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2020 Not a Tale of Alcinous: A Reading of the Myth of Er Jacob Dvorak

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THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY

COLLEGE OF ARTS & SCIENCES

NOT A TALE OF ALCINOUS: A READING OF THE MYTH OF ER

By

JACOB DVORAK

A Thesis submitted to the Department of Classics in partial fulfillment of the requirements for graduation with Honors in the Major

Degree Awarded: Spring, 2020

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The members of the Defense Committee approve the thesis of Jacob Dvorak defended on March 30th, 2020.

______Associate Professor Svetla Slaveva-Griffin Thesis Director

______Associate Professor Nathanael Stein Outside Committee Member

______Assistant Professor Virginia Lewis Committee Member

*Signatures on file with the Honors Program Office*

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Table of Contents Iὀtὄὁἶuἵtiὁὀμ “ἦhἷ ἦalἷ ὁf a Stὄὁὀg εaὀ” ...... 4

I. Reading the Myth of Er: Political, Mythological, and Allegorical ...... 8

IIέ ἦhἷ Juἶgmἷὀt ὁf Sὁulὅμ ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ ἔἷaὄ, ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, aὀἶ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt ...... 16

Cephalus’ Fear and the Non-Philosopher’s View of Justice ...... 16

Glaucon’s Challenge and Adeimantus’ Request ...... 20

What Should a Soul Fear?: Punishment in the Myth of Er ...... 31

III. The Spindle of Necessity: The Philosophical Myth and its Messenger ...... 38

The Allegorical Interpretation of Myth in the Phaedrus ...... 38

How Can a Platonic Myth have Meaning? ...... 41

Everyman and ϊaimὀ: Er as Interpretive Lens ...... 44

“Binder of the Heavens”: the Spindle of Necessity and an Ordered Cosmos ...... 51

IV. The Lottery of Lives: Day-Dwelling Souls and the Choice of Odysseus ...... 60

“The Divine is Blameless”: Human Choice in the Lottery of Lives ...... 61

The Search for Philosophy and the Choices of Heroes ...... 65

The Choice of Odysseus: Katabasis as Allegory for Moral Thought ...... 72

ἑὁὀἵluὅiὁὀμ “ἦhἷ εyth Waὅ ἠὁt δὁὅt”...... 81

Bibliography ...... 85

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Introduction: “ἦhἷ ἦalἷ ὁf a Stὄὁὀg εaὀ”

Slain in battle, a warrior awakes in a place between the human world and the world of the gods. He approaches four openings in the ground and the sky. Through the chasms pass streams of souls, some headed to be rewarded, some to be punished, and some returning their journeys in heaven and the underworld. Souls are usually judged and sent on their way, but when the warrior approaches the chasms, he is told that he will not be judged, but that he will be a messenger of what he sees in this afterlife. The warrior walks with the souls to see a massive beam of light binding the heavens together. Around the beam turn spheres, like the whorls of a spindle, and atop the spheres sit Sirens singing in harmony. The spheres are turned by the three Fates and sitting silent above them is the goddess Necessity. The souls gather and are given lots. They will choose their next lives and will then return to Earth to live them. Some souls choose well, and some poorly. Some souls choose the lives of animals, some the lives of humans. The last soul to choose is the soul of the hero Odysseus, who chooses a peaceful private life. The souls then drink from the River of Forgetfulness and lie down to sleep. They shoot off into the sky like stars, and the warrior awakes on a funeral pyre, days after he died. He tells his story, and it survives.

This myth is how Plato ends his Republic. Why does a dialogue rooted in a historical place, at a historical time, and populated by historical figures, end with this vision of the afterlife, attributed to a fictional character? Does the story have a philosophical meaning, or is it just a poetic flourish at the end of a philosophical work? And why does Plato appropriate characters and imagery from the poets he criticizes? Is he simply reacting to previous authors, or is his relationship to his predecessors more complicated?

These are all questions one faces when reading the Myth of Er. Readings that answer them too quickly or dismissively can miss important elements of the Republic, from the dynamics

Dvorak 5 between its characters to indications that politics cannot address ethics to a demonstration of the importance of imagination and literature for moral thinking. My thesis will not attempt to discover all of the implications of the Myth of Er, nor will it ἵlaim tὁ uὀἵὁvἷὄ itὅ “tὄuἷ mἷaὀiὀgέ” ἤathἷὄ, I will, by analyzing the literary elements of Platὁ’ὅ wὄitiὀg, aὀἶ ἴy ἷxamiὀiὀg thἷ myth with a fὁἵuὅ on its allegorical meaning, argue that it cannot be dismissed as inconsistent with the Republic, incoherent philosophically, or bluntly anti-Homeric. Rather, the myth complements the dialogue it ends; has a philosophical meaning expressed, not through argument, but through character and setting; and responds to a central moral theme of the poetry before Plato. I do not argue these points for their own sakes, but rather to show the rewards of taking Platὁ’ὅ mythὅ ὅἷὄiὁuὅlyέ

I will begin with a chapter on previous reading of the Myth of Er. Chapter I will discuss a political reading of the myth, which argues that its purpose is only rhetorical, as well as a mythological reading of the myth, which analyzes thἷ myth iὀ thἷ ἵὁὀtἷxt ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ hὁὅtilἷ criticism of past authors. I argue that these readings miss important elements of the myth, and I propose that an allegorical reading would better reveal the meaning intended for philosophical readers, rather than the reductive reading meant for the non-philosopher. I also note that an allegorical reading would still allow for literary analysis and other methods of criticism which

ἵὁulἶ lἷaἶ tὁ thἷ myth’ὅ mἷaὀiὀgέ

In Chapter II, I turn to a major set-piece of the Myth of Er, the Judgment of Souls. I will argue that the myth, in showing the punishment of souls who are vicious and the rewards for souls who are just, does not contradict earlier points of the Republic, but rather complements and completes those points. The myth answers concerns raised by Cephalus, Glaucon, and Adeimantus in Books 1 and 2; it responds to the fear Cephalus has of punishment in the underworld, the challenge Glaucon issues to provide an account of justice as desirable in itself, the Adeimantuὅ’ request to find a way of talking about vice in a way that does not encourage listeners to be vicious.

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Chapter III turns to another set-piece, the Spindle of Necessity. Here, I will address the philosophical coherence of the myth. This will require me to address the criticism of allegory presented in the Phaedrus. I will argue that this criticism applies to Homeric myth, but not to

Platonic myth. Because the cosmos Plato portrays in the myth is ordered, open to human reason, and impactful on human life, it can be allegorized and can have a philosophical meaning. This mἷaὀiὀg iὅ ὅymἴὁliὐἷἶ ἴy thἷ Sὂiὀἶlἷ ὁf ἠἷἵἷὅὅity, whiἵh, aὅ a thiὀg whiἵh “ἴiὀἶὅ thἷ hἷavἷὀὅ,” also connects the divine to the human. The character of Er is constructed to facilitate the conceptualization of such a cosmos, and is key to understanding how the myth has philosophical meaning.

Chapter IV, on the Lottery of Lives, continues the analyὅiὅ ὁf thἷ myth’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal meaning, but also introduces the problem of inspiration, in my chapter on the Lottery of Lives. I will analyze how the Homeric heroes that appear in this part of the myth represent different character types based on their roles in the poetic tradition. I will finally focus on the choice of

Odysseus, which places ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἶἷὂiἵtiὁὀ ὁf ἵhὁiἵἷ ὁf lifἷ iὀ ἵὁὀtἷxt with ώὁmἷὄ’ὅ tὄἷatmἷὀt ὁf thἷ same theme. Plato is responding to Homer, not solely as a critic, but also as a literary writer who

ἶἷὂἷὀἶὅ ὁὀ ώὁmἷὄ’ὅ thὁught tὁ ἷxὂὄἷὅὅ hiὅ ὁwὀέ Iὀ faἵt, if ώὁmἷὄiἵ myth wἷὄἷ ἷntirely banished fὄὁm thἷ ὄἷaἶἷὄ’ὅ miὀἶ, thἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ wὁulἶ ἴἷ lἷὅὅ ἵὁhἷὄἷὀt, aὀἶ thἷ ἵhὁiἵἷὅ ὁf thἷ hἷὄὁἷὅ iὀ particular would mean much less.

My reading highlightὅ thἷ ὄὁlἷ ὁf litἷὄaὄy ἷlἷmἷὀtὅ ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ wὄitiὀg, iὀἵluἶiὀg ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄ, setting, and myths. These ἷlἷmἷὀtὅ fὄamἷ thἷ aὄgumἷὀtὅ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄὅ makἷ aὀἶ at timἷὅ introduce myths as responses to philosophical discourse. That this happens at all necessitates a consideration for the poetic and literary parts of Plato. If a reading discounts the myths of Plato as rhetorical, reactionary, or superfluous to the arguments of the dialogues, it misses out on the roles

Dvorak 7 those myths play, not only in the philosophical meanings they provide, but also in the way they

ὄἷὅὂὁὀἶ tὁ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄὅ aὀἶ ὂὁἷtic predecessors.

This reading places the myth in its context as part of the Republic, aὅ ὂaὄt ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ philosophy, and as part of a literary tradition of myth and katabasis as a way of portraying and facilitating moral thought. It argues that this myth is, as Socrates says when he tells it, not a tale of

Alcinous, the ancient name for the tall tales Odysseus tells, but the tale of a strong man. This does not just mean that the myth is different from those told by poets. It means that the myth belongs to a characteὄ wὁὄth ἷmulatiὀg, a ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄ that guiἶἷὅ thἷ ὄἷaἶἷὄ tὁwaὄἶ thἷ myth’ὅ mἷaὀiὀgέ ἦhiὅ iὅ

ὀὁt juὅt Eὄ, ὀὁt juὅt ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ, ἴut alὅὁ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ Χwhὁὅἷ ὀamἷ, ἴy ὀὁ ἵὁiὀἵiἶἷὀἵἷ, mἷaὀὅ “whὁlἷ

ὂὁwἷὄ”Ψέ ἦhἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ iὅ thἷ talἷ ὁf a ὂἷὄὅὁὀ whὁ ὅhὁwὅ hὁw ὂhilosophy can lead to a more peaceful, more reflective, and more moral life. It does this by means of a poetic vision, but this does not require any less literary art than the dialogues that show a more realistic world, a more realistic katabasis, a more realistic hero to question souls and bear witness to the cosmos. The myth iὅ ὀὁt a talἷ ὁf χlἵiὀὁuὅέ It iὅ, likἷ all ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ wὄitiὀg, thἷ talἷ ὁf Sὁἵὄatἷὅ, a wise, reasonable, and strong man.

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I. Reading the Myth of Er: Political, Mythological, and Allegorical Interpretations

When reading the Myth of Er, one faces three major problems. The first is the problem of consistency; does the myth contradict the argument of the Republic? The second is the problem of coherency; does the myth have a philosophical meaning? The third is the problem of inspiration; how does the myth interact with its literary predecessors?1 These problems arise because, in order to understand the myth, one must be able to place it in a meaningful context, within the dialogue that it concludes, withiὀ thἷ fὄamἷ ὁf itὅ authὁὄ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy, aὀἶ withiὀ thἷ mythὁlὁgiἵal tὄaἶitiὁὀ to which it responds.

In this chapter I will examine two readings of the myth which address some of these problems. The first, χὀὀaὅ’,2 addresses the problems of consistency and coherency, arguing that the Myth of Er is inconsistent with the Republic and has no coherent philosophical meaning. The second, ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ’ὅ,3 addresses the problems of consistency and inspiration, arguing that the myth complements the Republic’ὅ ὂhilosophical message with a mythological message, and that its place in the mythological tradition is a reactionary one, ὂaὄt ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἵὁmὂἷtitiὁὀ with mythὁlὁgy fὁὄ control of typically mythological themes. I focus on these readings, not because they address the myth badly, but because they address it as secondary to other elements of the Republic and Plato.

Because both Annas is primarily focused on the political theory of Plato, and because Brisson is focused on mythological discourse, rather than myths themselves, they justify the inclusion of the

1 ώalliwἷll ἀίίἅ iἶἷὀtifiἷὅ aὄguaἴly thἷ ὅamἷ thὄἷἷ ὂὄὁἴlἷmὅμ thἷ myth ἶiὅὂlayὅ ἴὁth “haὄmὁὀy aὀἶ ἶiὅὅὁὀaὀἵἷ” with the Republic, attἷmὂtὅ tὁ aἵhiἷvἷ a “ὅymἴὁliἵ ὂἷὄὅὂἷἵtivἷ ὁὀ thἷ whὁlἷ ὁf ὄἷality,” aὀἶ “itὅ ἶἷὀὅἷly alluὅivἷ texture yields a surplus of possiἴlἷ mἷaὀiὀgὅ” ΧἂἂἃΨέ 2 Annas 1981. 3 Brisson 2000.

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Myth of Er by arguing that it is meant for a different audience than the more explicitly philosophical parts of Plato’s writing.

χὀὀaὅ’ ὄἷaἶiὀg ὁf thἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ serves as an introduction to the problems of reading

ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅ alὁὀgὅiἶἷ hiὅ explicitly philosophical writing. Annas finds the myth to be inconsistent with the rest of the Republic. She characterizes the entirety of Book 10 aὅ “aἶἶἷἶ ὁὀ” tὁ “a wὁὄk ἷὅὅἷὀtially ἵὁmὂlἷtἷ alὄἷaἶy,” replete with “ἶiὅtuὄbing differences from the rest of the

Republicέ”4 Because the argument for the worth of justice is already complete by the end of Book

9, the myth ὅtaὀἶὅ ὁut aὅ a “ὄag-bag section that renews the themes of the rewards of justiἵἷ” whἷὀ those themes have already been satisfactorily addressed.5 Annas addresses the problem of

ἵὁhἷὄἷὀἵy iὀ ὂaὄt thὄὁugh hἷὄ aὀalyὅiὅ ὁf thἷ myth’ὅ tὁὀἷέ It iὅ “a ὂaiὀful ὅhὁἵkν itὅ vulgaὄity ὅἷἷmὅ tὁ ὂull uὅ ὄight tὁ thἷ lἷvἷl ὁf ἑἷὂhaluὅέ”6 She adds that “thἷ iὀἶiviἶual iὅ likἷly to be depressed

ὄathἷὄ thaὀ iὀὅὂiὄἷἶ ἴy ὅuἵh a viὅiὁὀ” ὁf fataliὅtiἵ juὅtiἵἷ aὀἶ ὂuὀiὅhmἷὀt, aὀἶ ἵὁὀἵluἶἷὅ that thἷ myth is targeted toward non-philosophical readers, and is meant to frighten those readers into being just.7 It has no coherent meaning other than its rhetorical purpose.

ἦhiὅ ὄἷaἶiὀg aἶἶὄἷὅὅἷὅ twὁ ὁf thἷ myth’ὅ ἵἷὀtὄal ὂὄὁἴlἷmὅ, aὀἶ it iὅ ἷὅὂἷἵially uὅἷful if

ὁὀἷ’ὅ ὁvἷὄall iὀtἷὄὂὄἷtatiὁὀ ὁf thἷ Republic is that it is a work of political philosophy—that is, if one’s reading finds the myth ancillary to the dialogue it concludes. Annas finds the myth inconsistent with the Republic as a work that is explicitly philosophical and structured around the arguments and discussions of its characters. The myth is inconsistent with this element of the

Republic both in its literary register (while most of the dialogue consists of the realistic narration of discussions between historical characters, the myth describes the journey of an invented character

4 Annas 1981, 335. 5 Annas 1981, 335. 6 Annas 1981, 349. 7 Annas 1981, 349.

Dvorak 10 and the things he sees) and in its framing (while most of the dialogue is the direct narration of

Socrates, the myth is Socrates’ summation of a different person’s story). It departs from the tone and structure of the dialogue, and without an argument for why this departure is justified or foreshadowed, it is inconsistent. Finding the myth inconsistent allows one to focus on the philosophical treatment of justice in the city without needing to look again at matters already treated philosophically, like the rewards of justice, and though it leads to the conclusion that Book

10 is somewhat “tacked-on” to the rest of the dialogue, it preserves the integrity of the argument preceding the final book.

And if the myth has only a rhetorical purpose, this is all the more reason to set it aside.

Previously, in the Republic, vulgar myths about punishment have been introduced as rhetorical tools, meant to tame and control citizens of ideal cities. It is, in a sense, reasonable to assume that this myth could serve a similar purpose. Surely, since the philosophical reader can understand

ἢlatὁ’ὅ aὄgumἷὀtὅ, thἷ myth mἷaὀt tὁ ὂἷὄὅuaἶἷ ὀὁὀ-philosophical readers need not be analyzed for philosophical meaning, but can at most be criticized for being manipulative and vulgar.

As for the myth’s place in a literary tradition, this simply is not the focus of Annas’ reading.

As she does not view Plato primarily as an author, but rather as a political philosopher, his poetic allegiances and relationships are less important than his philosophical ones.

Yἷt χὀὀaὅ’ solutions to those problems can be criticized. Her solution to the problem of consistency, that the myth is inconsistent ἴἷἵauὅἷ it ὄἷvivἷὅ thἷmἷὅ alὄἷaἶy “ὂut tὁ ὄἷὅt,” requires that those themes really have been satisfactorily treated. ἢἷὄhaὂὅ thiὅ iὅ tὄuἷ ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂὁlitiἵal theory, but I will argue in Chapter II, on the Judgment of Souls, Plato indicates that the discussion of justice is not complete because it has neglected the cosmological perspective on justice which the myth provides. Since the discussion of justice has not included this perspective so far, the themes of the rest of the Republic are not revived in the Myth of Er, but are finally treated fully.

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As for the incoherence Annas finds in the myth, I would argue it is the result of a reading that focuses only on the punishment of souls, rather than one which considers the rest of the myth.

As I will argue, again in my chapter on the Judgment of Souls, Plato does not describe the punishment of souls in order to encourage good behavior, but rather to contrast the (ultimately lesser) importance of moral action with the (ultimately greater) importance of moral reflection.

Furthermore, the myth presents a model of the solar system through the Spindle of Necessity and a system of reincarnation through the Lottery of Lives. If a reading ignores these elements of the myth to focus only on a potential misinterpretation of how souls are judged, then the only coherent message of the Myth of Er would be a rhetorical one meant to encourage obedience. But when these other elements are considered, a more philosophical meaning emerges, less vulgar and more complex than that suggested by the political reading.

ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ’ὅ ὄἷaἶiὀg is an interpretation of how Plato uses myths generally, rather than an analysis of the Myth of Er alone. According to Brisson, Plato advances his philosophical discourse tὁ ἵὁmmἷὀt ὁὀ thἷ ὅuἴjἷἵtὅ whiἵh myth “mὁὀὁὂὁliὐἷὅέ”8 This requires him to maneuver around

ὂὁἷtὄy’ὅ ὂὄἷvalἷὀἵἷ iὀ ἷthiἵὅ and cosmology by advancing, alongside his arguments, his own myths which are analogous to his philosophical theories. Thus, according to Brisson, the value of myths aἴὁut ἵὁὅmὁlὁgiἵal ὂhἷὀὁmἷὀa “ἶἷὂἷὀἶὅ ὁὀ thἷiὄ ἵὁὀfὁὄmity tὁ a ἶiὅἵὁuὄὅἷ ὁf aὀὁthἷὄ tyὂἷ…a discourse which proposes a cosmological model; even if this cosmological discourse is itself likἷὀἷἶ tὁ mythέ”9 Plato does not think mythology is as true as philosophy. He finds myth useful,

ἴut ὀὁt tὄuἷμ “…fὁὄ ἢlatὁ, thἷ iὀterest of myth resides neither in its truth value nor in its aὄgumἷὀtativἷ ὂὁwἷὄ, ἴut iὀ itὅ uὅἷfulὀἷὅὅ at thἷ lἷvἷl ὁf ἷthiἵὅ aὀἶ ὂὁlitiἵὅέ”10 Because its

8 Brisson 2000, 87: “If ἢlatὁ iὅ iὀtἷὄἷὅtἷἶ iὀ myth, it iὅ ἴἷἵauὅἷ hἷ waὀtὅ tὁ ἴὄἷak itὅ mὁὀὁὂὁlyέ” 9 Brisson 2000, 111. 10 Brisson 2000, 115.

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ὂἷὄὅuaὅivἷ ὂὁwἷὄ aὀἶ uὀivἷὄὅal aἵἵἷὅὅiἴility “ἷὀaἴlἷὅ myth tὁ ὂlay fὁὄ ὁὄἶiὀaὄy ὂἷὁὂlἷ a ὄὁlἷ similar to that of an intelligible form fὁὄ a ὂhilὁὅὁὂhἷὄ…iὀ ἴὁth ἷthiἵὅ aὀἶ ὂὁlitiἵὅ, myth ἵaὀ takἷ thἷ ὂlaἵἷ ὁf ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal ἶiὅἵὁuὄὅἷέ”11

Brisson reads the Myth of Er—and any Platonic myth—aὅ ἴἷiὀg ἵὁὀὅiὅtἷὀt with ἢlatὁ’ὅ philosophy so long as it reflects his philosophical views, but never coherent on its own terms. The myths can mirror philosophy, but not extend it, can have meaning for non-philosophical readers but not philosophical ones. Finding philosophical meanings in the myths is problematic because of the criticism of allegory in the Phaedrus12. ἦhὁugh ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ fiὀἶὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ aὄgumἷὀt agaiὀὅt allἷgὁὄy unconvincing,13 it still indicates Plato does not mean his myths to have philosophical meanings, but only to help philosophy supplant myth as a form of discourse. As for the problem of inspiration,

ὅiὀἵἷ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal ὂὄὁjἷἵt addresses the areas that Homeric mythology monopolizes, it appropriates Homeric imagery to compete with poetic treatments of morality and choice of life.

The Myth of Er includes Homeric heroes and imagery in an attempt to seize control of Homeric themes and subject matter. It reacts against Homer as a competitor in ethics and cosmology.

Whilἷ I fiὀἶ ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ’ὅ tὄἷatmἷὀt ὁf thἷ ὂὄὁἴlἷm ὁf ἵὁὀὅiὅtἷὀἵy ἵὁὀviὀἵiὀg, I disagree with his treatment of the problem of coherence. His dismissal of the philosophical meaning in ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅ ἶἷὂἷὀἶὅ ὁὀ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἵὄitiἵiὅm ὁf allἷgὁὄy iὀ thἷ Phaedrus. I will argue, however, in my third chapter, on the Spindle of Necessity, that the passage in question criticizes allegory of

Homeric myth, while allowing for allegorical interpretation of Platonic myth. Since the Myth of Er portrays a cosmos that is open to reason and that involves humanity, the criticism of allegory in the

Phaedrus would not apply to a philosophical analysis of this myth. The myth does have a

11 Brisson 2000, 116-117. 12 ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ ἀίίί, “ἦhἷ ἤἷὂuἶiatiὁὀ ὁf χllἷgὁὄiἵal Iὀtἷὄὂὄἷtatiὁὀ” 1ἀἀ-127. 13 Brisson 2000, 127.

