 3.85; Homeric Hymn to Hermes 4.519; Bacchylides 11.9 Plato Rep. 3.388b3-4 : Homer Il. 18.23-35; 70-78; 19.4-5; 343-346; 24.44-49; 128-130 Plato Rep. 10.620c2-3 : Homer Il. 2.211-277 Plato Rep. 3.390e5-8 : Homer Il. 9.515-526; 602-605 Plato Rep. 3.390e7-10 : Homer Il. 19.278-281 Plato Rep. 3.390e10-391a1 : Homer Il. 24.501-594 Plato Rep. 3.390b6-7 : Homer Il. 2.1-4 Plato Rep. 3.390b7-c6 : Homer Il. 14.159-360 Plato Rep. 3.390c6-7 : Homer Od. 8.266-369 Plato Rep. 3.404b12-c1 : Homer Il. 9.360 Plato Rep. 3.404b12-c1 : Homer Il. 1.462-466; 2.427-429; 7.316-318; 24.623-624; Od. 3.65-66; 459-462, 470; 12.364-365; 14.430-431; 19.422-423; 20.279-280. Plato Rep. 3.405e1; 406c2-3; 407e4; 408b6 : Homer Il. 2.731; 4.194; 4.204; 11.518; 11.614; 14.2 Plato Rep. 3.405e1-2 : Homer Il. 11.582-584 Plato Rep. 3.405e2-406a2; 408b1-2 : Homer Il. 11.638-641 Plato Rep. 3.406a2; 408a7 : Homer Il. 11.842-848 Plato Rep. 3.408a3-4 : Homer Il. 4.134-140 Plato Rep. 3.391b1 : Homer Il. 21.214-227 Plato Rep. 3.391b1-2 : Homer Il. 21.233-327 Plato Rep. 3.391b2-3 : Homer Il. 23.142-149 Plato Rep. 3.391b5-6 : Homer Il. 22.396-404; 463-465; 23.21; 187; 24.14-18; 51-52; 416417 Plato Rep. 3.391b6 : Homer Il. 18.336-337; 23.22-23; 164-177; 181-182 Plato Rep. 3.392e3-4, 393a7-b2 : Homer Il. 1.15-21 Plato Rep. 3.392e4 : Homer Il. 1.24-32 Plato Rep. 3.392e4-393a1, 393a7-b2 : Homer Il. 1.35-42 Plato Rep. 10.614b2 : Homer Od. 9.1-12.453 Plato Rep. 10.614b3 : Homer Od. 10.552-553

565 Disputed Citations (DC) 1. 2. 3.

Plato Rep. 2.362d6 : Homer Od. 16.97-98; 115-116 (Cf. Homer Il. 21.308-309; Xenophon Memorabilia 2.3.19) Plato Rep. 2.363c4-d2 : Homer Od. 16.601-604 Plato Rep. 2.379e4-380a1 : Sophocles Krisis (Cf. Homer Il. 20.4-25; “Stasinus” Cypria fr. 1.4-11 (Evelyn-White))

Paraphrases (P) 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Plato Rep. 3.390a8-9 : Homer Od. 9.1, 5-6 Plato Rep. 2.366a3-4 : Homer Il. 9.499, 501 Plato Rep. 2.379d4-5, 7 : Homer Il. 24.528-529, 531 Plato Rep. 2.379e1-2 : (A conflation of) Homer Il. 4.84 (=Il. 19.224) & Od. 4.237 Plato Rep. 8.545d8 : Homer Il. 16.112 Plato Rep. 3.393d3-5, d8-394a7 : Homer Il. 1.12-42

Proverbial Citations (PC) 1. 2. 3.

Plato Rep. 1.328e6 : Homer Il. 22.60; 24.487; Od. 15.246; 348; 23.212 Plato Rep. 3.408a2 : Homer Il. 15.18; 20.188; 21.396; Od. 24.115 Plato Rep. 8.544d7-8 : Homer Od. 19.163

Quotations (Q) 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

8. 9. 10. 11. 12.

