Errant Eros: Plato’s Vision of Excellence

Adriel Herring Slaughter Smith College

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The possibility that one might live on after death is quite appealing. In fact, it

is what makes life worth living for some. In both the Symposium and the Phaedrus,

the questions being discussed have to do with what makes a life worth living and

how to achieve immortality. In the Republic, the question of what makes a life worth

living is asked within the framework of what it means to be just or virtuous. Justice

becomes the starting point for other discussions in the dialogue, which includes

questions concerning immortality and love. Though the questions in each dialogue

are posed differently and the means of arriving at the answer take different courses,

the answer Plato provides in all three dialogues is ultimately the same: the best way

to live one’s life is as a philosopher. That means living a life devoted to learning and

contemplation of truth, ruled by reason that is influenced by eros, though I shall

argue that this does not mean devoid of pleasure.

It is beneficial to look at the dialogues together for several reasons.

Considering Plato’s development of the concept of eros through each dialogue allows

us to distinguish more completely his understanding of eros and how it developed

through the course of the three dialogues. Recognition of the value of eros in human

life prompted him to broaden the definition to include various facets of the term,

such as madness, as well as the possibility that eros may not be detrimental to the life

of the philosopher. It is my suggestion that together the dialogues give a complete

picture of Plato’s vision of living the most fulfilling and excellent life.

Plato changed his portrayal of the philosophical life from the Symposium

through the Republic to the Phaedrus because his vision of eros underwent an

evolution. In the Symposium, the philosophical life requires that one find love of

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another individual disdainful. In the Republic, eros is considered unfavorably. It is

regarded as a very potent force that can cause one to do irrational things. In the

Republic, Plato does not deem eros an aspiration worthy of a guardian. Both the

Symposium and the Republic treat eros as something of a distraction to be overcome.

In the Phaedrus, on the other hand, Plato is slightly more amenable to the suggestion

that the philosophical life can include interpersonal, lasting relationships between

equals. Socrates is portrayed quite differently in this dialogue due to the rejection of

his own argument from his first speech, a speech that espoused similar notions to

those in the other dialogues, such as avoiding eros because of the potentially harmful

results. In his second speech, Socrates claims that eros and madness might not be

altogether detrimental to the life of the philosopher. Nevertheless, Plato offered an

exclusive ideal and, while that is not an argument against having ideals, I shall

discuss why the options that Plato gives us, even in the Phaedrus, are unsuitable for

actually living the best human life.

As we shall see in the case of madness, Plato’s vision of eros undergoes an

evolution through the course of the dialogues. In the Symposium, Socrates recalls the

notion of eros told to him by a priestess, Diotima (Symp. 210a – 212a). The end of his

speech focuses on a how to attain vision of true Beauty. This goal is accomplished

by following ascending steps that will lead, through the development of reason

aided by both creativity and eros, to the pinnacle of perfection, the world of the

Forms.1 The dialogue could have ended there. Instead, the dialogue ends with a

speech by a drunken Alcibiades that centers on his unrequited love for Socrates and

the pain he has experienced on its account. His speech serves to illustrate the 1 The role of eros in the ascent is a point of contention and will be further discussed in the paper.

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necessity of not only recognizing but also passionately loving the uniqueness in our

soul mates as a step in the path, perhaps not to transcendence but to mortal, earthly

happiness.

In the Republic, the questions are posed: What does it mean to be excellent?

And, How can one become just, or virtuous? Socrates’ answer is roundabout – he

proposes that the best way to find the answers to these questions is by thinking

about them on a large scale and then on a smaller one. That is, in order to see what

the ideal individual would be like, he started by examining what justice in a city

would be like (Rep. 369a). Human relationships are a natural part of any city and

therefore the course of the discussion included considerations concerning what these

relationships will be like and what role eros will play. Throughout the Republic, eros

is synonymous with appetite, desire and pleasure – all things that Plato thinks will

undermine the philosopher’s ability to see true Beauty, things he believes will lead

to bad action. Eros is equated with excess and licentiousness. Plato asserts that there

is a certain way one should live in order to flourish that does not include such

behavior. In this case, e.g., that life does not include forming intimate bonds with

other guardians or anyone else for that matter. My interpretation of the solution

offered by Plato in the Republic suggests that he considered eros a negative force that

could not be part of a moderate and tempered life. For example, the story told of

Leontius illustrates Plato’s conception of eros prior to the Phaedrus: eros is an

appetitive force that can ultimately overpower one and cause one to do irrational

things. Leontius noticed corpses lying by the public executioner (Rep. 439e). He

both desired to look at the corpses and at the same time was disgusted with himself

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and forced himself to look away. He was, however, finally overwhelmed with

desire and looked at the corpses (Rep. 440a). This story exemplifies the madness that

love excites and suggests that it causes one to do things against his or her own

reason, as if one is simply rendered powerless in the face of such significant desire,

which here is equated with eros. Yet Plato cannot disregard the fact that, as humans,

the guardians will have human tendencies, even after several generations have

passed. The idea that he is promoting here is that in order to live the best life, one

should aspire to overcome these mad desires, not unlike the process of the ascent in

the Symposium – objects of desire are transcended towards objects more worthy of

desire, yet in the Republic, eros is an aspect of humans that must be kept under

control (Rep. 443c – 445a). The argument throughout this dialogue centers on the

way one should live in order to be excellent, both in this life and thereafter.

In the Phaedrus, discussions concerning the concept of eros include

considerations about the madness of the lover and the mortal struggle to control

actions based solely on physical desire. In his second speech, Socrates recants the

claims of his previous speech in which he asserted that accepting the advances of the

non-lover was more appropriate than making oneself available to the lover. He

claimed that this was more appropriate because the lover had lost his head while the

non-lover remained rational and levelheaded. In his second speech, Socrates

renounced the result of his first speech, asserting instead that madness is not always

a bad thing, which, according to my interpretation, suggests that it might also mean

eros is not always a bad thing. The Phaedrus is a dialogue about madness and there

are several types of madness discussed. Therefore, before progressing further, I

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must make clear how I have interpreted madness and how it is relevant to this

paper.

In everyday language, madness typically refers to actions that appear to be

based on non-intellectual desires, suggesting imprudence, delusion or even insanity.

This concept of madness has the connotation of recklessness, not something that

Plato endorsed. However, the ordinary definition of madness is limited because it

dismisses any benefit that we might receive.

In the Phaedrus, there are several kinds of beneficial madness, all forms of

divine possession in some way: the madness of the priestess and prophet, the kind

of madness that brings relief – which leads to prophecy, prayers and worship of the

gods, and the madness of possession by the Muses (Phdr. 244b – 245a). The kind of

madness that will lead upwards toward the vision of true Beauty is the fourth kind

of madness, also a kind of divine possession, that manifests itself in

the kind [of madness] which someone shows when he sees the beauty we have down here and is reminded of true beauty; then he takes wing and flutters in his eagerness to rise up, but is unable to do so; and he gazes aloft, like a bird, paying no attention to what is down below – and that is what brings on him the charge that he is mad (Phdr. 249d).

The unusual phrase, “the charge that he is mad,” is worth a moment of attention.

The language used here suggests that when a lover is called ‘mad’ in the Phaedrus, he

is not being called insane or irrational. Rather, from the outside, the so-called mad

lover is behaving in such a way that those who have not experienced eros in the same

manner have no other means of expression but to refer to him as mad.2 When we

2 This use of madness is not the same as the use of madness in Book VII of the Republic (515c – 517e). As mentioned earlier, madness in the Republic is considered detrimental and while the madness of those freed from the cave is not madness any more than madness in the Phaedrus is insanity as it is commonly defined, I hesitate to equate the two. Madness is detrimental in the Republic and if the person freed from the cave were to be considered mad, he would have to be considered tyrannical,

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view in our madness an image that reminds us of what we saw before becoming

encumbered by life and our own bodies,

we who celebrated it were wholly perfect and free of all the troubles that awaited us in time to come and we gazed in rapture at sacred revealed objects that were perfect, and simple, and unshakeable and blissful (Phdr. 250c).

Madness as it is portrayed in the Phaedrus is useful; it is a gift from the gods

and as such, it can aid one in achieving immortality. It is rational madness that Plato

refers to in the Phaedrus, which expands the definition of madness as it is usually

thought of. Rational madness, which refers only to the highest kind of madness,

leaves the possessed with both the ability to deliberate and make intelligent

decisions (Phdr. 249d – e). It does not lead to the kind of madness displayed by

Alcibiades in the Symposium, the kind that is reckless and imprudent (212d – 222d).