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ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal mἷaὀiὀg, ἴaὅἷἶ ὁὀ thἷ ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄ ὁf Eὄ, thἷ ὅtὄuἵtuὄἷ ὁf thἷ myth’ὅ ὅἷttiὀg, aὀἶ thἷ choices heroes make in the Lottery of Lives.

χὅ fὁὄ ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ’ὅ iὀtἷὄὂὄἷtatiὁὀ ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὄἷlatiὁὀὅhiὂ with ώὁmἷὄ aὀἶ ὂὁἷtὄy, I will not argue against an element of competition between the authors. Yet I will, in Chapter IV, about the

Lottery of Lives, modify ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ’ὅ ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄiὐatiὁὀ ὁf the relationship between Plato and his poetic predecessors. While Plato disagrees with Homeric conclusions in ethics and cosmology, the authὁὄὅ’ litἷὄaὄy ὄἷlatiὁὀὅhiὂ iὅ mὁὄἷ ὅuἴtlἷ thaὀ ὁὀἷ ὁf ὂuὄἷ ὄἷaἵtiὁὀ aὀἶ hὁὅtilityέ Whἷὄἷ ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ’ὅ mythὁlὁgiἵal ὄἷaἶiὀg iὀtἷὄὂὄἷtὅ ἢlatὁ’ὅ myth aὅ a ὄἷaἵtiὁὀ agaiὀὅt thἷ ἶiὅἵὁuὄὅἷ ὁf ώὁmἷὄ, I wὁulἶ argue that Plato does not displace his poetic predecessors as much as he adds to and continues their moral thought within a continuous literary tradition.

In summary, while Annas identifies some, and Brisson identifies all three, of the problems I have outlined, their solutions interpret the myth as a piece of non-philosophical writing that does not serve a philosophical purpose. I have characterized Annas and Brisson as offering a political and mythological interpretation of the Myth of Er, respectively. The political reading focuses on the political philosophy of the Republic, and so finds the myth to be a superfluous appendix to the dialogue with no philosophical meaning. The mythological reading sees the myth in the context of

ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἷὀgagἷmἷὀt with mythὁlὁgy aὅ a ἶiὅἵὁurse competitive with philosophy. Thus, the myth is part of a maneuver to claim the subjects and themes of poetry, and inherits both the imagery and philosophical insufficiency of myth. Each of those readings address some of the interpretive problems of the myth, but as I have suggested, neither, to my mind, does so satisfactorily.

In response to the political and mythological readings of the Myth of Er, I will advance an allegorical interpretation, a reading of the myth that takes as its aim the discovery of a

Dvorak 14 philosophical meaning in the myth.14 By placing the myth in its context as part of the Republic, part of Plato, and part of the Ancient Greek literary tradition, the tools of literary analysis can enhance the philosophical understanding of the Myth of Er. This does not mean that the literary elements of the myth are simply representations of moral phenomena, nor that the myth has only a literary function. Rather, an allegorical reading allows both for the interpretation of parts of the myth as representative and for a literary function. The Myth of Er is not simply part of an argument nor simply a literary device, but fulfills these roles simultaneously. The Judgment of Souls fulfills an argumentative role, the Spindle of Necessity ventures into cosmological theory, and the Lottery of

Lives is a moral allegory for moral choice. All take place in the same daimonic place, as part of the same myth.

ἦhiὅ mἷthὁἶ, thὁugh it ἶὁἷὅ ὀὁt ὂὄὁviἶἷ a ἶἷfiὀitἷ “mἷaὀiὀg” fὁὄ thἷ myth aὅ muἵh aὅ it highlights the contexts that could provide meaning, is fitting for the myth. As Halliwell argues,

“thἷ ὀaὄὄativἷ ὄaiὅἷὅ mὁὄἷ ὃuἷὅtiὁὀὅ thaὀ it ἵaὀ aὀὅwἷὄέ”15 An allegorical and literary reading of the myth addresses some of these questions and brings us closer to understanding its many valences. A definitive reading is impossible to produce for such a complicated text:

[W]e should not expect to find a definitive key to the reading of any Platonic myth. Instead, we should accept the existence of multiple levels of significance [withiὀ thἷm]…lἷvἷlὅ that ἵaὀ aἵἵὁmmὁἶatἷ ἷlἷmἷὀtὅ ὁf thἷ litἷὄal, thἷ metaphorical, the personificatory, the symbolic, the allἷgὁὄiἵal,…thἷ ὅὂἷἵulativἷ, aὀἶ, ultimatἷly, thἷ myὅtiἵal…έ (Halliwell 2007, 445)

14 Contra Larivée 2012, I think it is a mistake to equate allegorical and political readings since neither take the myth “litἷὄallyέ” ἧὀlikἷ thἷ ὂὁlitiἵal ὄἷaἶiὀg, aὀ allἷgὁὄiἵal ὄἷaἶiὀg ἶὁἷὅ ὀὁt ἷxἵluἶἷ thἷ litἷὄal mἷaὀiὀg ὁf a myth, ἴut considers in addition to the literal meaning a metaphorical one. The allegorical reading focuses on additional layers of meaning, rather than arguing for a single non-literal one. This is not to dismiss Larivée’ὅ aὄgumἷὀt that takiὀg thἷ myth literally can lead to important conclusions, but it is to say that an allegorical reading does not prevent a literal reading as she argues it does. 15 Halliwell 2007, 445.

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My reading will address the three problems described above and will allow for future readings of

ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅ that aἶἶὄἷὅὅ thἷ ἷlἷmἷὀtὅ ώalliwἷll liὅtὅέ Whilἷ it ὂὄὁviἶἷὅ a more limited conclusion than the political or mythological reading, it provides a horizon of possible paths for interpretation, both for this myth and others.

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II. The Judgment of Souls: ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ ἔἷaὄ, ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, and χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt The first problem facing the reader of the Myth of Er is the problem of consistency: is the myth consistent with the dialogue it concludes, ὁὄ ἶὁἷὅ it aἴὄuὂtly iὀtὄuἶἷ ὁὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal writing?16 It is to Cephalus, and to the speeches of Glaucon and Adeimantus which respond to him, that I will turn to clarify this problem. The early sections of the Republic where these characters present their views of justice and the moral life shapes the discussion of justice that follows. It is not, however, until the Myth of Er that Socrates responds to these perspectives in an integrated and complete way. I argue that the myth is as much a response to this drama of personality as it is to the philosophical drama of the Republic. It complements to the discussion of justice introduced in the early books aὀἶ it iὅ ἵὁὀὅiὅtἷὀt with thἷ thἷmἷὅ aὀἶ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal “ὂlὁt,” as it were, of the dialogue.

Cephalus’ Fear and the Non-Philosopher’s View of Justice

Cephalus is not present for most of the Republic, but it is with him that Socrates begins to talk about justice, and it is with his report of the moral life in old age that begins to shape the context of the Myth of Er. The historical Cephalus was a metic living in the Piraeus, an arms manufacturer and the father of Polemarchus (another interlocutor in the dialogue) and of Lysias the orator (who records the fall of his family in his speech Against Eratosthenes).17 Although he speaks to Socrates as a friend and happily hosts the dialogue of the Republic, he is an ambiguous figure to those who know the fate of his family. He is not an Athenian, he profits from a war that

16 As Annas argues, to renew discussion of the rewards of justice is superfluous if the interlocutors and Socrates agreed that thiὅ waὅ “ὀὁ guiἶἷ tὁ thἷ tὄuth,” aὀἶ thἷ myth itὅἷlf “ὅἷἷmὅ tὁ ὂull uὅ ὄight ἶὁwὀ tὁ thἷ lἷvἷl ὁf ἑἷὂhaluὅέ” (1981, 349.) 17 See Lys. 12. 4-20.

Dvorak 17 tears Athens apart, and whatever fortune he builds for his family does not last. During the reign of the Thirty Tyrants, his son Polemarchus is forced to drink hemlock and is refused a proper burial.18 Cephalus is a good host, and his house is, at the moment, a happy one. But it will be ruined soon after he dies, and for those who know the fate of Polemarchus, it is already a house of the dead and doomed. This historical context shadows the account Cephalus gives.

Sὁἵὄatἷὅ aὅkὅ him, ὅiὀἵἷ hἷ haὅ ὄἷaἵhἷἶ thἷ “thὄἷὅhὁlἶ ὁf ὁlἶ agἷ” Χ“ ”Ψ,19 to tell those gathered what it is like. Is the road that faces them a difficult one or one that is easy to travel? Far from disliking old age, Cephalus finds it a relief, since he has been freed from his appetites, which were once his masters.20 Socrates presses him on his comfort, asking if it is the result of his wealth. To this he responds that, though a well-ordered person would not be happy if poor, a vicious person would still be unhappy when rich.21 Before leaving to tend to a sacrifice, he explains what he believes to be the greatest benefit money brings to a good person—it allows him to pay his debts and sacrifice to the gods.22 This is especially good for someone in old age, because it is then that:

έ , , , , , έ

fear and concern about certain things come to him that before did not. For the myths told about things in Hades, how those who do wrong here must pay the

18 Lys. 12.17-18. 19 Plat. R. 1.328e6. The text of the Republic is that of Slings 2003. All translations are my own. 20 Plat. R. 1.329c-d. 21 Plat. R. 1.330a. 22 Plat. R. 1.331b.

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price there, though they were laughable then, now begin to turn his soul that they might be true. And he, either from the weakness of old age or because, being close to the things there, he sees them more, becomes filled with fears and doubts and reckons up and considers if he has somehow wronged anyone. (Plat., R. 1.330d-e.)

ἦhiὅ ὂaὅὅagἷ ὅhὁwὅ, ὀὁt juὅt ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ ὂἷὄὅὁὀal aἵἵὁuὀt ὁf hiὅ mὁὄal lifἷ aὀἶ fἷaὄ ὁf punishment, but also an attitude toward temptation, justice, and the role of myths in ethical thinking representative of non-philosophical people.

To Cephalus, temptations are resisted by accident, not by choice. He has not had to develop a resistance to his appetites. Rather, he seems to imply that, as long as he had desires, thὁὅἷ ἶἷὅiὄἷὅ ὄulἷἶ ὁvἷὄ him “aὅ maὅtἷὄὅέ” ώἷ ἶὁἷὅ ὀὁt, ἷvἷὀ ὀὁw, ὄἷὅiὅt hiὅ ἶἷὅiὄἷὅ, but simply does not desire, and thus, thanks completely to the accident of old age, he lives a chaste life.

Justice is largely conventional and act-based for him. He finds it important to pay debts and to sacrifice to the gods. Yet he attributes his just actions, not to his character, but to his good fὁὄtuὀἷέ ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ wἷalth waὅ ὀὁt ἷὀtiὄἷly ὂὄὁἶuἵἷἶ ἴy him, ἴut hiὅ mὁἶἷὄatiὁὀ maiὀtaiὀἷἶ what he inherited,23 and though he does not think wealth is sufficient for the good life, he does find it necessary to fulfill the conventional requirements of justice.

ἦhuὅ faὄ, ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ aἵἵὁuὀt ὁf hiὅ ὁwὀ mὁὄal lifἷ ὄἷὂὄἷὅἷὀtὅ a ἵὁὀvἷὀtiὁὀal aὀἶ tὄaἶitiὁὀal view of justice, highlighted by his reference to the poets as moral sources, citing Sophocles and

Pindar to support his opinions.24 The temptations one faces in youth fade away in older age, so it becomes easier, as one ages, to be virtuous. Justice is the payment of debts, so wealth allows even greater comfort and allows one to avoid doing injustice. The good life is a life whose external

23 Plat. R. 1.330b. 24 Plat. R. 1.329b-d, 331a.

Dvorak 19 circumstances allow for peace and good conscience. This implies the most important—indeed the only—character trait to inculcate in oneself is the prudent intelligence that allows one to lead a life

ὁf mὁἶἷὄatiὁὀ, maiὀtaiὀiὀg ὁὀἷ’ὅ wἷalth aὀἶ avὁiἶiὀg tἷmὂtatiὁὀέ ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ mὁἶἷὄatiὁὀ iὅ thἷ

ἴaὅiὅ ὁf ἤἷἷvἷ’ὅ ὄἷaἶiὀg whiἵh fiὀἶὅ ἑἷὂhaluὅ a challenge to the entire Socratic project, since “hἷ is to some degree moderate, just, pious, and wise without having studied philosophy or knowing what thἷ viὄtuἷὅ aὄἷέ”25 One could even, following Altman, understand Cephalus as something like thἷ aὀtithἷὅiὅ ὁf Sὁἵὄatἷὅέ ἦhὁugh hἷ iὅ aὀ “tὁ [a] limitἷἶ ἷxtἷὀt, a ἢlatὁὀiὅt…an unreflective

ἶualiὅt,” hἷ iὅ uὀὅuὄἷ ὁf thἷ aftἷὄlifἷ aὀἶ ἶὁἷὅ ὀὁt aὂὂὄὁaἵh viὄtuἷ aὅ a mattἷὄ ὁf ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy, ἴut aὅ a matter of obedient ritual.26

Yet, I would argue, Cephalus himself challenges the conventional account of virtue that he represents. While he cites the poets, their descriptions of punishment in the afterlife reveal that his view of justice and virtue has not given him any moral clarity or comfort. He may laugh off myths of the underworld, but they still cause a fear that Socrates, for example, does not have when he faces death. Annas nicely summarizes his focus on external circumstances, writing that fὁὄ ἑἷὂhaluὅ “[ὄ]ight aὀἶ wὄὁὀg ἵὁὀὅiὅt…iὀ thἷ ὂἷὄfὁὄmaὀἵἷ ὁf ἵἷὄtaiὀ aἵtiὁὀὅ…μ thἷ kind of person you are does ὀὁt mattἷὄέ”27 Because he focuses on the external elements of virtue and never has the stability of an account that is internal. As Bloom argues, Cephalus represents age aὀἶ ἷxὂἷὄiἷὀἵἷ aὅ a guiἶἷ tὁ mὁὄality, aὅ ὁὂὂὁὅἷἶ tὁ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy aὀἶ wiὅἶὁmέ “χgἷ iὅ a practical

25 Reeve 2006, 6. This reading of Cephalus as a challenge of Socrates, to my mind, gives him too much credit. It depends on whether one reads him as someone who nobly maintains control of himself in spite of his desires or as someone who has been subject to his desires and is only now free of them. A similar problem is found in his account of how wealth is necessary for virtue, which suggests that, if he were not wealthy, he would lie and not repay his debts. It is up to the reader to determine which Cephalus is suggested through his account, a nobly struggling one or a luckily virtuous one. In either case, his account of virtue is flawed in that it relies on external circumstances for him to maintain his moral status. 26 Altman 2012, 79. Adam 1963 notes that “tὁ ὄἷgaὄἶ thἷ ἴὁἶily wἷakὀἷὅὅ ὁf ὁlἶ agἷ aὅ iὀ itὅἷlf thἷ ἵauὅἷ ὁf ἵlἷaὄἷὄ vision of the world beyond may be in harmony with the doctrine of the Phaedo, but Cephalus is not represented as a ἢlatὁὀiὅt” Χ1μ1ίΨέ 27 Annas 1981, 20. Emὂhaὅiὅ χὀὀaὅ’έ ἑfέ alὅὁ ἐaὄaἵἵhi ἀίί1, 1ἄλ: aἵἵὁὄἶiὀg tὁ ἑἷὂhaluὅ, “[t]hat ὁὀἷ tuὄὀὅ tὁ sacrifices instead of trying to cheat creditors is purely accidental—it ὅuἴὅtaὀtially ἶἷὂἷὀἶὅ ὁὀ ὁὀἷ’ὅ fiὀaὀἵial ὂὄὁfilἷέ”

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ὅuἴὅtitutἷ fὁὄ wiὅἶὁm”; yet in the face of things age cannot predict or react to, wisdom is certainly preferable.28 The avoidance of temptation and the security of the good life is, to

Cephalus, a matter of chance, so his moral life is threatened by any external misfortune that strikes it. For the reader, this blow has already been dealt. Anyone who knows the ruin that awaitὅ ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ family hἷaὄὅ iὀ hiὅ aἵἵὁuὀt a fatal iὄὁὀy, a tὁὀἷ hἷightἷὀἷἶ ἴy thἷ ὅὂἷἷἵh ὁf

Thrasymachus, who shows hὁw ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ aἵἵὁuὀt fallὅ tὁ ὅὁὂhiὅmέ29

Glaucon’s Challenge and Adeimantus’ Request

ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ fἷaὄ ὁf ὂuὀiὅhmἷὀt iὀ thἷ aftἷὄlifἷ iὅ ὂaὅὅἷἶ ἴy iὀ ἐὁὁk 1, ἴut ὄἷἵἷivἷὅ attἷὀtiὁὀ iὀ the

ὅὂἷἷἵhἷὅ ὁf ἕlauἵὁὀ aὀἶ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ, ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἴὄὁthἷὄὅέ30 These speeches represent, not a class or viewpoint of Athens, but the viewpoints of students of philosophy, interested in politics but not involved to any significant degree.31 The brothers are regular visitors to the house of Polemarchus, but they are also on close terms with Socrates, and they become the primary interlocutors of the

Republic. Glaucon is the more creative of the two, but also demonstrates his ignorance of important philosophical knowledge throughout the dialogue.32 Adeimantus, though he feels the need to make regular reference to poets when he explains his thoughts, is, I would argue, the subtler of the two, and has a more instinctive attachment to virtue than Glaucon. I point out the

28 Bloom 1991, 312. 29 See Anὀaὅ 1λκ1μ “ἡὀἵἷ ἵὁmὂlaἵἷὀἵy iὅ ὅhakἷὀ, it lἷavἷὅ a vὁiἶ…that…iὅ all tὁὁ ὂlauὅiἴly fillἷἶ ἴy ὅkἷὂtiἵiὅm— it iὅ ὀὁt fὁὄ ὀὁthiὀg that ἢὁlἷmaὄἵhuὅ iὅ fὁllὁwἷἶ ἴy ἦhὄaὅymaἵhuὅ” Χἀ1Ψέ Sἷἷ alὅὁ ἤἷἷvἷ ἀίίἄ, λ, whἷὄἷ ἢὁlἷmaὄἵhuὅ’ wἷakὀἷὅὅ iὅ ἶiὅἵuὅὅἷἶ aὀἶ ώὁwlaὀἶ 1993, 70-71, which argues that Thrasymachus is simply a more explicitly hedonistic speaker than Cephalus. For a more dramatic reading of the dynamic of Cephalus, Polemarchus, and Thrasymachus which focuses on the role of power and force in the Republic, see Benardete 1989. 30 I havἷ ἵallἷἶ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ὅὂἷἷἵh, fὁllὁwiὀg ἵὁὀvἷὀtiὁὀ, ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, aὀἶ havἷ ἵallἷἶ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ὅὂἷἷἵh, fὁὄ laἵk ὁf aὀ ἷὅtaἴliὅhἷἶ ὀamἷ, χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅtέ 31 Ferrari 2005, 11-15 provides a discussion of Glaucon and Adeimantus as formerly involved in politics but, by the dramatic time of the Republic, standing apart from political life. 32 ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ alὅὁ haὅ ὅὁmἷ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal ὂὄὁἴlἷmὅ, ἶἷfἷὀἶἷἶ ἴy Kiὄwaὀ 1λἄἃ ἴut attaἵkἷἶ ἴy ἕilἴὁa 1λλἄέ

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ἶiffἷὄἷὀἵἷὅ ἴἷtwἷἷὀ thἷm ἴἷἵauὅἷ tὁ ὁvἷὄlὁὁk thὁὅἷ ἶiffἷὄἷὀἵἷὅ iὅ tὁ igὀὁὄἷ thἷ ἴὄὁthἷὄὅ’ ἶyὀamiἵ entirely, and thus to rob the Republic of one of its most important narrative elements.33 As Strauss argues, the differences between the brothers and what they ask is central to understanding the aὄgumἷὀt ὁf thἷ ἶialὁguἷμ “Iὀ ὁὄἶἷὄ tὁ ἶiὅἵὁvἷὄ what juὅtiἵἷ iὅ, Sὁἵὄatἷὅ will have to weave tὁgἷthἷὄ…thἷ ὅuggἷὅtiὁὀὅ ὂἷἵuliaὄ tὁ ἕlauἵὁὀ aὀἶ thἷ ὅuggἷὅtiὁὀὅ ὂἷἵuliaὄ tὁ χἶἷimaὀtuὅέ”34

In Book 2 of the Republic, Glaucon challenges Socrates to give an account of justice as desirable for its own sake.35 He says they should consider the lives of a perfectly just and a

ὂἷὄfἷἵtly uὀjuὅt ὂἷὄὅὁὀ aὀἶ “makἷ a ἵhoice rightly” Χ“ ”Ψέ36 The perfectly just and unjust should be imagined without the reputations and rewards of justice and injustice. Instead:

, , , , , , έ

while being greatly unjust, may [the uὀjuὅt ὂἷὄὅὁὀ’ὅ] ὄἷὂutatiὁὀ come to be one of great justice, and if he trips up somehow, he will be able to recover, to persuade and speak, if one of his injustices are found out, and when force is demanded, to use force, and to have use of strength and friends and money. (Plat. R. 2.361a-b.)

33 Annas 1981 at first (64-66) distinguishes between the two insofar as Adeimantus seems more long-winded than Glaucon and that they ask for slightly different things (Glaucon for praise of justice itself, Adeimantus for praise of justice for beneficial effects besides reputation), but soon (66) starts referring to the two as a group presenting the same ἵhallἷὀgἷέ ἤἷἷvἷ ἀίίἄ ἶiὅἵuὅὅἷὅ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ὅὂἷἷἵh aὅ a ὅuἴ-ἵatἷgὁὄy ὁf ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷέ ἦhὁugh ἐἷὄὀaἶἷtἷ 1989 has some nuance in his discussion of the two, far better examinations of their differences are found in Moors 1981, which examines the speeches of the two in great detail; Bloom 1991, which reads Adeimantus sympathetically; Blondell 2002, which argues that Socrates, Glaucon, and Adeimantus show characteristics of the ideal philosopher at different ὅtagἷὅ ὁf ἶἷvἷlὁὂmἷὀtν ἡ’ἑὁὀὀὁὄ ἀίίἅ, whiἵh ἶiffἷὄἷὀtiatἷὅ ἴἷtwἷἷὀ thἷ twὁ aὀἶ thἷὀ aὄguἷὅ fὁὄ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ greater philosophical acuity; and Howland 2018, which reads the Republic aὅ thἷ ἶὄama ὁf ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ failure to understand philosophy, with Adeimantus as a foil. 34 Strauss 1978, 91. 35 Plat. R. 2.358d2-3έ “I wiὅh tὁ hἷaὄ it [juὅtiἵἷ] ὂὄaiὅἷἶ ἴy itὅἷlfέ” Χ“ έ”Ψ ἦhiὅ ἵὁmἷὅ aftἷὄ a ἶiὅtiὀἵtiὁὀ ἴἷtwἷἷὀ thἷ ἶiffἷὄἷὀt reasons to desire goods—for their own sake, for the sake of their effects, and in spite of some effects for the sake of other effects, Plat. R. 2.357b-d. 36 Plat. R. 2.360e2.