Plato Rep. 4.424b8-10 : Homer Od. 1.351-352 Plato Rep. 3.411b4 : Homer Il. 17.588 Plato Rep. 3.389d2-3 : Homer Od. 17.383-384 Plato Rep. 3.390a10-b2 : Homer Od. 9.8-10 Plato Rep. 1.334b2-3 : Homer Od. 19.395-396 Plato Rep. 2.363b4-c2 : Homer Od. 19.109, 111-114 Plato Rep. 6.501b7 : Homer Il. 1.131, 2.623; 862; 3.16; 27; 30; 37; 58; 450; 6.290; 332; 517; 11.581; 12.94; 13.774; 17.494; 534; 19.155; 327; 24.217; 299; 372; 386; 405; 483; 552; 634; 659; 763; Od. 1.113; 3.343; 416; 4.276; 628; 6.7; 7.231; 8.256; 10.205; 14.173; 15.271; 508; 16.20; 17.151; 328; 391; 20.350, 363; 21.186; 277 Plato Rep. 2.364d6-e2 : Homer Il. 9.497, 499-501 Plato Rep. 2.381d3-4 : Homer Od. 17.485-486 Plato Rep. 2.379d3, 6, 8 : Homer Il. 24.527, 530, 532 Plato Rep. 3.386c5-7 : Homer Od. 11.489-491 Plato Rep. 3.386d1-2 : Homer Il. 20.64-65

566 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42.

Plato Rep. 3.386d4-5 : Homer Il. 23.103-104 Plato Rep. 3.386d7 : Homer Od. 10.495 Plato Rep. 3.386d9-10 : Homer Il. 16.856-857; 22.362-363 Plato Rep. 3.387a2-3 : Homer Il. 23.100-101 Plato Rep. 3.387a5-8 : Homer Od. 24.6-9 Plato Rep. 7.516d4 : Homer Od. 11.489-490 Plato Rep. 3.387c1 : Homer Il. 15.188; 20.61 Plato Rep. 3.388a7-b1 : Homer Il. 24.10-12 Plato Rep. 3.388b1-2 : Homer Il. 18.23-24 Plato Rep. 3.388b4-7 : Homer Il. 22.414-415 Plato Rep. 3.388c1 : Homer Il. 18.54 Plato Rep. 3.388c4-5 : Homer Il. 22.168-169 Plato Rep. 3.388c7-d1 : Homer Il. 16.433-434 Plato Rep. 3.389a5-6 : Homer Il. 1.599-600 Plato Rep. 3.389e6 : Homer Il. 4.412 Plato Rep. 3.389e8 : Homer Il. 3.8 Plato Rep. 3.389e9 : Homer Il. 4.431 Plato Rep. 3.389e13 : Homer Il. 1.225 Plato Rep. 3.390d4-5 : Homer Od. 20.17-18 Plato Rep. 4.441b6 : Homer Od. 20.17 Plato Rep. 3.390c5-6 : Homer Il. 14.296 Plato Rep. 3.390b5 : Homer Od. 12.342 Plato Rep. 5.468d2-3 : Homer Il. 7.321 Plato Rep. 5.468d10-e1 : Homer Il. 8.162; 12.311 Plato Rep. 3.408a5 : Homer Il. 4.218-219; 11.515 Plato Rep. 3.391a6-7 : Homer Il. 22.15, 20 Plato Rep. 3.391b3-4 : Homer Il. 23.151 Plato Rep. 8.545d8-e1 : Homer Il. 16.113 Plato Rep. 8.547a4-5 : Homer Il. 6.211; 20.241 Plato Rep. 3.393a4-5 : Homer Il. 1.15-16

567 2. Citations according to the Text of Plato’s Republic Republic 1 1. 2.

328e6 334b2-3

Republic 3 (continued) [PC 1] [Q 5]

Republic 2 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18.

362d6 363b4-c2 363c4-d2 364d6-e2 366a3-4 378d3-4 378d5 379d3, 6, 8 379d4-5, 7 379e1-2 379e3-5 379e4-380a1 381d3-4 381d5 382d1-3 383a7-8

[DC 1] [Q 6] [DC 2] [Q 8] [P 2] [A 12] [A 13] [Q 10] [P 3] [P 4] [A 14] [DC 3] [Q 9] [A 10] [A 1] [A 11]

Republic 3 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33. 34.

386c5-7 386d1-2 386d4-5 386d7 386d9-10 387a2-3 387a5-8 387b9 387b9 387c1 388a6 388a7-b1 388b1-2 388b3-4 388b4-7 388c1

[Q 11] [Q 12] [Q 13] [Q 14] [Q 15] [Q 16] [Q 17] [A 16] [A 17] [Q 19] [A 6] [Q 20] [Q 21] [A 18] [Q 22] [Q 23]

35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72.