It is also not the kind of madness displayed by the tyrant in Book IX of the Republic

(573a – d). In fact, madness is not considered of use at all in the Republic, and was

thought to be a “simple evil” (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 204). In the Republic, madness

could not lead to genuine insight because it is associated with excess and Plato

argues that more often than not it produces bad actions (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 204;

Rep. 400b, 403a, 539c, 537a – b, 329c). The fact that madness is beneficial is a

surprising claim in the Phaedrus, given the prior discussions. However, I believe

while that Plato never altered his belief that madness narrowly defined is

detrimental, he expanded the definition of madness to not only include a broader

understanding of eros but also intelligence. The highest kind of madness, as I have

interpreted it, allows one to retain interpersonal relationships, which includes lasting

that is, not in control of himself, which is not the definition of madness used in the Phaedrus (Rep. 572c – 573d, Phdr. 249d – e).

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erotic relationships. It is the kind of madness that will allow one to live a somewhat

more complete human life than the alternatives given in the Symposium or Republic.

With this definition of madness in mind, let us now turn our attention to the

speeches given by Socrates and Alcibiades in the Symposium. The sober, albeit hung

over, gathering was composed of several people who all took turns giving speeches

about eros. No one, with the exception of Alcibiades, praises eros for what it makes

him feel. The hung over state that they are in perhaps influences their speeches,

which are, for the most part, without allure (Ferrari, 1992, p. 250). The last part of

the speech given by Socrates is a story he was told by a priestess, Diotima (Symp.

210a – 212a). She told Socrates that, so far, he was at the bottom of the scale of

perfection; because of that, he might not be able to apprehend the final revelation,

which is viewing true Beauty (Symp. 210a).3 She explains a series of steps one must

pass through in order to experience true Beauty. As pointed out by J.M.E.

Moravcsik, most people don’t even arrive at the bottom step (Moravcsik, 1971, p.

291).

Prior to the ascent, there is a longing that ordinary men and women

experience that is not love but a very simple longing for immortality through

procreation (Symp. 206e – 207a). Another way that people express their longing for

immortality is by becoming famous, particularly after death (Symp. 208c). In Greek

culture, having one’s name live on after death was an appealing method of ensuring

3 This is a surprising assertion from Diotima. Plato holds Socrates up as the paragon of virtue and self-control. Martha Nussbaum explains what this means by pointing out that Socrates is held up as what the man beginning the ascent would look like. The description given of him clearly illustrates that if we, too, embark upon the ascent (assuming we are even able to) we will not be just like ourselves, only happier, but will instead be more like Socrates, which as Nussbaum points out, is “somewhat weird” (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 184).

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immortality – because of one’s great deeds, for example, in battle, one’s name would

be spoken of with reverence. Diotima explained, “Every one of us, no matter what

he does, is longing for the endless fame, the incomparable glory that is theirs, and

the nobler he is, the greater his ambition, because he is in love with the eternal”

(Symp. 208d). The most important kind of elementary wisdom is that which governs

the ordering of society, that of justice and moderation (Symp. 209a – b). All of the

examples above are of the “elementary mysteries of Love” (Symp. 210a). In order to

be truly initiated, there are steps which Diotima sets out to explain, first warning

Socrates that he might not understand, as he himself is at the bottom of the scale of

perfection.

The highest level of the elementary mysteries is the bottom level of the ascent,

though even the bottom level of the ascent is more complex than the mere desire for

a legacy beyond mortal children. Eros is the motivating force for the first step of the

ascent. The first line of the ascent passage says that if the initiate is instructed

properly, “he will fall in love with the beauty of one individual body, so that his

passion will give rise to noble discourse” (Symp. 210a). Even this step is

unobtainable by most because it suggests not only attraction to physical beauty but

also an aesthetic desire to create. This means that eros even on the bottom level,

while erotic, is not sexual. That is, while eros is elicited by physical beauty on the

first level of the ascent, the initiate’s response is not physical but productive in that it

awakens a more complicated need to create than just procreation. As Moravcsik

points out, “the creative products of the poets or the statesmen are more worthy

than the products of the creative efforts of average men in sexual union” (Moravcsik,

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1971, p. 291). That means that even before attaining the bottom level of the ascent,

sexual interest is transformed into something more complex, or as Moravcsik would

say, it transformed to some other sort of ‘aspiration’ (Moravcsik, 1971, p. 290).

While all the steps of the ascent are not contingent upon passing through the

steps of the ‘pre-ascent’ as outlined above, the first step of the ascent is necessary if

one is to continue to vision of true Beauty because of the role eros plays and

continues to play in the steps of the ascent, as I have interpreted it. Contrary to

Moravcsik’s assertion that eros only helps as a guide until we reach the final stages, I

believe that eros remains an important aspect of the ascent, partly due to the fact that

eros is the impetus for the process of ascent and as such it remains an influence on

the passage towards vision of true Beauty (Moravcsik, 1971, p. 294).4 The ability to

understand the elementary mysteries of love is not a guarantee that one will proceed

to the ascent. The candidate for initiation must be prepared to “strain every nerve”

(Symp. 210a) in order to understand what promises to be a worthy goal, though

many will never make it past the first level of the pre-ascent, that of procreation to

engender immortality.

The next step requires the candidate to, “consider how nearly related the

beauty of any one body is to the beauty of any other (Symp. 210b). That is, after

experiencing physical attraction to an individual combined with the aesthetic

impetus, the candidate must not become singularly attached to any one individual. If

he refrains from becoming attached to any single thing, he may come to appreciate

4 This assertion seems particularly relevant, as will be discussed later, in light of the incorporation of madness and eros in the Phaedrus. Suffice to say, I believe that eros remains an influential aspect of the ascent because of its correspondence to beauty at the beginning. As ones’ desires are modified through the course of the ascent, so too is eros modified to allow its influence to remain in order for one to recognize true Beauty.

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the beauty of Laws and institutions, that is, abstract concepts (Symp. 210b).5 If we

love the abstract notion of freedom, e.g., we can welcome those things that bring it to

fruition, and learn to love those things that cause it to be. If we fixate on one type of

freedom, we may sooner or later obscure it to the point we may well give up

freedom because we have mistaken the idea of freedom for the thing-itself. Next the

initiate will be, “diverted from institutions to the sciences, so that he may know the

beauty of every kind of knowledge” (Symp. 210c – d). That is, the initiate will

continue to study freedom, e.g., and then will come to appreciate the theory behind

freedom, such as political science. Diotima says that through this process, “he will

be saved from a slavish and illiberal devotion to the individual loveliness of a single

boy, a single man or a single institution” (Symp. 210d). Ferrari points out,

interestingly, that we are not told how these transition[s] occur, only that they do

and that these are all stages along the way that the initiate “must visit” (Ferrari, 1992,

p. 257). This seems to suggest that in some way the steps of the ascent are just that –

steps, not unlike a staircase, leading to the final revelation: vision of true Beauty.

Diotima continued her explanation of the steps of the ascent, keeping the

mystery of falling in love parallel to her argument, “Whoever has been initiated so

far in the mysteries of Love and has viewed all these aspects of the beautiful in due

succession, is at last drawing upon the final revelation” (Symp. 210e). This quote

suggests to me that at least the first step of the ascent is necessary because of the role

I believe that eros continues to play throughout the ascent, though it does not require

that any other step is necessary nor is any step sufficient in and of itself. Moravcsik 5 As pointed out by G. Vlastos in, “The Individual as an Object of Love in Plato,” Plato is the first western man to realize how intense and passionate our attachment to objects as abstract as social reform, poetry, art, the sciences and philosophy are. (p. 27).

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points out that it, “cannot be that Plato intends each step a necessary condition for

the one following … On the other hand, we cannot suppose that the steps are

sufficient conditions for successors” (Moravcsik, 1971, p. 289). That is, according to

Moravcsik, one does not need to appreciate the beauty of an individual in order to

appreciate mathematics, nor does it mean that one who appreciates both or one will

gain vision of true Beauty (Moravcsik, 1971, p. 289). While this point appears to be

valid, Moravcsik does not explain (nor does Plato, for that matter) how we are to

come to “appreciate the beauty of mathematics” if one does not have any

appreciation of beauty to begin with. That is, if one never loves anything at all, how

can we find objects more worthy of eros? The final discovery is of an everlasting

loveliness, which neither comes nor goes and it is not vision of flesh or any mortal

thing, but it “subsists of itself and by itself in eternal oneness” (Symp. 211b). During

the last step of ascension, “he comes to know what beauty is” (Symp. 211c). I believe

that the last step of the ascent would be impossible to attain if we had not begun

with a simple understanding of beauty – that of individuals.

