Recent scholarship on Plato's Cratylus (= Cra.) has yielded interpretations that assign various functions of philosophical importance to the dialogue's lengthy etymological section.Footnote 1 Barney (2001)Footnote 2 considers the section an ‘agonistic display’ (69–73) in which Socrates beats contemporary practitioners of etymology at their own gameFootnote 3 while, at the same time, offering a cosmological theory intended for serious intellectual competition. In this context, Barney emphasizes the importance of Parmenides, a charioteer who journeys towards Truth, as a literary point of reference for Socrates’ own etymological quest after the true meaning of names which, from Cratylus’ naturalist perspective on language, are considered indicative of their referents’ essential nature. The contents of the etymologies may be a ‘rational reconstruction’ (52–7) of Cratylus’ linguistic naturalism. Sedley (2003)Footnote 4 stresses the encyclopedic character of Socrates’ lexical interpretationsFootnote 5 and argues that these are ‘exegetically correct’ (28) in representing the opinions of the name-givers of old who subscribed to a Heraclitean view of a world in flux, as is reflected in the original form of the names they devised. Ademollo (2011) stresses that Socrates’ etymologies display the evolution of Greek intellectual thought, shown to be heavily reliant on the assumption of a universe in flux, and serve to exhibit the weaknesses in Cratylus’ naturalist view of language.Footnote 6
Despite the significance of the Cratylean etymologies for the dialogue as a whole, it is not controversial to observe that Socrates’ interpretations must not be taken to yield an exhaustive and reliable explanatory account of being of the sort Plato would have endorsed.Footnote 7 Thus Plato appears to undermine the credibility of Socrates’ performance as an etymologist by ensuring that Socrates ostensibly relies not on his own skill and knowledge but on the inspiration (ἐπίπνοια, 399a1–3) of Euthyphro. This Euthyphro is usually assumed to be the same person as in Plato's eponymous dialogue, a religious devotee who claims privileged knowledge of the divine.Footnote 8 Euthyphro's influence is taken by the majority of interpreters as a negative pointer; at best, it may distance Socrates from the contents and practice of his own exegetical performance.Footnote 9
My aim in the present contribution is to draw attention to three passages in the dialogue the implications of which have, thus far, not been appreciated to the full, but corroborate specific interpretative views on the dialogue's etymological section. The first passage I propose for discussion, Cra. 407d8–9, substantiates the view that Euthyphro's inspiration is deceptive and aimed at distancing Socrates from his own performance. The second passage, Cra. 417d10–418a3, suggests that the contents of Socrates’ etymologies are ‘laughable’ and that his claim to divine authority for his undertaking may constitute an act of hubris. Finally, a third passage, Cra. 420b7–421c4, lends further evidence to the view that Socrates’ etymological explanations do not reliably lead us to the truth concerning the nature of ‘things that are’, with reference to Parmenides as the paradigmatic charioteer on an intellectual quest. While none of these views is particularly controversial, a renewed examination of the passages listed above will allow us to arrive at a more complete appraisal of Socrates’ performance as an etymologist and of its impact on our reading of the Cratylus.
EUTHYPHRO'S HORSES (CRA. 407D8–9)
At the outset of the dialogue Plato introduces the motif of Socrates as a prophet and interpreter of names whose skill and insight appears to be sanctioned by divine inspiration. The original set-up for the dialogue had been Hermogenes’ invitation to Socrates to interpret the ‘oracle’ issued by Cratylus (384a5), that is, Cratylus’ suggestion that ‘Hermogenes’, ‘son of Hermes’, cannot be the correct name for Hermogenes the interlocutor. Cratylus’ oracle is subsequently interpreted by Socrates to imply that the assumption that Hermes, divine spokesman for trade and thieves, was Hermogenes’ ancestor flies in the face of Hermogenes’ chronic financial ineptness. The dialogue's opening thus plants the recurring theme of Socrates in the service of interpreting divine messages, a familiar picture that evokes his portrayal in the Apology and might, at face value, suggest that we are to associate his new undertaking with a similarly noble cause.Footnote 10 Early in the ensuing performance of etymologies, however, Socrates transcends his familiar role. He finds himself in the grasp of a sudden inspiration that allows him to excel at explaining the meaning of names (396c6–d1; χρησμῳδεῖν 396d3) and thus to act as a mouthpiece for divine wisdom. As noted above, Socrates attributes this inspiration, in which he and Hermogenes profess to lay their trust (πιστεύειν), to his earlier dealings with Euthyphro. The figure of Euthyphro rings alarm bells for the present-day reader,Footnote 11 and it appears that his contemporaries’ verdict was similarly unfavourable. At Euthphr. 3b9–c2, Euthyphro tells Socrates that people in the assembly laugh at him whenever he talks about the gods or foretells the future, ‘as if [he] were a crazy person’ (ὡς μαινομένου). While the contents of Socrates’ ensuing etymologies, at face value, are taken by himself and his interlocutor as divinely inspired and would thus claim respect and credibility, his wish to have himself purified from Euthyphro's influence either ‘with the help of a priest or of a sophist’ (396e3–97a1) once his mission ends appears to counter his professed confidence,Footnote 12 and the readers have reason to remain on their guard.