388c4-5 388c7-d1 389a5-6 389d2-3 389e6 389e8 389e9 389e13 390a8-9 390a10-b2 390b5 390b6-7 390b7-c6 390c5-6 390c6-7 390d4-5 390e5-8 390e7-10 390e10-391a1 391a6-7 391b1 391b1-2 391b2-3 391b3-4 391b5-6 391b6 391c1 391c1-2 391c1-3 391c1-3 392e3-4, 393a7-b2 392e4 392e4-393a1, 393a7-b2 393a4-5 393d3-5, d8-394a7 404b12-c1 404b12-c1 405e1

[Q 24] [Q 25] [Q 26] [Q 3] [Q 27] [Q 28] [Q 29] [Q 30] [P 1] [Q 4] [Q 34] [A 23] [A 24] [Q 33] [A 25] [Q 31] [A 20] [A 21] [A 22] [Q 38] [A 33] [A 34] [A 35] [Q 39] [A 36] [A 37] [A 6] [A 7] [A 8] [A 9] [A 38] [A 39] [A 40] [Q 42] [P 6] [A 26] [A 27] [A 28]

568 Republic 3 (continued) 73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. 83. 84.

405e1-2 405e2-406a2 406a2 406c2-3 407e4 408a2 408a3-4 408a5 408a7 408b1-2 408b6 411b4

Republic 6 [A 29] [A 30] [A 31] [A 28] [A 28] [PC 2] [A 32] [Q 37] [A 31] [A 30] [A 28] [Q 2]

89. 90.

486b11-12 501b7

[A 5] [Q 7]

Republic 7 91.

516d4

[Q 18]

Republic 8 92. 93. 94. 95.

544d7-8 545d8 545d8-e1 547a4-5

[PC 3] [P 5] [Q 40] [Q 41]

Republic 4 85. 86.

424b8-10 441b6

[Q 1] [Q 32]

Republic 9 Republic 10

Republic 5 87. 88.

468d2-3 468d10-e1

[Q 35] [Q 36]

96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102.

612b5 614b2 614b3 620a6-7 620b3 620b7-c2 620c2-3

[A 4] [A 41] [A 42] [A 2] [A 15] [A 3] [A 19]

569 3. Citations according to the Text of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey Iliad 1 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12.

Iliad 4 (continued) 12-42 15-16 15-21 24-32 35-42 131 225 413-418 462-466 495-496 589-593 599-600

[P 6] [Q 42] [A 38] [A 39] [A 40] [Q 7] [Q 30] [A 6] [A 27] [A 6] [A 12] [Q 26]

Iliad 2 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20.

1-4 1-36 211-277 427-429 94-600 623 731 862

[A 23] [A 11] [A 19] [A 27] [A 2] [Q 7] [A 28] [Q 7]

31. 194 32. 204 33. 218-219 34. 412 35. 431 36. 512

[A 28] [A 28] [Q 37] [Q 27] [Q 29] [A 6]

Iliad 5 Iliad 6 37. 211 38. 290 39. 332 40. 517

[Q 41] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7]

Iliad 7 41. 42.

316-318 321

[A 27] [Q 35]

Iliad 8 Iliad 3 21. 8 22. 16 23. 27 24. 30 25. 37 26. 58 27. 450

[Q 28] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7]

Iliad 4 28. 64-126 29. 84 30. 134-140

[A 14] [P 4] [A 32]

43. 162 44. 369

[Q 36] [A 17]

Iliad 9 45. 252-258 46. 360 47. 410 48. 497, 499-501 49. 499, 501 50. 515-526 51. 602-605

[A 7] [A 26] [A 6] [Q 8] [P 2] [A 20] [A 20]

570 Iliad 16 (continued)

Iliad 10 Iliad 11 52. 515 53. 518 54. 581 55. 582-584 56. 614 57. 638-641 58. 827-831 59. 842-848

[Q 37] [A 28] [Q 7] [A 29] [A 28] [A 30] [A 9] [A 31]

Iliad 12 60. 94 61. 311

[Q 7] [Q 36]

76. 112 77. 113 78. 140-144 79. 331 80. 432-435 81. 433-434 82. 856-857 83. 860

[P 5] [Q 40] [A 9] [A 7] [A 7] [Q 25] [Q 15] [A 6]

Iliad 17 84. 85. 86.

