"[A]s
the satisfactions of the body decay, in the same measure my desire
for the pleasures of good talk and my delight in them increase. "
-
Plato, The Republic, 1.32
[328δ]
In
context, this quote is the start of a discourse between Socrates and
Cephalus, a wealthy old man of some prominence that defines
the conversation of justice
in book one of The Republic.
One has to wonder who this old man is, and, even further, why it is
that, after this definition is made, Cephalus himself, who seeks this
conversation, is not heard of within the conversation. However,
beyond this note of context, I do not wish to go into further
elaboration. This may be saved for another time, and maybe after
reading Peter J. Steinberger's political theory piece Who Is Cephalus?,
as this question does interest me, and I would like to have a more
educated opinion to ponder on before writing more on this. Plus, the
question of who Socrates is talking to is not the focus for this
writing as much as what is being said in the above written quote.
Though, I will add one interesting bit of trivia about the etymology of the name Cephalus, which has meaning as a type of Mediterranean fish that is also called a mullet. Not to be confused with the hair style, which may or may not have been that of the old man's at the time. Generally, the mullet most often referred to is the gray, or silver mullet, which, if Cephalus is a fictional name, or pseudonym for a real person, may have played on the notion of the man being called Cephalus as being a gray old fish in the pond of life. Being that I myself enjoy a bit of word play in my own writing, I certainly wouldn't deny Plato in his authorship his own bit of word play as well.
Though, I will add one interesting bit of trivia about the etymology of the name Cephalus, which has meaning as a type of Mediterranean fish that is also called a mullet. Not to be confused with the hair style, which may or may not have been that of the old man's at the time. Generally, the mullet most often referred to is the gray, or silver mullet, which, if Cephalus is a fictional name, or pseudonym for a real person, may have played on the notion of the man being called Cephalus as being a gray old fish in the pond of life. Being that I myself enjoy a bit of word play in my own writing, I certainly wouldn't deny Plato in his authorship his own bit of word play as well.
Anyways,
what is the focus for this addition to the Curriculum
has more to do with hedonism. No, this pondering is by no means an
advocacy for hedonism, as much as it is considering what is meant by
the term, especially in correspondence to how pleasure is understood.
It should not in any way be shocking to any credible writer or avid
reader of history and
philosophy that the ancient
Greeks were a rather hedonistic people. There are those that baptize
the culture and philosophy of the Greeks, and thus put on
the filters of purification on when it comes to the Greeks and the
Romans. As a person that can be defined as Roman Catholic because I
have joined the Latin rite of the Catholic Church, I can understand
this tendency to try to baptize the old philosophers, to whom we like
to see as the gentile prototypes of saints. By no means do I mean to
say that Plato was not a good man, and that he wasn't seeking after
virtue through his love of wisdom. However, it would be unwise, and
thus even un-philosophical, to
set any philosopher on a pedestal and believe that such a person is merely to be listened to,
regurgitated, and spewed out of mouth unthinkingly and without some
examination. Plato himself would not want people to go without
examining what he said and did, for certainly he learned well from
his master Socrates that “The unexamined life is not worth living”
(Apology, 38a).
By no means was this intended as an example of a good reason for
euthanasia – at least not in the terms that we speak of today.
Albeit, we live in a time that is of similar hedonistic tendencies as
the Greeks of Plato and Socrates' time. But the 'happy death' that
Socrates might consider has to be principally understood in the
context of which Socrates stated what he did. Therefore, to backtrack
on the passage, we shall
add to the fuller context this much of the passage:
“[I]f I again say that to talk every day about virtue and the other things about which you hear me talking and examining myself and others is the greatest good to man, and that the unexamined life is not worth living, you will believe me still less. This is as I say, gentlemen, but it is not easy to convince you. Besides, I am not accustomed to think that I deserve anything bad.” (ibid.)
“[I]f I again say that to talk every day about virtue and the other things about which you hear me talking and examining myself and others is the greatest good to man, and that the unexamined life is not worth living, you will believe me still less. This is as I say, gentlemen, but it is not easy to convince you. Besides, I am not accustomed to think that I deserve anything bad.” (ibid.)
