Symposium

“So we talked as we walked, and that’s why, as I said at the beginning, I’m quite an expert. If I’ve got to go through it all for you, so be it. Besides, I’ve found in the past that I get an immense amount of pleasure from discussing philosophy myself or listening to others doing so; I don’t even stop to think how much good it’s doing me as well.”

Apollodorus’s description of talking while walking emphasizes that conversation and discovery unfold in and over time. Writing fixes ideas in time, but true dialogue must be lived inside of time, an idea that Plato’s Socrates expresses in Phaedrus as well. One cannot have a dialogue with a sheet of papyrus; it requires exchange of ideas with multiple participants. Plato captures this across the Symposium in the way Socrates questions and banters with Agathon’s guests, interpreting and extrapolating on their responses, which enables ideas to emerge from their conversations. In addition, Socrates’s “speech” is a report of his conversation with Diotima.

“[P]ossession by Love would infuse even utter cowards with courage and make them indistinguishable from those to whom bravery comes most easily. The effect that Love has on lovers is exactly what Homer described, when he talked about a god ‘breathing might’ into some hero or other.”

This extract from the first speech, Phaedrus’s, exemplifies the kind of immortality that creative works achieve, as Diotima suggests later. Throughout the Symposium, characters draw on the thoughts and language of poets, both contemporary (e.g., Sophocles and Euripides) and ancient to the Athenians (e.g., Homer and Hesiod). These poets’ works are part of the collective cultural consciousness of contemporary Athens that the figures in the dialogue belong to and participate in. These works are fixed, but they also continue to be reflected on and interpreted and thus are part of a living tradition. Like Love itself, then, the tradition embodies a duality.

“But it is Love whose fulfillment lies in virtuous, restrained, and moral behaviour from both gods and men who has the greatest power, and is the source of all our happiness. It is he who makes it possible for us to interact on good terms with one another and with our divine masters.”

In his speech, Eryximachus describes Love’s “medicinal” qualities and how it can benefit human life. Elements of his speech later echo in Diotima’s ideas, in particular the idea that Love is an intermediary between gods and men, carrying divine messages. Diotima will put this idea into a larger context of ascent to greater wisdom and goodness, further demonstrating the ways truth emerges through dialogue.

“Love draws our original nature back together; he tries to reintegrate us and heal the split in our nature.”

Aristophanes’s speech, extracted above, centers around a folktale (potentially Aesopic) that contemporary humans are half of a whole, a consequence of having been too powerful and having challenged the gods. As a result, humans go through life pursuing “wholeness,” which Love helps them experience (28). Diotima’s speech will touch on a related idea, notably that by carrying messages between gods and humans, spirits, like Love, “make the universe an interconnected whole” (43). But as in the case of Eryximachus’s speech, Diotima deepens the idea, making it part of a larger argument about Love rather than an end in itself. The tragic sensibility that pervades Aristophanes’s speech is noteworthy because Aristophanes was a comic playwright. The reversal (also evident in the speech by Agathon, a tragedian) demonstrates the way Plato continually revisits dualities.

“He dispenses mildness and dismisses wildness; he is unsparing of goodwill and unsharing of ill-will. He is gracious and gentle, adored by the wise, adored by the gods; craven when absent, prized when present.”

As this extract demonstrates, Agathon’s speech praises Love artfully, using beautiful imagery and turns of phrase. The speech is flowery and effusive, most closely resembling the traditional features of eulogy, but it is also overblown and lacking in substance. This is especially notable because Agathon had, the previous day, won first prize at a festival competition for his tragedies. The tragic poet giving a pretty but shallow speech reverses expectations and provides a mirror of Aristophanes’s speech.

“I was so naive that I thought the point of any eulogy was to tell the truth about the subject!”

