. Spinning .

This is what I’m up against:

"Now, the beginning is unbegotten, for that which is begotten has a beginning; but the beginning is begotten of nothing, for if it were begotten of something, then the begotten would not come from a beginning. But if unbegotten, it must also be indestructible; for if beginning were destroyed, there could be no beginning out of anything, nor anything out of a beginning; and all things must have a beginning."

Faulkner’s a piece of cake compared to this spot in Phaedrus, where Socrates is really just beginning, after having begotten mere rhetoric, to get to the crux of the matter of love.  I do believe that Plato writes the setting and the setup one-third way into the essay more to get one prepared for what is to come, and in his wisdom, knowing one has spent time and effort to get this far, shall continue on to read the ending, knowing well that only then shall it all become evident to the reader.

So therefore, I am grateful I suppose, for the misbegotten beginning.

(If posting henceforth ceases, it is most likely due to a lack of computer access allowed to patients.)

In his comment to a prior post, Mark brings up what I have been purposely avoiding, or justifying on terms meant to allow the reading to apply to modern times and society.

There is no denying that in Symposium and Phaedrus the focus is upon man as lover, young boy as the beloved.  I have discounted this focus as primary for many reasons.  For one, I would feel that whether it be heterosexual or homosexual, abiding love that encompasses romance, lust, and friendship and esteem, they are no different from each other in theory or depth.  Secondly, while it is apparently clear that sexual love is included in these discussions, the same good and bad would apply in either case; the jealousies, the transitory nature, the demeaning and debasement that love can arouse just as the ecstacy and joy of fulfillment will be there.  I would think that what the Philosophers are seeking and focusing upon is the intimacy of the meeting of minds of the lovers, something that again can be achieved in any form of relationship.

But there is something else here that need be updated, and that is the current societal view of what would be considered pedophilia in a sexual relationship defined by Phaedrus, Socrates, and the others.  It is clear that Socrates, in discussing love, uses this as an example:

"Now the lover is not only unlike his beloved, but he forces himself upon him. For he is old and his love is young, and neither day nor night will he leave him if he can help; necessity and the sting of desire drive him on, and allure him with the pleasure which he receives from seeing, hearing, touching, perceiving him in every way. And therefore he is delighted to fasten upon him and to minister to him. But what pleasure or consolation can the beloved be receiving all this time? Must he not feel the extremity of disgust when he looks at an old shrivelled face and the remainder to match, which even in a description is disagreeable, and quite detestable when he is forced into daily contact with his lover; moreover he is jealously watched and guarded against everything and everybody, and has to hear misplaced and exaggerated praises of himself, and censures equally inappropriate, which are intolerable when the man is sober, and, besides being intolerable, are published all over the world in all their indelicacy and wearisomeness when he is drunk."

And elsewhere, in Symposium, the youth is described as not having yet come to beard.  But there are centuries of changes in the age of puberty, and so I have for the most part, read around this designation as well.  Then too, society and cultures vary; nine years of age may be considered by some to be a good age for marriage for a young girl.  In our own society, while only a century ago sixteen was fine and twenty for a young woman was considered nearly an "old maid," through the past several decades the age for both men and women has risen.  Thirty is common for women, thirty-five or older for men to consider marriage.  This of course also ties in with the rising level of longevity as well, and the childbearing years of women.

So as I read more into Phaedrus to reach into Socrates’ final argument (after all the friendly discourse of the first section, and the deniably valid argument of the second), I do hope that I am not bringing into the reading a preconceived notion that will change the wisdom of the words.  But as with Symposium (not necessary with Consolation of Philosophy), I will seek out research notes to help with the conclusions and proper understanding of the piece.

From Socrates’ opening speech, we catch a glimmer of the selfishness of love:

"He who is the victim of his passions and the slave of pleasure will of course desire to make his beloved as agreeable to himself as possible. Now to him who has a mind discased anything is agreeable which is not opposed to him, but that which is equal or superior is hateful to him, and therefore the lover Will not brook any superiority or equality on the part of his beloved; he is always employed in reducing him to inferiority."

Speaking still in the theory of lover and beloved, we see a very common fault of loving, in that manner of control, one over the other.  While man may desire a love of someone whom he would hold of highest esteem, it often fails to satisfy as it holds the danger of that person realizing, as does the lover, that the lover is unworthy. 

You see it all the time: the husband who is controlling of his wife; the short balding rich man with the gorgeous blonde on his arm who doesn’t have a brain beneath the halo of shining hair.  These lovers seek love in a self-indulgent manner, find someone who will make others jealous to see them, and yet privately knowing that the person has a flaw of sorts that keeps them dependent upon them. 

I’m not sure yet where Socrates is leading us with this, but most likely it is towards a goal of a purer love that is not for flattery, but for itself and its own purpose.

Something about the style of Plato’s essays, his use of what was common then, the play and interaction of the actors, permits a wonderful sense of realism to his lectures.

Phaedr: Now, Socrates, what do you think? Is not the discourse excellent, more especially in the matter of the language?

Soc. Yes, quite admirable; the effect on me was ravishing. And this I owe to you, Phaedrus, for I observed you while reading to be in an ecstasy, and thinking that you are more experienced in these matters than I am, I followed your example, and, like you, my divine darling, I became inspired with a phrenzy.

Phaedr. Indeed, you are pleased to be merry.

Soc. Do you mean that I am not in earnest?

Phaedr. Now don’t talk in that way, Socrates, but let me have your real opinion; I adjure you, by Zeus, the god of friendship, to tell me whether you think that any Hellene could have said more or spoken better on the same subject.

Soc. Well, but are you and I expected to praise the sentiments of the author, or only the clearness, and roundness, and finish, and tournure of the language? As to the first I willingly submit to your better judgment, for I am not worthy to form an opinion, having only attended to the rhetorical manner; and I was doubting whether this could have been defended even by Lysias himself; I thought, though I speak under correction, that he repeated himself two or three times, either from want of words or from want of pains; and also, he appeared to me ostentatiously to exult in showing how well he could say the same thing in two or three ways.

Phaedr. Nonsense, Socrates; what you call repetition was the especial merit of the speech; for he omitted no topic of which the subject rightly allowed, and I do not think that any one could have spoken better or more exhaustively.

Soc. There I cannot go along with you. Ancient sages, men and women, who have spoken and written of these things, would rise up in judgment against me, if out of complaisance I assented to you.

In the sarcasm of Socrates, in the willingness to play with words with his friend, and with the final statement that he does disagree, Plato reiterates what Phaedrus has just spoken of, the honesty of those who are not lovers, because the fear of loss and disapproval does not interfere.

Plato usually seems to let Socrates listen carefully, declaring himself less wise or knowledgable, and then, through clever and gentle discourse reveals the truth that often can refute without derision what has been said by others.  It’s a subtle style of argument and yet bears impact.  Socrates here, I don’t think, is proving Phaedrus’ recital wrong in content, but rather in presentation.  In other words, to question the writing separately from what is said.