This article maps the complex and changing interrelation of madness (μανία) and truth (ἀλήθεια) in the erotic speeches of the Phaedrus. I try to show that μανία is not merely a secondary aspect but rather a fundamental element within the structure binding together the sequence of speeches. I will show how what starts as an apparently simple binary opposition between μανία and ἀλήθεια in Lysias’ speech and Socrates’ first speech suffers an important modification at the beginning of the palinode, and is finally turned upside down in the radical reappraisal caused by the focus on erotic μανία. The result is a different understanding of μανία, as well as a reassessment of the status and cognitive reliability of day-to-day human perspective.
1. ΜΑΝΙΑ BEFORE THE PALINODE
In general terms, there are two major models for understanding madness in ancient Greek culture. In the exogenous model, madness is understood as a sporadic and temporary event caused by the intervention of an outside divine force. The mad individual is depicted as possessed by a god and led to act in spite of himself or herself. The results are usually catastrophic, leaving the affected person's life in tatters. This is the model found, for example, in tragedies such as Sophocles’ Ajax or Euripides’ Heracles and Bacchae. Footnote 1 In contrast, the endogenous model assigns the cause of madness to a malfunction within the affected individual. In other words, the cause of madness lies within, not outside.Footnote 2 Since this model is found mostly in medical writings, the cause is usually somatic.Footnote 3
As madness is perceived as an exceptional and transitory event, the human perspective is understood to usually work as it ought to, giving an effective and largely accurate access to reality. The human perspective is taken as being effective by default in its basic task of seeing things as they really are. A perspective that is affected by μανία is incapable of giving access to reality as it really is. It is, in short, lacking in truth. In this sense, madness and truth, μανία and ἀλήθεια, are opposed to each other.
This understanding of the opposition between madness and ἀλήθεια underlies both Lysias’ speech and Socrates’ first speech.Footnote 4 Both of these speeches have ἔρως as their ostensive subject matter. These are speeches that try to show, in the context of ancient παιδεραστία, the negative effects of ἔρως, both on the person who is under its direct effect, the ἐραστής, and the person who appears to the ἐραστής as superlatively desirable, the ἐρώμενος. And yet, the ἔρως at the centre of these speeches is a modality of madness. It is, in fact, one of the fundamental assumptions shared by both speeches that ἔρως is a serious disturbance of one's lucid perspective, an event that leads to absurd and destructive behaviour.Footnote 5 ἔρως is a kind of madness and, as such, shares many of the negative features of madness.
This is explicitly stated at several points in the Phaedrus, although neither Socrates nor Phaedrus nor Lysias insists too much on this point until after Socrates’ first speech. The connection between ἔρως and μανία is first brought up at the beginning of Lysias’ speech (231d). It is once again made explicit during the negotiations between Phaedrus and Socrates on the terms of Socrates’ first speech: Socrates will, like Lysias, praise τὸ φρόνιμον and censure τὸ ἄφρον (235e–236a). In Socrates’ first speech, the rule of ἔρως is described as a kind of ὕβρις, as the dominance of a kind of unrestrained ἐπιθυμία, which suggests the presence of μανία (237d–238a). The connection between ἔρως and μανία is made explicit near the end of Socrates’ first speech, when the speaker describes what is due to happen once the maddening effect of ἔρως on the ἐραστής subsides (241a–c). In the same speech, the ἐραστής is said to have made promises and oaths under an ἀνόητος ἀρχή, ‘mindless regime’ (241a). However, it is only in the retrospective diagnosis at the beginning of the palinode (244a) that we are told explicitly that the connection between ἔρως and μανία is the sustaining element of the main thesis of both previous speeches.
This connection is not accidental but rather a cornerstone upon which the speeches are built. This becomes clear when we consider the portrayal of the ἐραστής at the centre of both Lysias’ speech and Socrates’ first speech. Despite differences in detail, both speeches paint a roughly similar picture of a human being displaying many of the signs associated with μανία. The ἐραστής loses control over his own life, neglects his family, his friends and his affairs. He acts in a way that is detrimental to his own self-interest, bringing hardship and even ruin upon himself. His behaviour is shameful and his reputation is damaged by his actions. All this is the result of an event, falling in love, that causes a fundamental change in perspective, turning an individual, the ἐρώμενος, who, for most people, will be just like anyone else, into the centre of the life of the ἐραστής, into the most important being in the world. It turns the ἐρώμενος into the key to the happiness of the ἐραστής, at least while the rule of ἔρως lasts.