We subsequently find Socrates inviting Hermogenes, at 407d8–9, to test ‘the [strength] of Euthyphro's horses’. This invitation is an allusion to Il. 5.221–8, where Aeneas invites the Lycian commander Pandarus to join his fight against the Achaean Diomedes.Footnote 13 Aeneas urges Pandarus to ‘see of what sort are the horses of Tros, how they understand their plain and how to traverse it in rapid pursuit and withdrawal’ (Il. 5.221–3).Footnote 14 While Socrates’ reference to Aeneas’ invitation is often noted, its full implications have thus far gone unexplored. First, Aeneas’ invitation to Pandarus to join him is prompted by Pandarus’ complaint that he himself is without horses and chariot: ‘There are no horses nor chariot I could mount […] I left them and made my way on foot to Ilion, trusting a bow, a thing that was to profit me nothing.’Footnote 15 Similarly Socrates, without the wisdom required for etymological interpretation, must rely on Euthyphro's aid to ‘traverse the plain’ of etymology, a terrain with which he is unfamiliar,Footnote 16 ‘in rapid pursuit’Footnote 17 and by means that are not his own. What is more, Socrates’ audience would likely have recalled that Aeneas’ horses had been a gift to his ancestor Tros by Zeus himself (Il. 5.265–6), in compensation for kidnapping Tros's son Ganymede.Footnote 18 Along with Socrates’ interlocutors, the reader is thus about to witness an undertaking that lays a daring claim to supernatural validation. Just as Tros's horses, in use by Aeneas and Pandarus, were sent by Zeus, Euthyphro's inspiration, intended to bestow on Socrates the skill and knowledge necessary for interpreting names, ostensibly issued from a divine origin. The most noticeable flag planted by the Homeric reference, however, is the fact that Pandarus, who had joined Aeneas and his Trojan horses, is killed by Diomedes at Il. 5.294–6:
He fell off the chariot and his armour, glistening and radiant, clattered about him, and the swift-footed horses were startled aside from fear; and there his spirit and his might dissolved.Footnote 19
Tros's startled horses are then stolen by the Achaean Sthenelus, at Diomedes’Footnote 20 command (Il. 5.319–24):
[Sthenelus] did not forget the commands Diomedes of the good war-cry had given him […] he rushed at the fine-maned horses of Aeneas and drove them from the Trojans towards the well-greaved Achaeans.Footnote 21
It is not unreasonable to assume that, to an audience contemporary with Socrates, awareness of Pandarus’ use of another man's resources, along with the violently unsuccessful outcome of this decision, would have signalled a warning. Socrates’ use of Euthyphro's divine inspiration, which grants him the ability to traverse the plain of etymological interpretation, is as deceptively promising as the horses that had been gifted to Tros by Zeus and are put to use by Pandarus and Aeneas, with fatal consequences.