The above extract is Socrates responding to Agathon’s speech. He continues that he must have misunderstood their “assignment,” not realizing that it was to deliver “a specious eulogy of Love, rather than actually praise him” (37). Despite his criticism, Socrates calls the previous speeches “attractive” and “wonderful” (37). Socrates’s blunt and somewhat snide assessment exemplifies the kind of brutality Alcibiades later accuses him of, yet it is his honesty that provokes Alcibiades to feel ashamed and admit that he should be striving to improve himself.

“They translate and carry messages from men to gods and from gods to men. They convey men’s prayers and the gods’ instructions, and men’s offerings and the gods’ returns on these offerings.”

Diotima explains that Love is not a god but a spirit, daimon in Greek, meaning divine or superhuman force. As conceptualized by Diotima, these spirits act as “intermediaries” between gods and men who are necessary since “[d]ivinity and humanity cannot meet directly” (43). Thus, spirits are a kind of cosmic glue, connecting parts that are disconnected. Whether Plato intends for Diotima to pull together ideas scattered across the other speeches is debated. Either way, the potential resonances across the speeches demonstrate the idea of philosophy as an initiation process that gradually reveals deeper forms of knowledge, provided the initiate is willing.

“Why procreation? Because procreation is as close as a mortal can get to being immortal and undying. Given our agreement that the aim of love is the permanent possession of goodness for oneself, it necessarily follows that we desire immortality along with goodness, and consequently the aim of love has to be immortality as well.”

In this extract, Diotima explains to Socrates how procreation and immortality are connected. Philosophically, this connection has been debated as specious, but the insights themselves are lauded as profound. Further, Diotima draws on the function of epic: to immortalize the exploits of heroes (who are characterized as superhuman forces in the way Diotima describes Love). In the context of ancient Greek thought, memory is the medium for immortalization. True to the work of dialogue, Diotima incorporates the concept of memory but in a new language suited to her goal to understand Love.

“We’d all prefer to have children of this sort rather than the human kind, and we cast envious glances at good poets like Homer and Hesiod because the kind of children they leave behind are those which earn their parents renown and ‘fame immortal,’ since the children themselves are immortal.”

In this section, Diotima argues that the bond between lover and beloved is likely stronger than the bond between husband and wife because the “children” of the former are “closer to immortality” than actual children (51). Guests reference Homer and Hesiod repeatedly in their speeches, proving the truth of Diotima’s words. The poets’ works are “immortal” and have made their parents so as well (51). 

“Now it’s not impossible, Socrates, that you too could be initiated into the ways of love I’ve spoken of so far. But I don’t know whether you’re ready for the final grade of Watcher, which is where even the mysteries I’ve spoken of lead if you go about them properly. ‘All I can do,’ she said, ‘is tell you about them, which I’m perfectly willing to do; you must try to follow as best you can.’”

This speech of Diotima’s, reported by Socrates, alerts the audience/reader that the initiate is responsible for being ready to receive the mysteries. While the precise function of the “Watcher” in the Eleusinian and Samothracian Mysteries is not known, the suggestion that Socrates may not be ready to receive what he wants to receive indicates that, as Plato’s use of dialogue shows, knowledge, wisdom, etc. cannot be acquired passively. They require active engagement by a ready and willing participation. This distinction will carry extra weight when Alcibiades appears on the scene, and he reveals himself, in his speech, to not yet be ready to take the next step.

“‘Try as hard as you can to pay attention now,’ she said, ‘because anyone who has been guided and trained in the ways of love up to this point, who has viewed things of beauty in the proper order and manner, will now approach the culmination of love’s ways and will suddenly catch sight of something of unbelievable beauty—something, Socrates, which in fact gives meaning to all his previous effort.’”

Socrates’s report of his conversation with Diotima makes use of ritual language and imagery. Here, Diotima’s encouragement for Socrates “to pay attention” evokes what is believed to be an initiation element: the revealing of objects with ritual meaning. The “object” that will be revealed in this case is a truth about Love that will bring the initiate—here Socrates—into union with the mystery, which is knowledge of the nature of Love.