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ἑὁὀvἷὄὅἷly, thἷ juὅt maὀ ὅhὁulἶ ἴἷ imagiὀἷἶ with a ὄἷὂutatiὁὀ fὁὄ iὀjuὅtiἵἷμ “ἦhὁugh hἷ iὅ ὀὁt at all unjust, may he have a great reputation for injustice, so that justice itself is tested, and is found unstained by bad reputation and thὁὅἷ thiὀgὅ that ἵὁmἷ fὄὁm ἴaἶ ὄἷὂutatiὁὀέ”37 ἕlauἵὁὀ’s conditions require the just and unjust to be considered in a world where society does not recognize virtue or vice. Both human society and the gods must reward injustice and punish justice, fooled by the reputations the unjust cultivate for themselves and by the sacrifices they perform.

ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ results, in part, from ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ aἵἵὁuὀt ὁf juὅtiἵἷέ If juὅtiἵἷ aὀἶ virtue are not connected to character, but to external circumstances like wealth and good luck, thἷὀ ὁὀἷ’ὅ ἶἷfἷὀὅἷ ὁf juὅtiἵἷ is threatened by cases where just behavior does not prevent misfortune. Glaucon does not want injustice to be praised as greater than justice, but he knows that a merely external account of the two states does little to justify justice against the skepticism of sophists like Thrasymachus. His Challenge is the strongest possible case he can make for injustice, and if Socrates can praise the just person even when that person is surrounded by misfortune, then virtue will have had a better defense than Cephalus ever could have given it. This may require Socrates to avoid reference to reward or punishment in the afterlife, and it may lead to the assumption of a topsy-turvy moral world where the just person always suffers and the unjust person always gets away scot- free. But if Socrates can handle these restrictions, the defense of justice that he would provide would be stronger than any other.

This, at least, is a charitable ὄἷaἶiὀg ὁf ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷέ There are problems with the

Challenge that affect the entire Republic, uὀἶἷὄὅἵὁὄἷἶ ἴy χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt aὀἶ ἴy Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ introduction to the Myth of Er. χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt ἶἷmὁὀὅtὄatἷὅ ἢlatὁ’ὅ awaὄἷὀἷὅὅ ὁf thἷ

37 “ , ” Plat. R. 2.361c.

Dvorak 23 problἷmὅ ὁf thἷ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, aὀἶ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ iὀtὄὁἶuἵtiὁὀ shows that the myth will respond to both speeches.

Before Socrates can respond to Glaucon, Adeimantus adds his own conditions for discussion. Claiming the issue was not adequately stated, Adeimantus says that by arguing with only a focus on the consequences of justice, rather than on justice itself, listeners are encouraged to become unjust. 38 Adeimantus asks for something subtly different than what Glaucon demands.

In his Request, he presents a critique of how poets and citizens praise justice. Citizens praise justice only for its external consequents,39 and though they praise justice and condemn injustice, they still discourse on the difficulty of being just and the ease of being unjust.40 Yet, because these same citizens praise external consequents like wealth and good reputation which they acknowledge come from injustice, and not justice, they praise, by proxy, injustice.4124 This limited praise of justice is seconded by the poets, who praise the external rewards of justice while condemning injustice by reference to its divine punishments.42 At the same time, they make the vicious life seem preferable to the virtuous one by telling stories where even the gods burden just people with misfortunes.43 Even when the gὁἶὅ ἶὁ ὂay attἷὀtiὁὀ tὁ ὂἷὁὂlἷ’ὅ bad behavior, they

44 can be won over with sacrifices and rituals.

Because only the reputation and rewards of justice are praised, and because it is clear that the reputation and rewards of justice can be won without being just, intelligent young people think they should learn how to cultivate a reputation for justice without in fact being just.45

38 Plat. R. 2.362d. 39 Plat. R. 2.362e-363a. 40 Plat. R. 2.363e-364a. 41 Plat. R. 2.364a. 42 Plat. R. 2.363d. 43 Plat. R. 2. 364b. 44 Plat. R. 2.365d-366a. 45 Plat. R. 2.365a-c.

Dvorak 24

Thrasymachus, Glaucon, and Adeimantus are all products of this culture, and their confusion aἴὁut Χaὀἶ, iὀ ἦhὄaὅymaἵhuὅ’ ἵaὅἷ, aὀimosity toward) justice is the natural consequence of an environment where the only praise of justice focuses on its external consequents:

, , , , έ , , , έ

But what each [justice and injustice] is itself, what its own power is when it is in the soul of the one that has it and escapes the notice of gods and men, no one has said enough either in poetry or in a private account, an argument that one is the greatest of evils that the soul has in itself, while justice is the greatest good. For if it had been spoken of in this way by you all from the start, from our youth on convinced us, we would not be guarding against the injustice of others, but each would be his own best guardian, fearing that he should dwell with the greatest evil. (Plat. R. 2.366e-367a.)

χἶἷimaὀtuὅ haὅ iὀtὄὁἶuἵἷἶ, ὀὁt ὁὀly aὀ ἷxtἷὀὅiὁὀ tὁ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, ἴut a mὁὄἷ ὀuaὀἵἷἶ and challenging portrait of moral thought. Far from being simply an extension of the Challenge, the Request analyzes the sociological conditions of moral education, the different effects moral discourse has on different personalities, and the overall importance of praising the virtues themselves. It is this focus on the soul that enables the education of those who can be

“guaὄἶiaὀὅ,” ὀὁt ὁf the city, but of themselves.46

Though it lacks the poetic force of the Ring of Gyges,47 the Request also introduces

46 In these focuses, as well as in the use of thἷ wὁὄἶ “guaὄἶiaὀ” Χ“”Ψ iὀ a ἶialὁguἷ whἷὄἷ guaὄἶiaὀὅ aὄἷ thἷ ἷlitἷ class of an ideal city, Plato foreshadows the upcoming Books, creating a plot built, not of action, but of argument. 47 The Ring of Gyges thought experiment, which accompanies Glaucon’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, iὀvitἷὅ thἷ ὄἷaἶἷὄ tὁ imagiὀἷ

Dvorak 25 a more real danger to the discussion. Where Glaucon supposes a moral world in which the

“tὄuἷ” ὄἷὅultὅ ὁf juὅtiἵἷ aὀἶ iὀjuὅtiἵἷ aὄἷ ἵhaὀgἷἶ tὁ become the opposite of what they really are, Adeimantus argues that this is already the state of the moral world, as it is taught to the youth of Athens; where the Ring of Gyges could allow people to do evil, sophistry poses the same threat in reality. Annas, perhaps fairly, notes the long-winded, even

ὁvἷὄwὄὁught, tὁὀἷ ὁf χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ὅὂἷἷἵh Χiὀ ὂaὄtiἵulaὄ itὅ fὁuὄ ἷὀἶiὀgὅΨέ48 Yet her reading, aὀἶ thὁὅἷ likἷ χltmaὀ’ὅ, whiἵh ὄἷaἶ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ aὅ “ἵὁmὂaὄativἷly ὁἴtuὅἷ,”49 do not highlight the themes revealed by a reading which focuses on his speech. Howland, in

ἵὁὀtὄaὅt, ὄἷaἶὅ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ aὅ a “ὀatuὄal ally ὁf juὅtiἵἷ” aὀἶ a ἵaὄiὀg aἶvὁἵatἷ ὁf ἕlauἵὁὀ whὁ ὄἷἵὁgὀiὐἷὅ hiὅ ἴὄὁthἷὄ’ὅ miὅὅtἷὂὅέ50 His reading is, as a result, less political and more literary.

Apart from the subtle differences between what Glaucon and Adeimantus ask for, they show a difference in the character of their speeches. Glaucon focuses on the consequences of justice while insisting that these consequences should not matter, that justice be praised “iὀ itὅἷlfέ” χdeimantus wants justice to be praised, not for the effects of its reputation, but for the effects it has on the soul itself. While Glaucon still agrees with the system of values accepted and propagated by Cephalus and the elders of Athens, Adeimantus understands that it is the soul that matters more than anything, and that the fear of punishment should be replaced by a fear of being evil.51 χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ὅὂἷἷἵh, mὁὄἷ thaὀ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ, ἷxtἷὀἶὅ thἷ tἷὅtimὁὀy ὁf ἑἷὂhaluὅ, aὀἶ

herself in a quasi-mythiἵal mὁὄal laὀἶὅἵaὂἷ, muἵh aὅ ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅ ἶὁέ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt, thὁugh it laἵkὅ thiὅ mythical imagination, possesses a delicate understanding of the socio-political situation of Athens that a myth or thought experiment, because more universal, is not able to achieve. 48 Annas 1981, 65. 49 Altman 2012, 107. 50 Howland 2018, 26, and 1993, 84-86. 51 In the words of Bernadete 1λκλ, “ώἷ waὀtὅ thἷ muἶ iὀ whiἵh thἷ ὂὁἷtὅ ἴuὄy ὅiὀὀἷὄὅ tὁ ἴἷ aὀ image of the real ὂὄἷὅἷὀἵἷ ὁf iὀjuὅtiἵἷ ὁὀ thἷ ὅὁul” Χἂ1Ψέ

Dvorak 26

ἵὁὀtiὀuἷὅ ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ aὀalysis of the poets on justice. Adeimantus requests a philosophical description of moral character that moves beyond the luck of avoiding temptation and an account of philosophy that will, better than can myths, encourage moral behavior by inculcating a love of the good.

Glaucon and Adeimantus represent different views of moral life, and the rewards of justice and the punishments for injustice dealt in the underworld, far from being extraneous to the discussion of virtue in human life, are the necessary counterbalancἷ tὁ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷέ ἦhἷ

Challenge limits the moral universe of the Republic, preventing Socrates from describing morality in its full cosmological context. Glaucon wants Socrates to focus on the soul without reference to the rewards and punishments in society or the afterlife, but I would argue that it is important to remember that it is not necessarily possible to isolate one part of the cosmos, severing it from the system of which it is a part. If morality is enforced beyond mortal life, a full examination of morality cannot take place without reference to the afterlife and the rewards and punishments there. Glaucon asks his fellow interlocutors to blind themselves, their neighbors, and their gods, making them all ignorant to justice and injustice, and then asks them to prove the benefit of virtue. He is asking Socrates to justify justice to an audience who cannot know the moral order of the universe, to sing to a crowd who is deaf to virtue.

Adeimantus, meanwhile, asks for a defense of justice in a world where external consequences are unstable, but not inverted. He asks Socrates, not to praise justice in an unjust world, but instead to praise justice without reference to reputation, which is not always related to moral character, and with a skeptical view of the afterlife, that does not take the words of the poets as gospel. By addressing the tendency for justice to be recognized by humans, Socrates

ἴἷgiὀὅ tὁ ἷὅtaἴliὅh a ἴaἵkgὄὁuὀἶ fὁὄ a myth tὁ ὅatiὅfy χἶἷimaὀtuὅέ ἦhἷ myth’ὅ fὁἵuὅ ὁὀ thἷ lὁvἷ of wisdὁm aὀἶ fἷaὄ ὁf ἴἷiὀg ἷvil aὀὅwἷὄὅ ἴὁth χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt fὁὄ a ἶiὅἵὁuὄὅἷ that will tὄuly

Dvorak 27

ἷὀἵὁuὄagἷ viὄtuἷ aὀἶ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἶἷὅiὄἷ fὁὄ a ἵlἷaὄ lὁὁk at thἷ ὅὁulέ

The subtle allusions Plato gives to his brothers are reminders that their speeches differed, not so much in what they ask for, but more in what each assumes about the correct way to discuss morality and the just life. While Glaucon asks for a reversal of how justice works in the real world, Adeimantus asks for an attention to the sociology of moral education. In the Myth of Er,

Socrates answers these implicit assumption by undoing the limitations of the Challenge and answering Adeimantus’ concerns about the influence of myth and poetry with a myth ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ own.

Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ iὀtὄὁἶuἵtiὁὀ ἴἷgiὀὅ with arguments for the immortality of the soul. Glaucon at first expresses surprise that Socrates believes the soul is immortal.52 As intimated in the Phaedo,

Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ iὀὀἷὄ ἵiὄἵlἷ alὄἷaἶy kὀὁwὅ aἴὁut hiὅ ἴἷliἷf iὀ thἷ ὅὁul’ὅ immὁὄtality, ὅὁ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ surprise is notable. Perhaps his surprise is a sort of courtesy to readers who do not know fuller aὄgumἷὀtὅ fὁὄ thἷ ὅὁul’ὅ immὁὄtality; if Glaucon does not know about it, Socrates must explain that the soul is immortal, and this allows readers who do not know these arguments to be on level ground with the interlocutors. In any case, his ignorance of this basic feature of the soul characterizes ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ igὀὁὄaὀἵἷ ὁf thἷ ὅὁul generally. Socrates next describes the soul in a struggle for good against the temptations of money, power, and poetry.53 The nature of this struggle iὅ itὅἷlf ἷviἶἷὀἵἷ ὁf thἷ ὅὁul’ὅ immὁὄtalityέ Siὀἵἷ thἷὄἷ aὄἷ gὁὁἶ aὀἶ ἴaἶ thiὀgὅ ὂἷἵuliaὄ tὁ everything, the bad aiming to destroy while the good preserves, we can discover if something is destructible by looking at these goods and evils. Vices are the particular evils of the soul, while virtues are its particular goods. If the particular evil of something cannot destroy it, then it is

52 Plat. R. 10.608d. 53 Plat. R. 10.608b.

Dvorak 28 indestructible. Because vice cannot destroy the soul, the soul is immortal, and it has an afterlife.54

This discussion leads Socrates to describe the rewards for virtue and punishments for vice.

ώἷ ὄἷfἷὄὅ tὁ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ ἷxὂliἵitly aὀἶ ὅayὅ hἷ haὅ mἷt it, ὂὄaiὅiὀg juὅtiἵἷ withὁut reference to the benefits of a just reputation or by making the assumption that injustice will be punished by society or the gods.55 He proceeds to give a miniature sociology of justice, examining the external consequences of just and unjust lives. What he presents is the antithesis of the perfectly juὅt aὀἶ uὀjuὅt livἷὅ iὀ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷν thἷ juὅt tἷὀἶ tὁ ἴἷ ὄἷἵὁgὀiὐἷἶ aὅ juὅt aὀἶ tὁ reach distinguished positions in their cities, while the unjust tend to be recognized as such and punished.56 This return to rewards is, I argue, a necessary correction to the discussion as Glaucon restrained it. The Challenge creates a world where morality is punished and immorality is rewarded. This reversal of the real mὁὄal wὁὄlἶ iὅ, χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt ὄἷmiὀἶὅ uὅ, mὁὄἷ likἷly to discourage its listeners from acting virtuously than it is to encourage virtuous action. While the path to virtue is uphill, it is in fact less arduous than the path to vice, when one considers the actual consequences the vicious must live with, and must face when they die.

The limitatiὁὀὅ ὁf ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἷxtἷὄὀal fὁἵuὅ aὄἷ highlightἷἶ iὀ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἶἷὅἵὄiὂtiὁὀ ὁf thἷ soul:

, , , , ξἌ,

54 Plat. R. 10.608e-609a. 55 “Wἷ havἷ ἵὁmmἷὀἶἷἶ juὅtiἵἷ ὀἷithἷὄ fὁὄ itὅ ὄἷwaὄἶὅ ὀὁὄ fὁὄ itὅ ὄἷὂutatiὁὀ, aὅ yὁu ὅaiἶ ώἷὅiὁἶ aὀἶ ώὁmἷὄ ἶὁ, ἴut we have discovered that justice itself is best for the soul itself, and that it should do just things whether it has the ring of Gyges or not, oὄ ἷvἷὀ thἷ hἷlmἷt ὁf ώaἶἷὅέ” Χ“ , , , , , , ν”Ψ Plat. R. 10.612a-b. 56 Plat. R. 10.613d-e.

Dvorak 29

έ , , , , , , , έ , , …έ , , , , , , έ

But to know the truth about the soul, it is necessary to see it, not as we have done, but rather unburdened by the body and other evils, spotless in the light of reason, as it ought to be viewed. Then all that you search for will be visible, justice and injustice seen clearly, and all that we have now passed through. We have said the truth of the soul as it is now, how it presently appears. We beheld it in our minds and seen it is like the sea-god Glaucus, whose fundamental nature is not easily seen. The ancient parts of his body have been broken off, crushed and altogether broken by the swollen waves; and new foreign parts have become attached to him, shells and sea-weed and rocks, and all of this makes him more like an animal than what he is naturally. This is how we see the soul, surrounded by many evils. We muὅt tuὄὀ ἷlὅἷwhἷὄἷ, ἕlauἵὁὀ, aὀἶ lὁὁk…at itὅ lὁvἷ ὁf wiὅἶὁm, aὀἶ what summons its gaze and is like to it, the divine and immortal and always-existing that it is born of. We must see what it would be if it were pried up from the se where it is anchored, scraped free of the rocks and barnacles now covering it, having settled into earthly life, the rocky crust which is the earthly feast called eudaimon. (Plat. R. 10.611b-612a.)

This passage involves a complex game of allusions to Glaucon and Adeimantus. The sea-god

Dvorak 30

Glaucus, a shapeshifter, is a pun on Glaucon, whose name is nearly identical. The pun of the names suggests that the inquiry of Glaucon, which led to the different ideal cities which decay and change, by focusing on the external rewards and obstacles to virtue, has focused incorrectly on an unstable moral world. The Myth of Er, meanwhile, is that of a “ὅtὄὁὀg” man Χ“”Ψ,57 and features the Spindle of Necessity, which is made of adamantine metal,58 and inspires an adamantine faith.59 These details all allude to Adeimantus, who focuses more closely on the virtues and the soul itself. These puns do not, alone, establish a dichotomy between the brothers, but when considered next to the distinctions between them demonstrated in their speeches and the differences between their characters generally, such allusions suggest that an already- established dichotomy is being reprised here. I would argue that Socrates is implying that in the

Myth of Er, he will turn to the concerns of Adeimantus, and that in doing this, he will look beyond the shifting focuses of the external to the essential state of the virtuous soul. The part of

60 the myth where he does this is the one I have called the Judgment of Souls.

According to Er, when he awakens in a “daimonic ὂlaἵἷ” Χ“ ”Ψ where souls come after death, he finds four chasms, two in the ground and two in the heavens.61 Souls are judged, here, based on whether they are just or unjust. Those souls judged just travel a heavenly circuit, entering one of the chasms in the heaven to see beautiful things. Unjust souls travel an infernal circuit, entering one of the earthly chasms and suffering tenfold the pain they

57 Plat. R. 10.614b. 58 Plat. R. 10.616c. 59 Plat. R. 10.618e. See also Plat. R. 2.360b, where Glaucon says no one would have such adamantine moral fiber as to resist the Ring of Gyges, and Plat. Gorg. 509a, where Socrates declares that he has an adamantine belief that to do wrong is worse than to suffer it. 60 Plat. R. 10.614b-616b. 61 Plat. R. 10614b. The role of the daimonic in Plato is complicated and extends throughout many of his dialogues, from the Apology where Socrates discusses his daimonion, or divine sign, to the Symposium, where Socrates is explicitly compared to a daimn in a description of Eros. A thorough exploration of the daimonic is not possible here, but the subject is treated in its religious context in Burkert 1985, 179-1κ1έ ἔὁὄ aὀ ἷxὂlὁὄatiὁὀ ὁf thἷ ἵὁὀἵἷὂt’ὅ ἷvὁlutiὁὀ across time, see Dodds 1962. For an examination of the daimn in Plato, see Dvorak 2019.

Dvorak 31 caused in mortal life. Furthermore, the unjust can be so incurably evil as to be thrown into

Tartarus, doomed to remain there. For those lucky souls that do not suffer this fate on the infernal circuit, and for the souls on the heavenly circuit, at the end of one thousand years, they return through the other chasms back to where they were judged, and continue their journey, which is described in the rest of the Myth of Er.62

What Should a Soul Fear?: Punishment in the Myth of Er

On the surface, the Judgment of Souls appears, like the myths which terrify Cephalus, meant to inspire fear in the reader, or to imply that one must be good just to avoid torment. If it does this, it definitely falls prey to the objections of Adeimantus, and risks encouraging people to be vicious by describing only the external effects of injustice, and not presenting an argument for how justice helps the soul itself. One might also object that to introduce such a blunt encouragement to good behavior weakens the argument of the Republic. Plato has, so far, avoided praising justice on the basis of its benefits in the afterlife. To do so now would indicate that he thinks his case is not well-made, and that he must introduce a final, fear-mongering argument, to live a virtuous and just life. If this is not a philosophical problem, it at least would detract from the rhetorical and poetic force of the dialogue. Why would Plato want to encourage obedience through fear at this point, after claiming that philosophy can encourage virtuous behavior through reason? If he were trying to induce fear in his readers, how effective can this be when he has thus far criticized the myths he is now imitating? These are questions of consistency. How can the myth be consistent with the rest of the Republic if it switches tonal registers so drastically?

There are some initial objections to such a reading of the Judgment of Souls. A reading

62 Plat. R. 10.614b-616b.

Dvorak 32 that finds the myth aimed at non-philosophical readers who feel fear at myths of punishment first of all assumes that thἷ ‘ἑἷὂhaluὅἷὅ’ ὁf the world will be reading the entire Republic and only taking away a fear of punishment. The readers dedicated enough to make it to the end of this long dialogue are able to understand that there are reasons to be good beyond the fear of punishment in the afterlife. Furthermore, Plato spends little time describing the punishment of the unjust in the Myth of Er. Er does not witness any torture himself, but only says that the unjust suffer tenfold their vicious acts, that incurable cases are thrown into Tartarus, and that the unjust fear such a fate. He learns these things, not by witnessing them directly but rather by the report of someone who has walked the infernal circuit.

The fear that the unjust have of eternal punishment reflects the fear of Cephalus, just as the role of Er recalls the role Cephalus took in Book 1. Cephalus, like the unjust, is afraid of punishment because he is on the threshold of judgment. He is similar to the unjust souls, not because he is himself vicious, but because both, when they are unsure of their moral status, panic. Though he has escaped the passions which used to be his masters, his fear of punishment is his new master. Like Er, meanwhile, Cephalus reports on his moral perspective from a liminal position near death, though neither has yet died. He is, like Er, standing before judgment without knowing how he will be judged. Yet, unlike Er, he feels fear at this threshold, while Er reflects on the Judgment of Souls with a philosophical distance.

ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ fἷaὄ mὁtivatἷὅ him tὁ ὅaἵrifice to the gods. It is to tend to a sacrifice, in fact, that he leaves the dialogue. Er, meanwhile, awakes from his vision on a pyre himself, as though he were being sacrificed. While both are involved in a liminal activity that involves both the mortal and divine worlds, they are involved in different ways. Cephalus participates with the divine in an external way, while Er undergoes a personal journey, reflecting his own internal and philosophical understanding of morality. ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ ὅaἵὄifiἵἷ is reminiscent of his external,

Dvorak 33 act-based perspective on virtue, while the Myth of Er presents a view of virtue based in character and the essentially internal choice of life.

Cephalus is, finally, more similar to Er than to the unjust souls. Neither have philosophical training, but both must come to terms with the journey all souls must take—from life to death, and, in death, from the unsure world of mortal morality to the clear cosmos of morality in the afterlife. While they are equally unsure of how they themselves will fare, Er manages to maintain a distance from his emotions while observing the action of the afterlife.

Plato implies, I will argue in my chapter on the Spindle of Necessity, that it is this distance we, as philosophical readers, are meant to emulate through philosophy when considering the fate of our immortal souls.

Er feels no fear, in contrast with Cephalus, though they are in similar positions, and neither know for sure how they will be judged when they die. Plato implies that this is because Er has a focus on the self, while Cephalus focuses on virtuous acts. To make this point clearer, I will turn to a later scene in the myth which contains the first choice in the Lottery of Lives. The first choice of lives is made by a person who, in his last life, lived in a well-ordered city and was judged virtuous. He chooses for his next life, however, the life of a tyrant who eats his children.63

He has chosen a bad life because, in mortal life, he did wἷll haἴitually, “withὁut ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy”

Χ“ ”Ψέ64 Though the first soul is rewarded for his virtuous actions, he is, in the end, punished by his own ignorance of morality. What matters to choosing a life is not correct actions, but correct understanding of the moral order.

This has bearing on Cephalus, who does good actions out of fear of punishment, not out of philosophy, nor from a fear truly being evil. He does well largely by chance, having come to age

63 Plat. R. 10.619b. 64 Plat. R. 10.619c9.

Dvorak 34 in a fairly well-ordered city and having inherited his wealth.65 Even when he avoids temptation, it is because he has grown old enough that it no longer sways him. But that he has inherited good moral fortune means little in the scheme of the Myth of Er. Like the first chooser of lives, who wins the lottery but loses once he must choose what life is worth living himself, and like the many walkers of the heavenly circuit who make the same mistake,66 Cephalus is merely good by fortune, not by his understanding of morality. Those who walk the infernal circuit have in common with the first chooser of lives an ignorance of the moral order of the cosmos, and so, to them, the workings of this system seem arbitrary and frightening. Cephalus is like these souls, not because he is vicious—the first soul is, after all, judged virtuous—but because he does not take a detached, philosophical look at his own character in his considerations of morality. His fear is not the result of facing punishment, but the product of his moral confusion and the mastery of his fear over his reason.

This is in part because Cephalus cannot see past the external aspects of life that Glaucon focuses on. If he could see past what is inessential to his own essential moral status, he would not fear punishment because he would know how to choose to be better. Likewise, the first chooser of lives would not become a tyrant, and the walkers of the infernal circuit would at least know if they were so incurably vicious as to be destined for Tartarus, and might even realize that it is not their punishment now, but their chose of lives later, that matters to their moral status. Readers of the myth too, if they follow the example of Er, would not need to fear tales of punishment in the aftἷὄlifἷέ ἦhἷy wὁulἶ ὀὁt “ὄἷἵkὁὀ uὂ” thἷiὄ aἵtiὁὀὅ aὅ ἑἷὂhaluὅ ἶoes, but would instead examine thἷmὅἷlvἷὅ aὀἶ thἷiὄ ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄὅ, ἴἷἵὁmiὀg thἷiὄ ὁwὀ “ἴἷὅt guaὄἶiaὀὅ” aὅ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ

65 Iὀ thiὅ way, hἷ iὅ ὅimilaὄ tὁ thἷ fiὄὅt ὂἷὄὅὁὀ tὁ ἵhὁὁὅἷ hiὅ ὀἷxt lifἷ, ἷὅὂἷἵially ὅiὀἵἷ thἷ wὁὄἶ fὁὄ “iὀhἷὄitaὀἵἷ” aὀἶ “lὁt” iὅ the same ΧΨέ 66 Plat. R. 10.619d3, most of those who choose bad lives quickly, without being careful, are from the heavenly circuit, ἴἷἵauὅἷ thἷy aὄἷ “uὀἷxἷὄἵiὅἷἶ iὀ ὂaiὀ” Χ“ ”Ψέ

Dvorak 35 recommends.

The fear felt by Cephalus highlights his lack of moral clarity, and it is not implied that this fear should be shared by the reader. What response, then, does the Judgment of Souls give to

ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ fἷaὄἍ It givἷὅ aὀ altἷὄὀativἷ tὁ fἷaὄ thὄὁugh thἷ ὂhilὁsophical detachment of Er. One could read the Judgment as a touchstone passage that tests if the reader has understood the focus on the soul that philosophy encourages. If readers feel fear reading the punishment of vicious souls in the Myth of Er, then they have not properly understood the importance of philosophy in moral thinking. Even if a soul is rewarded for good behavior in life, that does not prevent the soul from choosing a bad life. When reading the Myth of Er, the punishment of souls is secondary to the choice of lives. It is the choice of lives that shows what souls love and what we, as mortals, should fear. We could choose to live a vicious life without realizing it, and that choice would be our real punishment. It iὅ Eὄ’ὅ ἷxamὂlἷ that ὅhὁwὅ uὅ hὁw tὁ mὁtivatἷ thἷ ὅὁul tὁ ἵhὁὁὅἷ wἷll, not by fear, but by reason and detached analysis.

ἦhἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ aὀὅwἷὄὅ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀge by righting the moral universe and placing viὄtuἷ iὀ a ἵὁὅmiἵ ὂἷὄὅὂἷἵtivἷέ It aὀὅwἷὄὅ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt ἴy lὁὁkiὀg at thἷ ὅὁul’ὅ relationship with virtue and vice, rather than the external consequences of justice and injustice. It also responds to the fears and speech of Cephalus. This is in part because Er, like Cephalus, reports on the moral world from the threshold of death. The Myth of Er, like the speech of

Cephalus, will show how morality appears when one is about to die and the world of the afterlife becomes clearer. It risks being misread, however, in its treatment of punishment in the afterlife.

According to Cephalus, the myths of the underworld cause fear in those that hear them, even if they are not believed. They also act as touchstones for moral understanding. Those who have not developed a philosophical understanding of virtue may be shaken by descriptions of punishment

Dvorak 36 in the afterlife, but those who are sure of their moral thinking probably will not fear myths of the afterlife. In the Myth of Er, the Judgment of Souls might play this role, but it does not discourage bad behavior by describing the punishment such behavior earns.

The Myth of Er places moral choice back in the context of a cosmos in which the private, public, and divine coordinate and agree morally—a cosmos where different realms harmonize through morality. It turns the focus of the Republic toward the soul itself, focusing on the fear of evil and love of wisdom that truly encourages people to be good and to base ethics in character and inner life, not only in actions and external circumstances. Finally, it tests the understanding of its readers by imitating the myths of judgment from Homer and Hesiod only in its surface details, while not in fact encouraging moral behavior through its depiction of punishment. Rather, it implies that what matters is not the external rewards of virtue but the choice of lives made every time humans reflect on their moral lives.

The Myth of Er is not an incongruous or superfluous addition to the Republic. It responds tὁ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, ὅatiὅfiἷὅ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt, aὀἶ aὀὅwἷὄ ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ fἷaὄ. It enfolds the concerns of these characters, responding to them in an integrated form that places the moral inquiry of the Republic in a cosmic context. The Myth of Er is a myth, which makes it different from the philosophical discourse of the rest of the dialogue. But because it is a philosophical myth, it fulfills a purpose which is different from that of a non-philosophical myth. The myth shows how philosophy solves the problems of moral life by encouraging the reader to focus on what is essential, not what is external. It looks past the barnacles of the soul to what matters— the choice to live a good life.

This part of the myth does not contradict earlier parts of the dialogue, nor should it be read as one of the myths that frightens Cephalus or concerns Adeimantus. While it employs

Dvorak 37 mythological imagery and treats typically mythological subjects, like the afterlife and the punishment the gods meet to unjust souls, it does so in a way that is different to how myths treat those subjects. It is, instead, a corrective to the myths of Homer and Hesiod, meant to test the

ὄἷaἶἷὄ’ὅ uὀἶἷὄὅtaὀἶiὀg ὁf ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄ aὀἶ mὁὄality, not to inspire fear or to manipulate non- philὁὅὁὂhiἵal ὄἷaἶἷὄὅέ ἦhἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ iὅ “ὀὁt a talἷ ὁf χlἵiὀὁuὅ” ἴἷἵauὅἷ it ὅὂἷakὅ tὁ ὄἷaὅὁὀ, ὀὁt to emotion, because it is like the whole of the Republic, meant to instruct the reader with a philosophical drama. Dvorak 38

III. The Spindle of Necessity: The Philosophical Myth and its Messenger

At the center of the Myth of Er is a structure called the Spindle of Necessity. In this chapter, I will analyze this structure and the role it plays in the myth, but first I will treat a stumbling-block that stands in the way of aὀy attἷmὂt tὁ fiὀἶ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal mἷaὀiὀg iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅέ This stumbling-block is the criticism of allegory that Socrates offers in the Phaedrus. This criticism at first seems to attack any attempt to find meaning in mythology, but I would argue that it is in fact limited to certain kinds of myths.67 Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἵὄitiἵiὅm allὁwὅ fὁὄ ὅὁmἷ mythὅ tὁ ἴἷ aὀalyὐἷἶ philosophically, and the Myth of Er is one of those myths. Its meaning can be found in its presentation and structure, but also in its characters and setting, which create a portrayal of the universe and the best way to navigate it.

The Allegorical Interpretation of Myth in the Phaedrus

In response to an allegorical interpretation of the myth of a local wind god, Socrates says to

Phaedrus:

, , , , , , , , , έ , , έ

67 This criticism is, as one advisor notes, perhaps not the main thing that prevents an allegorical reading. Rather, one might ask why the truth must be expressed in myth when philosophy has done well enough so far. I would suggest that the myth expresses in poetic form what cannot be fully addressed philosophically, at least in this dialogue. The criticism of allegory in the Phaedrus, meanwhile, specifies the purpose of allegory as Socrates sees it. What prevents allegory from being meaningful should be avoided, but the things left uncriticized are possible paths to meaning. Dvorak 39

έ , , , , , , έ

Phaedrus, while I find such explanations to be elegant things, they are the dreadful task of a not completely fortunate man, for only this reason, that necessity dictates after this he exposes the form of the Centaurs, and then the Chimera, and then flowing upon him a whole crowd of creatures, Gorgons and Pegasi, ominous placeless [] wὁὀἶἷὄὅ uὀiὀtἷὄὂὄἷtable []έ If ὁὀἷ of those who are suspicious brought close the probable truth, using a field- dwelling wisdom, he will need a lot of leisure. For these subjects I have not a bit of leisure, and this is why: I am not able yet, as the Delphic command puts it, to know myself. It seems silly, being ignorant of that, to examine what is foreign to me. So, amused nonetheless, I am persuaded by the common beliefs about these things, as I just said, and I investigate not them, but myself, to see whether I am something furious like Typhon, a labyrinthine wild animal, or rather a simple day- dwelling creature, as if some divinely humble lot was naturally given to me by the fates. (Plat. Phaedrus 229d-230a.)68

Socrates criticizes some instances of allegory, but not all. He says that the interpretation of myths is laborious, connecting this specifically to the content of the myths being allegorized. The mythὁlὁgiἵal ἵὄἷatuὄἷὅ liὅtἷἶ aὄἷ “,” litἷὄally “withὁut mἷaὀὅ” ὁὄ “imὂὁὅὅiἴlἷ tὁ attaἵh mἷaὀiὀg tὁέ” Whἷὀ uὅἷἶ iὀ ὄἷfἷὄἷὀἵἷ tὁ ἶὄἷamὅ aὀἶ ὁmἷὀὅ, thἷ wὁὄἶ mἷaὀὅ “uὀiὀtἷὄὂὄἷtaἴlἷέ”69

ἦhἷ ἴἷiὀgὅ aὄἷ alὅὁ “,” “ὂlaἵἷlἷὅὅ,” a wὁὄἶ whiἵh iὀἶiἵatἷὅ a resistance to analysis (and is

68 Text of the Phaedrus used is that of Burnett 1901. 69 This word, in Plato, tends to refer to emotions like happiness or confusion when experienced to such a degree that they cannot be measured. I would argue that, in this case, the meaning intended iὅ “uὀiὀtἷὄὂὄἷtaἴlἷ,” aὅ whἷὀ uὅἷἶ tὁ describe dreams. Dvorak 40 also a word used at times to describe Socrates himself).70 Given that the beings Phaedrus is trying to allegorize are explicitly meaningless, it is of course a pointless task to look for their meaning. This suggests, not that the analysis of myths is doomed, but that in certain cases, the meaninglessness of the myths themselves prevents coherent analysis, and that their atopia may make that analysis too difficult for some people and some strategies of analysis.

Socrates emphasizes that the interpretation of individual myths is doomed, not just when individual myths withhold meaning, but also when the interpretive project is too mechanistic.

Understanding a single myth, like the wind god that Phaedrus explains, does not explain any others. Rather, it only implies that other myths deserve an allegorical treatment, and that each of them must be explained separately. In addition, then, to being at times impossible or prohibitively difficult to understand, myths can be too separated from each other to be allegorized in any practical and complete way. The task, finally, has no point so long as the myths have no relation to the human soul. Socrates finds it a waste of time to allegorize myths that cannot reveal things about human life.71

This criticism of allegory applies only to the philosophical interpretation of myths as

Socrates describes it. When the mythological creatures described cannot be interpreted in any meaningful way, when the task is too mechanistic, and when the myths explain nothing about

70 Cf. Plat. Symέ ἀ1ἃa, whἷὄἷ χlἵiἴiaἶἷὅ ὅayὅ it iὅ “aὀythiὀg ἴut ἷaὅy” tὁ ἶἷὅἵὄiἴἷ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ atopia; Plat. Sym. 221d, where Alcibiades says that, due to his atopia, it is impossible to compare Socrates to other men; Plat. Euthyph. 3a and Apol. 26e, where Socrates says the charges brought against him, because contradictory, are atopa; Plat. Phaedo 59a, where those present for the death of Socrates experience a shared atopia; these examples give an idea of the types of experiences and phenomena described as atopic. These things are typically difficult to explain or describe and involve confusion and bewilderment. Those who are untrained in philosophy typically appear unable to interpret atopic things at all, ἴut ἵaὀ ἶἷὅἵὄiἴἷ, aὅ iὀ χlἵiἴiaἶἷὅ’ ἵaὅἷ, hὁw it fἷἷls to approach them. Atopia, however, does ὀὁt aὂὂἷaὄ tὁ ἴἷ withὁut iὀtἷὄἷὅt tὁ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhyέ ἡὀ thἷ ἵὁὀtὄaὄy, ἷὅὂἷἵially iὀ thἷ ἵaὅἷ ὁf Sὁἵὄatἷὅ, thἷ “mὁὅt ὂlaἵἷlἷὅὅ” Χ“”Ψ Χἢlatέ Theaet. 149a9) of men, it indicates philosophical weight. Thus, atopic beings may be resistant to analysis, but even this does not mean they should not be analyzed. 71 Sἷἷ ἔἷὄaὄὄi 1λκἅμ “It iὅ thἷ aὀtiὃuaὄiaὀὅ’ ὁἴὅἷὅὅiὁὀ with hiὅtὁὄiἵal faἵt aὅ aὀ ἷὀἶ iὀ itὅἷlf ὄathἷὄ than their focus on myth aὅ ὅuἵh that ἷaὄὀὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἶiὅaὂὂὄὁval” Χ11Ψέ Dvorak 41 humaὀity’ὅ ὂlaἵἷ iὀ thἷ ἵὁὅmὁὅ, allἷgὁὄy iὅ a laἴὁὄiὁuὅ taὅk with ὀὁ ἵlἷaὄ ἴἷὀἷfitέ Yἷt if thἷ myths in question did have some apparent meaning, if they could be interpreted with a clear end in sight, and if they were about a cosmos with a clear place for humans, those myths could be interpreted, and the laborious task of interpreting those myths would be worthwhile.72

ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅ ὁftἷὀ iὀvὁlvἷ ὁὄ iὀtὄὁἶuἵἷ a fὁἵuὅ ὁὀ ἵὁὅmὁὅ, thἷ ὁὄἶἷὄἷἶ uὀivἷὄὅἷ connected to, but beyond, the human world. This includes the natural world, but more typically for the myths involves the plans and structures of the divine and daimonic worlds, including systems of judgment and the organization of celestial bodies. Where most of the Republic examines the structures of political life, the myth is a picture of a larger structure that involves the divine, daimonic, and human. The cosmos is the world that is more structured and larger than the human world. When cosmological phenomena are portrayed through the myths, a grander and fuller perspective can be achieved, and human morality is seen as part of the cosmos, connected to the divine and fundamentally ordered.73

How Can a Platonic Myth have Meaning?

Does the Myth of Er portray a meaningful cosmos that explains more than isolated phenomena, and does it give a place to the human soul? Another way of asking these questions is to see if the

72 It is worth noting, in brief, that Plato regularly has Socrates state his approval for laborious philosophical projects, and that he does not indicate that the size of a project should be a barrier to our undertaking it. When Socrates says a ὅuἴjἷἵt iὅ a waὅtἷ ὁf timἷ, aὀ iὀtἷὄlὁἵutὁὄ ὄἷὅὂὁὀἶὅ, tὁ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ aὂὂὄὁvalμ “It ἶὁἷὅὀ’t ὅἷἷm at all tὄifliὀg tὁ mἷ Χhἷ said), for it seems, Socrates, that the saying is true, that what is fine is ἶiffiἵult” Χ“ , , μ , , , ”Ψ ἢlatέ R. 4.435c7-8, and at another point Sὁἵὄatἷὅ ἷmὂhaὅiὐἷὅ that ὂhilὁὅὁὂhἷὄὅ iὀ ὂaὄtiἵulaὄ aὄἷ ὁὂἷὀ tὁ attἷmὂtiὀg gὄaὀἶ iὀtἷllἷἵtual ἷὀἶἷavὁὄὅμ “ἦhiὅ man you speak of has always this thing, leiὅuὄἷ…aὀἶ hἷ ἶὁἷὅ ὀὁt at all ἵaὄἷ if a ἶiὅἵuὅὅiὁὀ iὅ lὁὀg ὁὄ ὅhὁὄt, ὁὀly ἵaὄiὀg if hἷ ἵaὀ ἵhaὀἵἷ uὂὁὀ what iὅέ” Χ“ , , … , έ”Ψ Plat. Theaet. 172d4-9. 73 In this cosmological focus, the Myth of Er can be read as a prelude to the Timaeus. The focus of this dialogue, which takes place the day after the Republic (Plat. Tim. 17c), is focused much more exclusively on cosmology, and gives a more philosophical treatment of matters treated poetically in the myth, including reincarnation and the structure of the cosmos. For an excellent treatment of the cosmology presented in the Timaeus, see Cornford 1997, which presents a commentary on the dialogue with special focus on cosmological detail. Dvorak 42 myth shows a cosmos that is open to reason. Is this a structure that can be interpreted, that invites the reader to attach meaning to it? To answer these questions, we will need to address some elements of how Plato presents his myths, but we will, in the end, need to look at the Myth of Er itὅἷlfέ ἦhἷ ἵlἷaὄἷὅt ὂὄὁὁf ὁf thἷ myth’ὅ mἷaὀiὀg iὅ that thἷ ἵὁὅmὁὅ it portrays invites analysis and favors those who act rationally and philosophically.

The first way one can see that Plato means his myths to be understood philosophically is how he frames them. This framing iὀἵluἶἷὅ ἴὁth thἷ ὂlaἵἷmἷὀt ὁf mythὅ iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἶialὁguἷὅ aὀἶ

Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἵὁmmἷὀtaὄy ὁὀ thὁὅἷ mythὅ whἷὀ thἷy aὂὂἷaὄέ ἐy iὀἵluἶiὀg hiὅ mythὅ aftἷὄ philosophical argument, Plato indicates that the two belong together. This is especially noticeable in the cases where similar myths appear after the discussion of similar themes across dialogues, a ὂattἷὄὀ that iὅ ἵlἷaὄ iὀ thἷ aὂὂἷaὄaὀἵἷ ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ juἶgmἷὀt mythὅέ χftἷὄ a ἶiὅἵuὅὅiὁὀ of the immortality of the soul in the Phaedo, Sὁἵὄatἷὅ ὂὄὁὂὁὅἷὅ that hἷ tἷll a “mythὁὅ” aἴὁut thἷ afterlife, to supplement his mundane geography.74 After a discussion of morality and its effect on the soul in the Gorgias, Socrates gives an account of souls being judged.75 The Myth of Er follows a discussion on similar themes, directly following arguments for the immortality of the soul and a description of the effects of just and unjust acts on the soul. Plato follows his philosophical discussions of morality and immortality with myths; this indicates that his myths add particularly to his thoughts on these subjects.

74 Plat. Phaedo 110b. 75 Plat. Gorg. 523a-524b. The judgment myth of the Gorgias presents a unique interpretive challenge because Socrates, before telling it, insists that it is not a myth ἴut a “lὁgὁὅ” Χἢlatέ Gorg. 523a). There are two ways to take this point. Either Plato is making a broad distinction between his myths and Homeric ones—while the Homeric mythὅ aὄἷ uὀtὄuἷ, ἢlatὁ’ὅ aὄἷ tὄuἷ, aὀἶ thuὅ aὄἷ muthoi, not logoi—or he has Socrates change how he presents his myth for the less sympathetic audience of this dialogue. I lean toward the second interpretation, but in either case, thἷ ὅtὁὄy iὀ thἷ ἕὁὄgiaὅ ὂlayὅ thἷ ὅamἷ ὄὁlἷ aὅ mythὅ iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὁthἷὄ ἶialὁguἷὅ, fὁllὁwiὀg a ἶiὅἵuὅὅiὁὀ ὁn a related theme and being accompanied by commentary from its teller. Dvorak 43

ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἷὅἵhatὁlὁgiἵal mythὅ alwayὅ ἵὁmἷ at thἷ ἷὀἶ ὁf thἷiὄ ἶialὁguἷὅέ ἦhiὅ ὅuggἷὅtὅ they comment on the arguments that precede them, and Socrates frequently justifies his telling of a myth based on how the argument calls for them. In the Phaedo, he says that the myth is the complement to his account of earthly geography. In the Gorgias, the quasi-myth he says the myth is meant to emphasize the ethical points he has been making. In the Republic, the Myth of

Er is presented to show the rewards of justice and punishments for injustice in the afterlife, as a complement to the consequences of moral and immoral behavior in mortal life. The placement of these myths, and the purposes named for each of them, justifies including them in their dialogues. The meaning each provides beyond these explicit functions can be interpreted allegorically, through analyzing the characters and environments each uses to represent the cosmos. The Myth of Er fulfills its explicit purpose by portraying the Judgment of Souls; in its presentation of Er as a hero, and its presentation of the landscapes and events he witnesses in the

Spindle of Necessity and Lottery of Lives, it provides further meaning that must be interpreted allegorically.