494 534 588

[Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 2]

Iliad 18 Iliad 13 62. 63.

350 774

[A 6] [Q 7]

Iliad 14 64. 2 65. 159-360 66. 271 67. 296

[A 28] [A 24] [A 17] [Q 33]

87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 94. 95. 96.

18 23-24 23-35 54 54-64 70-78 85-87 332 336-337 432-435

[A 7] [Q 21] [A 18] [Q 23] [A 6] [A 18] [A 6] [A 6] [A 37] [A 6]

Iliad 19 Iliad 15 68. 18 69. 37 70. 188

[PC 2] [A 17] [Q 19]

Iliad 16 71. 72. 73. 74. 75.

33 34 37 51 85-87

[A 7] [A 6] [A 6] [A 6] [A 7]

97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103. 104. 105.

4 4-5 8 155 224 278-281 327 343-346 387-391

[A 6] [A 18] [A 6] [Q 7] [P 4] [A 21] [Q 7] [A 18] [A 9]

571 Iliad 23 (continued)

Iliad 20 106. 107. 108. 109. 110. 111. 112. 113.

4-25 4-75 61 64-65 188 206 207 241

[DC 3] [A 13] [Q 19] [Q 12] [PC 2] [A 7] [A 6] [Q 41]

Iliad 21 114. 115. 116. 117. 118. 119. 120.

185 189 214-227 233-327 308-309 385-513 396

[A 8] [A 7] [A 33] [A 34] [DC 1] [A 13] [PC 2]

Iliad 22 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126. 127. 128.

15, 20 60 168-169 362-363 396-404 414-415 420-421 463-465

[Q 38] [PC 1] [Q 24] [Q 15] [A 36] [Q 22] [A 7] [A 36]

139. 839

[A 3]

Iliad 24 140. 141. 142. 143. 144. 145. 146. 147. 148. 149. 150. 151. 152. 153. 154. 155. 156. 157. 158. 159. 160. 161. 162. 163.

10-12 14-18 44-49 51-52 59 60-61 85 128-130 217 299 372 386 405 416-417 483 487 501-594 527, 530, 532 528-529, 531 552 623-624 634 659 763

[Q 20] [A 36] [A 18] [A 36] [A 6] [A 7] [A 6] [A 18] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7] [A 36] [Q 7] [PC 1] [A 22] [Q 10] [P 3] [Q 7] [A 27] [Q 7] [Q 7] [Q 7]

Odyssey 1 Iliad 23 129. 130. 131. 132. 133. 134. 135. 136. 137. 138.

21 22-23 100-101 103-104 142-149 151 164-177 181-182 187 493

[A 36] [A 37] [Q 16] [Q 13] [A 35] [Q 39] [A 37] [A 37] [A 36] [A 3]

1. 2.

113 351-352

[Q 7] [Q 1]

Odyssey 2 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

65-66 343 416 459-462 470

[A 27] [Q 7] [Q 7] [A 27] [A 27]

572 Odyssey 10 (continued)

Odyssey 3

27. 28. 29.

Odyssey 4 8. 9. 10. 11.

237 276 456-458 4.628

[P 4] [Q 7] [A 10] [Q 7]

514 514 552-553

[A 16] [A 17] [A 42]

Odyssey 11 30. 31. 32.

489-490 489-491 540-564

[Q 18] [Q 11] [A 15]

Odyssey 5 12. 13.

185 845

[A 17] [A 4]

Odyssey 12

[Q 7] [A 5]

Odyssey 13

33. 34.

342 364-365

[Q 34] [A 27]

Odyssey 6 14. 15.

7 120

Odyssey 7 16.

231

35.

201

[A 5]

Odyssey 14 [Q 7]

36. 37.

173 430-431

[Q 7] [A 27]

Odyssey 8 17. 18. 19. 20.

256 266-369 493 575

[Q 7] [A 25] [A 3] [A 5]

Odyssey 15

[P 1] [A 41] [Q 4] [A 5]

Odyssey 16

[Q 7] [Q 14]

Odyssey 17

38. 39. 40. 41.