SOCRATES THE PIPER (CRA. 417D10–418A3)
A second, thus far neglected, episode in the dialogue serves to expose as ill-advised Socrates’ claim to divine authority behind his lexical interpretations, which are, moreover, shown to invite ridicule. At 417d10 he interprets the adjective βλαβερόν, ‘harmful’, as deriving from βουλόμενον ἅπτειν ῥοῦν (‘wishing to grasp the flow’, with ‘grasp’ in the sense of ‘restrain, hinder’). Really, the word ought to be not βλαβερόν but βουλ-απτε-ροῦν, he observes, a term that would display all three lexical nuances contained in it: βουλόμενον, ἅπτειν, ῥοῦν. Hermogenes mockingly comments on Socrates’ facial expression as the latter pronounces this concoction of syllables: ‘You seemed to me as if you were mimicking a pipe with your lips and playing the prelude to Athena's hymn when you pronounced “βουλαπτεροῦν”’ (καὶ γὰρ νῦν μοι ἔδοξας ὥσπερ τοῦ τῆς Ἀθηνάας νόμου προαύλιον στομαυλῆσαι, τοῦτο τὸ ὄνομα προειπὼν τὸ βουλαπτεροῦν, 417e7–418a1). Hermogenes may be alluding here to a mythical anecdote involving Athena, the satyr Marsyas and Apollo. According to this anecdote, Athena began to play the pipe but, shocked that her beauty was diminished by the facial expression required for her playing, threw away the instrument. It was subsequently picked up by Marsyas who believed his musical skill to rival that of Apollo himself and challenged the god to a contest. The story ends with Apollo flaying Marsyas alive for his arrogant challenge. On the most innocent reading of this passage in the Cratylus, Hermogenes somewhat irreverently pokes fun at the distorted face of Socrates who, by all accounts, is rendering a divine service by divulging his superhuman wisdom. If, however, Hermogenes is indeed alluding to the Marsyas anecdote, the passage carries more significant implications. Like Marsyas, Socrates is setting himself up as the mouthpiece for a performance of, supposedly, divine expertise. In other words, Socrates, like Marsyas, is displaying the hubristic desire to, as it were, whistle divine tunesFootnote 22 in an act of transgression that is, moreover, potentially ‘harmful’. His attempt to decode oracular utterances,Footnote 23 that is, to explain the meaning of names, is thus rather similar to Marsyas’ attempt to match the sounds of Apollo himself.
The story of Marsyas’ challenge to Apollo is well attested in the Greek and Latin traditions,Footnote 24 and Plato himself betrays his knowledge of it elsewhere in his dialogues. At Euthyd. 285c7–d1 Cleinias’ admirer Ctesippus jokingly allows the sophists Euthydemus and Dionysidorus to ‘destroy’ his current unvirtuous self with the goal of turning him into a virtuous man: ‘I myself, Socrates, am ready to offer myself to the strangers to be flayed by them even more than now, if they wish, if my skin does not end up [being turned into] a wine-skin, like that of Marsyas, but into virtue.’Footnote 25 For our present purpose, Marsyas makes a rather more interesting appearance at Symp. 215, where the drunken party-crasher AlcibiadesFootnote 26 likens Socrates to the satyr himself: ‘Indeed, I say that [Socrates] most resembles these Sileni that are displayed in the statuary shops, those the craftsmen produce as holding pipes or flutes. Once their halves are separated, they are revealed to contain images of gods inside them. And in addition, I say that [Socrates] resembles the satyr Marsyas.’Footnote 27 Alcibiades elucidates his comparison by drawing attention to the physical resemblance between Socrates and the satyr, and calls Socrates ‘hubristic’ (ὑβριστής, 215b7) and a ‘piper’ (αὐλητής, 215b8), both manifest attributes of Marsyas. The act of hubris usually associated with satyrs is that of committing sexual assault, but Alcibiades in the Symposium ironically inverts the term and applies it to the injury Socrates inflicted on him by rejecting his sexual favours.Footnote 28 The