Moravcsik outlines two possible interpretations of the “ascent” passage. One

is the inclusive interpretation in which, “our eros widens as we make progress from

stage to stage; we do not abandon physical and aesthetic love for the love of spiritual

beauty, nor do we jettison the latter in favor of love of the sciences” (Moravcsik,

1971, p. 293). The exclusive interpretation, on the other hand, demands that we do

not keep but instead replace former objects of aspiration. Moravcsik claims, and I

agree, that there is more textual support for the exclusive interpretation. If we take a

weaker version of the exclusive interpretation, as Moravcsik does, we can assert that

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the ascent is not prescribing an “asexual, passionless ideal” (Moravcsik, 1971, p.

293). Moravcsik interprets the passage as a process in which we learn to transcend

certain objects of desire in favor of other objects that are more worthy of desire, in

this case, philosophy.6 He further claims that while we do undergo significant

alterations from step to step, we are not required to abandon the very things that

make us human: the emotions and appetites (Moravcsik, 1971, p. 293). They simply

become subordinate to the main goal of the path. The candidate learns something at

each step that carries over to the next.

Moravcsik’s outline of the ascent passage asserts that in the final stage, we are

guided by reason alone. I disagree with this assertion because I do not think that

one could get to the final step if eros were no longer an influence on reason. Eros is

what gives us the ability to recognize beauty in the first place and the goal at the

height of the ascent is vision of true Beauty. Therefore, eros must continue to

influence reason and its active influence allows us to obtain the final vision of true

Beauty.

The challenge given by Socrates and Diotima is tested by the arrival of

Alcibiades. Many questions have been raised regarding the inclusion of this speech

in the dialogue. I am interpreting Alcibiades’ speech as a response to the ‘ascent’

passage; he reminds us what we have so far missed: how love makes us feel.

Socrates’ speech outlined a way of life that demands transforming the objects of our

appetites and emotions into something higher, a life of contemplation and the

opportunity to witness true Beauty. In order to clarify what this truly means, 6 This description of the process of the ascent sounds similar to the process an initiate in a religious conversion undergoes – the element of awe and reverence for, e.g., God as the ‘object’ most worthy of eros, replaces philosophy in this instance.

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Alcibiades questions, through his actions and the content of his speech, the necessity

of an approach that seemingly ignores the importance of interpersonal relationships.

Martha Nussbaum asserts that a complete understanding of the dialogue is

impossible without taking Alcibiades’ speech into consideration, partly because

Plato has given one point of view and then countered it with Alcibiades’ speech.

Nussbaum contends that writers typically do not use such devices unless the first

view is not their own (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 167). She also points out that through

Socrates and Diotima the reader is shown how to, “transcend the merely personal in

eros and ascend, through desire itself, to the good” (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 197). The

attempt to ascend ignores the flaws in humanity as well as our attachment to the

“merely personal.” With the inclusion of Alcibiades' speech, we see the deep

importance unique passion has for individuals (ordinary humans) but it shows as

well we cannot just, “add the love of Alcibiades to the ascent of Diotima”

(Nussbaum, 1986, p.197). Nussbaum contends that Plato is showing us two very

distinct choices: love of wisdom or love of the flesh, bodily and therefore earthly

desires (Nussbaum, 1986, p.198). Alcibiades’ arrival reminds the reader that despite

the encouragement given by Socrates, we remain merely human, with all our flaws.

She argues that in this dialogue Plato is giving us two very distinct options – either

the life of the philosopher or the life of someone like Alcibiades. This dichotomy is

not something that he retains in such a distinct manner through the Phaedrus, a point

I believe she would agree with. Ferrari takes the argument a step further, saying

that what the Symposium is after the arrival of Alcibiades, the Phaedrus is throughout,

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a point I take to mean that the humanity that Alcibiades imbues upon the scene is

ever present throughout the Phaedrus (Ferrari, 1992, p. 262).

When the beautiful, energetic, smart, vain and tenacious Alcibiades arrives,

he is quite drunk (Nussbaum, 1986, p.165). When asked to participate by giving a

speech, he claims that he will only tell the truth, saying to the others, “You won’t

mind that, will you?” (Symp. 214e). Nussbaum makes note of this action as

significant because no one else who has spoken has so pointedly claimed that what

they are about to say is “the truth” (Nussbaum, 1986, p.167). Alcibiades asserts that

he is not only telling the truth but that it is such a sincere truth it hurts,

I’ve been bitten by something much more poisonous than a snake; in fact, mine is the most painful kind of bite there is. I’ve been bitten in the heart, or the mind, or whatever you like to call it, by Socrates’ philosophy, which clings like an adder to any young and gifted mind it can get hold of, and does exactly what it likes with it (Symp. 218a – b).

Alcibiades’ speech is brutally honest and heartfelt; he is painfully aware of the

intense passion of which he speaks. Socrates grants that there must be a bit of truth

to what Alcibiades has claimed, that in fact he does have power over Alcibiades –

simply because Alcibiades has given him that power. Socrates states:

…I’ve no doubt there’s a lot in what you say, if you’re right in thinking that I have some kind of power that would make a better man of you, because in that case you must find me so extraordinarily beautiful that your own attractions must be quite eclipsed. And if you’re trying to barter your own beauty for the beauty you have found in me, you’re driving a very hard bargain, let me tell you. You’re trying to exchange the semblance of beauty of the thing itself … Suppose you’re making a mistake, and I’m not worth anything at all (Symp. 218e).

Socrates asks if he’s worth anything at all, as if to suggest that Alcibiades’ loyalty is

seriously misplaced. Socrates was ugly, by all accounts, so what was it that was so

attractive to Alcibiades? Surely it was not physical beauty. Therefore, it must be

that Alcibiades was attracted to the values that Socrates embodied. Diotima

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mentioned this kind of attraction, “When he meets with spiritual loveliness, even in

the husk of an unlovely body, he will find it beautiful enough to fall in love with and

cherish” (Symp. 210c). This statement, however, is a bit misleading, as we would

have to suppose that Alcibiades was on the steps of the ascent, when it is obvious

that Plato means to portray him otherwise. While it is certainly possible that

Alcibiades could have ascended, to presume this undermines both the choice Plato

presents through the two characters’ speeches and the power of the love for Socrates

that Alcibiades experienced. If Alcibiades were only attracted to the values Socrates

embodied, there is no reason he would not be similarly attracted to someone else of

like values. This leaves us with the distinct possibility that Plato is indeed denying

the importance of unique love between individuals – perhaps because there would

not, in Plato’s perfect world, be such a thing as the unique individual?

Alcibiades ends his speech by excessively praising Socrates. He declared that,

“Socrates is very peculiar – but he’s absolutely unique, there’s no one like him and I

don’t believe there ever was” (Symp. 221c). To Alcibiades, Socrates is peculiar,

amazing, and intelligent; these qualities together make him unique. His entire

speech is an effort to communicate and celebrate this uniqueness. However, as

Socrates points out, Alcibiades has traded in the semblance of beauty for the thing

itself – through love of the individual. That is, Alcibiades is merely in love with the

qualities represented in Socrates, not specifically Socrates; he loves the “lover of

wisdom” instead of loving wisdom (Ferrari, 1992, p. 261). Alcibiades is in love with

the qualities Socrates embodies, not the specific and unique individual Socrates,

according to Socrates and Ferrari. Alcibiades – unlike Socrates – was not capable of

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such a distinction between his mind and body, or of favoring his mind over his

body. As Nussbaum points out, Socrates really seems to think of himself as a being

whose body is very distinct from his mind; his personality in no way identifies itself

with the body and the body’s adventures (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 183). Alcibiades, on

the other hand, is responding through his body to qualities in Socrates that his mind

admires, clearly not a step in the path to ascent. In this dialogue, Plato is not

advocating interpersonal relationships, particularly not unequal relationships. The

relationship between Alcibiades and Socrates could never be equal due to their very

different approaches to life and love.