246 271 348 508

[PC 1] [Q 7] [PC 1] [Q 7]

Odyssey 9 21. 22. 23. 24.

1, 5-6 1-12.453 8-10 175

42. 43. 44. 45.

20 97-98 115-116 601-604

[Q 7] [DC 1] [DC 1] [DC 2]

Odyssey 10 25. 26.

205 495

46.

151

[Q 7]

573 Odyssey 17 (continued) 47. 48. 49. 50.

328 383-384 391 485-486

Odyssey 20 (continued) [Q 7] [Q 3] [Q 7] [Q 9]

58. 59. 60. 61.

17-18 279-280 350 363

[Q 31] [A 27] [Q 7] [Q 7]

Odyssey 21 Odyssey 18

62. 63.

186 277

[Q 7] [Q 7]

Odyssey 19 51. 52. 53. 54. 55.

109, 111-114 163 203 395-396 422-423

[Q 6] [PC 3] [A 1] [Q 5] [A 27]

Odyssey 20 56. 57.

Odyssey 22 Odyssey 23 64.

212

[PC 1]

Odyssey 24

17 17-18

[Q 32] [Q 31]

65. 66.

6-9 115

[Q 17] [PC 2]

4. Citations Referencing Texts Other than or in Addition to Homer Aeschylus Agamemnon 1160 fr. 210-215 (Radt) Persians 629 Prometheus Bound 572 Seven Against Thebes 690 The Judgment of Arms

Aristotle [A 16] [A 10] [Q 19] [Q 19] [A 16] [A 15]

Aristophanes Frogs 472

[A 16]

Poetics 1454b38-1455a3 Rhetoric 3.16.7

[A 41] [A 41]

Bacchylides Odes 5.64 11.9

[A 16] [A 17]

574 Euripides Alcestis 458 Helen 94-102 Heracles 352 Ion 1441 Iphigenia at Aulis 926-927 Medea 1415 Orestes 261

[A 16] [A 15] [Q 19] [Q 19] [A 9] [P 4] [Q 19]

Herodotus Histories 3.14.10

The Little Iliad

[A 15]

Pindar Isthmian 5.52-3 Nemean 3.43-49 4.54-68 4.62-68 5.25-37 7.20-30 8.21-34 Olympian 9.48 Pythian 3.81-82

[P 4] [A 9] [A 7] [A 10] [A 7] [A 15] [A 15] [Q 1] [Q 10]

[PC 1] Ps.-Hesiod

Hesiod Theogony

26-28 35 114 361 383 776 850 1006-1007 Works and Days 331 665-669

Shield of Heracles 227 [A1] [PC 3] [P 5] [A 17] [A 17] [A 17] [Q 19] [A 6] [PC 1] [P 4]

[A 4]

Simonides 642e PMG

[Q 5]

Sophocles Ajax Electra 1391 fr. 618 (Radt)

[A 15] [Q 19] [A 10]

Homeric Hymns Demeter 2.259 2.357 2.423 Apollo 3.85 Hermes 4.519 Aphrodite 5.106

[A 17] [Q 19] [A 17] [A 17] [A 17] [PC 1]

Isocrates 11.13

[P 4]

“Stasinus” Cypria fr. 1.4-11 (Evelyn-White)

[DC 3]

Strabo Geography 10.1.3 12.8.7 Xenophon Memorabilia 2.3.19

[Q 28] [Q 28] [DC 1]

575 5. Citations Containing Platonic and Homeric Cross-References Homer

Plato Apology 34d4-5 Critias 108c3-4 Euthydemus 275c7-d2 289a3 Euthyphro 15c2-3 Gorgias 449a7 516c3 Ion 538b7-c3 Lysis 218b5 222d8 Meno 84e3 94c5 100a5 Phaedo 94d8-e1 113c1 113c2 113c8 114a5 Phaedrus 237a7-b1 270c3 275b8 Republic 1.331e3-4 1.350d7 2.357a-367e Sophist 216a-d 246a8 268d2-3

[DC 3] [P 5] [P 5] [PC 2] [PC 2] [Q 41] [A 5] [A 30] [PC 2] [PC 2] [PC 2] [PC 2] [Q 14] [Q 31; Q 32] [A 17] [A 17] [A 16] [A 16] [P 5] [A 28] [DC 3] [Q 5] [PC 2] [A 4] [Q 9] [DC 3] [Q 41]

