428-348
BCE
Plato
is less an author than a world of thought. He is probably on of the half-dozen
most influential minds in Western civilization. Alfred North Whitehead has said
that all Western philosophy consists of a series of footnotes to Plato, an
exaggeration (or minimization), but not entirely untrue. The beginning reader
cannot hope to explore the entire Platonic world, nor should he attempt it. The
readings suggested below enable us to make his acquaintance and that of his master
Socrates. And that is all.
A
wealthy Athenian who lived through his city-state’s great and also declining
days, Plato experienced one supremely crucial event in his long life: his
meeting with Socrates. He had many talents, and was drawn, for example, toward
both poetry and politics; but Socrates determined him to a life of thought,
undertaken on many fronts.
The
result of this life was a series of “dialogues,” long and short, some very
beautiful, some dull, and most of them spotlighting his master Socrates. The
“Socratic method” was part of the atmosphere of the period. Socrates questioned
all things, and particularly the meanings men attached to abstract and
important words, such as justice, love, and courage. The questioning was real;
the truth was finally approached only through the play of minds, that
give-and-take we call “dialectic.” This mode of thought exemplified and
perfected in the dialogues. They are not mere exercises in mental agility
(except occasionally) but works of art in which all the resources of a poetic
and dramatic imagination are called into play. The reader of Plato, no less
than the reader of Shakespeare, is reading an artist.
You
should keep in mind three central Platonic notions: the first is that, as
Socrates says, “a life without inquiry is not worth living.” That lies at the
heart of everything Plato wrote. The second notion is that virtue is knowledge;
the sufficiently wise person will also be sufficiently good. The third notion
has to do with the kinds of knowledge most worth having. Plato believed in
“Ideas,” invisible, intangible archetypes or prototypes of things and actions
and qualities. These latter, as we know them on earth through the distorting
veil of the senses are but faint reflections of the heavenly Ideas. We call
this mode of apprehending the universe Idealism; and Plato is its father.
His
philosophy, however, is not a consistent whole, and in many respects it changed
as he grew older and lost faith in humanity’s ability to govern itself wisely.
I suggest therefore that the dialogues be read, not as a systematic expositions
of dogma, but as the intellectual dramas they are, full of humor, wit, mental
play, unforgettable extended similes called myths, and particularly full of one
of history’s most fascinating characters, the ugly, charming, mock-modest
Socrates.
It
might be best to begin with the Apology, in which Socrates defends
himself against the charges of atheism and corrupting the youth. As we know,
his defense was a failure—he was executed, by self-administered poison, in 399
B.C.E. The dialogue was, however, been a success for almost twenty-four hundred
years.
Follow
that with the Crito. Here Socrates gives is his reasons for refusing
escape form prison. Then perhaps the Protagoras, in many ways the most
sheerly brilliant of the dialogues, and the perfect exemplification of Plato
using all his talents. Some may wish to try the Meno, recording Plato’s
famous doctrine of recollection. Then comes the Symposium, practically a
drama in its movement and structure. This deals with love in all its phases,
including that accepted Greek passion, love between males. It deals also with
drunkenness, as well as with more exalted matters.
After
this perhaps the Phaedo. The sections on immortality may be skimmed or skipped,
but the last few pages, describing Socrates’ noble death, are required reading.
Many good judges have felt them to be the finest short piece of narrative ever
written. Finally, absorb as much as you can of Plato’s most ambitious and
rather difficult work, the Republic, which outlines his highly
conservative ideal states and is the ancestor of all Utopias and Dystopias—see
Huxley and Orwell—that have since appeared.
So
many of our notions and ways of thought go back to Plato (including some
fantastic and even harmful ones) that knowing nothing of him means knowing less
about one’s self. To discover Plato is not merely to discover a masterly
intellect. It is to come face to face, if you are an inheritor of the Western
tradition, with much of the hitherto unsuspected content of your own mind.