Where does this leave eros? Is it possible to retain any element of eros in a life

that should be shaped by “practical reason?” (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 197). People “fall

in love” all the time – what are they responding to, the lover or the qualities the

lover embodies? While Alcibiades is not the ideal example of a person so moved by

the extreme emotions eros brings forth, his speech results in causing an important

consequence to one’s actions: Socrates shudders in his presence (Symp. 213d).

Socrates’ shudder shows clearly that he is responding to the lover with feeling, with

a reaction of his body to the lover. The recklessness and passion exhibited by

Alcibiades is frightening to Socrates. Perhaps, then, Diotima’s assertion that Socrates

is on the bottom level of the ascent is correct – he responded physically to an

individual, Alcibiades, and in fact asked Agathon to protect him from Alcibiades!

(Symp. 213c). Therefore, while love of the uniqueness of the object of love is not the

same thing as love of the vision of true Beauty, it may be as close as many of us can

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get in this life, since most of us will never even reach the first step of the ascent,

though hopefully we will fare better than Alcibiades did with Socrates.

This is not Plato’s theory, according to Gregory Vlastos. He claims that eros,

“is not, and is not meant to be, about personal love for persons” (Vlastos, 1973, p.

26). He further asserts that,

what it is really about is love for place-holders of the predicates “useful” and “beautiful” … in this theory persons evoke ‘eros’ if they have beautiful bodies, minds or dispositions. But so do impersonal objects, such as social programs, literary compositions, scientific theories, philosophical systems and best of all, the idea of beauty itself (Vlastos, 1973, p. 26).

If one is to view bodies only as reminders of what is truly divine, what becomes of

interpersonal relationships and living a good life? This interpretation of Plato

undermines the importance of Alcibiades’ speech and the love he professed for

Socrates. According to Vlastos, Plato ignores the importance of interpersonal

relationships with a unique individual. He claims that, “Plato is scarcely aware of

kindness, tenderness, compassion, concern for freedom, respect for the integrity of

the beloved, as essential ingredients of the highest type of interpersonal love”

(Vlastos, 1973, p. 30). I tend to find Vlastos’ reading somewhat extreme. In this

dialogue, the choices are between the reckless life of someone like Alcibiades and the

disembodied contemplative life of someone like Socrates. However, Vlastos

disregards the inclusion of Alcibiades’ speech in the dialogue, which a significant

loss for his argument because, as previously stated, Socrates actually shuddered

when faced with the love of Alcibiades – Socrates experienced one of the emotions

that eros has been known to instill in humans, thus exemplifying his own humanity

and his ability to recognize eros in someone who is not beautiful in the purest sense

of the word.

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Although Alcibiades is not the best role model for ideal behavior in the

lover, his speech illustrates an alternative to the interpretation that the ascent

passage is meant as a suggestion that we should abandon eros as we strive towards

immortality. On the other hand, Socrates is not the best role model either. He is

made to seem, as Alcibiades points out, unique but beyond that he seems peculiar

and slightly unattractive - he was able to walk on hot coals, drink without getting

drunk and was the absolute epitome of self-control – and he was only at the bottom

of the ascent! Martha Nussbaum’s assertion, that the Symposium gives us a choice, is

an appealing interpretation, I think, because: “We see now that philosophy is not

fully human; but we are terrified of humanity and what that leads to” (Nussbaum,

1986, p.198).

Human lives are full of instability and conflict. What, then, is the best way to

live a human life? Alcibiades’ story was, “a story of waste and loss, of the failure of

practical reason to shape a life” (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 166). Clearly this is not the best

example of the good life. Nussbaum retells the story of the night before Alcibiades

died. He had a dream he was dressed in women’s clothes and his face was being

painted. She claims that this dream expressed his desire,

for unmixed passivity: the wish to lose the need for practical reason, to become a being who could live entirely in the flux of eros and so avoid tragedy. But at the same time it is a wish to be no longer an erotic being . . . It is . . . a wish not to live in the world (Nussbaum, 1986, p.199).

According to this passage, Alcibiades, despite his shortcomings, recognized that a

life based only on passionate desire was not a complete life.

In the Republic, the discussion centers on what it means to be excellent. In this

dialogue, Plato is concerned with the character of human beings and how humans

20

can best achieve what he believes it means to live a good life. His contention is that

the ideal person is just, or virtuous. How does one become virtuous? In answer to

that question, Socrates outlined what the virtuous city would look like and then

turned his attention to the inhabitants of that city.

As mentioned by Julia Annas, the model of the city is authoritarian as

Socrates described it (Annas, 1981, p. 2). The inhabitants of the city have no

individuality – everything is denied them for the good of the city (Rep. 416e – 417b).7

Presumably, the plan that Plato has in mind is one that would take several

generations to solidify. The children are to be raised in a certain way that will

ensure that they become just adults; most likely the plan Plato envisioned includes

guardians who have aspired to the point that they are not even predisposed to the

problems of libido. The guardians must not be prone to laughter; for Plato, laughter

signifies a loss of control and the guardians are the representative models of self-

control (Rep. 388e). The guardians must not “form the habit” of behaving like

madmen, either in word or deed (Rep. 396a). However, “they must have knowledge

of both mad and bad men and women” so they will know how not to behave (Rep.

396a).

7 “In the first place, none must possess any private property save the indispensable. Secondly, none must have any habitation or treasure house which is not open for all to enter at will. Their food . . . they must receive as an agreed stipend from the other citizens as wages of their guardianship . . . . And resorting to a common mess . . . they will live together. Gold and silver . . . they have of the divine quality from the gods always in their souls . . . But for these only of all the dwellers in the city it is not lawful to handle gold or silver and to touch them nor yet to come under the same roof with them, nor to hang them as ornaments on their limbs nor to drink from gold and silver. So living they would save themselves and save their city. But whenever they acquire for themselves land of their own and houses and coin, they will be householders and farmers instead of guardians, and will be transformed from the helpers of their fellow citizens to their enemies and masters, and so in hating and being hated, . . . they will pass their days fearing far more and rather the townsmen within that the foemen without . . .” (Rep. 416d-417b).

21

A question is raised in the course of the discussion concerning disharmony in

the soul, “But tell me this – can there be any communion between soberness and

extravagant pleasure?” (Rep. 402d – e). Socrates’ asserts that there cannot be any

communion because pleasure (which it seems cannot but be extravagant) puts

people out of their minds, nor is there any communion between pleasure and virtue

(Rep. 403a). There is, however, communion “between pleasure and insolence and

license” (Rep. 403a). Most tellingly, it is agreed that pleasure associated with

Aphrodite (sex) is the greatest but also the most “insane” (Rep. 403a). In the ideal

city and in the ideal person, there is not any room for licentious behavior nor is there

any allowance of “madness” to come “nigh the right love” (Rep. 403a). That is, no

form of pleasure is allowed to manifest itself between individuals in the ideal city.

While the guardians are encouraged to reproduce, they are discouraged from

forming any kind of bond to the other person. Sex, then, is a necessity in order to

ensure the survival of the species but it is not something from which to derive

pleasure because that would necessitate the guardians to act without moderation,

with insolence and licentiousness. This would seem to preclude any experience of

love between the guardians because of the lack of intimate bonds that are necessary

in order to sustain a relationship. It is further decided in this discussion that

moderation is a kind of mastery of certain kinds of pleasures and desires and

therefore, the guardians must be models of self-control (Rep. 430e). This means that,

like the initiates in the Symposium, humans necessarily possess desires but because

moderation demands that pleasure be avoided, due to Plato’s assumption in this

dialogue that it cannot but lead to licentious behavior, they are discouraged from

22

acting upon any emotional desires and instead their desires are changed, just as

desire is changed over the course of the ascent.

Nicholas Smith makes an interesting assertion regarding Plato’s

understanding of the body and soul. He claims that on Plato’s theory, souls were

sexless because when souls are reincarnated both in the Republic and in Phaedrus,

they can come back as male or female. Therefore, the body is just a temporary shell

that the soul has no reason to respond to (Smith, 1983, pp. 472 – 473). For Plato, the

body is purely functional and the soul is the important part of being, the part that

can be elevated. This notion of souls who are not male or female is somewhat

reminiscent of the steps of the ascent passage in the Symposium. That is, in order to

attain vision of true Beauty, or to become a guardian, one must be transformed into a

being that has overcome simple libido in order to obtain excellence; the desires of the

body are superceded by the desires of the soul, which have been deemed more

worthy desires.

