"One
of the best things about being a philosopher is that, of all people,
the philosopher has, if not the most friends, then at least the most
profound friendships. When I look back over my life, even if I try
not to, I think first and foremost of my friends: Socrates who gave
me my freedom, Amniceris who bought it back, Timaeus who haunted it,
and the several others who furnished it and made it my home. People
have different reasons for living: some people live to amass money or
honours; others to collect dogs or horses; and yet others, perhaps
the majority, to while away their time on this earth. I have lived in
search of the god in other men, in the belief, nay, the conviction,
that there is far more to be had in a single real friend than in all
the riches of Artaxerxes.
In
my Lysis,
I sought in vain to define friendship.
The closest I came is to say that the cause of friendship is desire,
since he who desires, desires that of which he is in want, and that
of which he is in want is that which is dear to him. Having failed to
define friendship, I resorted instead to painting a picture of it. In
the Phaedrus,
Socrates and a young Phaedrus enjoy their time together by engaging
in earnest philosophical conversation. By exercising and building
upon reason, the pair are not only furthering each
other’s understanding,
but also revealing themselves—both to each other and to
themselves—and transforming a life of companionship into a life of
joint contemplation of those things that are most true and hence most
beautiful and most dependable. By seeking to get to the bottom of
things, real friends bring each other ever closer to the truth, and,
in so doing, earn each other’s respect and admiration and deepen
their bond. The truth is one, and the closer they bring themselves to
it, the more they find themselves in agreement. This is why, with the
passing of time, the best of friends can be said to have all things
in common.
In
the Lysis,
I staged Socrates discussing friendship with a pair of youths called
Lysis and Menexenus. Notice that, by discussing friendship with them
as he does, Socrates is also in the process of befriending the
youths. He befriends them not with the pleasant banter, gossipy
chitchat, or small kindnesses with which most people befriend one
another, but with the sort of philosophical debate that is the
hallmark of the deepest and most meaningful friendships. If
friendship ultimately escapes definition, then this is because,
like philosophyitself,
friendship is not so much a thing-in-itself as it is a process for
becoming. True friends seek together to live truer, fuller lives by
relating to each other authentically and by teaching each other about
the limitations of their beliefs and the defects in their character,
which are a far greater source of error than mere rational confusion.
Just as philosophy leads to friendship, so friendship leads to
philosophy, for philosophy and friendship are aspects of one and the
same impulse, one and the same love:
the love that seeks to know.
Unlike
some other philosophers, I am not especially keen to distinguish
friendship from erotic love. In fact, I believe that the best kind of
friendship is that which lovers might develop for each other. It is a
philia that is born out of erôs and that in turn feeds back
into erôs to strengthen and develop it. Like philosophy itself, erôs
aims at transcending human existence, at connecting it with the
eternal and infinite, and thereby at achieving the only true species
of immortality that is open to us as human beings. Not only does
philia strengthen and develop erôs, but it also transforms it from a
lust for possession into a shared desire for a higher level of
understanding of the self, the other, and the universe; in short, it
transforms erôs from a lust for possession into an impulse for
philosophy. This opens up a blissful life of shared understanding in
which desire, friendship, and philosophy are in perfect resonance
with one another.
I
recently heard of a young woman who, one night, under her bedclothes,
noiselessly took out her eyes with a spoon. As she felt no pain and
did not scream, she was not discovered until the following
morning, lying face
up and wide-awake amongst her bloody bedclothes. I do not doubt that
uncontrolled madness is the most dreadful curse of all; but if our
portion of madness can be channelled or contained, it becomes the
source of our greatest blessings. There are four forms of contained
madness, prophecy from Apollo, holy prayers and mystic rites from
Dionysus, poetry from the muses, and—the highest form—love from
Aphrodite and Eros. The madness of love arises from seeing
the beauty of
the earth and being reminded of pure, universal beauty.
Unfortunately, most earthly souls are so corrupted by the body that
they lose all memory for
the universals. When their eyes open onto the beauty of the earth,
they are merely given over to pleasure, and, like brutish beasts,
rush on to enjoy and beget. In contrast, the earthly soul that is
able to remember true, universal beauty, and so to feel true love,
gazes upon the face of his beloved and reverences it as an expression
of the divine—of temperance, justice, and knowledge absolute. As
his eyes catch those of his beloved, a shudder passes into an unusual
heat and perspiration. The parts of his soul out of which the wings
once grew, and which had hitherto been closed and rigid, begin to
melt open, and small wings begin to swell and grow from the root
upwards. Like a teething child whose gums are all aching and itching,
that is exactly how his soul feels when it begins to grow wings. It
swells up and aches and tingles as it grows them. The lover feels the
utmost joy when he is with his beloved and the most intense longing
when they are separated. When they are separated, the parts out of
which the wings are sprouting begin to dry out and close up, and the
lover’s pain is such that he prizes his beloved above all else,
utterly unable to think a bad thought about him, let alone to forsake
or betray him. The lover whose soul was once the follower of Zeus
amongst all the other gods seeks out a beloved who shares in his
god’s philosophical and imperial nature,
and then does all he can to confirm this nature in him. Thus, the
desire of the divinely inspired lover can only be fair and blissful
to the beloved. In time, the beloved, who is no ordinary fool, comes
to understand that his divinely inspired lover can bring him more
than all his other friends and kinsmen put together, and that neither
human discipline nor
divine inspiration could have offered him any greater blessing.
If
love is not of nothing, then it is of something, and if it is of
something, then it is of something that is desired, and therefore of
something that is not possessed. This something that love desires but
does not possess consists of extremely good and extremely beautiful
things, and especially of wisdom,
which is the most beautiful and best of all things. If love desires
but does not possess good and beautiful things, then love cannot, as
most people think, be a god. Love is in truth the child of Poverty
and Invention, always in need but always resourceful. He is not a god
but a daimon that intermediates between gods and men. As such,
he is neither mortal nor immortal, neither wise nor ignorant, but a
lover of wisdom. No one who is wise wants to become wise, just as no
one who is ignorant wants to become wise. For herein lies the evil of
ignorance, that he who is neither good nor wise is nonetheless
satisfied with himself, and has no want for that which he cannot
imagine. The aim of loving good and beautiful things is to possess
them, because the possession of good and beautiful things
ishappiness,
and happiness is the end of all human activity and, more than that,
the end of all human longing.
I
discovered the proper way to learn to love beauty from Socrates, who
himself discovered it from the priestess Diotima of Mantinea. A
youth should first be taught to love one beautiful body so that he
comes to realize that this beautiful body shares its beauty with
other beautiful bodies, and thus that it is foolish to love just one
beautiful body. Later, in loving all beautiful bodies, he begins to
appreciate that the beauty of the soul is superior to the beauty of
the body, and learns to love those who are beautiful in soul
regardless of whether they are also beautiful in body. Once he has
transcended the physical, he comes to find that beautiful practices
and customs and the various kinds of knowledge also share in a common
beauty. At last, he is able to experience Beauty itself, which far
surpasses any of its several apparitions. By exchanging the various
apparitions of virtue for Virtue itself, he gains immortality and the
love of the gods. This is why love is so important, and why it
deserves so much praise."
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