“So the right kind of love for a boy can help you ascend from the things of this world until you begin to catch sight of that beauty, and then you’re almost within striking distance of the goal.”

Diotima’s speech brings together several ideas that float through the other guests’ speeches, including the erotic context of the lover-beloved relationship. As mentioned in earlier speeches, the relationship between the lover and beloved is essentially one of teacher and student. The “right kind of love,” at least as practiced by Socrates, according to Alcibiades, is not physical (though it may begin that way) since attention on the physical keeps one tethered to the material world (54): Diotima and Socrates are concerned with Love that transcends the material world.

“How do you think someone would react, then, to the sight of beauty itself, in its perfect, immaculate purity—not beauty trained by human flesh and colouring and all that mortal rubbish, but absolute beauty, divine and constant?”

This extract is from the conclusion of Diotima’s “initiation” of Socrates. Her conclusion is presented as six questions upon which she asks Socrates to reflect. That Diotima ends not with statements but with questions reflects the open-ended nature of dialogue as an ongoing conversation that requires active participation: The pursuit of knowledge cannot be passive.

“As a believer, I try to win others as well round to the view that, in the business of acquiring immortality, it would be hard for human nature to find a better partner than Love. That’s the basis of my claim that everyone should treat Love with reverence, and that’s why I for one consider the ways of love to be very important.”

The phrase translated here as “a believer” more literally means “having been persuaded” (55). The translator’s “I try to win others as well round to the view” could also be rendered “I attempt to persuade others that” (55). In the ancient Greek context, Persuasion is a goddess, who is also associated with seduction and Aphrodite. Sculptures portray her being present at the meeting of Paris and Helen of Sparta, the prelude to the Trojan war. Socrates’s language alludes to networks of associations ancients had that can be difficult, if not impossible, to translate into English, not only in this moment but across the text.

“That’s my contribution, then Phaedrus. You can think of it as a eulogy of Love if you want, or you can call it whatever you like. It’s up to you.”

True to form, Socrates invites Phaedrus, and presumably the others, to decide what he has told them. To Socrates, his recounting of Diotima’s initiation of him counts as a eulogy to love, but since knowledge must be arrived at through active participation, the others must “pay attention” to “catch sight” of the “object” (54) Socrates has presented to them: not only the truth about Love but initiation into the sacred mystery of philosophy.

“During the applause, Aristophanes was trying to get a word in, because at one point, Socrates had referred to his speech, when suddenly there was a loud knocking at the front door.”

As in the case of the dialogue’s opening sentence, among others, Plato continually draws attention to the incompleteness of the picture. Plato’s description enables readers to visualize Aristophanes trying to be heard above the applause, but what he said, or would have said, or was trying to say remains shrouded. Further, the ongoing mysteries Plato plants in the dialogue may reflect the need to keep certain sacred elements secret, as is the case with initiates into mystery cults.

“He’s the only person in the world in whose company I’ve felt something which people wouldn’t think I was capable of feeling—shame: I feel shame before him and him alone. What happens is that although I’m perfectly well aware of the inescapable force of his recommendations as to what I should do, yet as soon as I’m away from him, I get seduced by the adulation for the masses.”

Alcibiades, the speaker of the above passage, was known for being flamboyant and audacious. Referring to Socrates as an “inescapable force” may be reflecting the way ancients conceptualized superhuman forces (including heroes and gods), hence the appropriateness of Alcibiades giving a eulogy to Socrates, who becomes, in Alcibiades’s speech, a kind of personification of Love. But while Alcibiades admits to being able to feel shame, he is not able to use that shame to improve himself such that he no longer craves adoration and participation in politics, a poignant statement on the historical Alcibiades’s violent end, which would have predated the Symposium.

“I don’t know if any of you has seen the genuine Socrates, opened up to reveal the effigies he has inside, but I saw them once, and they struck me as so divine, so glorious, so gorgeous and wonderful that—to cut a long story short—I felt I should obey him in everything.”