In Book V, the question of women and children is brought up. Those

involved feel that Socrates owes them an explanation, which turns out to be quite

shocking in its assertions. To start, Socrates says that all men, women and children

will be “in common” (Rep. 449c). This leads to a bit of consternation among the men

because it suggests that women can be guardians as well. Socrates says that indeed

women can be guardians because the genetic nature of woman does not imply that

her vocation is to be merely reproductive, a point mentioned by both Annas and

Vlastos as significantly different from the typical conception of women and nature

during Plato’s time (Annas 1981, p. 181; Vlastos, 1995, pp. 134 – 5). The sexless

23

nature of the soul, as discussed by Smith, supports this understanding of male and

female nature (Smith, 1983, p. 472). For Plato, women in the Republic are only

weaker physically than men, but that in no way prevents them from doing anything

the men can do for, “Natural capacities are distributed alike among both creatures

and women naturally share in all pursuits and men in all – yet for all, the woman

remains weaker than the man” (Rep. 455d). The guardians are the best specimens of

both men and women, and “nothing is better for the state than generations of the

best possible men and women” (Rep. 456e). Women must be trained in the same

way if they are to do the same things as the men.

Potentially, however, there is a problem that arises when Socrates says that

women guardians are “common to all” – this seems to suggest ownership of the

females by the males. Vlastos and Smith disregard the problem, saying that Plato

simply succumbed to the language prejudices of his time (Vlastos, 1995, p.136;

Smith, 1983, p. 470). I must concur with those gentlemen as evidenced by the text:

women are to be treated exactly as the men, and therefore common suggests to me

neutrality. No one has any property, rights, or individuality. No one cohabitates

with anyone privately and the children are kept totally separate to the point that no

parent knows which child is his or hers and no child knows which parent is his or

hers (Rep. 460d, 461d).

In order to ensure that the ideal city does perpetuate, the discussion turns to

how procreation should be handled. Obviously, to continue the species with the

best end result, they must make certain that the best humans produce offspring with

the best and the worst with as few as possible. Therefore, Plato asserts that

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marriages must be arranged. He then goes on to outline a eugenic program of the

most extreme sort. If the best of the species procreate with the best, obviously their

outcome should be reared. If, however, the ordinary or too old or not intelligent

enough, etc., procreate at all, their offspring are to be hidden away, “in an

unspeakable and unseen place” (Rep. 460c). This arrangement will be secretive and

only known to, presumably, those who can handle the information – the guardians –

but the others will dismiss the arrangements as simply the outcome of chance (Rep.

460c).

Plato, carried away, further tells his listeners how childbearing and rearing is

to take place. According to his conception of things, “maternity is a soft job for the

guardians” (Rep. 460d). As soon as the children are born, they are taken to the

communal nursery and the mother is not permitted to bond with her child at all.

She is allowed to nurse as is necessary but not for any length of time that will allow

any sort of emotional attachment to occur.

Clearly, the happiness of the city is of more importance to Plato than the

happiness of individuals. In fact, I would argue that he has abolished the very

notion of individuality in this program – without any emotional ties to each other or

anything else, the entire existence of the guardians is for the good of the state. What

is patently clear is that what makes life worth living for Plato is striving for

excellence, for “a kind of health and beauty and good condition of the soul” (Rep.

444e; for more detail see Rep. 443a – 444e). That said, the only kind of happy life that

Plato acknowledges is that of the philosopher guardian; despite their happiness,

25

however, the guardians are not immune to foolish desires for personal happiness, as

Plato warns:

If the guardian shall strive for a kind of happiness that will unmake him as a guardian and shall not be content with the way of life that is so moderate and secure and, as we affirm, the best, but if some senseless and childish opinion about happiness shall beset him and impel him to use his power to appropriate everything in the city for himself, then he will find out that Hesiod was indeed wise, who said that the half was in some way more than the whole (Rep. 466b).

In the Republic, Plato states unequivocally that the only people who can possibly

flourish are the philosopher guardians, yet clearly he is aware that there might be

tension between that ideal and what it means to personally flourish.8 This is in

contrast to the assertions of the Symposium when the choice was very distinctly

between Alcibiades’ life and Socrates’ life. That is, in the Symposium, the ascent was

something that individuals did in order to live the good life (and thereafter) for

themselves. In the Republic, Plato shifts the allegiance from the good of one’s soul to

the good of the just city. It would seem possible, then, that Plato’s vision has become

more refined. I suggest this due to the fact that in the Republic the life he identifies as

the best life takes place in a communal setting and while the guardians are not

encouraged to develop interpersonal ties between one another, the mere idea of

persons of like minds living closely together seems to suggest what becomes an

actuality in the Phaedrus, according to my interpretation, that of lasting,

interpersonal ties between equals.

8 Rep. 519c, “ It is the duty of us founders, then, said I, to compel the best natures to attain the knowledge which we pronounced the greatest, and to win to the vision of the good, to scale that ascent, and when they have reached the heights and taken an adequate view, we must not allow what is now permitted. What is that? That they should linger there, I said, and refuse to go down again among those bondsmen and share their labours and honours, whether they are of less or greater worth.”

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Plato is not concerned with the physical reality of the Republic meaning that it

is merely stated as an ideal, though it is meant both to shock and to be a guide for

living the best life as Plato saw it, but not necessarily the outline for an actual city.

The guardians were the select few who had ascended to the pinnacle and had seen

true Reality. How could they be expected to return to the ordinary world after

acquiring knowledge of true Beauty? After all, “when a man’s desires have been

taught to flow in the channel of learning and all that sort of thing, they will be

concerned with pleasures of the soul in itself and will be indifferent to those of the

body” (Rep. 485d). The guardians will be habituated to live with higher goals than

mere earthly concerns – Socrates even says that it is impossible that if a mind is

habituated to thoughts of grandeur and the contemplation of all time and all

existence that this life will remain of great concern (Rep. 486a). Philosophy is just not

possible for the multitude (Rep. 494a), a sentiment that is reminiscent of the

description of the ascent passage in the Symposium – most cannot even reach the

bottom level of the ascent.

In Book IX of the Republic, the discussion turns to the happiness or

wretchedness of the tyrant. The tyrant’s state of being is of importance in the overall

question concerning living a just life. The tyrant is also considered mad, something

that will become more significant upon discussion of the Phaedrus. Prior to this point

in the discussion, Socrates and his companions had agreed that there are necessary

and unnecessary appetites (Rep. 558d). Necessary appetites are those that “we

cannot divert or suppress . . . whose satisfaction is beneficial to us” (Rep. 558e).

Unnecessary appetites are the, “desires from which a man could free himself by

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discipline from youth up and whose presence in the soul does no good and in some

cases harm” (Rep. 559a). For example, eating is necessary but eating a variety of food

is considered unnecessary. In the same way that eating is considered necessary so

too is sex, but just as eating many kinds of bread is unnecessary so too can we

consider sex (Rep. 559b – c). In the Republic, appetite is synonymous with passion

and this suggests that there is no possibility of a “little” passion. Therefore, one

must presume that just as eating several varieties of bread is unnecessary, so too is

any pleasure that might be derived from eating the bread – the action fulfills a

physical need that probably would have been done away with were it not a

requirement for existence.

Continuing that line of thought, the discussion delves deeper into the

question of unnecessary appetites. There are some unnecessary appetites that we all

have that appear to be “lawless” but that can be controlled with the use of reason

(Rep. 571b). Interestingly, these desires are awakened when one is “sleeping.” That

is to say, when the rational, gentle and dominant part is not in control, the “beastly

and savage” part will seek to satisfy its own instincts (Rep. 571c). This beastly and

savage part will do anything to become sated; nothing will shame it, “It is ready for

any foul deed of blood; it abstains from no food, and in a word, falls short of no

extreme of folly and shamelessness” (Rep. 571d). However when a man is sober and

healthy, he will be able to control these desires (Rep. 571a – 572b). That is, according

to this description, when reason is in control, a person will not be overtaken with

inappropriate and unnecessary desires.

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The tyrant, however, will not be interested or able to control these desires. He

will give into the frenzy of unsatisfied yearnings, awakened by the appetites:

Why then this protector of the soul has madness for his bodyguard and runs amuck, and if it finds in the man any opinions or appetites accounted worthy and still capable of shame, it slays them and thrusts them forth until it purges him of sobriety and fills and infects him with frenzy brought in from the outside (Rep. 573b).