Both Lysias and Socrates are taking advantage of the tensions inherent to ancient Greek pederasty. The asymmetric nature of the pederastic relationship entails that only one of the parties, the ἐραστής, is motivated by ἔρως. The ἐρώμενος requires a different kind of motivation to accept and accommodate the advances of the ἐραστής. The proposed solution for this problem lies in the ostensive educational nature of παιδεραστία. The ἐραστής, as a full-grown man and a citizen, is supposed to have the ability to educate and mentor the young and still inexperienced ἐρώμενος. There is, however, a tension between the didactic component of παιδεραστία and the association between ἔρως and μανία. The ἐραστής can only fulfil his didactic task if he is in full possession of his mental abilities. However, as someone who is supposedly in love with the ἐρώμενος, he is not so. It is this tension that Lysias’ speech and Socrates’ first speech focus on, and that makes pederastic ἔρως the perfect foil in a discussion regarding madness and lucidity.Footnote 6
This portrayal also reveals by contrast the conception of lucidity that underlies both speeches. The ἐραστής, as any other μαινόμενος, is completely at odds with the expectations of the community. He has a different understanding of reality, he lives according to different standards and in pursuit of different goals, which the community deems inappropriate and even detrimental to his own self-interest. In doing so, he violates the rules of proper behaviour enforced by his community. In this regard, the ἐραστής, as any other μαινόμενος, is the opposite of what a proper mature lucid citizen ought to be. He lacks sobriety, self-control and the ability to pursue the goals that are commonly understood as the ones to be pursued. The ἐραστής, as any other μαινόμενος, acts against his self-interest and brings shame and hardship on himself. In short, ἔρως—as a modality of μανία, and, by implication, μανία in general—is shown to cause unhappiness and social opprobrium. To be lucid is both to see things and act as others do and to live according to the goals that are widely recognized as worth pursuing.
In these two speeches, μανία and ἀλήθεια appear in stark opposition to each other. The μαινόμενος is incapable of seeing things as they really are, and thereby of acting reasonably. μανία offers an alternative false version of reality. It alters the way in which reality is understood to such an extent that the version of reality the μαινόμενος possesses becomes incompatible with the version of reality held by almost everyone else. The μαινόμενος holds a truth all unto himself, to the exclusion of the socially shared perspective. For that reason, he becomes a stranger to his own community.
2. BENEFICIAL ΜΑΝΙΑ IN THE PALINODE
This conventional assessment of ἔρως and μανία suffers an important change from the end of Socrates’ first speech onwards. After realizing the error of his ways, Socrates assumes a task of enormous proportions: to show that ἔρως is not the unmitigated disaster that it was claimed to be. But the task goes even beyond this: to show that ἔρως is one of the greatest blessings for humankind (244a). Socrates chooses to proceed in a convoluted way and to make the connection between ἔρως and μανία explicit, on the one hand, and to rehabilitate μανία, on the other. This means that Socrates is going to show that ἔρως is one of the greatest blessings by the roundabout way of associating it with a phenomenon that is almost always considered to be utterly destructive.
And so Socrates takes us down the rabbit hole of the different kinds of beneficial μανία. The emphasis on the complexity of μανία, a complex phenomenon that can be considered either bad or good, depending on cause and circumstances (244a), is fundamental for Socrates’ argumentative strategy.Footnote 7 The picture is made more complex by the division of beneficial μανία into four kinds: prophetic, ‘telestic’, poetic and erotic. The latter, the explicit subject of the palinode, whose discussion occupies most of the speech, is put aside for much more extensive treatment later. I will follow Socrates’ example and for now concentrate on prophetic, ‘telestic’ and poetic μανίαι.
The first kind of beneficial μανία, μαντική or prophetic μανία (244b–d), corresponds to the divination or prophecy practised by the Pythia and the Sybil. It occurs as a result of divine possession. The person uttering the prophetic words is out of control, out of herself, and acts—or, to be more precise, is acted upon—as a mouthpiece of the god.Footnote 8 The second kind, which we may call ‘telestic’ μανία (244d–e), but is not even given a name in the Phaedrus, is the most problematic of the three. The text itself is problematic, the grammatical structure is convoluted, and the interpretation is plagued with problems and subject to much scholarly debate.Footnote 9 For our purposes, it suffices to say, roughly, that this μανία imparts some sort of knowledge of how to heal certain diseases, which would otherwise remain unhealed. In other words, through this kind of μανία, as through the other two, humankind receives a benefit that could not be achieved through the application of τέχνη. The third kind, the poetic μανία (245a–b), corresponds to an understanding of poetic inspiration as the result of a possession by the Muses. Great poetic works would therefore not be the product of human ability and effort alone, but would spring through the poet from the Muses.Footnote 10
In spite of their peculiarity, these forms of μανία correspond to cultural institutions and practices that a contemporary of Socrates and Plato would recognize and accept as providers of a kind of specialized knowledge that is none the less different from τέχνη. These forms of μανία appear as alternative providers of truth or means of attaining truth, in a culture that at the same time values τέχνη and admits that some forms of μανία can be the bearers of truth.