Iliad 1.374-375 2.484 2.536 4.262 11.218 11.508 11.830 14.508 15.14-24 18.395-399 20.4-25 21.308-309 22.126 24.164-165 24.364 24.640 Odyssey 1.198-199 2.62 4.492 8.49 14.437 23.264-284, 310-343 24.316-317

[Q 42] [P 5] [Q 28] [Q 36] [P 5] [Q 28] [Q 37] [P 5] [A 12] [A 12] [DC 3] [DC 1] [PC 3] [Q 22] [Q 28] [Q 22] [A 5] [Q 38] [P 4] [Q 20] [Q 35] [A 41] [Q 21]

PATRICK GERALD LAKE B. A., Boston University M. A., Fordham University Plato’s Homeric Dialogue: Homeric Quotation, Paraphrase, and Allusion in the Republic Dissertation directed by Robert J. Penella, Ph. D. In the Republic, Plato engages in a meta-dialogue with Homer, one that overlays the dramatic one between Socrates and his interlocutors. To carry out this dialogue, Plato cites Homer frequently. This study identifies 93 citations of the poet, the most complete and accurate catalogue of these citations to date. It is also the first study to examine these citations as a whole, both at a textual and interpretive level. Plato quotes Homer in the Republic with considerable textual accuracy. His text is about 95 percent in accord with our text – a finding with important implications for the Homeric Problem. Most of the textual infidelities in Plato’s Homer are innocuous, though some are not. Some misquotations alter or eliminate a word or phrase in Homer for the purpose of parody or censorship. The vast majority of Plato’s misquotations of Homer, however, do not have a textual basis. In order to turn Homer’s poetry into an effective educational tool, Plato “philosophically revises” it: he misrepresents and misinterprets it; he takes Homer’s words out of their poetic context and incorporates them into a new philosophical one in order to make them consistent with his own philosophical aims, arguments, and values. In this way, Plato strikes a beneficial

harmony between philosophy and poetry, like that which exists in a just soul or polis between reason, emotion, and appetite. In the Republic, Plato criticizes not only the content and style of Homer, but also his contemporaries’ reception of the poet. Unlike those who uncritically accept Homer as an authority on all matters, Plato engages in an active dialogue with him and shows how dangerous or inconsistent views can easily be extracted from his poetry. He also imitates and thus parodies certain professionals’ misuse of Homer: like the bards, he recites and interprets Homer; like the allegorists, he finds “deeper meanings” in Homer; and like the rhetoricians and Sophists, he misappropriates Homer’s authority for his own ends. Yet his own false mimesis or misrepresentation of Homer is noble, according to Plato, as it aims toward the Good rather than just what is pleasurable, expedient, or persuasive.

VITA Patrick Gerald Lake, son of Edward Charles and Geraldine Mae Lake, was born on November 30, 1977, in Warrington, Pennsylvania. After graduating in 1996 from Central Bucks High School West, he entered Boston University on a University Scholarship. In 2000, he received the Bachelor of Arts degree in Ancient Greek & Latin, summa cum laude, with distinction and was a fall inductee into the Phi Beta Kappa Honor Fraternity. At Boston University, he was the recipient of the College Prize for Excellence in Classical Studies, the Senior Class Award for Public Speaking, and winner of the E. Ray Speare Award, presented to the outstanding male student-athlete of the school. He entered Fordham University in the fall of 2000, serving as a Graduate Assistant and Teaching Fellow. Following the completion of his graduate coursework in Classics at Fordham University, in September 2003, he accepted a position as Classics Instructor at The Hill School. While at The Hill School, in 2008 he earned his Master of Arts degree from Fordham University in Classical Languages & Literature. Thereafter he won the Presidential Award for Outstanding Graduate Student Paper at the 2010 meeting of CAMWS. He completed his dissertation on Plato’s Homeric citations in the Republic under the direction of Dr. Robert J. Penella. While at The Hill School, he taught all levels of Latin and Ancient Greek and variously served the school as the Isaac Thomas Chair of Classical Languages, president of the Cum Laude Society, dormitory head, head coach of the girls’ winter and spring track and field team, among other duties. He is the husband of Tammi Elizabeth Lake and the father of Nora Elizabeth, Chloe Mae, and Cormac Edward Lake.