This description of the tyrannical man becomes all the more interesting because it is

then noted that love has been called a tyrant (Rep. 573c). What kind of love is

tyrannical? Eros is the name of a god and also refers to the word “love.” It is

undeniably a powerful force. In the Symposium, eros was a strong force that was the

impetus for one to begin the ascent and a guiding influence throughout. As we

shall see in the Phaedrus, eros is subsumed within madness that itself is beneficial.

Certainly the love referred to here cannot be considered motivating or beneficial: the

drunk, the madman, the deranged all exhibit this “tyrannical temper” (Rep. 573c).

The tyrant, then, exhibits no control; he is “entirely swayed by the indwelling tyrant

Eros” (Rep. 573d). That is, the tyrant is overcome by his own passions. The force

that for many is the impetus to reproduce, whether it be children or something

higher, in the tyrant exhibits itself as a destructive force – the passion that is typically

exerted outwards is instead internalized. The tyrant, then, is in love with himself,

with his own passions, desires and the fulfillment of those things he believes to be

his own needs.

The tyrannical man never experiences friendship or freedom. He is most evil

and also the most miserable (Rep. 576a – c). The madness of the tyrant is degenerate;

as we shall see, it is not the kind of madness that proves to be beneficial. The tyrant

cannot transcend because he is enslaved to his own desires; it is impossible for any

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but the lover of wisdom to have, “savored the delight that the contemplation of true

being and reality brings” (Rep. 582c). For one to experience true pleasure one must

have transcended and the tyrant is simply led from base pleasure to base pleasure,

never satisfied and never experiencing true pleasure.

The madness of the tyrant is interesting for several reasons. In the Phaedrus,

madness is not equated with tyranny; in fact, it is said to be beneficial. What then

does that mean for the description given here? Just as Plato expanded the meaning

of eros to mean more than mere desire, so too does he expand the definition of

madness to mean more than the madness described here. Madness can actually be

beneficial and as such it should be utilized. Madness in Plato’s new definition also

has a rational component, allowing the possessed to contemplate and make

deliberate decisions.

In the Phaedrus, the most striking argument is in favor of madness and our

personal struggle against physical desire. The dialogue starts with Phaedrus and

Socrates walking outside of the city. The conversation they have is worth

mentioning due to the language that is used by Socrates. It is all in reference to some

kind of pleasure, pleasures that could be considered unnecessary. For example,

when they arrive near the spot where Phaedrus suggests they sit, Socrates is

completely distracted by a tree:

By Hera, it really is a beautiful resting place. The plane tree is tall and very broad; the chase-tree, high as it is, is wonderfully shady, and since it is in full bloom, the whole place is filled with its fragrance. From under the plane tree the loveliest spring runs with very cool water—our feet can testify to that. The place appears to be dedicated to Achelous and some of the Nymphs, if we can judge from the statues and votive offerings. Feel the freshness of the air; how pretty and pleasant it is; how it echoes with the summery, sweet song of the cicadas’ chorus! The most exquisite thing of all, of course, is the grassy slope: it rises so gently that you can rest your head perfectly when you lie down on it (Phdr. 230b).

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Phaedrus remarks that this language and behavior is out of character for Socrates,

who blames his excitement on the impending speeches (Phdr. 230d). I mention this

exchange because the previous dialogues have eschewed pleasure as an unnecessary

aspect of living a good life – even eating and reproducing in the Republic incites no

pleasure. Socrates is not carried away by pleasure such as that evoked by the tree

above in the other dialogues and therefore this seems to be a significant

development. As it turns out, Plato, in broadening the definition of eros and

madness, broadened the extent to which pleasure can be experienced as part of the

philosophical life. That is, since eros and madness are no longer considered as bad or

detrimental as they were in the Symposium or the Republic, neither is unnecessary

pleasure really unnecessary.

Socrates begins his second speech after he is prevented from leaving by his

daimonion (Phdr. 242c). He feels that he has committed an offense against the god of

love, son of Aphrodite, for speaking badly of him (Phdr. 203c).9 In his previous

speech, Socrates had covered his head to speak and asserted that lovers quarrel for

trivial reasons and they are prone to doing harm to one another (Phdr. 243c – d). As

a way of purifying himself, he proposes giving a new speech. His head uncovered,

he begins, saying, “There’s no truth to that story,” referring to the idea that even

when a lover is available, you should give your favors to a person who does not love

you because a non-lover is in control, while the lover has lost his head (Phdr. 244a).

9 This is noteworthy in comparison to the speech in the Symposium given by Socrates in which Diotima is said to have told him that love was the son of Reason and Need, not gods (203b – 204a).

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Socrates now asserts that losing your head is a good thing, that “the best things we

have come from madness” when it is a gift from the gods (Phdr. 244a).

Socrates explains different kinds of madness in this speech. The common

thread through the different kinds is that they are all a form of divine possession.

There is the madness of the priestess and prophecy, the madness of relief—“it give

prophecies and takes refuge in prayers to the gods and in worship” – and finally the

madness of possession by the Muses, which results in the best poetry (Phdr. 244b –

245a).

The highest kind of madness will reside in the soul who has seen the most

prior to becoming human; having seen ‘true reality’ is a prerequisite to residing in a

human soul (Phdr. 250b – c). This soul will be planted in the lover of wisdom or in

the lover of beauty or in a soul cultivated in arts and prone to erotic love (Phdr.

248d). The kind of madness

which someone shows when he has seen beauty we have down here and is reminded of true beauty; he takes wing and flutters in his eagerness to rise up, but is unable to do so; he gazes aloft like a bird, paying no attention to what is below (Phdr. 249d)

sounds like beneficial madness: madness that leads towards ascension! This kind of

madness is the kind of madness that Diotima approved of beginning in step one of

the ascent. Madness as it is portrayed here encourages both the desire to create

aesthetically as well as causing a detachment from the world around. If we will

recall, this is the desired result of both those on the path of ascent in the Symposium

as well as those living the life of the guardian in the Republic. While the guardians

are not described in the Republic as similar to Socrates as he was portrayed in the

Symposium, it strikes me as significant that Socrates was said to be at the bottom of

the ascent. Presumably, the guardians have already begun the process of the ascent.

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Those on the path of ascent aspire to become as the guardians which illuminates the

striking difference of the life said to be the best in the Phaedrus: those who will live

the philosophical life are now described by Plato as suffering from beneficial, i.e.,

rational, madness. Is it truly madness, then? As defined earlier, rational madness

does not deter from a life of contemplation. That is, what is being referred to as

madness is actually an excited state of the soul, an ascent, if you will, towards true

Beauty, inspired by beauty. It is not insanity nor is it delusional – it is the very goal

the initiate has been encouraged to obtain throughout the two other dialogues.

Why, then, was Socrates as he was portrayed in the Symposium and why were

the guardians not encouraged to experience rational madness? I believe that the

madness Plato is holding to be the highest kind of madness, what I have termed

rational madness, was not a fully developed concept for Plato in the earlier

dialogues. In the pre-Phaedrus dialogues discussed in this paper, madness is

portrayed as detrimental to the goal of aspiration, not an aid to it. In the Phaedrus

description, however, madness becomes beneficial to living the best life if it is

inspired by a god. Thus, rational madness in the Phaedrus is considered in a

favorable light. The difference amongst the dialogues is what it means to live the

best philosophical life. In the Symposium, the discussion is centered on the process of

attaining the best life and while a complete picture of how that life is to be led is not

given, the suggestion is that that life will be moderate and that the initiate will be

focused only on achieving that goal – which further suggests that there is not room

for either relationships or rational madness. In the Republic, the best life is the

pseudo-communal life of the philosopher guardians who exist without forming

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lasting interpersonal relationships. Contrary to both of those examples, the Phaedrus

illuminates Plato’s evolved standard concerning the good life, which has become

more extensive due to his expanded understanding of both madness and eros, which

subsequently allows philosophy and interpersonal relationships to co-exist.

In the Symposium, the description of the ascent (210a – 212a) is not unlike the

description of the person possessed by the highest kind of madness in the Phaedrus

(Phdr. 249d). However, the madness referred to in the Symposium is the madness

displayed by Alcibiades, while the process of ascent is interpreted, by Moravcsik for

example, as a process in which reason is the ultimate guide over our decisions, not

madness or eros. While I disagree with Moravcsik’s subordination of eros to reason

in the process of the ascent, I do concur with his interpretation insofar as the process

of ascent is guided by reason, though I believe eros remains influential. Reason, then,

is the most powerful force in the ascent process. Alcibiades, on the other hand, is

portrayed as having no control over his desires and is seemingly mad with love for

Socrates, which is clearly not the beneficial madness described in the Phaedrus.