These kinds of μανία are, in this sense, sources of ἀλήθεια that, in the context of the palinode, are put in competition with, and even above, τέχναι in their effectiveness, reliability and dignity. Two out of the three kinds of beneficial μανία are explicitly contrasted with versions of the same activity that are classified as τέχναι. These are prophetic μανία—contrasted with a form of divination that uses birds and other signs, οἰονοϊστική (244c–d)—and poetic μανία, contrasted with a poetic τέχνη that produces poetry without the contribution of the Muses (245a). In both cases, the μανία in question is deemed superior to its corresponding τέχνη. By stating the cognitive superiority of specific kinds of μανία, Socrates inverts the relative positions of μανία and τέχνη in the hierarchy of human knowledge. The bad kind of μανία is placed not only below τέχνη but even below the ordinary perspective, that is, the perspective of a sane layperson. The beneficial kind of μανία, on the other hand, is placed above both its respective τέχνη and the ordinary perspective.
Unlike τέχναι, which emerge from training and experience, and are forms of control and mastery over their own field of intervention, the beneficial μανίαι appear as gifts from the gods. These μανίαι seem to spring out and to be produced in such a way that others, as well as the person who is yielding that knowledge, are incapable of following and accounting for, let alone control.
However, these forms of beneficial μανία concern only specific sections of reality, and are applied only in very specific circumstances. They do not cause a radical change of one's perspective. Rather, they are supplementary sources of knowledge that add to what is commonly known, without altering the socially shared perspective, already deemed effective and capable of showing things as they really are. In a culture in which the intervention of the gods was somewhat expected, the contribution of these kinds of μανία does not come as a surprise. The socially shared perspective includes an understanding of its own limitations, and knowledge imparted by the gods is a way of surpassing those limitations. In this sense, these kinds of μανία are a part of the socially shared perspective and, as such, are not in conflict with it. In the context of a perspective deemed effective by default, and so characterized by the presence of ἀλήθεια, the beneficial forms of μανία contribute with additional (but not essential) elements of ἀλήθεια.
3. EROTIC ΜΑΝIΑ: AN ONTOLOGICAL REVOLUTION
The implication of what we have just seen is that the new assessment of the nature and the role of μανία proposed at the beginning of the palinode is not as drastic as one would perhaps be inclined to believe. The complexity introduced by the idea that there are two types of μανία—bad and good—will eventually lead on to a revolutionary reappraisal not only of madness and lucidity but also of the whole ‘ontological’, ‘anthropological’ and ‘theological’ conceptions that underpin and sustain the understanding of madness and lucidity implicit in Lysias’ speech and Socrates’ first speech. But this reappraisal does not occur at this early stage in the palinode. On the contrary, at this introductory stage there is a great degree of continuity between the conception of μανία in force before the palinode and the conception of μανία that underlies the first three kinds of beneficial μανία.
The significant discontinuity only comes with erotic μανία (245b). The fact that erotic μανία is placed, in a seemingly smooth sequence, just after the other kinds of beneficial μανία may suggest that these are phenomena of the same order. This is misleading. Erotic μανία is the subject of the palinode and it was to rehabilitate the role of ἔρως in human existence that Socrates had to produce yet another speech. The first three kinds of beneficial μανία are no more than prolegomena to the fourth, inserted into the speech precisely to make more acceptable the idea of erotic μανία also being beneficial. The illusion of continuity can therefore be read as a rhetorical strategy. By fostering the illusion that the first three kinds of beneficial μανία are similar to erotic μανία, the strangeness of erotic μανία is somewhat reduced. This makes it easier for the audience to accept the claim that erotic μανία is not only beneficial but in fact superlatively beneficial, despite its radical difference from the other forms of beneficial μανία.
The perspective that sustains the notion of erotic μανία differs radically from what is seen previously in the Phaedrus, even in the beginning of the palinode. The rest of the palinode shows a new understanding of reality and truth that is only made clear in hindsight, through the examination of erotic μανία. This is what we are going to do in the next few pages, focussing specifically on the connection between μανία and ἀλήθεια.
Erotic μανία is presented through an aetiological myth. The aim of this myth is to explain a specific state of affairs: nothing less than the constitution of reality in general, and divine and human nature in particular. To justify the claim that erotic μανία constitutes one of the greatest blessings bestowed by the gods on humankind, Socrates produces a myth with titanic ambitions.