χὀὁthἷὄ iὀἶiἵatὁὄ that ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὄἷaἶἷὄὅ can allἷgὁὄiὐἷ hiὅ mythὅ iὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἵὁmmἷὀtaὄy on those myths. At the end of the Phaedo’s myth, Socrates encourages his listeners to take the lesson of the myth to heart,76 and in the Gorgias, Socrates ends the myth by explaining its moral and telling his listeners to remember it.77 The Myth of Er, similarly, is interspersed with

Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ἷxὂlaὀatiὁὀὅ ὁf ἶiffἷὄἷὀt ὂaὄtὅ ὁf thἷ myth aὀἶ what thἷy mἷaὀέ χt thἷ lἷaὅt, thiὅ means that Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ iὀtἷὄὂὄἷtatiὁὀὅ ὁf these parts of the myth are valid philosophical allegory. This suggests, more generally, that the Myth of Er can be analyzed somehow, and that it provides openings to its meaning that Socrates takes advantage of. We, as readers, can look for other ways

76 Plat. Phaedo 114c-d. 77 Plat. Gorg. 524b. Dvorak 44 into the myth, and can analyze it as a work with meaning, a meaning that is explicated, at least in part, by Socrates, and implied by its placement in the context of philosophical discussion.

Everyman and ϊaimὀ: Er as Interpretive Lens

Yet another avenue of interpretation is provided through the character of Er. It iὅ Eὄ’ὅ εyth that ends the Republic, aὀἶ it iὅ fὄὁm Eὄ’ὅ ὂἷὄὅὂἷἵtivἷ that ὄἷaἶἷὄὅ witὀἷὅὅ thiὅ ἢlatὁὀiἵ aftἷὄlifἷέ This is especially meaningful when one ἵὁὀὅiἶἷὄὅ that ὁf all ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἷὅἵhatὁlὁgiἵal mythὅ, thiὅ iὅ the only one with a protagonist who reports on what he has seen. The inclusion of a protagonist and narrating character gives readers a personality to identify with. χll myth, ἢlatὁ’s included,

ὂlayὅ a mὁὄal fuὀἵtiὁὀ that iὅ ὄἷfἷὄἷὀἵἷἶ ἴy ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ, whὁ ἷxὂlaiὀὅ that “thἷ imitatiὁὀ [thἷ performance of a myth] employed by senders affects receivers, who seek to make themselves, in

ἷffἷἵt, ὅimilaὄ tὁ thἷ ἴἷiὀg ἷvὁkἷἶ ἴy thἷ ὀaὄὄativἷέ”78 The imitation by the audience of the heroes and gods in the myths they are told is of concern to Plato in other parts of the Republic79.

Er is arguably to be taken as a kind of moral exemplar and is given characteristics both to facilitate and direct this identification.

There are still difficulties in understanding how readers should identify with Er. He is a hero in that he recounts a myth and does the same things as other heroes, completing a katabasis and showing bravery in battle. He also shows the temperament, but not the understanding, of a philosopher. Where Cephalus felt fear thinking about the underworld, Er maintains a critical distance from the things he sees, and this attitude, it is implied, should be imitated by the reader.

78 ἐὄiὅὅὁὀ ἀίίἂ, 1κέ χὀ iὀtἷὄἷὅtiὀg ἷxtἷὀὅiὁὀ ὁf thiὅ fuὀἵtiὁὀ may ἴἷ fὁuὀἶ iὀ Eliaἶἷ 1λκἅ, λἄμ “Evἷὄythiὀg that thἷ gods or the ancestors did, hence everything the myths have to tell about their creative activity, belongs to the sphere of the sacred and therefore participates in being. In contrast, what men do on their own initiative, what they do without a mythical model, belongs to the sphere of the profane; hence it is a vain and illusory activity, and, in the laὅt aὀalyὅiὅ, uὀὄἷalέ” 79 Plat. R. 3.395b. Dvorak 45

(Philosophy, after all, is meant to produce the same freedom from confusion as Er naturally assumes.) Yet he does not show an understanding of the things he sees. He is a messenger, not a sage, and the message he delivers still requires a philosopher to interpret it—a task in part completed by Socrates, in his commentary on the myth. I would argue that Er is representative of a philosophical temperament, while he does not have philosophical understanding. The reader,

ἴἷἵauὅἷ ὅhἷ ὅhaὄἷὅ Eὄ’ὅ ἵὄitiἵal ἶiὅtaὀἵἷ fὄὁm thἷ ἷvἷὀtὅ ὁf the myth, already is similar to him in that they both are trying to understand the phenomena of the afterlife. This requires a reflective outlook unclouded by emotion, and insofar as this outlook is philosophical, the temperament that allows it is a philosophical one. This does not make Er a philosopher, but it makes him a kind of role model for philosophers as someone whose character should be, in part, imitated. While the non-philosophical reader might stop there, the philosophical reader will go further than Er, and try to understand the images and events he merely reports.

I would argue that, at least in some ways, Plato creates ways for the reader to identify with Er. I will proceed by investigating the aspects of the character that allow this, first analyzing the traits that suggest he is an everyman, second his heroic traits, third those traits that are suggestive of poetic personae, and fourth his philosophical traits.

Er is presented, first and foremost, as a kind of everyman for the reader to identify with.

ώiὅ ὀamἷ ὅἷἷmὅ tὁ ἵὁmἷ fὄὁm thἷ wὁὄἶ “” whiἵh mἷaὀὅ ἴὁth ὅὂὄiὀg aὀἶ ἴlὁὁἶ, and perhaps can be taken to represent life. He dies and is reborn,80 and he represents the world of the living in the world of the dead. The reader is like him in that they, too, are alive and will face death, while the other characters in the myth are either dead (in the case of the human souls) or beyond death

(in the case of the Fates and Necessity)έ Eὄ’ὅ gἷὀἷalὁgy fuὄthἷὄὅ hiὅ uὀivἷὄὅal aἵἵἷὅὅiἴilityέ His

80 Plat. R. 10.614b. Dvorak 46 tribe is called Pamphlion, a word mἷaὀiὀg “Evἷὄy-Tὄiἴἷέ”81 He, unlike the heroes of Homeric epic, iὅὀ’t fὄὁm a ὅiὀglἷ iὅlaὀἶ likἷ Ithaἵa ὁὄ Skyὄὁὅέ ώiὅ tὄiἴἷ iὅ ὀὁt a ὅiὀglἷ ὂἷὁὂlἷ ἴut iὅ

“Evἷὄy-ἦὄiἴἷέ” Where the homes of Odysseus and Achilles anchors them to a specific group of people, and gives their stories a special significance to those people, this myth does not. The

Myth of Er is not the myth of a single place or people. It is a myth of every tribe, and it is open for any reader to identify with.

This does not mean that Er is entirely a blank slate. He is chosen to be the messenger of what he sees in the afterlife, and this marks him as unique among the human characters of the myth and distinct from his readers. He carries a mandate that grants him authority to speak on divine matters that is similar to the authority of divinely inspired poets. While the other souls in the afterlife are judged just or unjust, Er is told he is to be a messenger to mankind, and that he should look and listen to what happens in the afterlife.82 As the just are sent to the upper world and the unjust to the lower, Er the messenger is ordered to return to the human world. His role is similar to that of a vates or poet-priest like Homer or Hesiod. Poets are not trained by any logos and do not learn of the gods in any scientific way. Rather, they are inspired by the muses or the gods with the knowledge needed to tell a story. Neither does Er learn of the afterlife by any science.83 He is granted the knowledge he needs to tell his story by the judges of the soul who allow him to witness the afterlife and he delivers his myth with a special authority granted by the divine. Yet he is also more authoritative than Hesiod. Hesiod is divinely inspired; the muses

81 Plat. R. 10.614b. 82 Plat. R. 10.614d. 83 ἡὀἷ ἵὁulἶ ἷvἷὀ ὄἷaἶ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ iὀtὄὁἶuἵtiὁὀ ὁf thἷ myth aὅ a ὅtatἷmἷὀt ὁf Eὄ’ὅ divine inspiration. Socrates says he “will tἷll, ὀὁt a talἷ ὁf χlἵiὀὁuὅ, ἴut that ὁf a ὅtὄὁὀg maὀ” Χ“ , ”Ψ Plat. R. 10.614b2-ἁέ ἦhiὅ iὅ a ὂuὀ ὁὀ χlἵiὀὁuὅ’ ὀamἷ, ἴut thἷ wὁὄἶ alcimous also hides an etymological distinction. Whilἷ χlἵiὀὁuὅ iὀἶiἵatἷὅ “ὅtὄἷὀgth + miὀἶ” Χ + Ψ, alcimous ἵὁmἷὅ fὄὁm “ὅtὄἷὀgth + muὅἷ” Χ + ). Thus, the Myth of Er is not a scientific account, but an account strengthened by the muses, by divine inspiration. Dvorak 47

“taught ώἷὅiὁἶ thἷ ἴἷautiful ὅὁὀgέ”84 Yet the muὅἷὅ alὅὁ “kὀὁw hὁw tὁ ὅay maὀy falὅἷ wὁὄἶὅ iὀ thἷ ὅamἷ way thἷy ὅay thἷ tὄuthέ”85 Er does not need to worry about the truth of what he witnesses because he witnesses it himself. While he has the authority of a divine mission to tell his tale, he also has thἷ authὁὄity ὁf ὅὁmἷὁὀἷ whὁ ἶὁἷὅ ὀὁt ὀἷἷἶ tὁ ὄἷly ὁὀ aὀyὁὀἷ ἷlὅἷ’ὅ accounts.

Er also has the traits typical of an epic hero. He is a warrior slain in battle. He tells the tale of his own journey. He bears obvious similarities to the heroes who have performed katabases, especially Odysseus. Both characters perform a katabasis that grants them special knowledge, both speak with the dead, and both tell their stories to an audience. Yet while

Odysseus speaks only to shades, Er speaks to souls themselves. While Odysseus tells his story to a ὄὁyal auἶiἷὀἵἷ, Eὄ’ὅ ὅtὁὄy iὅ ὁὂἷὀ tὁ ἷvἷὄyὁὀἷ who would read it. While Odysseus descends into a cave and learns about his own earthly homecoming, Er sees the system of the cosmos itself through the Spindle of Necessity and leaὄὀὅ aἴὁut thἷ tὄuἷ ὅὂiὄitual hὁmἷἵὁmiὀg ὁf thἷ ὅὁulέ Eὄ’ὅ tale has the power of a hἷὄὁ’ὅ ὅtὁὄy, ἴut haὅ alὅὁ thἷ mὁὄal wἷight aὀἶ ὅtὄἷὀgth ὁf ὂhilὁὅὁὂhyέ86

The hero of the myth plays, in the end, several roles for the audience that allow them to identify with him and shape that identification. Er is not just another soul in the afterlife, and this suggests that the philosophical reader must view the afterlife in a unique way. Distinct from the other souls in the underworld, Er is not judged. Instead of journeying on the upward heavenly circuit or the downward infernal circuit, Er is immediately allowed to continue to the valley and pilgrimage toward the Spindle of Necessity. He, alone of the assembled souls, is not given a lot and allowed to choose a life. Because he is a messenger to mortals of what he sees in the

84 Hes. Th. 22. 85 Hes. Th. 27. 86 ἐaὄὄaἵhi ἀίίἀ aὄguἷὅ fὁὄ thἷ ὅtὄὁὀgἷὄ ὂὁiὀt that Eὄ’ὅ myth iὅ a “ὂὁlἷmiἵ Χif alὅὁ aὂὁlὁgἷtiἵΨ ὄἷὅὂὁὀὅἷ” tὁ ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ kataἴaὅiὅ, maiὀly ὁὀ thἷ viἷw that thἷ nekuia ὁf ώὁmἷὄiἵ kataἴaὅiὅ iὅ a “utiliὐatiὁὀ” ὁf thἷ ἶἷaἶ Χ1ἁἄΨέ Dvorak 48 afterlife, he is set apart from the other figures of the myth. He is neither of the mortal souls who walk the paths of the heavens and the underworld, nor is he one of the figures officiating the juἶgmἷὀt, thἷ ὅὂiὀἶlἷ, ὁὄ thἷ lὁttἷὄyέ χll ὁf thiὅ iὅ hἷightἷὀἷἶ ἴy Eὄ’ὅ ὄἷὅuὄὄἷἵtiὁn, which marks him as unique both in the battlefield on which he is found and in the cosmos.

Neither Er, nor the process and system he reports on, is entirely mortal or immortal, not clearly human or clearly divine. He occupies a daimonic place and plays a daimonic role. He, like the daimn Eros,87 delivers a message from the gods to humanity, and because of this has a strange placelessness about him. He neither belongs to the daimonic place he is in, nor does he move through it like the souls he came to it with. As Gonzalez notes, being a messenger

“litἷὄally ὄἷὃuiὄἷὅ him tὁ ἴἷ mὁὄἷ thaὀ humaὀ aὀἶ thuὅ a kiὀἶ ὁf daimon, as shown by his

ἷὅἵaὂiὀg ἶἷath…aὀἶ hiὅ aἴility tὁ ὄἷtuὄὀ tὁ thiὅ lifἷ withὁut haviὀg ἶὄuὀk thἷ watἷὄ ὁf Lêthêέ”88

He witnesses the workings of the afterlife without at all participating in them, and it is this

ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄiὅtiἵ that ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὄἷaἶἷὄὅ ὅhaὄἷ with Eὄέ ἠὁt ὁὀly iὅ Eὄ ὁὂἷὀ tὁ iἶἷὀtifiἵatiὁὀ fὄὁm aὀy reader, but he also leads that reader into the role of the philosopher. Through the myth, the philosophical reader can learn about the cosmos without being punished or rewarded, can see how the afterlife works without dying, and can see the structure of the cosmos itself from a distance. Er is a figure that stands separate from the action of his myth, and his detachment is a gift to the reader as well.

This attachment allows both him and us to see the choice of lives with more clarity than those actually choosing the lives. The souls undergoing judgment are limited in their perspectives. The reasoning of those judged vicious is clouded by fear of punishment, and those

87 The similarity betwἷἷὀ Eὄ aὀἶ Eὄὁὅ aὂὂἷaὄὅ ὂuὄὂὁὅἷful tὁ mἷ, aὀἶ ἵὁulἶ ὅuggἷὅt ἴὁth Eὄ’ὅ daimonic qualities and his role as a representative of a mindset driven by love for wisdom and freedom from overwhelming focus on emotion. 88 Gonzalez 2012, 271. Dvorak 49 judged virtuous are not automatically aware of what earned them their moral status. This lack of clarity in the virtuous is seen most clearly in the case of the soul who chooses the life of a tyrant.89 This soul is raised in a well-ordered city but fails to develop any moral sensibilities of his own, and so makes two mistakes. First, he chooses a bad life, both by becoming a tyrant and by accidentally eating his children, and second, he blames the gods and the system of the afterlife for his choice right after being told he alone is responsible for his choice. Er finds this lack of moral clarity more amusing than distressing, saying that the exchange of lives between humans and animalὅ iὅ “ὂitiful, fuὀὀy, aὀἶ ὅuὄὂὄiὅiὀgέ”90 He is not subject to the moral confusion of those choosing their new lives, even if he is not clearly a paragon of virtue. Since they have read the

Republic, the readers of the Myth of Er have considered virtue and vice more than the average person, more even than Er. The perspective of readers is not divine, but daimonic. Like Er, they can see things at a distance, but they can also understand and interpret what they see.

Er has the benefit of memory. While the other souls must drink from the Lethe, river of forgetfulness, after choosing their next lives, he does not.91 This is important for the narrative of the myth itself, since there needs to be a way for Er to remember what he has seen once he has been resurrected. It also points toward a similarity with philosophers. Souls who drink deep remember less of the cosmos—philosophers remember more.92 Socrates even tells us that the

Myth of Er must help his audience remember what they can, and maintain a knowledge of the

89 Plat. R. 10.619b-c. 90 “ … ,” ἢlatέ Rέ 1ίέἄἀίaέ Whilἷ “” iὅ a wὁὄἶ gἷὀἷὄally uὅἷἶ tὁ ἶἷὅἵὄiἴἷ imὂὄἷὅὅivἷ ὂhἷὀὁmἷὀa, “” aὀἶ “” havἷ mὁὄἷ ὅὂἷἵifiἵ mἷaὀiὀgὅέ ἦhἷ fὁὄmἷὄ ὄἷfἷὄὅ tὁ anything deserving or receiving pity. The latter can be used to describe anything provoking mirth or laughter, including theatrical comedy. The scene of the choice-of-lives provokes the reactions typical both to comedy and tragedy. Perhaps this is a slight allusion to the Symposium, where Socrates argues that the same person could be both a tragedian and a comedian? 91 Plat. R. 10.621b. 92 Plat. R. 10.621a. Dvorak 50 cosmos.93 This theme of memory makes readers like Er in another way, but also emphasizes the

ὂὁwἷὄ ὁf myth tὁ ἴἷ mἷmὁὄaἴlἷέ Eὄ’ὅ ἴὁἶy maiὀtaiὀὅ itὅἷlf fὁὄ tἷὀ ἶayὅ aftἷὄ ἶἷath—the myth should hold the knowledge of the cosmos with the same security from decay,94 allowing it to be

“ὀὁt lὁὅt, ἴut ὅavἷἶέ”95

Er is a complex figure whose features are in part constructed to differentiate his myth from others, and in part to invite the reader to identify with him. He is not a typical hero, but instead has a unique perspective that shapes how the reader interprets his story. What Er reports is what the reader sees, and what Er thinks about his experiences are what the reader is invited to think as well. And because Er is distinguished among the souls in his myth, and because the myth is his, the landscape of the myth and the knowledge of the cosmos that he gains from that landscape is the knowledge that suits such a hero. It is not the wisdom of an Odysseus or

Achilles, but the wisdom of Er—the wisdom of someone who does not panic in the face of moral choice, and who is chosen to convey knowledge of the daimonic and divine. The cosmos that chooses Er as its messenger is painted in miniature through the Spindle of Necessity. As Barrachi points out, the Myth of Er is, in addition to the things that happen in the afterlife, the landscape he describes.96 ἦhἷ ὅymἴὁl ὁf thἷ Sὂiὀἶlἷ ἵὁὀfiὄmὅ what, thὄὁugh Eὄ’ὅ ὀaὄὄatiὁὀ, ὅἷἷmὅ obvious—that the cosmos welcomes and rewards philosophy, and that knowledge of that cosmos, when preserved and remembered, teaches those who know it how to live.

93 Plat. R. 10.621b-c. 94 χὀὁthἷὄ aὅὂἷἵt ὁf Eὄ’ὅ ὅafety from decay is that he returns from death in a battle, which alludes to the struggle between good and evil the soul must endure. 95 Plat. R. 10.621b. 96 Barrachi 2002, 178. Dvorak 51

“Binder of the Heavens”: the Spindle of Necessity and an Ordered Cosmos

The Spindle of Necessity itself further differentiates ἢlatὁ’ὅ myth fὄὁm ώὁmἷὄ’ὅ aὀἶ ὅuggests why the cosmos that the Spindle supports is one welcome to philosophy. The Spindle not only binds the cosmos together, but binds humanity to the cosmos, allowing the Myth of Er to have philosophical meaning.

The Spindle of Necessity:

, , , … , , ’ , , έ… ’ έ , , έ , , ’, , , , , , , , έ , , έ , , έ

extends from all the heavens above to the ground, a straight stretch of light, like a ὂillaὄέ It iὅ mὁὅt likἷ a ὄaiὀἴὁw, thὁugh ἴὄightἷὄ aὀἶ ὂuὄἷὄ…fὄὁm thἷ miἶἶlἷ ὁf the light, the furthest strands of it stretch like chains to the heavens; for this light was the binder of the heavens, like the under-girders to a trireme, turning the Dvorak 52

whole thing around and keeping it together. From these furthest points is made the Spindle of Necessity, around which all orbits turn. The distaff and hook of it are built of adamaὀt, aὀἶ thἷ whὁὄl iὅ maἶἷ ὁf thiὅ aὀἶ ὁthἷὄ kiὀἶὅ ὁf mἷtalὅ…έ ἦhἷ Spindle turns on the knees of Necessity. Atop each circle [of the whorl] stood a Siren traveling round, each singing a sound, one note, and from the eight Sirens arose a single harmony. There are another three sitting spaced equally, the daughters of Necessity, the Fates. They are clothed with white bands and hoods, Lachesis and Clotho and Atropos, singing in harmony with the Sirens, Lachesis of what was, Clotho of what is, and Atropos of what will be. Clotho with her right hand turns the outside of the Spindle, pausing sometimes, and Atropos with her left similarly turns the inside of the Spindle. Lachesis, alternately, lends each hand to each. (Plat. R. 10.616b-617d.)

Excised from this excerpt is a long description of the whorl of the Spindle of Necessity. The whorl presented is a model of the solar system including the heavenly bodies and their orbits.

This is notable as a philosophically described cosmological model, but in terms of allegorical interpretation, its details are already well-described in other places.97 The whorl does, however, establish the tone and context of the Spindle image as a whole. The whorl represents the celestial dimension of the cosmos in a way that mortals can view and analyze it. The Spindle represents the cosmos in a similar way, making the impenetrable understandable, the inapproachable open, and the typically fantastic and (to recall the passage from the Phaedrus discussed above) meaningless language of myth a rational and philosophically meaningful picture of the cosmos.