It is possible to suppose, if we apply the madness and eros of the Phaedrus to

the lives of the guardians, that madness and eros would have become a part of their

lives – and the communal existence would have flourished in a more cohesive and

intimate fashion rather than the impersonal style described in the Republic. The

combination of madness and eros in the Phaedrus was beneficial for those who

aspired to the philosophical life in the Phaedrus. The life of the guardians in the

Republic, on the other hand, was not amenable to the level of intimacy that Plato

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allowed in the Phaedrus.10 Instead, eros in the Republic remained a tyrant, and thus

detrimental to the life of a guardian (Rep. 573d).

Nussbaum argues that the Phaedrus, “displays a new view of the role of

feeling, emotion, and particular love in the good life,” a change that results in

something far more realistic and far less sinister (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 202). Rational

madness is meant to help those possessed by it to achieve the best life Plato believed

anyone could attain: the life of the philosopher.

Our senses fail us and our vision does not allow us to see wisdom, but it does

allow us to see Beauty. Socrates gives descriptions of two types of people, one who

gives into pleasure, “The man long ago initiated or become defiled is not moved by

Beauty itself” (Phdr. 250e). Instead of reverence and awe when he sees the beloved,

he surrenders to pleasure, in the basest form. The other type of person, who does

not give into base pleasure, is a recent initiate who shudders with reverence and awe

when he gazes upon godlike beauty; he feels intense pain when he is away from the

object of desire; powerful desire causes him to behave as if mad, or in love (Phdr.

251a – 252b).11 Socrates says in the Phaedrus that this is any true lover’s heart’s

desire, and that, “this friend who has been driven mad by love will secure a

consummation for the one he has befriended that is as beautiful and blissful as I

have said – if, of course, he captures him” (Phdr. 253c).12

10 Compare Rep. 457d, 458d to Phdr. 256b-257a. 11 This sounds quite similar to the reaction Socrates had to Alcibiades in the Symposium (213d)! 12 “Consummation”: We follow Rowe and most manuscripts in reading telute, but most editors prefer telete, “initiation.” The meaning is essentially the same; the consummation of the love affair comes when the lover shares his madness with the one he loves. For an ironic parallel, see 234d above” (Phdr. 253c, footnote 110).

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Referring to a previous metaphor, Socrates explains that in order to capture

the lover, one must exercise self-control over the erotic instincts (Phdr. 253d). He

explains the metaphor as a struggle between opposing forces led by a charioteer, a

guiding force. Socrates claims that if one allows the good to overpower the bad, he

will realize, “all the friendships he has had from his other friends and relatives put

together is nothing compared to that of a friend inspired by a god” (Phdr. 255b).

This is not to say that one must remove his desires and appetites, but merely to

control them, not unlike the charioteer controlled his horses. If the good were to

overpower the bad through the guiding force of the reason, the initiate will realize

that the love of a friend inspired by a god (presumably referring to eros as well as

madness) causes all other friendships to pale in comparison. If the initiate is

controlled by reason, which is influenced by eros, he will experience a pure love

unlike any other. While his desires will be overpowered by love and reason, desire

itself will not cease to be a part of him.13 Therefore, his aspiration will continually

aim at higher goals, at objects more worthy of eros in order to live not only the best

life but also to ensure his own immortality beyond the prospect of creating mortal

children.

In a definite departure from the description of the relationships of the

guardians in the Republic, Plato asserts that the person who is most able to control

his desires will be able to share with another person, a life of “bliss and shared

understanding” (Phdr. 256a). Because those concerned with excellence are able to

control the parts of themselves that Plato assumes are detrimental, they are able to

concentrate their lives on ascent towards objects more worthy of eros without 13 In this instance, desire refers to lust.

36

neglecting themselves or each other, “There is no greater good than this that either

human self control or divine madness can offer a man” (Phdr. 256b). That is, because

they are able to focus on gaining vision of true Beauty, they are able to experience

the beauty of the other unique individual in the best possible way, which includes

erotic attachment, because the relationship is between equals who have the same

goal. If, on the other hand, the lovers choose earthly aspirations over philosophy,

they will one day succumb to their uncontrolled passions and commit the “act

ordinary people would take to be the happiest choice of all” (Phdr. 256c).14 Socrates

explains that while they will live in mutual friendship, it is weaker than that of the

philosophical couple. Mutual friendship is possible because they have exchanged

vows that are too strong to break. Socrates says that after death, “The prize won

from [the] madness of love is considerable . . . Their lives are bright and happy . . .”

(Phdr. 256d). Both of these relationships are striking because it has been contended

that Plato disregards the importance of interpersonal relationships.15

One is inspired to ask at this point if the relationships outlined are indeed

intimate and interpersonal. Perhaps they are just an illustration used by Plato to

prove his point: a life committed to philosophy is the only way to flourish. One

important aspect of the relationships described is that they are a way of life that is

14 “Ambition, the love of timē, is the first step down from philosophy . . . Timē is public recognition or public office” (Phdr. 256c, footnote 117). Compare Rep. 549a-b: “He will have to be somewhat self-willed and lacking in culture, yet a lover of music and fond of listening to talk and speeches, though by no means himself a rhetorician. And to slaves such a one would be harsh, not scorning them as the really educated do, but he would be gentle with the freeborn and very submissive to the officials, a lover of office and honour, not basing his claim to office on ability to speak or anything of that sort but on his exploits in war and preparation for war, and he would be a devotee of gymnastics and hunting . . . And would not such a man be disdainful of wealth too in his youth, but the older he grew the more he would love it because of his participation in the covetous nature and because his virtue is not sincere and pure since it lacks the best guardian?” 15 For criticism of this view see Nussbaum, “The speech of Alcibiades: a reading of the Symposium,” p. 166 and for support of this view, see Vlastos, “The Individual as an Object of Love in Plato,” p. 26.

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seemingly different from the way of life described in the Symposium and Republic.

That is only a difference on the surface, however. If the initiate moves up in the

ascent, he will abandon things that are distractions. Intimate relationships are part

of the philosophical life in the Phaedrus if the participants have the same goal. In my

interpretation of the Symposium, the ascent process is a solitary endeavor. There

does not seem to be a need for other people as one aspires, which is not to suggest

that there is a need for other people in the Phaedrus, merely to point out that there is a

difference in the description of the philosophical life in the two dialogues. The

difference in the Phaedrus concerns what actually living a philosophical life is like

and it is here that Plato legitimately acknowledges that it can be maintained with

close ties to others. The guardians in the Republic did not have this option – even

mothers were prevented from bonding with their children! Plato’s ideal

philosophical life in the Republic remains just that – an unobtainable ideal and not a

sufficient illustration of what actually living a philosophical life is like. The ideal

lives of the guardians, then, on my interpretation, are somewhat solitary despite the

communal nature of the project. Why the change in the Phaedrus? According to my

account, it seems that relationships are not only allowed but also encouraged and

allowed to develop in such a way to maintain commitment to a life of contemplation

and commitment to truth through reason influenced by eros.

Eros is the beginning stimulus to the ascent and though Moravcsik argued

that eros only gets one so far, it is in fact eros along with reason that will allow one to

maintain that journey. When we lose someone close to us to death, for example, it is

beneficial to have persons around who have experienced a similar situation. People

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returning from combat often cannot speak with those who have not also experienced

the same situation. In a similar fashion, commitment to the goal of vision of true

Beauty is aided by eros. Therefore, my interpretation of the dialogue supports eros

remaining a necessary part of the process in order to attain a good life. I believe that

Plato acknowledges in the Phaedrus more than in the other two dialogues the human

struggle involved in following his ideal path but his objective remains clear: the best

life for humans is that of philosophy, living a life devoted to learning and

contemplation of truth aided by reason and influenced by eros.

If man could see heavenly beauty: “Would you call his . . . an enviable life,

whose eyes were open to the vision, and who had gazed upon it in true

contemplation until it had become his own forever?” (Symp. 211e). The dialogues

examined in this paper clearly show that Plato did envy that life. In the Symposium,

Socrates is portrayed as the role model for self-control though we must recall that he

was at the bottom of the ascent. Alcibiades illustrates the opposite extreme: the

failure to ascend due to devotion to human appetites. The options given are living a

life of devotion to the good or a wasted life in pursuit of personal pleasure and gain.