comparison of Socrates with Marsyas appears particularly apt, given that Marsyas’ own hubris, uncharacteristically for a satyr, was not of a sexual nature but is expressed, instead, by his putting himself on a par with divine authority: he plays the pipe in defiance of Athena's wishes and believes himself sufficiently skilled to challenge Apollo.Footnote 29 Similarly, Socrates the piper in Plato's Cratylus displays hubris by claiming to speak with divinely inspired skill when decoding the meaning of names, just as if he were able to correctly interpret Apollo's oracles.Footnote 30 He shows himself aware of the potentially dangerous consequences of his undertaking at 399a1–5: ‘It seems you have faith in Euthyphro's inspiration.’ – Hermogenes: ‘Clearly.’ – ‘And you are right to have faith. Just now I seem to have received such a genius revelation that, if I do not watch out, I will run the risk of becoming even too clever for my own good before the day is over.’Footnote 31
Further points of comparison emerge. In the Symposium Alcibiades’ likening of Socrates to Apollo's challenger Marsyas invites the reader to consider Socrates himself as a challenger to the gods,Footnote 32 a contest from which Socrates, in Alcibiades’ portrayal, emerges in a rather favourable light. In a play on the theme of Marsyas’ flaying,Footnote 33 Alcibiades suggests that, once Socrates is ‘opened in two halves’ like the Sileni statues in the shops, he reveals himself to be filled with virtue underneath his outward shell of ignorance.Footnote 34 In what follows, Alcibiades further expands his comparison. In using ‘bare speech’ (ψιλοῖς λόγοις, 215c7) instead of a musical instrument, Socrates is, in fact, a ‘more wondrous’ (θαυμασιώτερος, 215b8 and see 215d3–6) piper than Marsyas, able to enchant his listeners far more than the former. Indeed, much like Socrates himself, his speeches (λόγοι) seem, at face value, rather ridiculous (πάνυ γελοῖοι, 221e2), ‘dressed up on the outside with words and phrases, the gift of an insolent satyr’ (καὶ ὀνόματα καὶ ῥήματα ἔξωθεν περιαμπέχονται, σατύρου δή τινα ὑβριστοῦ δοράν, 221e2–4). ‘But if one looks at the [speeches] as they are opened up and gets inside them, first of all one will find them to be the only speeches that have intelligence in them. Next [one will find] that they are most divine, having in them the most detailed images of virtue, and covering an abundance of, or rather all, subjects that are fit to be studied by him who is to acquire what is good and noble.’Footnote 35
In the exchange between Hermogenes and Socrates at Cra. 417d10–418a1, Hermogenes too likens Socrates to a piper (ἔδοξας στομαυλῆσαι, 417d9), as he pronounces the reconstructed name βουλαπτεροῦν. Despite Hermogenes’ apparent praise of this laboured expression (ποικίλα τὰ ὀνόματα, 417e6) the comparison of Socrates to a piper in this dialogue, unlike in the Symposium, is evidently intended to mock him in his current pursuit. What is more, while Socrates’ ‘bare speeches’ in the Symposium carry a deceptively ridiculous outer shell, but are found to be ‘most divine’ once opened or unfolded, the ‘unfolded’ original form of the adjective βλαβερόν, βουλαπτεροῦν, invites Hermogenes’ ridicule instead of appearing to him ‘most divine’. Given that this original form, translated as ‘wishing to restrain the flow’, reflects the underlying doctrine of flux subscribed to by the name-givers of old, Plato may be signalling, with the mocking image of Socrates the piper, that this name displays content which ought to be judged as laughableFootnote 36 rather than divinely inspired. In what may be a further indication that the wisdom which fuels Socrates’ explanations is not a credible source, Socrates duly points out that it is not he himself who is ‘responsible’ for the term βουλαπτεροῦν but the name-givers: οὐκ ἐγώ, ὦ Ἑρμόγενες, αἴτιος, ἀλλ’ οἱ θέμενοι τὸ ὄνομα (418a2–3).