By repeatedly emphasizing the binding elements of the Spindle itself, which has bonds

ὄἷaἵhiὀg thἷ hἷavἷὀὅ Χ“ ”Ψ aὀἶ ἴiὀἶὅ thἷ whὁlἷ Χ“”Ψ aὅ a giὄἶlἷ Χ“”Ψ

97 Schils 1993 analyzes how the Spindle of Necessity is described in visual terms, aὄguiὀg that ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἶἷὅἵὄiὂtiὁὀ iὅ consistently visualizable. Adam 1963 treats the cosmological elements of the Spindle as fully as I think is necessary, providing an overview of the relevant scholarship, illustrations of the whorls in their ratios, and a discussion of the imὂliἵatiὁὀὅ fὁὄ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵally ἶἷὅἵὄiἴἷἶ ἵὁὅmὁlὁgy Χἀμἂἂ1-453). Dvorak 53 likἷ thἷ uὀἶἷὄ giὄἶἷὄὅ ὁf a ὅhiὂ Χ“ ”Ψ, thἷ uὀifiἷἶ mὁtiὁὀ ὁf thἷ Siὄἷὀὅ aὀἶ ὅὂheres

Χ“”Ψ, thἷ Siὄἷὀὅ aὀἶ ἔatἷὅ ὅiὀgiὀg tὁgἷthἷὄ iὀ haὄmὁὀy Χ“

”Ψ aὀἶ thἷ ἔatἷὅ ὅὂiὀὀiὀg tὁgἷthἷὄ Χ“”Ψ, Plato portrays the Spindle, and thus the cosmos it represents, as a system governed by reason, essentially at peace, and above all ordered. This is not a universe where anything is isolated. Rather, the heavens are bound together and united. A harmony between the divine, daimonic, and human is effected by the cooperation of those different planes.98

The Sὂiὀἶlἷ iὅ thἷ “ἴiὀἶἷὄ ὁf thἷ hἷavἷὀὅ” Χ“ ”Ψέ99 It is a literal beam connecting and binding all things together, but it also metaphorically supports the cosmos, connecting the divine and human realms, and thus uniting divine metaphysics and mortal ethics, the morality of the soul and the morality of the city. While the cosmos is remote from a human perspective, while the planets and stars are part of separate spheres, and while the abstract world of metaphysics is, at a first glance, distinct from the concrete world of the ethical, the different parts of the cosmos are united and move in an ordered way. The Spindle binds the divine to the human. As the thing that binds the cosmos, the Spindle is the image that restores the cosmic perspective to discussion of morality and justice in the Republic. While virtue without consequence is detached from reality, the Spindle forces ethical choice to have cosmic impact, and makes humans a part of the cosmos.

The Spindle as binding force represents alὅὁ ἢlatὁ’ὅ wὄitiὀg itὅἷlfέ Whἷὄἷ thἷ ἷthiἵal aὀἶ cosmological are separate in previous authors, and while the divine is portrayed as separate from the mortal, in Plato the two subjects and two worlds collide in a coordinated and rational system.

98 Barraἵhi ἀίίἀ gὁἷὅ ἷvἷὀ fuὄthἷὄ, aὄguiὀg that thἷ mὁtiὁὀ ὁf ὅὁulὅ aὀἶ ὂlaὀἷtὅ iὀ thἷ myth iὅ thἷ ὅamἷμ “thἷy aὄἷ broght back to a profound unity of pitch, pulse, aὀἶ ὄhythm” Χ1κλΨέ 99 Plat. R. 10.616c. Dvorak 54

This is not just a literary innovation for the sake of innovation, but it also shapes the cosmos that the myth presents. In Homer, divine and human morality are separate. Because of this, the divine feels always at a remove from human concerns and normal moral life. In the Pre-Socratics, while the cosmos is analyzed rationally, it is rarely connected to the ethical. In Plato, the cosmological and ethical are treated together, as part of a unified system. The planets are part of the Spindle just as much as the human choice of lives is part of it. The mythological world that is hostile to humanity is past, replaced by a world that includes humans in typically daimonic and divine matters.

As part of his effort to integrate human philosophy into the cosmos, Plato appropriates the imagery of myth in the Spindle of Necessity. The inclusion of the Sirens, the Fates, and the goddess Ananke herself, strengthen the Myth of Er while shaping and subverting the expectations of the audience. The Sirens, originally monsters from the Odyssey, become peaceful creatures singing on the spheres of the whorl. While in Homeric mythology they tempt men to their deaths with their song, here they sing for every soul and the entire cosmos, not to cause death but as part of a process of rebirth. Their song is not sung with any ulterior motive, but is sung as part of a harmony, creating the music of the spheres. Plato takes an image familiar to his audience as a scene of the vicious and chaotic presence of the mythological, but removes from that image all of its selfishness and danger, suggesting that the divine is not hostile or arbitrary, but rather understandable through human reason and essentially ordered, as predictable as a harmony or the orbit of a heavenly body. One does not need to tie oneὅἷlf tὁ a ὅhiὂ’ὅ maὅt tὁ hἷaὄ this Siren song, but only needs to stand witness like Er.

In an effort to erect a cosmological hierarchy purer than that of Hesiod and Homer, Plato also gives a central role to Ananke, or Necessity, and her daughters, the Fates. Ananke, Dvorak 55 according to Hesiod, is born alongside Chronos, while, in the Timaeus, Plato gives an alternate genealogy, by which Ananke is “ὂἷὄὅuaἶἷἶ” ἴy ἠὁuὅ tὁ allὁw thἷ ἵὁὅmὁὅ tὁ ἴἷ ἴὁὄὀέ100 Her hiὅtὁὄy aὅ a figuὄἷ iὀ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy iὅ a lὁὀg ὁὀἷέ “χὀaὀkἷ” aὅ a non-ὂἷὄὅὁὀifiἷἶ “ὀἷἵἷὅὅity” iὅ referenced in several pre-Socratics as an explanation for physical phenomena,101 but also appears as a deity in several philosophers.102 Parmenides makes mention of her,103 and Empedocles refers to her as oppressive, saying she forced his soul into his body.104 In many of these cases, Ananke is significant as one of the earliest gods and as a constant influence on human life, but it is only in this myth that her Spindle supports the heavens.

χὀaὀkἷ’ὅ daughters, the Fates, do not arbitrarily plan the lives of mortals in a way that prevents mortals from having any choice, but rather enact the choices mortals make completely freely. In presenting the Fates in this way, Plato does not seem to so much react against a tradition of the Fates—there is not, in early poetry, all that much to react against105—so much as he provides a non-hostile interpretation of what may seem like beings who work against the free choices of humans. While Barrachi argues that the silence of Ananke and the Fates leads to an image of the cosmos as hostile and resistant to interpretation,106 I would argue that this misses

100 Plat. Tim. 48a. 101 Guthrie 1962, 81. 102 Guthrie 1965, 34-36. 103 Sedley 1999 discusses Necessity in Parmenides, but is inconclusive on whether she is meant as a deity or a natural force personified for poetic effect. 104 Guthrie 1965, 163, 254. 105 Information on the Fates in early Greek myth proves difficult to find. Though the Fates are named in Hesiod, and though their names provide some context to their functions—Clotho means Spinner, Lachesis means Lot-giver, and Atropos means Unavoidable—they are never mentioned by name in Homer, and are invoked, it seems, mainly as an oppressive but for the most part hidden force. Gantz 1996 summarizes information on them thoroughly, noting that they are present, either individually or as a group, at several important births and foundings in Pindar and that there is a tradition of Apollo seducing the Fates with wine (7-8). (Perhaps thiὅ iὅ thἷ ὅὁuὄἵἷ ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ iἶἷa iὀ thἷ Timaeus ὁf ἠὁuὅ “ἵὁὀviὀἵiὀg” ἠἷἵἷὅὅityἍΨ χὀ imὂὁὄtaὀt ἵhaὀgἷ ἢlatὁ makἷὅ iὅ tὁ thἷ gἷὀἷalὁgy ὁf thἷ ἔatἷὅέ χἵἵὁὄἶiὀg tὁ Hesiod, their mother is either Nyx or Themis, never Ananke. I am not sure what this change implies. In the case of Nyx, perhaps this is an adjustment to their genealogy to remove the darkness of having Night as a mother. Themis, meanwhile, is similar to Ananke in that both represent enforced order, but is different in that her force is moral while Anaὀkἷ’ὅ ὅἷἷmὅ tὁ ἴἷ mὁὄἷ ἵὁὅmὁlὁgiἵalέ ἢἷὄhaὂὅ thiὅ iὅ aὀὁthἷὄ aἶjuὅtmἷὀt tuὄὀiὀg thἷ fὁἵuὅ ὁf thἷ Republic away from the moral and political and toward the cosmological? 106 Barrachi 2002, 190-194. Dvorak 56 the point of how these they are portrayed. While not forthcoming with information, the Fates are not silent at all—they sing with the Sirens of the past, present, and future. With these beings,

Plato transforms images of determinism and a power beyond humans into a cosmic power that both greater than that of humanity and accommodating of human choice. The Spindle still belongs to Necessity, and the Fates still weave the lives of humans, but it is not these divine powers that determine what is necessary for humans or what they are fated to do—that remains the responsibility and power of humans themselves.

In this reinterpretation of the goddesses and the divine in general, Plato balances two effects. First, he maintains the sanctity and authority of the divine, removing the godly conflicts of Homer and Hesiod to present only an orderly structure beyond reproach. Second, he allows for a human role in the cosmos, and for the freedom of humans to shape their own lives while still being a part of a system more powerful than humanity alone. The cosmos as represented by the Spindle of Necessity, and thus the cosmos of the Myth of Er, is grander than human order, but is also open to be understood by human reason. It is neither a corrupt and hostile system that preys on humanity or falls prey to the same vices humans have, nor a tyrannical system that controls the lives of humans. Humans are both less virtuous than this cosmos and able to determine their place within the cosmos. It is a cosmos that is non-hostile and open to reason.

This is not only true of the Spindle, but is also a feature of the other parts of the Myth of

Er. His katabasis itself subverts other mythological katabases in its simplicity and lack of artifice.

Orpheus must trick his way into the underworld by soothing Cerberus with a song, and to leave with Eurydice, he must complete a trial which tests his will and self-control. Odysseus must perform a ritual sacrifice to speak to anyone in the afterlife, and his thwarted desire to embrace his mother marks his separation from the world he is visiting, and the discomfort that separation Dvorak 57 causes. Er, in comparison, is allowed to enter and leave the daimonic place of the myth unhindered and without obstacle. He does not need to perform any ritual or trick any guardian, but rather enters the afterlife as all souls do, and is chosen by the representatives of the divine to observe the afterlife. He does not experience discomfort in his interaction with the divine and daimonic, but rather views the cosmos from a detached philosophical perspective. And where, fὁὄ thἷ ἷὂiἵ hἷὄὁἷὅ, lἷaviὀg thἷ aftἷὄlifἷ iὅ a laἴὁὄiὁuὅ taὅk, fὁὄ Eὄ it takἷὅ ὀὁ ἷffὁὄt at allέ Eὄ’ὅ conduct reveals the cosmos of his myth to be non-hostile and easy to navigate for those with a detached and rational temperament.

The geography of the Myth of Er alludes the geographies, not only in its appropriation of images from previous poets, but also in its allusions to those poets. An important image is that of the paths of virtue and vice that first occur in Hesiod. The paths which appear during the

Judgment of Souls—the upward of which leads to paradise for the virtuous, and the downward of which leads to punishment for the vicious—ὄἷἵall a vἷὄὅἷ ὁf ώἷὅiὁἶ’ὅ whiἵh χἶἷimaὀtuὅ references explicitly in Book 2 of the Republic. In Hesiod, the virtuous path, because upward, is more difficult.107 The path as metaphor of moral life is a common trope, used also by

Parmenides,108 aὀἶ it might ἴἷ ἵὁmὂaὄἷἶ thἷ gatἷὅ ὁf ivὁὄy aὀἶ hὁὄὀ iὀ ἢἷὀἷlὁὂἷ’ὅ ἶὄἷam iὀ thἷ

Odyssey,109 the gate of ivory deceiving and the gate of horn bringing truth. Plato similarly shows the heavenly circuit as one for those who live truly, the infernal circuit as one for those who are morally ignorant.

The use of these typically mythological images serves a philosophical purpose answer

χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt aὀἶ ὂὄἷὅἷὀts a myth consistent with philosophy. Rather than portraying the

107 Plat. R. 2.364c-d, referencing Hes. WD 287-89. 108 Fragments fὄὁm δakὅ’ δἑδ vέ ἃμ ϊἅ, iὀ whiἵh ἢaὄmἷὀiἶἷὅ ἶἷὅἵὄiἴἷὅ twὁ ὄὁaἶὅ, ὁὀἷ fὁὄ thὁὅἷ whὁ kὀὁw tὄuth and the other for those who know nothing. D4, these roads are barred by gates of night and day. 109 Hom. Od. 19.562-566. Dvorak 58 virtuous life as difficult, the cosmos as arbitrary, and divine beings as selfish and hostile to humaὀὅ, ἢlatὁ’ὅ myth ὂaiὀtὅ viὄtuἷ aὅ ὄἷὃuiὄiὀg ἷffὁὄt, ἴut iὀ thἷ ἷὀἶ ἷaὅiἷὄ thaὀ viἵἷέ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ final words at the end of the Republic are evidence of this, as he says that the Myth of Er will hἷlὂ itὅ ὄἷaἶἷὄὅ “ἶὁ wἷll” ὁὀ thἷ ὂath ὁf viὄtuἷέ110 The cosmos is ordered and beings as monstrous as the Sirens are made beautiful, the non-human worlds of the planets and gods are open to human reason, and the powers of Ananke and Fates fulfill the choices of humans, rather than determining their lives.

The Spindle of the Necessity represents a cosmos suited to the rational hero of Er. It is the central setting of a myth appropriate for philosophical analysis. Just as the cosmos allows for

Eὄ’ὅ ἶἷtaἵhἷἶ analysis and witness, the myth allows for the detached analysis of a philosophical reader. It fulfills the requirements of philosophical allegory discussed above. The myth presents an ordered cosmos that is not meaningless or arbitrary—rather, the world of the myth is unified and structured on the lines of reason, a world in which every element has a place. It is a cosmos where humans have a place—and because of this, analysis of the myth grants wisdom about how to live human life better. This is a myth that invites philosophical analysis because the world it presents is a philosophical one, where philosophers choose their lives well and philosophers are chosen to earn and communicate knowledge of the divine.

The Myth of Er allows for philosophical allegory because it is not like the myths Socrates criticizes—it is not a tale of Alcinous. Er is not Odysseus, not a No-man but an Everyman. His story is not for an elite crowd but for anyone who reads it, and it allows for all humans to freely choose their lives, unthreatened even by the gods. The journey of Er is not the journey of

Odysseus. It features similar monsters, especially the Sirens, but those monsters are not hostile to

110 Plat. R. 10.621d. Dvorak 59 anyone. The Sirens become beautiful and harmonious. The Fates are not beings bewailed by tragic heroes, but are the agents of human moral choices. They weave the past, present, and future as humanity decides. The Spindle orders and controls all of the activity of the daimonic place, and binds the cosmos together, not just literally, but metaphorically as well, by uniting the divine, daimonic, and human. The cosmos is order, not chaos. The divine, while more powerful and less corrupt than the human, still allows humans to control their lives. Despite the struggles ever-present in human life, the myth has made it clear, before the Lottery of Lives even begins— the Gods are not to blame.

Dvorak 60

IV. The Lottery of Lives: Day-Dwelling Souls and the Choice of

Odysseus

The final section of the Myth of Er, which I have called the Lottery of Lives, provides a plethora of topics to examine. This section has imὂliἵatiὁὀὅ fὁὄ ἢlatὁ’ὅ viἷwὅ ὁὀ fὄἷἷ will aὀἶ determinism,111 for his thoughts on the minds of animals and women,112 and for his conception of the cosmos in different dialogues.113 Yet, for all the philosophical relevance of these elements,

I will focus on the speech given to the souls, the ways different souls seek different lives, and the final choice of Odysseus, all of which are parts of the same theme of choice-of-life. The Lottery of Lives builds on the notions of philosophical temperament begun with the characterization of

111 According to the myth, while human lives are fated, according to the myth, humans are also completely free to ἵhὁὁὅἷ whatἷvἷὄ livἷὅ thἷy wiὅhέ What thiὅ imὂliἷὅ aἴὁut ἢlatὁ’ὅ viἷwὅ ὁὀ fὄἷἷ will iὅ ἶἷἴataἴlἷέ χὄἷ humaὀὅ iὀ fact free if they make only one choice undetermined by fate? And since that choice is heavily influenced by the life that soul has previously lived, is even this as free a choice as the characters of the myth say? Since daimones enforce the choice-of-life, and humans can fight the influence of their daimones, does this mean that the choice is not in fact fated? The choice of lives implies both a kind of determinism and a place in the cosmos for free choice by humans, but it is unclear which of these elements is predominant. For a more thorough discussion of the problem of free will in the myth, see Thayer 1988, 369-377. 112 Men and women are both allowed to choose whatever lives they wish, and there is an example both of a man choosing to become a woman and of a woman choosing to become a man. Furthermore, while examples of humans choosing the lives of animals abound, there is also an instance of animals choosing the lives of humans. Does this mean that animals are also part of the Lottery of Lives? And if this crossover between genders and species is a ἵὁmmὁὀὂlaἵἷ, aὅ thἷ myth imὂliἷὅ, what ἶὁἷὅ thiὅ ἷὀtail fὁὄ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy ὁf miὀἶ aὀἶ ὂὅyἵhὁlὁgyἍ ϊὁἷὅ thiὅ mean that animal souls are rational, or that they can gain rationality? Does Plato believe the souls of men and women are essentially the same, and does this change how his philosophy of gender is understood? The interchange of lives illustrates the interconnectedness of the cosmos in a way that suggests some equality across these barriers, but the impliἵatiὁὀὅ fὁὄ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy as a whole is by no means clear. 113 Reincarnation and other cosmological themes are portrayed in the Phaedrus and Timaeus differently than in the Myth of Er. In the myth, reincarnation is entirely determined by the choice of the soul, while in the Timaeus, souls reincarnate in different lives according to their characters, not their choices. In both the Phaedrus and the Timaeus, the cosmos, including the processes of reincarnation, are portrayed as orderly and rational, while in the Myth of Er reincarnation in particular is a chaotic part of the cosmos where reason features in only a few choices. Is the cosmos presented by the Myth of Er consistent with that in other dialogues? Does the context of each dialogue change how the cosmos is explained? And given that different sources deliver the cosmologies in these dialogues—an inspired Socrates in the Phaedrus, Timaeus in the Timaeus, and Socrates retelling Er in the Republic—could these differences be explained in part by the different speakers? The inconsistency at least suggests that the literary context of these accounts could influence the cosmologies Plato provides, and that a concept from one dialogue cannot automatically be taken as consistent with that from another. For arguments for the consistency of Platὁ’ὅ eschatological myths, see Inwood 2009. Dvorak 61

Er. It involves, not just the heroes who choose their next lives, but the characters of the Republic itself, and the choices of life they make in the mortal world. The importance of these choices is in large part the philosophical message of the myth, and understanding both the implications of

ἷaἵh hἷὄὁ’ὅ ἵhὁiἵἷ aὀἶ thἷ ώὁmἷὄiἵ thἷmἷὅ to which this part of the myth responds helps to clarify how this myth depends on and is inspired by previous mythological works. In the Lottery of Lives there is a final reminder that the myth is not a tale of Alcinous, but there are indications that it is not an anti-Odyssey, either.

“The Divine is Blameless”: Human Choice in the Lottery of Lives

The Lottery of Lives begins with an announcement from a prophet of Lachesis, the Fate of the past. After the souls have been gathered and given their lots, he says to them:

, έ , έ , έ , έ έ… , , , έ έ

Day-dwelling souls, this is the beginning of a new cycle of humans, whose birth signals death. Your daimones will not be determined by lot, but rather you shall choose your daimones. The one who draws the first lot will be first to choose a life to which he will be bound by Necessity. But virtue is without a master—each soul will have more or less of her as he honors or dishonors her. The one who chooses is responsible—thἷ ἶiviὀἷ iὅ ἴlamἷlἷὅὅ…ἷvἷὀ fὁὄ thἷ fiὀal ὁὀἷ whὁ chooses, if he chooses well and with care, he may choose a life with which he can be content, and not an evil one. May not the first choose carelessly, nor the last hopelessly. (Plat. R. 10.617d-619b.) Dvorak 62

As Thayer notes, the emphasis in this speech is not on the immortality of souls, but on their participation in a cycle of death and rebirth.114 ἦhἷ ἶἷὅἵὄiὂtὁὄ “ἶay-dwelliὀg” Χ“”Ψ makἷὅ thἷ ὅtatuὅ ὁf ὅὁulὅ amἴiguὁuὅέ ἦhἷ wὁὄἶ imὂliἷὅ “ὅhὁὄt-livἷἶ” Χiέἷέ “livἷὅ fὁὄ ὁὀly a ἶay”Ψ, but does this refer to the embodied lives of souls, which are a small portion of their whole lives?

Why is the ephemeral nature of human life emphasized when souls live on beyond death? Or is it thἷ ἵaὅἷ, aὅ ἦhayἷὄ aὄguἷὅ, that “ἶay-ἶwἷlliὀg” ἶἷὅἵὄiἴἷὅ thἷ mὁὄal ὂὄἷὅἷὀἵἷ ὁf ὅὁulὅ aὅ thἷy choose their lives, that is, the real awareness of moral choice that is achieved in the choice of lives?115 In this interpretation, it is as though the choice of life is the only moral choice, that the soul does not really live on earth or in paradise, but only when it chooses its next life.

I would argue that, while the moral presence of the choice of lives is alluded to with the

ὂhὄaὅἷ “ἶay-ἶwἷlliὀg,” thἷ ὂὁiὀt ὁf thiὅ ἶἷὅἵὄiὂtὁὄ iὅ ὀὁt that ὅὁulὅ makἷ ὁὀly ὁὀἷ mὁὄal ἵhὁiἵἷ in each cycle of death and rebirth, but that, for the most part, humans lack a continuous awareness of the importance of their moral choices to the entire cosmos. Where the Fates see all of time, the human soul sees only the day when it lives. This lack of cosmic perspective, I have suggested in my chapter on the Judgment of Souls, is meant to be remedied by philosophy and the Myth of Er.

Though the souls are given lots and this somewhat limits the selection of souls for those late in the Lottery, the prophet of Lachesis emphasizes that this does not actually prevent even the final soul from being able to choose a good life. This could be because most of the souls choose bad lives, and so good lives remain even for the final soul. It could also simply indicate that there are enough good lives that every soul could choose one. Allegorically, the ability of

114 ἦhayἷὄ 1λκκ, ἁκίμ “thἷ myth…is not in any serious sense about immortality at all. Its story is of human mortality…έ” 115 Thayer 1988, 376. Dvorak 63 any soul to choose a good life reflects the ability of any human to live a good life. Regardless of the lot one is given in the Lottery, there is still a worthwhile life to choose, and regardless of the lot one is given in lifἷ, thἷὄἷ aὄἷ gὁὁἶ ἵhὁiἵἷὅ tὁ ἴἷ maἶἷέ ἡὀἷ’ὅ ἷxtἷὄὀal ἵiὄἵumὅtaὀἵἷὅ ἶὁ ὀὁt matter as much as the actual character of the life chosen. It is more important to avoid misdeeds and viciousness than it is to seek a greater inheritance or build a greater fortune.