In the Republic, the guardians must forfeit their individuality for the good of the state

– but would parents truly abandon a child for anything? Plato’s ideal city offered

the chance to understand his own conception of justice, perhaps only in the hopes

that it will inspire justice in individuals. In the Phaedrus, relationships are permitted

but the philosophical couple is the most able to flourish because of their commitment

to self control for the sake of the good, although the weaker couple still has a chance

for considerable gain. In the Phaedrus, eros is not transcended as one aspires nor

39

must is it required that one should forfeit personal happiness – however, what is

required will appear mad to one outside the experience. That is, Plato’s emphasis

remains on living the best life in order to attain vision of true Beauty. In previous

explanations, Plato did not suggest that living the best life would be feasible in

conjunction with madness or eros. In the Phaedrus, interpersonal relationships are

not discouraged, though the best kinds are not consummated, which leaves me to

wonder how exactly such a relationship is to develop as well as what exactly that

means. That is, despite his sanction of interpersonal ties in the Phaedrus, there

remains something impersonal between the lovers, possibly because there is not a

level of intimacy one would expect in such a close friendship. This is perhaps due to

the fact that the couple’s minds will be focused on higher things, resulting in their

ability to have and create excellent dialogue but at the expense of a true inter-

personal relationship.16

According to Plato, the best way to live one’s life is as a philosopher. Perhaps

due to his disdain for the ordinary existence of the multitude, Plato outlined a

program that most would not attempt to pursue, conceivably because it is hard to

believe that it does not require personal sacrifice. While philosophy is not for

everyone any more than medicine or mathematics, eros is: the highest happiness 16 See Phdr. 256b: “They are modest and fully in control of themselves now that they have enslaved the part that brought trouble into the soul and set free the part that gave it virtue. After death, when they have grown wings and become weightless, they have won the first of three rounds in these, the true Olympic Contests. There is no greater good than this that either human self-control or divine madness can offer a man.” I have interpreted this to mean that while the philosophical couple will have a phenomenal life and afterlife; it will remain almost as impersonal a relationship as those between the guardians. The less-philosophically inclined couple seems to be more closely connected with the reality of human relationships, though still lacking the element of pleasure, explained when Plato states at 256c-d, “when they have consummated it [their relationship] once, they go on doing this for the rest of their lives, but sparingly, since they have not approved of what they are doing with their whole minds. So these two also live in mutual friendship . . . both while they are in love and after they have passed beyond it, because they realize they have exchanged such firm vows that it would be forbidden for them ever to break them and become enemies.”

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many humans can hope to attain is love of another individual. The best way, then,

for human beings to flourish is to live a life that includes both reason and eros, thus

creating a pleasant harmony within one’s mind and body.

Plato’s description of the life of the philosopher remains consistent

throughout the dialogues in that he always finds eros subordinate to reason, which is

why I do not feel that the Phaedrus is a sufficient prescription for truly living and

flourishing.

He did not successfully integrate the kind of pleasure Socrates experienced at the

beginning of the Phaedrus with living the philosophical life. Even Socrates dismissed

his assertions of pleasure as merely frivolous amusements (Phdr. 230d). Pleasure is

never accorded a rightful place in the life of the philosopher, according to my

interpretation. While interpersonal ties are allowed in the Phaedrus, it is only to a

certain extent and even then the emphasis remains on the minds rather than both the

body and the mind. Just as the definitions of eros and madness were expanded in

such a way so as to understand them as beneficial to the life of the philosopher, so

too can the definition of pleasure be expanded.

Pleasure in the works discussed here refers to sensual enjoyment as the chief

object in life – for example, one could say that Alcibiades’ life was merely a quest for

pleasure. This is perhaps due to Plato’s understanding of the distinction between

the mind and the body. He seems to have associated pleasure with satisfaction of

bodily desires, which he equates with excess and licentious behaviour. However,

this does not take the entire suggestion of the term into consideration. Pleasure also

suggests enjoyment of good or desirable things, not necessarily tied to desires of the

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body. Plato’s version of the best life remains unsatisfactory because he never fully

integrates pleasure. Plato’s goal throughout the dialogues remained aspiration

towards vision of true Beauty, the very reason “man’s life is ever worth the living”

(Symp 211d). That life remains incomplete, however, due to the solitary nature of

the ascent in the Symposium, the superficial relationships among the guardians in the

Republic and, to an extent, even the relationships of the philosophical and honour

seeking couples in the Phaedrus. The couples, while joined in a union and as such

minutely closer to attaining real-world happiness, are not able to fully incorporate

pleasure, the simple enjoyment that comes from noticing such a thing as the song of

the cicada (Phdr. 230c).

Plato viewed the body as a temporary shell that was of little importance; I

think that there is a certain connection he missed between the life of the mind and

that of the body. I agree with Nussbaum’s assertion that, “the Republic seriously

underestimates the complexity of our appetitive nature when it ignores the aesthetic

side of appetitive activity and the complex connections between such activity and

other valuable ends” (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 153). She goes on to illustrate the

difference between needs such as scratching and eating –

We tend to be critical of persons who do view appetitive pursuits merely instrumentally, eating merely in order to still a hunger, and to praise those who are capable of entering into such activities in a way that endows them with intrinsic value: the gourmet, the connoisseur of wines, the person who can treat a sexual partner as an end in him or herself, rather than as a mere means to a state of null tension (Nussbaum, 1986, p. 153).

While Nussbaum is here referring to the state of affairs in the Republic, I think that

the argument can be made for all the dialogues discussed here: Plato disregards the

importance of deriving pleasure from experiencing beauty in our daily lives, from

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finding joy in living, instead focusing on obtaining vision of true Beauty in the next

life. For Plato, pleasure signifies excess and is out of control while intellectual

pursuits are devoid of irrationality and chaos. The pleasure that I have asserted

would be of benefit is not chaos but refined, for example, not the pleasure the wino

derives from drinking alcohol but the pleasure derived by the wine connoisseur.

Herein lies the ultimate failure of Plato’s prescription for life: instead of creating

something better than oneself through acceptance of one’s life and fate, amor fati,

Plato demanded creation of something higher than oneself despite oneself. Nietzsche

once said, “if there were gods, how could I endure not to be a god! Hence there are

no gods” (Nietzsche, 1954, pp. 198). Plato’s argument seems to be that not only are

there gods but that we can become gods. Plato’s insistence on the transcendence of

reason over eros and creativity was his ultimate undoing. By asserting that reason is

the most valuable part of our souls to develop, he ignored the other aspects of one’s

soul that can aid equally in one’s development.

Plato concern in the dialogues is not with what it means to actually live a

philosophical life. He is, rather, concerned with the successfully mastering the

process which will allow one to obtain vision of true Beauty. In so doing, he

disregards aspects of being human that are quite difficult to ignore such as the flaws,

the emotions and the conflicts. These dialogues do not leave us with a clear picture

of what a philosophical life would actually be like because the focus is always

elsewhere, towards the world of the Forms.17 While this is a lofty goal, even an

admirable goal, it is unrealistic.18 Living one’s life in such away as to rely on the

17 Rep. 619b, 621c, for example. 18 See Symp. 211a – e.

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hope that there is another world that is infinitely better than this one causes one to

disregard living this life to its full potential. If one is merely seeking to regain a lost

memory19, then what remains in this life to deem it worth living?

We need not only to live but also to love to live and I contend that while the

dialogues give us ideas concerning what it means to live an excellent life, they do not

fully take into consideration the significance enjoying the life one has in this world.

While there may indeed be gods, we cannot become them nor should we even try.

That is, perfection is not an obtainable goal for humans. The dialogues only take us

so far in what it means to truly live a philosophical life. The question of what makes

a life worth living as it is discussed in the dialogues includes seeking to live a

virtuous, just and thereby excellent life. How that life is actually to be led changes

through the course of the dialogues, in the end that includes interpersonal

relationships, though without fully integrating pleasure. Plato never modified the

definition of pleasure beyond the connotation of the sensual, much to my chagrin.

Indeed, pleasure need merely suggest joy, laughter, as well as eros, “for in laughter

all that is evil comes together, but is pronounced holy by its own bliss; and if this is

my alpha and omega, that all that is heavy and grave should become light; all that is

body, dancer; all that is spirit, bird – and verily, that is my alpha and omega . . .”

(Nietzsche, 1954, 342).

19 see Phdr. 250a.

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