In
this part of the Apology,
we may consider, then, that what pleasure Socrates may have in his
love for wisdom is less about bodily pleasures, or even a devotion to
intelligence and book learning, as we may call the studies of the
arts and sciences today. Wisdom, therefore, is greater than knowledge
and craft, and part of that greatness is linked in some manner to
one's ability to examine one's self. But why is this so? What
pleasure is there in a life examined? Most of us in the usual sense
of the term hedonism seek to maximize pleasure by minimizing pain.
What good would there be in making a critical examination of one's
life, especially when it can bring about painful memories from the
past? For the past few
centuries, the liberal
theory, even within so-called republics from so-called enlightened,
or progressive revolutions, the common view has been established that
we are not to reflect on the past, but ever continue to move forward,
regardless what mistakes we may make as we
fumble our way out of the
dark ages
of the past, despite a
certain blindness that
comes while
looking into the future. We are to be confident, and not look to
our blind sides as we stumble forward and make progress into that
unknown future. It would therefore be wrong in this progressive
mindset to ask the hard question of “Why?” not only because it's
hard, and thus a painful act
in and of itself, but also
because, in asking the
question, it triggers the
further pain that comes from
actually having to look back and examine one's life, especially in
looking upon the mistakes we've made. So,
if a life examined is painful, and we are to maximize pleasure, then
why in the world would anyone who claims to seek after virtue and
wisdom as its own good pleasure say that an unexamined life is not
worth living? Not that I can say that I can give the best and most
authoritative answer, but this question is perfect to ponder when it
comes to reflecting upon the old gray fish Cephalus' statement that
was quoted at the beginning of this writing.
Before
going more in depth, let's first have a look at the Greek of our
principle passage:
ὡς
εὖ ἴσθι ὅτι ἔμοιγε ὅσον αἱ ἄλλαι αἱ
κατὰ τὸ σῶμα ἡδοναὶ ἀπομαραίνονται,
τοσοῦτον αὔξονται αἱ περὶ τοὺς λόγους
ἐπιθυμίαι τε καὶ ἡδοναί.
-
Plato, The Republic,
1.32 [328δ]
And,
for those that are not familiar with the Greek lexicons, here is a
transliteration:
hos
eu isthi hoti empoige hoson hai alla hai kata to soma hedonai
apomarainontai, tosounton auxontai haiperi tous logous epithymiai te
kai hedonai.
-
Plato, The Republic,
1.32 [328δ]
I'll
go ahead and give as literal as possible an interpretation I can, and
explain the reason for it after. So, here's the personal
interpretation, in as literal a fashion as I can state it:
"[T]hus
I would rightly have you know that I, at least in as much as it
follows accordingly that, as the body's hedonism withers away and
dies, so too in greatness increases thus for these words that are
yearned for and taken pleasure in."
-
Plato, The Republic, 1.32 [328δ]
As can be seen, to more literally write out the Greek, it takes more
words to phrase the meaning. While, as The Judge stated this morning
at the men's group meeting, it can be said that Latin is a much more
straightforward language than English, it can also be said that Greek
is much less straightforward than both. Latin and English are much
more to the point, whereas Greek can take a while to unpack, making
it necessary to read, re-read, review, and continue to examine to
really get the meaning. In some ways, Latin, but most especially
English, have become languages that are a matter of processing
information, accounting for data and trying to store and document
knowledge. Greek is a language of words, a language that desires
conversation. Indeed, the Greeks took conversation as a matter of
pleasure. We, as well as our Latin predecessors in the West, prefer
action over conversation – to shoot first, ask questions later, so
to say. However much these tendencies in the language may open or
close our engagement with words, and, as follows, our interactions
and relationships with people, the “Why?” question that is
important here is: Why do we speak at all? Following that question
might be: What is the point of speech, or: How do we use speech?
Essentially, what is the purpose of words and speaking? Again, I am
not giving 'the' answer, but at least presenting the questions for
people to explore and converse about themselves. This is not
hypothetical per se, as much as provoking the questions for one's own
further personal examination of them. A hypothetical would merely be
a matter of rhetoric used to win an argument, rather than questions
posed to strike up conversation. And, yes, I do understand that, in
writing, this conversation can seem rather one-way, since, other than
in comments posted, there is not as much back and forth interaction.