This leads to another theme of this speech, the pointlessness of blaming the divine and the process of the lottery for the results of the choice of lives. In the Myth of Er, the divine is not to blame, but the responsibility for life belongs always to the choices of human souls. While this idea carries with it a perennially problematic interpretation of reincarnation, that the unfortunate in life are always somehow to blame for their misfortune, the message of the myth focuses the

ὄἷaἶἷὄ’ὅ attἷὀtiὁὀ, ὀὁt on the misfortunes of poverty or illness, but on the loyalty of the soul to virtue. Plato does not blame those who live lives filled with misfortune for their problems, but rather blames anyone who fixates on non-moral problems for their lack of care for virtue and the soul itself. What matters is not the riches or external validations of a life, but the character of that life, and those who bemoan that they cannot find a good life to lead, to Plato, are not examining the choices before them carefully enough.

Part of how Plato insists the blamelessness of the divine is his portrayal of divine beings,

ὁὀἷ whiἵh ἴuilἶὅ ἴὁth ὁὀ thἷ ἵὁὅmὁlὁgiἵal ὂiἵtuὄἷ ὁf thἷ Sὂiὀἶlἷ aὀἶ ὁὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂὁἷtiἵ predecessors. I have already touched on how Plato portrays the cosmos as fair and open to reason. The choice of lives further demonstrates the power of reason to understand and evaluate lives, and the blamelessness of the gods continues the theme of the fairness of the cosmos. While the lives the souls choose are bound to them by Necessity and in a sense enforced by the presence of daimones, Plato is still insistent that humans are completely responsible for what Dvorak 64 lives they choose to live. This section of the myth allows him to perform an impressive balancing-act, both insisting ὁὀ thἷ fὄἷἷἶὁm ὁf humaὀὅ’ mὁὄal ἵhὁiἵἷὅ and addressing the real influences on moral choice, at once acknowledging the power of those influences and their ultimate powerlessness to determine moral choice.

Plato does not minimize the power of the cosmos surrounding human moral choices. By appropriating the image of Tartarus as a final punishment for the incurably immoral and including the Fates, he signals that his afterlife is as threatening and powerful as that portrayed by the poets. The Spindle of Necessity furthers the impression that humanity faces a cosmos greater than itself, one in which primordial Goddesses rule. The whorl of the Spindle is a model of the heavenly bodies, suggesting that humans are subject to fates and mechanisms that are far off and grander than the mundane matters they are used to. In these details, Plato reminds his readers that the systems behind their world is larger and more powerful than humanity. This extends even to moral choice. The Fates weave human lives once chosen, meaning that human choices, once made, are fixed in the fabric of the cosmos. Lachesis, representing the past, distributes lots that determine the order in which lives are chosen, and daimones fulfill those choices. Allegorically, this means that the past determines the fortune of the present, affecting how easily moral choices are made. The choices one makes in the present determine moral character, which is itself influenced by choices made in the past.

Yet despite the power and complexity of this system, Plato maintains that it can be understood by human reason. Though the past and fortune that result from it can restrict choice, there is still always the ability to shun evil and choose good. The universe is blameless and humans are responsible for their moral choices, and thus their own morality or immorality. By letting his readers choose their daimones, Plato implies that that moral character is bound to the Dvorak 65 choices of human agents. This is a statement of the freedom humans have in the afterlife and in mortal life. Just as they do in the afterlife, humans face moral choices on earth with many circumstances out of their control but maintain the ability to reason and choose. The choice of lives is not just a choice made once, but a choice made metaphorically with every decision that affects moral character.116

The Search for Philosophy and the Choices of Heroes

Socrates comments on the symmetry of choice of life in the afterlife and moral choices in mortal life in a passage which gives the moral of the false choice of the first soul. This soul lived in a well-ordered city, but was good in an unphilosophical way, and so chose the life of a tyrant who eats his own children. Socrates explains the moral of this false choice:

, , , έ , , , , , , , [] , , , , , ,

116 Adam 1963, 2:454 discusses the implications of this depiction of the choice of daimones in relation to past philosophical views. Dvorak 66

, , έ έ , , , , έ

There was no order of the soul [in the chaotic choices of lives], since by necessity another life creates another character. Everything of the lives were mixed up together, health and illness, wealth and poverty, all circumstances in between. And that, dear Glaucon, of all the hazards for human beings, is the greatest. It is this above all else we should study, neglecting every other study. This is the task: to find whoever will give the knowledge that enables one to diagnose both the worthwhile life and the toilsome, to choose from all conditions the best of what is ὂὁὅὅiἴlἷ, ὄἷἵkὁὀiὀg all ὁf what wἷ’vἷ ὅaiἶ ἴὁth tὁgἷthἷὄ aὀἶ aὂaὄt, hὁw ἴἷauty together with poverty or wealth affects the soul, what habits are good and evil for the soul, the effects of high and low birth, of private and public living, strength and weakness, wittiness and dullness, nature and nurture, to keep all this in mind and choose the best life while focusing on the nature of the soul, naming the life which leads to injustice worse and the life that leads to justice better. A person muὅt ἶiὅmiὅὅ all ὁthἷὄ faἵtὁὄὅ, aὅ wἷ’vἷ ὅaiἶέ ἡὀἷ muὅt ἵaὄὄy iὀtὁ ώaἶἷὅ aὀ adamantine faith, so that one is not dazzled by riches and other evils, does not fall upon tyrannies and other crimes, and suffers evils greater than one commits, so that one might choose the mean in life and flee from the excess in either direction, in this life and in life beyond this one. This is the greatest happiness for a human being. (Plat. R. 10.618b-619b.) Dvorak 67

The choice of lives and the knowledge that enables a person to choose well should be the greatest concern of humans. The chief goal should be to find the person who has knowledge of how to choose lives. While Socrates might claim ignorance as to who has this knowledge, the reader can easily take him, or Plato writing in his voice, to be this person. This possibility is furthered by a usual role of katabasis in myth, to find a person with important knowledge.117 As

ἦhayἷὄ aὄguἷὅ, “ἢlatὁ’ὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ, aὀἶ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ Eὄ, aὄἷ ὁuὄ mἷὅὅἷὀgἷὄὅ,” not just of what happens in the afterlife, but of the philosophical meaning of what happens there.118

Yet the souls portrayed in the myth utterly lack this knowledge, and their choices lead to a chaotic interchange of lives. Frightened of being punished, the vicious choose their lives carefully, but complacent from their rewards, the good choose carelessly. Like the first soul, others tend to blame the system of the Fates and the gods for their own bad choices. The philosopher, however, stands above other souls in two ways; he follows the lead of Er, he knows not to blame the divine or the cosmos as hostile, and he examines what matters in a life. This means the philosopher can choose well both in life and after death. He can differentiate between good and bad lives and tell how external circumstances like poverty and wealth, high and low

ἴiὄth, ὀatuὄal aὀἶ lἷaὄὀἷἶ tἷmὂἷὄamἷὀt, affἷἵt thἷ ὅὁul’ὅ ὅtὄugglἷ ἴἷtwἷἷὀ gὁὁἶ aὀἶ ἷvilέ ἦhἷ

ὂhilὁὅὁὂhἷὄ takἷὅ whatἷvἷὄ ἵiὄἵumὅtaὀἵἷὅ aὄἷ givἷὀ “iὀ lifἷ aὀἶ iὀ ἶἷathέ”119 This knowledge gives the soul its “aἶamaὀtiὀἷ faith” aὀἶ thἷ aἴility tὁ ὄἷὅiὅt thἷ tἷmὂtatiὁὀ ὁf livἷὅ that ὅἷἷm, ἴut are not, good.

117 χἷὀἷaὅ ἶἷὅἵἷὀἶὅ tὁ thἷ uὀἶἷὄwὁὄlἶ tὁ fiὀἶ hiὅ fathἷὄ’ὅ ὅhaἶἷ aὀἶ lἷaὄὀ aἴὁut thἷ futuὄἷ ὁf hiὅ ὂἷὁὂlἷ, aὀἶ Odysseus descends to find out how he can placate Poseidon from the shade of the prophet Tiὄἷὅiaὅέ Sἷἷ ἡ’ἑὁὀὀὁὄ ἀίίἅ fὁὄ aὀ aὀalyὅiὅ ὁf Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ὅimilaὄitiἷὅ tὁ ἦiὄἷὅiaὅέ 118 Thayer 1988, 371. 119 Plat. R. 10.619a. Dvorak 68

The bad choices of the good-citizen-turned-tyrant and those who come from the heavenly circuit somewhat imply that the ideal cities of the previous books of the Republic are failures from the outset. The way to teach people to choose better lives is not by choosing those lives for them. If this is done, people cannot, when they have to make their own moral choices, distinguish between what appears good and what is truly good. The special salvation of the philosophical wisdom described by Socrates lies in its individuality. It is not an education imposed upon the person who chooses their life, but an education sought out by that person. The

Myth ὁf Eὄ ὀὁt ὁὀly aὀὅwἷὄὅ χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt, ὀὁt ὁὀly ὄἷὅtὁὄἷὅ thἷ ἵὁὅmὁlὁgiἵal perspective of the Republic, but also turns the discussion of morality and ethics to the experience of the individual who desires to know what life is good, and what matters when choosing what life to lead.

This does not mean that Plato has no thoughts about public life and politics, but the Myth of Er turns away from this political perspective in a way that cannot be overlooked. The privacy and exclusivity of the indiviἶual’s moral life is not a theme that only appears in this part of the dialogue, but one that is ever present in the background of what is, in the foreground, a political work. As long as the Republic contrasts the interests of private citizens and the city as a whole, the question of whether a good life is private or public is one that floats over the dialogue—and

ἢlatὁ’ὅ wὁὄk aὅ a whὁlἷ—like a dark cloud. Are the guardians of Kallipolis happy if they cannot have families and private property? Are philosophers, who do not wish to rule, happy when they are kings? Who lives the better life; Socrates, who publicly interrogated his city and would not leave it even when it betrayed him, or Plato, who withdrew from politics to form a philosophical community of his own? Dvorak 69

χὀ ἷἵhὁ ὁf thiὅ ἵὁὀfliἵt ἵaὀ ἴἷ fὁuὀἶ iὀ thἷ mὁὄal thὁught ὁf ώὁmἷὄ, aὀἶ iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ thoughts about poetry itself. The central conflict of the Iliad is the dynamic between the needs of the Greek army and the private indignation of Achilles, and Plato is working through a similar conflict between the moral needs of the individual and the common good of the city. A parallel issue is the battle between poetry, which focuses on the particular and individual, and philosophy, which turns to the universal. The Myth of Er does not end in a philosophical solution to the problem of how to choose a life worth living, but rather, Plato offers a parade of heroes making their own choices, role models that represent the dynamics of private moral thought better than can an abstract theory of moral choice. A philosophical attitude might be what is necessary to live a good life, but it is literature that can create characters the reader can identify with. As heroes choose their lives, the reader chooses which of them to admire.

The significance of these heroes and the lives they choose depends on the literary tradition before Plato, and activates in the reader the thoughts and reactions that the poets have developed. The heroes represent lives that have been lived in the past that the reader may choose from, just as the lives are provided to souls in the Lottery are provided by Lachesis, fate of the past. As the souls choose their lives, the reader sees the lives of these heroes, and can decide which of them is worth living, and worth admiring. I will note now, and develop later, the idea that ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄὅ ὅimilaὄly ὄἷὂὄἷὅἷὀt tyὂἷὅ ὁf livἷὅ with whiἵh tὁ iἶἷὀtity, makiὀg thἷ

Republic itself a reflective katabasis that fulfills the same function as the Myth of Er.

The heroes in the Lottery of Lives fall into three broad categories—those who choose the lives of animals, those who choose the lives of certain professionals, and the lonely category of

Odysseus, who chooses the life of a private citizen. These categories represent different mindsets regarding moral choice. The heroes reveal something about the way they think about moral Dvorak 70 choice based on the lives they choose and the way they choose those lives, and because each has a history in poetry, the reader has a tripled perspective on their attitudes, formed by who they are in poetry, by how they choose their lives, and by what lives they choose to lead next. The reader, unlike the souls choosing, has a perspective including the past, present, and future.

The first class of heroes, who choose the lives of animals, choose their lives apparently from a place of emotion. The poets Orpheus and Thamyris choose the lives of birds,120 creatures which are naturally singers of songs. They do this out of resentment. Orpheus becomes a swan because of his hatred for women; by becoming a bird, he would not need to be born from a woman, but from an egg. Thamyris, who lost a competition with the Muses,121 becomes a nightingale to spite them and sing his own songs.122 (This is something like the false poets of the

Phaedrus, who for offending the Muses, are transformed into cicadas.123) Poets are not the only

ὁὀἷὅ whὁ ἴἷἵὁmἷ aὀimalὅν χjax, ὅtill uὂὅἷt ἴy thἷ ἶἷἵiὅiὁὀ tὁ givἷ χἵhillἷὅ’ aὄmὅ tὁ ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ, becomes a lion, a beast that needs no weapons or armor to fight. Agamemnon becomes an eagle, so he can soar above the humans he hates. Thersites, a buffoon and the object of scorn for

Odysseus and many of the Achaeans,124 becomes an ape.125

In each of these cases, the hero becomes an animal that reflects some aspect of their character because of some emotional holdover from his last life. Out of hatred, Orpheus and

Agamemnon choose to become animals that are apart from humans. Because Thamyris values only poetry, at which he was bested, and Ajax only military prowess, the reward for which he did not win, they reduce themselves to one-dimensional lives, marked not by the multi-faceted

120 Plat. R. 10.620a. 121 Hom. Il. 2.595. 122 Plat. R. 10.620a. 123 Plat. Phaedrus 259b-e. 124 Hom. Il. 2.212. 125 Plat. R. 10.620b-c. Dvorak 71 potential of human reason, but by singular and emotional attachment to their pasts, an avarice for what honor they did not win. Thersites provides a final proof of the folly of these emotional choices. Because he is a fool in his life, he chooses the life of an ape, a being that merely

ὄἷὅἷmἴlἷὅ a humaὀ, whilἷ laἵkiὀg humaὀity’ὅ highἷὄ fuὀἵtiὁὀὅέ ἦhἷ ὁthἷὄ hἷὄὁἷὅ iὀ thiὅ class, though they may choose more majestic creatures, are in effect as foolish as Thersites.

Allegorically, the heroes who become animals symbolize the moral choices of people ruled by the emotions. These choices are emotional choices, and they lead to animalistic lives. They may not be made out of physical appetite or vulgar greed, but they are made from a lack of rational philosophical distance and analysis.

The second class of heroes choose the lives of professionals. Atalanta tempted by the honors bestowed upon a male athlete, chooses that life, and Epieus, the builder of the Trojan horse, becomes a craftswoman.126 In both of these cases, the heroes choose lives less glamorous than their previous ones, yet maintain the activity that matters to them. Out of love of honor and athletics, Atalanta chooses the life of an athlete, and out of love of crafting, Epieus becomes a craftsperson. The implication seems to be that these people are guided by what they love. This may not lead them to become philosopher, but it does guide their choices better than resentment guides the heroes that become animals. These heroes, more than the others, are focusing on the actual content of the lives they choose, their essential, rather than their incidental, features. So while Atalanta and Epieus choose lives their souls are drawn to, the other heroes choose lives that allow them to avoid external situations or circumstances they find loathsome. Those who

126 Plat. R. 10.620b-c. Dvorak 72 choose based on what truly pertains to the soul remain human, while those ruled by consideration of external circumstances are reduced to animals.127

The Choice of Odysseus: Katabasis as Allegory for Moral Thought

The final choice is that of Odysseus, and this choice deserves the most analysis. This is not only because he chooses differently than any other soul depicted, but also because the Myth of Er and the rest of the Republic contains many allusions to him. Odysseus ends both the myth and the dialogue with his choice, and his presence throughout the dialogue highlights the themes of the

Odyssey that Plato adopts and adapts to suit his own purposes. First I will consider how

Odysseus makes his choice, showing that, though similar to Atalanta and Epieus, he is more complex in his moral thinking. I will then examine the meaning of this choice in the context of the Republic and Socrates, before finally turning to what the choice means for the philosophical reader of the Myth of Er. ἢlatὁ iὀἵluἶἷὅ ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ ἵhὁiἵἷ ἴὁth tὁ ἵὁmὂlἷtἷ thἷ thἷmἷ ὁf ἵhὁiἵἷ- of-life in his own dialogue and in the Homeric tradition. Showing Odysseus as the ultimate hero of the myth, greatly shapes how Plato invites his readers to think of philosophy and moral thinking by activating this poetic theme.

χftἷὄ thἷ ἵhaὁὅ ὁf thἷ ὁthἷὄ ὅὁulὅ’ ἵhὁiἵἷὅμ

127 I want to quickly note that Atalanta and Epieus are the only examples of heroes switching genders. The implications of this are complicated. Whether this means men and women have essentially the same souls is debatable. I would suggest, though, that Plato means this inclusion of a heroine choosing a male life and the choice of a female life by a hero to indicate the essentially universal power of love in moral thinking. Where politics, because Athenian political life is entirely male, is limited to the choices and thoughts of men, the moral life of the individual is a something all humans share, both male and female. Love in particular highlights the moral equality of men and women, as is already indicated in poetry. In the Odyssey, both Odysseus and Penelope are heroes because thἷy faἵἷ ὅimilaὄ mὁὄal ἵhὁiἵἷὅ mὁtivatἷἶ ἴy lὁvἷ, aὀἶ thἷy aὄἷ ἵallἷἶ “likἷ-miὀἶἷἶέ” ἦhἷ Symposium features a fἷmalἷ tἷaἵhἷὄ ὂὄὁviἶiὀg thἷ ὅuἴὅtaὀἵἷ ὁf Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ ὅὂἷἷἵhέ χὅ thἷ ἵatalὁguἷ ὁf hἷὄὁἷὅ mὁvἷὅ away fὄὁm the warlike heroes of the Iliad toward the ultimate domestic hero, Odysseus, this overture toward the equality of men aὀἶ wὁmἷὀ ἵὁulἶ mἷaὀ tὁ aἵtivatἷ thἷὅἷ thἷmἷὅ ἴὁth iὀ ἷaὄliἷὄ ὂὁἷtὄy aὀἶ iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὁwὀ wὄitiὀgέ δὁvἷ iὅ what makes all humans alike, when they think about morality as humans, and not as animals. Philosophy, then, is a mindset that is inherently more universal than the particular hatreds of the animal heroes. Dvorak 73

, , , , έ

By chance, Odysseus had the last lot and made the last choice. Having set aside his love of honor due to his memory of former pains, he walked about for a long time looking for the life of a man free from public affairs, and with difficulty found one laid to the side and disregarded by the others. He said he would have passed over the others even had he been the first to choose, and chose that life gladly. (Plat. R. 10.620c-d.)

Odysseus does not make his choice impulsively, based on resentment or emotion, nor based on his love for some craft or activity. He takes a long time making his choice, hurried neither by hatred nor by a love of honor. He finally selects the peaceful life of a private citizen. At first, this choice seems almost anti-climactic. Why is the final choice not the life of a philosopher?

But this is to forget that the person telling the myth is not a philosopher, though he has a detached and rational temperament. Er, no less than Odysseus, is without philosophical training, yet still demonstrates a philosophical attitude. Both figures are able to think rationally, with distance from the chaos that surrounds them. And for both heroes, this enables knowledge of the divine aὀἶ ἷxὂἷὄiἷὀἵἷ ὁf thiὀgὅ ἴἷyὁὀἶ mὁὄtal lifἷέ Eὄ’ὅ kataἴaὅiὅ iὅ ἵlὁὅἷly mὁἶἷllἷἶ ὁὀ

ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’, aὀἶ ἢlatὁ alluἶἷὅ ἶiὄἷἵtly tὁ thἷ ὅimilaὄitiἷὅ ὁf the myths when he has Socrates

ὄἷfἷὄἷὀἵἷ thἷ “talἷὅ ὁf χlἵiὀὁuὅ,” ἷvἷὀ if hἷ alὅὁ ὅayὅ that thἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ iὅ ὀot one of these tales. Odysseus journeys to the underworld, speaks with the shades there and witnesses their punishments, just as does Er. Odysseus, like Er, hears the music of the Sirens. And in an important way, Odysseus considers the moral choice-of-life in the same way Socrates says is Dvorak 74 taught by the myth, not with philosophical training, but with a philosophical temperament, and a philosophical desire to find truth and good, rather than the appearance of those things.

ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ ἵhὁiἵἷ iὀ thἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ is one of a line of choices of lives that begins, in

Homer, with Achilles.128 In the Iliadic tradition, Achilles has a choice between a fameless life of peace and a remembered life of war, between kleos and nostos.129 Achilles chooses kleos, and so dies young in war. Yet in the katabasis of the Odyssey, Achilles tells Odysseus that he regrets his choice. Life, even without fame, would be preferable to death.130

ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ jὁuὄὀἷy tὁ thἷ uὀἶἷὄwὁὄlἶ iὅ, iὄὁὀiἵally, thἷ ὐἷὀith ὁf hiὅ mὁὄal ἷἶuἵatiὁὀέ

Here, Odysseus is able to reflect on what he has missed by being away from home, the misfortunes he has avoided and his good luck in having Penelope as a wife. And in speaking with the shade of Achilles, he is able to analyze, from a distance, the choices he could make in his own life. By questioning Achilles, he is able to avoid his mistakes, and he lives his life more wisely. The katabasis is itself an allegory of moral progress and education. He demonstrates, through his katabasis and later choice-of-life, that it is poὅὅiἴlἷ tὁ ὄἷflἷἵt thὄὁugh ὄἷaὅὁὀ ὁὀ ὁὀἷ’ὅ moral choices, and that one can, in this way, avoid the past mistakes of others and do better than them. One can, through making progress on moral thinking in life, practice the wisdom of the dead.

