The writing of Paying Melpomene’s Price has taken me to the final showdown between tragedy, comedy, history, and philosophy. They each have a different worldview. That’s why they’re different genres. Or at least that’s what I’m going to argue. The sections outlining the differences between tragedy, comedy, and history are in the process. I’ve been holding off on the philosophy section though. Philosophy intimidates me a little more than the other genres. Because it’s about thinking, it always involves more thinking. So, to get me into the swing of things, I’m rereading Plato.
Rouse’s Translation of Plato
On the bookcase is an edition of Plato’s Complete Works published by Hackett, Burnyeat’s Theaetetus (which will be next on the reading list: epistemology suddenly has become interesting), a Penguin edition of The Republic, an Adam and Bryn Mawr commentary on the same, a Skemp monograph on the state of Plato studies in 1976 (when I was two years old), a Stokes commentary on The Apology, and The Great Dialogues of Plato translated by W. H. D. Rouse. The Hackett edition is hardcover and bigger than my hardcover bible. The Rouse edition is paperback and small. The Rouse edition it is. There’s a certain pleasure in reading a paperback sitting in the comfortable rocking chair listening to music. The big hardcover wouldn’t be the same, although I am sure Hackett makes a fine edition.
Here’s the cover illustration. If you guessed it is from the 50s, you guessed right!
I love these 50s covers. But unfortunately, the gold bar after ‘Symposium’ on the cover looks like it covers something up: maybe there was one more dialogue that was in the original scheme of things but got deleted when it went to press?
Here’s the back blurb:
‘Plato is philosophy, and philosophy Plato.’ – Emerson
The Republic and other great dialogues by the immortal Greek philosopher Plato, masterpieces which form part of the most important single body of writing in the history of philosophy, are here translated in a modern version. Beauty, Love, Immortality, Knowledge and Justice are discussed in these dialogues which magnificently express the glowing spirit of Platonic philosophy.
This paperbound volume, containing more dialogues than any other inexpensive edition, was translated by W. H. D Rouse, one of the world’s most outstanding classical scholars and the translator of Homer’s The Odyssey and The Iliad.
I wonder how Rouse (one of the greatest scholars in the world) felt when he read that Mentor Books chose to use his laborious translation in their budget and inexpensive series! Powerful quote from Emerson. If I recall, like Plato, he was an idealist as well…
Well, reading Plato is just fun. I’ve read The Apology in translation as part of a first year philosophy class and I’ve also read it in Greek in a fourth year language class. Plato grows on you as well. Before, I thought that his hero Socrates was annoying as hell. But after reading Kant and Hegel, it’s very nice returning to Plato. Socrates is always walking around. He’s talking to people. It’s much more welcoming than something like The Critique of Pure Reason. Returning to Plato is like listening to Led Zeppelin. Growing up I never much appreciated Zeppelin. But now, Zeppelin has grown on me to the point where I can say I rather enjoy them.
Ageism in The Apology
In the recent survey of historiography, it came to my attention that one could write speculative history based on conflicting dichotomies. In 1 and 2 Kings, history is based on good and bad kings, kings who ‘do evil’ or ‘do right’ in the sight of the Lord. And in Marx, the class struggle between proletariat and bourgeois is what gives shape to history. What other conflicting dichotomies are there? How about between young and old? Someone could certainly make the argument that recent history (1960s) is shaped by the conflict between the young (change) and old (tradition).
This was on my mind as I was reading Plato, and, when I got to The Apology, it seemed like there may have been something of a prejudice against age going on in his trial. Here’s a summation of what happens in The Apology for those of you who haven’t read it in a long time (I would imagine that is most people!):
The trial of Socrates took place in 399 B.C. when he was seventy years old. Meletos, Anytos and Lycon (Anytos is one of the characters in the Meno) accused him of impiety and of corrupting the young men.
The court which tried Socrates was composed of 501 citizens, and was a subdivision of the larger court of six thousand citizens, chosen by lot, which dealt with such cases. There were no judge and jury in the modern sense; the decision of the court was that of the majority vote.
When the court had pronounced Socrates guilty, the law required him to propose his own penalty, as an alternative to the death penalty proposed by Meletos; no penalty was prescribed by law for his offence. The court then had to choose, by a second vote, between the proposals of the accuser and the accused.
From the mention on page 439 it appears that Plato himself was present at the trial.
With respect to age, Socrates emphasizes in the opening statement how old he is and how speaking in the court is an entirely new thing to an old dog. As well, the charge is that he corrupts the youth. So there is this old-young dichotomy at the get go.
Then there are the repeated jabs at the vanity of the punishment: at 70, he is about to die anyways. 70 must have been back then an exceedingly long time to have lived. In addition, there are the references to how he would have more supporters, if they were not already dead, such as Theodotus and Chairephon. It seems Socrates is a bit like Gandalf at the end of the Lord of the Rings: his age is past. The new ‘age of man’ dawns…
Socrates himself categorizes his listeners as young or old, though there is no real advantage to his defence in doing so: ‘if anyone desires to hear me speaking or doing my business, whether young or old, I have never grudged it to any’, he says.
Lastly, most telling is the age of his accusers. There were three. In his cross-examination, the age of one of them is made clear: ‘Oh, dear me, Meletos’, says Socrates, ‘I so old and you so you and yet you are so much wiser than I am!’.
So, it is my conjecture that there is a bit of ageism going on. Like class struggle, or the clash between good and evil, there is a bit of an ‘age struggle’ that works as an agent of history motivating things to happen. It could also be seen as the conflict between change and tradition, with the young representing change and the old as representing tradition. In some ages, tradition wins out. In others, change wins out.
I wonder if a historian has written a speculative theory of history with ageism as the motivating factor. Or would this just be a form of discrimination? What do you think?
Until next time, I’m Edwin Wong and I’m Doing Melpomene’s Work in my middle years between liberalism and conservatism.