However, the questions need not be re-stated or posed back to me, as
much as be something to reflect on with one's inner dialogue.
To understand how I intend this inner conversation, let us first
consider λόγος (logos). Christians in the West have at
best a basic understanding of this word as meaning, well, 'word'.
While we mystically speak of it in regards to the Divine Logos, or The Word, in both speaking about the Bible as the Word of God, and,
further, Jesus Christ our Lord as the Word of God made flesh, we are
typically mystified about what really this means. It is interesting
to note that logos can be used basically to speak about
computation, which may appeal to our computer mindset that tries to
process data and information. This serves well for the modern notion
that words are mainly used as ways to imprint some sort of idea onto
the brain to later recall as needed. Yet, while we may find this sort
of idea appealing in this technical age we are in, the metaphor does
not hold water to the fact that the brain is not a computer. It is
far more complex than even the greatest supercomputer out there,
despite that said supercomputer may be able to process data at
incredibly fast speeds. But all the computer does is store that data.
It does not, in the sense that we do, experience data in any
meaningful way that brings forth an interpretation of that data. The
computer may give us that data, but we, the person, the human being,
has the ability to interpret that data and give it meaning. It's like
how a book, or series of books can contain many words, and, thus
stores a certain amount of information. However, if a person does not
read those books, what would be the point of storing all that
information? Likewise, you can have a website like Wikipedia that has
people able to write and edit information. But, if no one goes to
Wikipedia to read that information, what would be the point of that
website? In a darker example, we ought not forget that the vast
number of pornographic websites would not be out there if it were not
for the fact that people go to them, seeking some sort of promised
pleasure that our hedonistic culture claims we ought to seek after,
as long as we do no harm to others. And yet, how do we even define
what does and does not harm people, save through words, through
logos, through finding some sort of common language? For
better or, more likely, for worse, those who produce porn have found
a certain common language that attracts people in the actions and
provocations of sex and lust. In similar manner, too, has the
language of violence become the language common in most movies due to
this unfortunate commonality of the experiences of violence found in
all cultures and walks of life for us humans. But these only speak
upon the conditions, assertions, and promises, however true or false,
that can be found in logos, and not so much the principle
commands or resolutions, or even the matter of responsibility that
ought to come with logos. For eventually, after being
introduced to language, it follows that we eventually come to a point
where we seek a reason or right to our words and why we speak them.
When, in logos, it stands to reason, and thus use our
faculties of sense and experience we find it in our position to make
propositions a need, if not desire to give an account as to why we take
the position we do. Even if we do not, by our dissent, we can make
the negative consent to an authority absent of reason, which tries to
usurp reason with silence, and may suppress others to remain silent
in order to avoid accountability for one's words and actions.
As it is, hedonism tends to be, when speaking mostly of the bodily
pleasures, something that contrasts with the mental pleasures. This
is how it appears to follow, if we only consider, as Cephalus seems to
in the principle quote, that the reason old people may enjoy
conversation more than a sensual touch is because the body is
decaying in power to enjoy those physical pleasures. Even if such an
understanding may be so, some of the Baby Boomers that are still
fighting to stay young are likely to have a fit over this idea that
they are too old for sensual pleasures. For others, living hard
young has, through drugs and promiscuity in sex, led to decadence in
both body and mind, which hinders the ability to have pleasure even
in conversation. For these reasons can one understand, if they are
so inclined to give consent to reason, that pleasure without virtue
is no pleasure at all. Rather, such pleasure becomes vice, ensnaring
a person in a certain addictive state to sensuality, that true caring
touch and enjoyment dies, and, conversely, so too does one's faculty
to reason properly fade. Without being able to examine one's life,
such a person eventually loses life and the true freedoms that come
from being able to take one's life story into account.
From a Christian view on this, we can look to the principle of Creation.
That is, we look to God and can consider as in the beginning of St.
John's gospel:
“All things were made by him: and without him was made nothing that
was made.”