128 χὅ maὀy ἵὄitiἵὅ ὀὁtἷ, χἵhillἷὅ iὅ aἴὅἷὀt fὄὁm thἷ εyth ὁf Eὄέ ἡ’ἑὁὀὀὁὄ ἀίίἅ aὄgues that this is a criticism of Achilles as unworthy of admiration, and that Odysseus is promoted as a better moral role model. I would argue that the exclusion of Achilles is mἷaὀt lἷὅὅ aὅ a ἵὄitiἵiὅm ὁf him aὀἶ mὁὄἷ aὅ a ὅtὄatἷgy that highlight’ὅ ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ ἵἷὀtὄal role and his opportunity to give his wisdom from the underworld to Er who witnesses him, taking up the role Odysseus had in relation to Achilles. Bloom 1991 provides an interpretation that is critical of Achilles but has a more tempered conclusiὁὀ thaὀ ἡ’ἑὁὀὀὁὄμ “ἦhἷ kἷy tὁ Eὄ’ὅ aἵἵὁuὀt ὁf hiὅ viὅit tὁ thἷ ὁthἷὄ wὁὄlἶ iὅ thἷ aἴὅἷὀἵἷ ὁf χἵhillἷὅ…έ χἵhillἷὅ ὀὁ lὁὀgἷὄ ἷxiὅtὅ, alivἷ ὁὄ ἶἷaἶ, iὀ…thἷ ὀἷw Sὁἵὄatiἵ wὁὄlἶ…έIὀ [the choice of Odysseus] Socrates also gets his inspiration from Homer, and thus hἷ lἷtὅ uὅ kὀὁw that thἷὄἷ may ἴἷ aὀὁthἷὄ ὅiἶἷ tὁ ώὁmἷὄ’ὅ ὂὁἷtὄy thaὀ that whiἵh thἷ tὄaἶitiὁὀ haὅ ὂὁὂulaὄiὐἷἶ” ΧἂἁἄΨέ εy ὄἷaἶiὀg fiὀἶὅ χἵhillἷὅ lἷὅὅ ἵἷὀtὄal tὁ thἷ mἷaὀiὀg ὁf thἷ εyth ὁf Eὄ, ἴut I aὄguἷ that thiὅ “ὁthἷὄ ὅiἶἷ” tὁ ώὁmἷὄ iὅ ὂὄἷfiguὄἷἶ iὀ the Odyssey already, and is further developed by Plato. 129 Hom. Il. 9.413. 130 Hom. Od. 11.487-491. Dvorak 75

Odysseus makes his choice when he chooses to leave the island of Calypso, rejecting her offer of immortality.131 ἦhiὅ ὄἷjἷἵtiὁὀ iὅ ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ ἵhὁiἵἷ ὁf lifἷ, accepting the struggle of navigating a world of strife to have what is truly worthwhile. As Howland writes, “[a]lthough

ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ…ἷffἷἵtivἷly ἵhὁὁὅἷὅ ὂhyὅiἵal ἶἷath, thἷὄἷ iὅ a ὅἷὀὅἷ iὀ whiἵh hἷ wiὀὅ hiὅ lifἷ ὁὄ ὅὁul by rejecting a life that is not worth liviὀgέ”132 He is able to make the right choice to return home to what he loves because his journey has allowed him to reflect on his moral choices.

If, in the Myth of Er, Odysseus takes his time choosing his next life, it is not just because he is a well-known hero. Rather, it is because, in thinking critically about which lives are worth living, Odysseus knows how to choose such a life. The choice represents something about the

Lottery of Lives and the whole system of the Myth of Er that has, until now, been missing. This is the idea that moral progress is possible. Orpheus and Thamyris choose lives devoted to imitation, Ajax and Agamemnon choose lives based on their resentments, and Atalanta and

Ereius choose lives merely continuing their favorite activities. Only Odysseus chooses to live a life that is definitely better than his previous one.

The choice in the myth echoes ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ ὅtὄugglἷ in the Odyssey to achieve a peaceful homecoming. The Myth of Er shows that the cosmos is not hostile, and that by using reason to make moral choices, it is possible to escape the chaos of moral confusion. The final image of

ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’ ἵhoice shows that this is done to a concrete end, and that, if the life is chosen carefully, it is possible to find peace and place in the cosmos.133 This resolves the struggle

Achilles faces in the Iliad, and provides Odysseus with greater peace than Homer does. Plato

131 Hom. Od. 5.136. 132 Howland 2004, 48. 133 Sἷἷ ώὁwlaὀἶ ἀίίἂ, ἂκμ “ἢὄiὁὄ tὁ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhizing, Plato implies, the soul, like Odysseus, is somehow in exile, a waὀἶἷὄἷὄ…έ ἢhilὁὅὁὂhy, iὀ tuὄὀ, attἷmὂtὅ a kiὀἶ ὁf ‘hὁmἷἵὁmiὀg’ fὁὄ humaὀ ἴἷiὀgὅ—not a literal, physical hὁmἷἵὁmiὀg ἴut a mἷtaὂhyὅiἵal hὁmἷἵὁmiὀg ὁf thἷ ὅὁulέ” Dvorak 76 makes it clear that kleos is not the point of life, while a cosmic nostos is worthwhile. It is an escape from the moral confusion most mortals face. It is philosophy that allows people to make moral choices well, and thus to achieve the metaphorical homecoming of a peaceful private life, and it is philosophy that achieves reprieve for Odysseus from a cycle of conflict and struggle.

There is a comparison to be made between Odysseus and Socrates, not just because, as the end of the myth approaches, it is these two the reader is left to consider, but also because

Plato alludes to their similarities several times in the Republic. The first word of the dialogue is

“I wἷὀt ἶὁwὀ” Χ“”Ψ, the same word Odysseus uses to begin describing his journey to the underworld to Penelope.134 By constructing imaginary cities and examining the souls which live in and exemplify those cities, Socrates sees many cities and minds of many men, just like

Odysseus.135 The opening of the Republic, in which Socrates is prevented by force from going home, suggests a similarity to Odysseus, prevented by force from achieving his homecoming.

ἦhiὅ hὁmἷἵὁmiὀg iὅ ὀὁt, likἷ ἡἶyὅὅἷuὅ’, a litἷὄal hὁmἷἵὁmiὀg, ἴut iὅ a metaphorical one.

The image reaches a final poignancy for Socrates at the end of the Myth of Er. Having chosen their lives, the souls drink from the River of Forgetfulness, the philosophic souls less than the others, and shoot off like stars to their new livἷὅέ “ἦhuὅ,” ὅayὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ, “waὅ thἷ myth ὅavἷἶέ”

By remembering it, we may live better lives.136 Thy dynamics here of memory and philosophy relate to how myth has a unique function of allowing truths to be remembered over time. That

Eὄ’ὅ εyth iὅ ὅavἷἶ iὅ proof that it corresponds to the truth, that it is thus an authentic myth which

Plato creates to embody part of his philosophy. Because the Myth of Er appropriates Homeric and Hesiodic mythological features, it seems too that the myth saves and justifies mythology

134 Hom. Od. 23.250. 135 Hom. Od. 1.3. 136 Plat. R. 10.621d. Dvorak 77 generally, by showing that some myths can be told and even allegorically interpreted, as Socrates does for the Myth of Er, so long as the myths are not false.

The last image of the myth is that of souls as stars. The transformation of souls to quasi- celestial entities suggests that in spite of human moral confusion, mortal beings retain enough divinity to still have a place in the cosmos, a place we might permanently reclaim through philosophy.137 Yet the image of souls as shooting stars also has a more mundane meaning, as a parallel to the torchlight relay Socrates wished to see in the first pages of the Republic.138

ἦhὁugh Sὁἵὄatἷὅ waὅ tὄyiὀg tὁ ὄἷtuὄὀ fὄὁm “gὁiὀg-ἶὁwὀ” tὁ thἷ ἢiὄaἷuὅ, aὀἶ waὅ ὅtὁὂὂἷἶ ἴy

Polemarchus, he is able, by the end of the Republic, to ascend to an image of the cosmos. While he was stopped near the Piraeus in the evening, the dialogue ends with Er waking at dawn.139

And while Socrates does not see the torchlight race with its relays and trophies, he describes in the Myth of Er a grander cycle of reincarnated souls, the rewards of the afterlife, and the sight of souls like stars in the sky. Though stopped by force, Socrates has, through a marathon of philosophical discussion, reached home and sees what he wished to see.

The Lottery of Lives is an allegory for the moral choices made everyday by humans, and the clarity philosophy brings to those who think philosophically and are not ruled by emotional urges or a misguided focus on the incidental parts of life. The Myth of Er as a whole reminds its readers to focus on what matters, the soul itself and what is good for the soul. The myth does not give a description of what that ideal life is, but it makes clear that philosophy is how that life can be found, and that the greatest concern for humans must be to find the people and role models who can impart the philosophical attitude and wisdom necessary to choose well. Because the

137 Cf the Phaedrus, whἷὄἷ humaὀ ὅὁulὅ, ὁὀἵἷ thἷy’vἷ transcended mortal life, may ride alongside the chariots of the Gods. 138 Plat. R. 1.328a. 139 Plat. R. 10.621b. Dvorak 78 universe is open to reason, humans are able to search for this wisdom without interference from the divine. And because the myth reflects this cosmos through its architecture and hero, it can assist in that search.

The Myth of Er is ultimately a tool to help in the search for understanding how to choose how to live. While the tales of Alcinous are stories of a world of chaos, of thwarted homecoming and peril, the stories told by a hero trying to make sense of his life, this myth is the story of an ordered cosmos, of a homecoming that awaits all souls. It is a story that helps its readers make sense of their own lives, a myth that presents the particular choices of heroes in a universal framework. It is a tale like the stories of the Odyssey, and it does the same things as those stories, showing a world that is different from the everyday, that introduces a degree of difference the reader must bridge to discover something useful. But while the tales of Alcinous are the particulars of confusion that impart the universal of longing and pain, the Myth of Er is the particular of order that imparts the universal of reflection. It is myth made into a tool for moral thinking and an environment for ethical analysis.

And in this way, all of Platὁ’ὅ ἶialὁguἷὅ ἶὁ thἷ ὅamἷ aὅ thἷ εyth ὁf Eὄν all ὁf ἢlatὁ iὅ katabasis. Katabases are opportunities to think about what makes life worth choosing, and worth living. Odysseus has only a moment to reflect on his life, during his katabasis. Other than during this journey, he cannot reflect or detach himself from the plot of his epic, until he reaches home.

The myth, similarly, is the opportunity to escape the decay of the political world, to reflect philosophically on the choice-of-life and take the characters presented as a series of possible livἷὅ tὁ ἴἷ aὀalyὐἷἶ, wἷighἷἶ, aὀἶ juἶgἷἶ ἵhὁiἵἷwὁὄthy ὁὄ ὀὁtέ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἶialὁguἷὅ aὄἷ a kataἴaὅiὅ that does not have to end, a reflection that is never interrupted. Odysseus can ask the shades he meets for their advice, and can reflect on their lives to make better choices for himself. Socrates, Dvorak 79

Glaucon, Adeimantus, Cephalus, and all the characters of Plato show their moral perspectives and live out their lives, and while they make their own moral choices, the readers analyze these characters and decide if their lives are worth living. Whἷὀ wἷ ὄἷaἶ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἶialὁguἷὅ, wἷ all practice our own katabases, enteriὀg thἷ uὀἶἷὄwὁὄlἶ that iὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ χthἷὀὅ, a wὁὄlἶ ὁf thἷ dead, the past presenting itself for analysis. Just as Odysseus questions Achilles, the reader

ὃuἷὅtiὁὀὅ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ἵhaὄaἵtἷὄὅέ χὅ ἡ’ἑὁὀὀὁὄ ὀὁtἷὅ, “iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ haὀἶὅ, Sὁἵὄatἷὅ aὀἶ thἷ ὄἷὅt aὄἷ ὀὁ longer just individuals. They become representatives and exemplars of human possibilities as

ὅuἵhέ”140

We can look at the life of Cephalus and be fooled, at first, by the appearance of security it presents. On closer examination, we might discover the tragedy that awaits his family and realize that a good life without philosophy can be filled with misfortune, with no way to defend against itέ Wἷ ἵaὀ iὀtἷὄὄὁgatἷ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ fὁἵuὅ ὁὀ fὁὄtuὀἷ, ὄἷἵὁgὀitiὁὀ, aὀἶ ἷxtἷὄὀal ὄἷwaὄἶ tὁ ὅἷἷ if a love of honor can be cured by reversing the order of the cosmos, and we might find that he is as confused in what he asks for from Socrates as are the heroes choosing to become animals to avoid the things they hate and fear. A life that is good by removing the things one immoderately desires is no better than the life of an eagle chosen because one hates humanity. Is Adeimantus thinking about morality and life better by focusing on fear of being evil, by hoping to become his own best guardian? By electing to share his values, by, in a sense, choosing his moral life, can we live good lives supported by philosophy?

More importantly to the concerns of the Republic as a whole, is the detached tἷmὂἷὄamἷὀt ὁf a maὀ likἷ Eὄ ὅuffiἵiἷὀt tὁ livἷ a gὁὁἶ lifἷ, ὁὄ iὅ it aὅ “withὁut ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy” aὅ the lives of Cephalus and Odysseus? Or is philosophical training more important than their detached

140 ἡ’ἑὁὀὀὁὄ ἀίίἅ, ἃἃ-56. Dvorak 80 attitude and moral character? Is the life of Socrates choiceworthy when it ends with an unjust execution? Would any of these characters, given the choice, choose different lives? Will

Socrates, for his next life, choose again a life where he can ask questions and search for wisdom?

While these are the questions of philosophy, it is myth, poetry, literature that allows the reader to ask these questions, and to feel that they are important. Katabasis, and the Myth of Er which portrays it, allows the moral imagination to exercise itself, and it is the way we can search for the person who can tell us what life is best to lead. As we make the moral choices every day, we are making the choice-of-life that is shown singularly in the myth. And it is myth itself that helps us fare well, myth that helps us find a life that matters, and myth that gives us adamantine faith in the goodness of a strong man like Er or Socrates, a goodness that makes their lives worth choosing. Dvorak 81

ἑὁὀἵluὅiὁὀμ “ἦhἷ εyth Waὅ ἠὁt δὁὅt”

My reading has addressed the three central interpretive problems of the Myth of Er. The myth is consistent with the Republicν it ὄἷὅὂὁὀἶὅ tὁ ἕlauἵὁὀ’ὅ ἑhallἷὀgἷ, χἶἷimaὀtuὅ’ ἤἷὃuἷὅt, aὀἶ

ἑἷὂhaluὅ’ fἷaὄ ἴy ὅhὁwiὀg thἷ aἵtual ἶaὀgἷὄ ὁf thἷ aftἷὄlifἷ, that ὁὀἷ might ἵhὁὁὅἷ thἷ ὀἷxt life badly. It has a coherent philosophical meaning, revealed by both the characters it portrays and the setting that they traverse; the cosmos, according to the myth, is non-hostile and ordered, and the best way to maneuver it is through a controlled detachment that philosophy can help one achieve. The myth is inspired by Homer and Hesiod, both in its imagery and themes; it does not simply react to previous myths, but rather adapts them and completes them, providing characters and conflicts a resolution that iὅ laἵkiὀg iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂὁἷtiἵ ὂὄἷἶἷἵἷὅὅὁὄὅέ

The myth is not, in this allegorical and literary reading, a surprising, non-philosophical, or anti-poetic conclusion to the dialogue. It is, rather, an ending which complements early questions and themes of the Republic, which adds a cosmological perspective to a dialogue fὁἵuὅἷἶ ὁὀ thἷ ὂὁlitiἵal, aὀἶ a fittiὀg ἶἷmὁὀὅtὄatiὁὀ ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ litἷὄaὄy ὂὄὁjἷἵt. The myth is not a mere reaction to Homer, but a new step in the development of myth, poetry, and literature. It is not a tale of Alcinous, but a tale befitting the strongest hero Plato can offer, the truly strong

Socrates. The opportunity for reflection and moral thinking that is provided by katabasis in poetry is ever-present in Plato because his dialogues constantly provide what it offered only occasionally in past authors; the chance to interrogate the dead and attempt to understand characters who repὄἷὅἷὀt wayὅ thἷ ὄἷaἶἷὄ ἵaὀ livἷ lifἷέ Juὅt aὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ Eὄ allὁwὅ thὁὅἷ whὁ know his myth to better appreciate the importance of moral deliberation and the choice-of-life,

ἢlatὁ’ὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ thὄὁugh hiὅ ἶialὁguἷὅ allὁwὅ ὄἷaἶἷὄὅ tὁ ἵὁὀtἷmὂlatἷ what makἷὅ a life worth choosing and a person worth emulating and remembering. Dvorak 82

This reading of the Myth of Er suggests several directions for further research. I will

ἶiὅἵuὅὅ ἴὄiἷfly itὅ imὂliἵatiὁὀὅ ὁὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂὁlitiἵal thἷὁὄy, the role of myth in the dialogues, and what this reading suggests about the literary analysis of Plato generally.

A purely political reading of the Republic finds it to be a work that builds in speech several ideal cities, in an attempt both to suggest real possibilities for political reform and to understand how cities work in the real world. The Myth of Er, insofar as it indicates that the private life, not the public, is the source of moral improvement and moral philosophy, creates difficulties for this reading. If a good city does not guarantee a good choice-of-life for the souls that live in that city, then the political sphere does not seem to impact the morality of its citizens in any lasting way. We can wonder, then, how important the political theories of the Republic are tὁ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁphy as a whole, and what role they play. Further research might examine

ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὁthἷὄ ἶialὁguἷὅ concerned with political philosophy, including the Statesman and the

Laws, to see if these dialogues share the same ambivalence toward political theory as a tool for understanding moral life. One might also more closely examine the rest of the Republic, examining how the political theories and ideal cities are presented, to see if Socrates indicates at all that these cities will make individual citizens more virtuous, or to see if the dialogue is more focused as a whole on understanding the soul, with the city used mostly as an analogy. Research iὀtὁ ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂὁlitiἵal ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy aὅ it iὅ ὂὁὄtὄayἷἶ iὀ ἶiffἷὄἷὀt ὂaὄtὅ ὁf hiὅ ἵὁὄὂuὅ iὅ ἷὅὅἷὀtial tὁ understanding his political philosophy, the role he has had in the history of political theory, and the meaning of the Republic whether it is a work of utopianism or an ironic demonstration of the insufficiency of the political to address the ethical.

More research is requiὄἷἶ ὁὀ thἷ ὄὁlἷ ὁf myth iὀ ἢlatὁ’ὅ wὄitiὀgέ Iὀ my ἵhaὂtἷὄ ὁὀ thἷ

Spindle ὁf ἠἷἵἷὅὅity, I aὄguἷἶ that ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅ ἵaὀ havἷ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal mἷaὀiὀgὅ aὅ lὁὀg aὅ Dvorak 83 they present a cosmos open to reason that relates to human life and can provide wisdom relevant to humanity. In addition, I suggested that the way myths are introduced, the comments Socrates gives about the myth, and the subject matter that leads to the myths can all be taken as indication of their philosophical meanings. A more systematic study of Platὁ’ὅ mythὅ iὅ ὀἷἷἶἷἶ tὁ demonstrate this point. This study would need to iὀἵluἶἷ all ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ mythὅ, aὀἶ ὂὄὁἴaἴly thὁὅἷ stories which, though not called myths, still share characteristics with his myths, for example the

Allegory of the Cave. Comparing how these myths are framed, how they portray the cosmos, and the commentary that Socrates provides, would reveal more completely how Plato uses myth to support or supplement his philosophical points, and might even show how the contexts of different dialogues change the content of the myths themselves. Learning about the role of myth in Plato is an important part of how we understand him as an author and would be influential in how the more supernatural elements of his world are interpreted. Perhaps the theurgic and daimonic beliefs of some Neoplatonists would even appear, with this research, to be prefigured aὀἶ ἵὁmὂatiἴlἷ with ἢlatὁ’ὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhy aὅ ὂὄἷὅἷὀtἷἶ iὀ hiὅ ἶialὁguἷὅέ

Finally, research remains to be done on how Plato engages with previous authors and how he uses literature to make philosophical points. This is, of course, a broader project than those suggested above. In philosophy, the appearance of roads as metaphor for moral life suggests similarities between Plato and Parmenides, as well as some allusion to the religious

ἷthiἵὅ ὁf ώἷὅiὁἶέ ἢὁἷtiἵally, ἢlatὁ’ὅ alluὅiὁὀ to and appropriation of Homeric themes, imagery, and characters indicates a more complex relationship than what Brisson suggests. He does not seem to simply compete with Homer to replace poetry with philosophy, but has a relationship that depends on Homer to give his poetic imagery power. The influence of these previous Dvorak 84 writers, though difficult to ever fully explicate, would be a good start to reading Plato more literarily.

Reading Platὁ’ὅ ἶialὁguἷὅ aὅ litἷὄatuὄἷ iὅ ὀὁt a ὀἷw iἶἷa, ἴut thiὅ ὂὄὁjἷἵt haὅ aimἷd to show how one part of his writing that can seem disconnected, philosophically meaningless, and bluntly critical of literature, can take on a new meaning by allegorical interpretation and literary analysis. The Myth of Er has clear meaning when read under these lenses, and this suggests that other parts of Plato can be similarly clarified. The literary parts of Plato cannot be separated from hiὅ ὂhilὁὅὁὂhiἵal mἷὅὅagἷὅέ ἤathἷὄ, ἢlatὁ’s literature is his message, whether in its arguments or in his characters, settings, and imagery. His myths and digressions, the structures of his dialogues as a whole, reveal a ὂἷὄὅὂἷἵtivἷ aὅ ἷὀἵὁmὂaὅὅiὀg aὅ Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’, if ὀὁt mὁὄἷ ὅὁέ ἢlatὁ iὀἵluἶἷὅ these elements in his writing, and they deserve analysis and attention.

The myth is a demonstration of how literature can help its readers live better, more philosophical lives. It is by remembering the myth that we can live well and save ourselves from a life without reason, and it is by retelling and remembering the myth that the myth itself

ὅuὄvivἷὅέ χὅ ἦhayἷὄ ὀὁtἷὅ, “[thἷ myth] iὅ ὅavἷἶ ἴy Sὁἵὄatἷὅ ὄἷtἷlliὀg Eὄ’ὅ ὅtὁὄyέ If it iὅ ὀὁt tὁlἶ aὀἶ ὄἷmἷmἴἷὄἷἶ, it ὂἷὄiὅhἷὅέ ἦhἷ tἷlliὀg ὁf it iὅ itὅ ‘lifἷέ’ Eaἵh time it is told (or read) it comes to life—aὅ Eὄ himὅἷlf aὀἶ thἷ ὅὁulὅ hἷ haἶ ὅἷἷὀ ὄἷtuὄὀ fὄὁm ἶἷath tὁ lifἷέ”141 The myth survives through being told, and the world of Sὁἵὄatἷὅ’ χthἷὀὅ ὅuὄvivἷὅ, ὀὁt thὄὁugh a ὅyὅtἷmatiἵ aὀalyὅiὅ

ὁf ἢlatὁ’ὅ aὄgumἷὀtὅ, ἴut thὄὁugh being read. Socrates, Glaucon, Adeimantus, and Cephalus live their next lives through our reading of themέ ἢlatὁ’ὅ wὄitiὀgὅ givἷ thἷm a ὀἷw lifἷ, aὀἶ ὅavἷ thἷm from being lost, and it is by reading Plato as an author that we help his characters and his world live on. By reading him as an author, we can learn from his character and do as well as the myth.

141 Thayer, 369. Dvorak 85

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