Alcibiades compares Socrates to a Sileni figure, a sculpture that hides a divine effigy within an unattractive exterior. Alcibiades also complained of Socrates’s brutal treatment of his followers, which was demonstrated in his backhanded compliment of Agathon’s speech. In addition to demonstrating another element of Socrates’s dual nature, Alcibiades’s analogy draws attention to what historical audiences would have known, which is that ultimately Alcibiades was not able to “obey” Socrates and complete his initiation into the “mystery cult” of philosophy (61). Alcibiades remained active in politics and was likely assassinated by political enemies.

“You’ve all experienced the madness and ecstasy of philosophy, and that’s why I can talk in front of you, because you’ll make allowances for what I did then and what I’m going to say now. But you slaves had better batten sizeable hatches down on your ears, and the same goes for any other coarse non-initiates here.”

Here, Alcibiades explicitly connects the experience of engaging in philosophy with participating in a mystery cult. Initiation rites could include ritualized acts of “madness and ecstasy” (63). His warning to any “non-initiates” to block their ears is appropriate to the importance of protecting the secrecy of rituals, which were meant only to be known by participants.

“You must find me remarkably attractive, then, with a beauty that is infinitely superior to your own good looks. Now, if this is what you see in me, and you then try to make a deal with me which involves us trading our respective beauties, then you’re planning to do quite a bit better than me out of it; you’re trying to give the semblance of beauty and get truth in return. In other words, this is a real ‘gold for bronze’ exchange you’re planning.”

According to Alcibiades, this was one of Socrates’s responses to Alcibiades’s attempts to seduce him. It exemplifies Socrates’s immunity to flattery. Alcibiades may have expected Socrates to be seduced by compliments (as Alcibiades himself is), but instead, Socrates shrewdly turns the situation around, making himself the loser in the proposition as Alcibiades makes it. The “gold for bronze” exchange is a reference to book six of Homer’s Iliad, in which two combatants exchange armor of unequal value (65). Alcibiades was not present during Diotima’s speech, but he provides support for her claim about Homer and his immortal children.

“And that’s why he and Laches got out of there safely, because the enemy generally don’t take on someone who can remain calm during combat; they prefer to go after people who are in headlong flight.”

In this extract, Alcibiades describes how he witnessed Socrates save a general during the battle at Delium during the Peloponnesian war. The qualities Socrates exhibits and espouses in his philosophical practice are also qualities that made him an asset as a soldier. Thus, Socrates’s philosophical method is not only about pursuing abstractions but inculcates important skills that benefit the young men who will grow up to fight for Athens, whether in the assembly or on the battlefield.

“But this man here is so out of the ordinary that however hard you look you’ll never find anyone from any period who remotely resembles him, and the way he speaks is just as unique as well. All you can do, in fact, is what I did, and compare him and his arguments not to any human being, but to Sileni and Satyrs.”

Like Agathon’s speech, Alcibiades’s closely resembles a eulogy. Unlike Agathon, Alcibiades provides specific examples for each quality of Socrates that he lauds. His speech is not just a long list of remarkable qualities; they are paired with instances when Socrates exemplified those qualities. Within the larger dialogue, Alcibiades demonstrates what a “true” eulogy (rather than a specious one, per Socrates’s assessment of Agathon’s speech) looks like. The dialogue itself, then, can be understood as a way to educate anyone who reads it.

“The first time a person lets himself listen to one of Socrates’s arguments, it sounds really ridiculous. Trivial-sounding words and phrases form his arguments’ outer coating, the brutal Satyr’s skin. […] But if you could see them opened up, if you can get through what’s under the surface, what you’ll find inside is that his arguments are the only ones in the world which make sense.”

Alcibiades’s description of Socrates here further plays on Socrates’s assessment of the earlier speeches: They sounded good but lacked substance. Socrates, on the other hand, looks insubstantial but hides divine wisdom.