ΔΟΞΑ AND ΑΛΗΘΕΙΑ (CRA. 420B7–421C4)
The allusion to Euthyphro's horses early in the dialogue had initiated the motif of a chariot quest for Socrates’ performance as an interpreter of names.Footnote 37 This motif has been recognized as an overt parallel to the intellectual quest of Parmenides the charioteer, who, guided by the ‘daughters of the Sun’ (fr. 1.9), encounters a goddess who offers to her visitor knowledge of the Truth—an altogether promising literary paradigm for Socrates’ quest to arrive, via the interpretation of names, at the true nature of their referents. Initially, at 410e3 Socrates notes that he is ‘already well on the way towards wisdom’ with his etymologies (πόρρω ἤδη οἶμαι φαίνομαι σοφίας ἐλαύνειν, ἐλαύνειν = ‘to ride a chariot’).Footnote 38 At 420d1–3 Hermogenes takes note of the pace of Socrates’ etymologizing, which is now coming thick and fast since Socrates is approaching the end of the journey (τέλος γὰρ ἤδη θέω).Footnote 39 In the course of the discussion, however, Plato appears to make use of the same imagery to indicate that all is not well. Socrates’ swiftness is accompanied by stumbles along the way that reflect the varying success of his etymological enquiry. At 414b2–4 he is speeding so fast ‘as to get hurled off his race course’, so fast as to get distracted from his intended agenda whenever he was ‘hitting smooth ground’.Footnote 40 While this remark may be taken simply as confirming Socrates’ ability as a performer, it is possible to read it as echoing his description of the original name-givers, whose zeal for the flux theory, according to which all things are in flow and whirled about (ῥεῖν καὶ φέρεσθαι, 411c4), left them dizzy and confused.Footnote 41
Does Socrates’ journey take him to his intended destination, the knowledge of the true nature of things that are? This question leads me to the final passage I propose for discussion. At 421a1–c4 Hermogenes’ appreciation of Socrates’ bravery in demonstrating the ὀρθότης of the ‘noblest’, most important names strengthens the impression that the journey has come to a close. As noted above, Hermogenes at 420d1–3 had commented on Socrates’ increasing speed, which Socrates explained by the fact that he was approaching the end of the journey, τέλος γὰρ ἤδη θέω. The group of etymologies that had prompted Hermogenes’ comment contained the cognitive terms δόξα, ‘opinion’, οἴησις, ‘opinion/notion’, and βουλή, ‘will/design’. δόξα is linked to the shooting of a bow (τόξον). Capturing the image of bow and arrow, δόξα and the other cognitive terms are associated with ‘aiming at something’, ‘trying to hit some target’ (τὸ ἐφίεσθαι, 420e4). Following this group of etymologies, with the end of the journey now in sight, Socrates himself is propelled by his adopted δόξα,Footnote 42 the flux theory, and is aiming for the perceived τέλος, the interpretation of the ‘noblest’ of names: ‘truth’ (ἀλήθεια), ‘falsehood’ (ψεῦδος), ‘being’ (ὄν) and—we note the perceived etymological link—‘name’, ὄνομα, itself. Socrates explains these terms by repeating the association of ‘being’, ὄν, with motion, pointing to the participle ἰ-όν, ‘going’. His understanding of ‘truth’, ‘falsehood’, ‘being’ and, by consequence, ‘name’, the very denominator indicative of a thing's essential being, remains dependent upon the scientific δόξα that motivates his intellectual quest and determines whether or not he will hit his target. Accordingly, he explains ‘truth’ (ἀλήθεια) as θεία ἄλη, ‘divine wandering’ (421b3).
Initially, the etymological link between δόξα and τόξον at 420b9 brings to mind other bows that may be of importance in the present context. First, given that Socrates’ adopted δόξα is the theory of flux, Heraclitus’ bow (DK 51) may not be far from Plato's mind. Second, we recall that Pandarus, Aeneas’ ill-fated passenger in Book 5 of the Iliad, has to rely on Aeneas’ chariot since he had left his own behind, bringing only his ‘bow, a thing that was to profit me nothing’ (420b6)—in hindsight, a fair assessment that might be suggestive also of the lack of usefulness of Socrates’ ‘bow’, the δόξα of flux.Footnote 43
Furthermore, in view of the overt parallels between Socrates’ and Parmenides’ intellectual quests, the passage presents a fascinating undercurrent. In Parmenides’ poem, the Way of δόξα, the opinion of mortals (δόξας δ’ ἀπὸ τοῦδε βροτείας, beginning at fr. 8.51, and see 1.28b–32) concerning the phenomenal world stands in contrast to an alternative manner of enquiry which assumes ‘that it is’ and that ‘not being’ is impossible (ἡ μὲν [δίζησις] ὅπως ἔστιν τε καὶ ὡς οὐκ ἔστι μὴ εἶναι, fr. 2.8–9). This is the Way of Conviction (πειθώ) which ‘attends upon Truth’ (Ἀληθείηι γὰρ ὀπηδεῖ, fr. 2.10). The fact that Socrates, for his chariot quest, leans on δόξα—a δόξα, moreover, that presupposes an οὐσία in flux, which inevitably invites change from being to not being—all with the final τέλος of explaining the nature of ἀλήθεια, ‘truth’, signals to the reader that Socrates’ route has diverged sharply from the route towards Truth taken by his literary predecessor.Footnote 44