- John 1:3
The Latin states this as:
Omnia
per ipsum facta sunt: et sine ipso factum est nihil, quod factum est.
- John 1:3
What is interesting to consider is the use of facta/factum.
We derive the English word 'fact' from this Latin term. To even
consider our term and its meaning for 'truth' of a thing, we cannot
deny the principle meaning of the Latin in the making of the term and
its first cause. There is no way to achieve a fact in opinion, and
so we must discern between an actual achievement and a fictional
component. We speak of facts as nouns, Latin speaks of it in action.
But then, Latin also speaks of logos, or 'word' in terms of
action, considering that verbum is the Latin term that we get
the English term that defines actions as verbs. Thus, words have
little meaning without the actual achievements that the words seek to
give an account of. We may be able to give an opinion about an
action, but the opinion means less than the actual action. Even if
you dislike an action, that opinion about the action does not deny
that the action took place. You can deny it took place, but,
regardless of yours, or anyone's denial that the action took place,
the fact still remains that it did indeed, in actuality, take place.
What pleasure can come from actually admitting that an action took
place, especially if that action was a bad one? Why reflect on it?
Why examine that part of one's life, especially if it's a painful
memory?
From the point of view of being a Catholic, the account I
can give for virtue on this is that confession of bad things does
provide for grace and forgiveness, if not from the people you've done
wrong to, then at least (and even most importantly) in the eyes of God and His mercy. People are
sometimes afraid to go to Confession because they feel they are being
judged. That is a common opinion, and thus a fiction that works
against a person. This fiction in the opinion leads to people not
being able to receive grace, not because God is denying them such,
but because the person holding the particular opinion has bound
themselves up in that fiction. Yet, if they were to choose to break
that bond and enter into Confession, they would be freed and able to
enter into God's grace and mercy.
This pleasure in the joy of
realizing the fact that God seeks to forgive you, seeks to give you
His grace to abide in, is something that the hedonistic pleasures are
unable to do. For the pleasures of hedonism intend to bind and
prevent one from being able to open their eyes to true enlightenment,
and thus making a proper examination of conscience that can lead to
making a good act of contrition. Therefore, a Catholic with this sort
of understanding might interpret what Cephalus stated through
St. Paul, who himself stated, “I die daily” ( I Cor. 15:31a).
That is, we know
that while God does desire us to have joy, the temporal pleasures
sought in hedonism do not lead to that true joy. Following virtue
and seeking truth through a vigilant justice is hard, even painful, but yet
leads to actual rewards, rather than fictional promises of hedonism that may or may
not come to pass. Granted, we may not see the fruits of our
achievements in virtuous vigil during while dwelling in these temporal days, but that is
because the reward for living out a truly good and Godly life is not
temporal, but eternal. Even if we may become an unsung saint who's
deeds go unnoticed by the world, they do not go unnoticed to God.
Certainly accountability is not merely important to stay out of
trouble among men, but because the better we get in examining our
lives, the better conversation we can have when we go to meet our
maker, when we see God face to face, and have to see ourselves for
who we truly are. If we deny ourselves the ability to examine
ourselves now, how much harder might that conversation with God be
when we meet Him face to face? Much more, how much are we, by
denying having the conversation now, denying what grace and goodness
may come in starting the conversation with God in this life?
Therefore, if you have yet to introduce yourself to God, there is
no better time than now to do so. Contrary to how the Greeks saw
things, it can be a pleasure to speak with our Father. Indeed, it
can be one of the greatest pleasures anyone can ever have, but so
many are afraid to have it. Yet Jesus wasn't afraid to introduce us
to the Father, and further teach us the Our Father, the Lord's Prayer, as a prayer to
begin that conversation with the Father. And through Christ, as both
Son of God and Son of Man, we have been given a great opportunity to
not just be introduced to our Heavenly Father, but to also ourselves
to become sons and daughters of the Father through Christ. When you
think about it, there is no greater pleasure anyone can have than to
be a part of the family of Christ. But first, you have to be willing
to strike up the conversation and then listen to the Divine Logos,
and then begin living that examined life in the Lord.
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