Amid the dazzling variety of the palinode's mythological apparatus, one element merits special attention: the place beyond the sky, the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος.Footnote 11 Within the cosmology of the myth, the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος occupies the uppermost position. It functions as an absolute above, beyond which nothing exists. This topology reflects a hierarchy—the highest the region, the more important, noble and divine it is. The highest region is set high above the sky (where the divine and the non-divine souls spend most of their existence) and even further above the earth (where the fallen souls—we—live), not only from a topological point of view but also as the region that is foremost in the cosmological organization of reality.Footnote 12
This place plays a fundamental role in determining the way of life of both divine and non-divine souls. Both kinds of soul are set in a cyclical journey through the sky to and from the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος (246e–247c). Both kinds are described by using the image of the winged chariot, with its charioteer and horses (246a). However, they also differ in their constitution (246a–b). In the divine souls, the ruling element, depicted by the charioteer, has no problems steering the horses, since all are perfectly amenable to the charioteer's control. Non-divine souls, however, are constitutively characterized by the possibility of conflict, as one of the horses does not easily accept the steering of its charioteer. The consequences are that the journey toward the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is much more difficult for the latter than for the former, and that the most they can aspire to is an imperfect view of the beings that are contained therein (248a–c). Non-divine souls can even fail to reach the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, lose their wings and fall down to earth (248c–d). The result of this misadventure is, according to the myth, the constitution of human life down here on earth.Footnote 13
Before the fall, the life of the souls is entirely dominated by the relationship with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. They live in an absolute journey to and from the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, in an attempt to reach it and catch at least a glimpse of the beings contained there. The relationship with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is characterized by intense, permanent and overwhelming yearning. The souls need, desire and strive for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος.Footnote 14
ἀλήθεια is one of the fundamental components of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. This is made clear, first of all, by one of the designations of the place itself: τὸ ἀληθείας πεδίον (248b). ἀλήθεια and related terms are also used in the palinode as generic designations of the contents of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος.Footnote 15 But ἀλήθεια is not the only component of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. Rather, it contains a multiplicity of different beings: δικαιοσύνη, σωφροσύνη, ἐπιστήμη (247d), κάλλος (250b–c), φρόνησις (250d). Nothing in the text suggests that this list is exhaustive. In fact, it is likely that under the many generic terms which designate the contents of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος an undetermined number of different beings are to be understood.
All of these beings share some fundamental characteristics. First, they are all colourless, shapeless and intangible, and only perceptible by νοῦς. Second, this is described as being the οὐσία ὄντως οὖσα (247c), ‘the being that really is’, suggesting a higher (and indeed the highest) ontological status.Footnote 16 Third, these beings are the object of intense yearning by the ψυχαί.Footnote 17 That is to say that there is a fundamental desiderative component in the relationship of the souls with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, and that the contemplation of these beings should not be understood as uninterested or dispassionate. The souls yearn for the beings in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. They yearn for οὐσία ὄντως οὖσα.
This is also a yearning for ἀλήθεια as such. As a generic designation of the contents of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, ἀλήθεια is a characteristic of all the beings in that region. Each of those beings is imbued with ἀλήθεια. And this is so inasmuch as they are understood as the real beings, the beings that really are. But the ontological perfection of these beings has a correlate: a perfectly clear and effective form of access, ἀλήθεια. This is suggested in the text by the characteristics of the journey of the souls towards the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. Terminology of sight and, in general terms, knowing are prevalent throughout the description of the journey.Footnote 18 When they reach their destination, the souls see what is in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος (247c, 248a). The invariably unobstructed view the gods enjoy is contrasted with the variety of outcomes and qualities of vision experienced by the non-divine souls (248a–b). Seeing or not seeing what is beyond the sky is a determining factor in the destiny of the non-divine souls, making the difference between their remaining among the god-led procession in the sky and falling down to earth (248c).
Since the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is the aim of every soul's yearning, human beings are fundamentally attached to ἀλήθεια. This yearning for ἀλήθεια has two different but closely related aspects. The souls hunger for a connection with the superlatively real or true (an ontological ideal, as embodied by the οὐσία ὄντως οὖσα). But the souls also need that this connection be superlatively effective and transparent (a cognitive ideal).Footnote 19 The ἀλήθεια at stake here is precisely that: a superlatively effective and transparent cognitive relationship with the beings that are superlatively real. Even as the souls yearn for other beings (as they yearn for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος as a whole), they yearn also and at the same time for a transparent relationship with them, and so they yearn also and at the same time for ἀλήθεια.
This, however, is not only true of human beings in their winged and airborne condition. In fact, the long mythological description of the adventures and misadventures of the human souls makes it clear that human beings must have had at least a glimpse of the beings in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος (248c).Footnote 20 The basic requirement is relatively modest: not a full view of what lies within the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος but a mere glimpse of ἀλήθεια. Failure to do so leads to the fall of the soul. But all human beings must have had a vision of the truth in order to be human (249b–c).Footnote 21 Human nature as such is intrinsically dependent on having at least a bare minimum of contact with the beings in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος.
This contact, however, has consequences for the condition of the fallen souls down here on earth. The connection with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is not entirely severed with the fall. There remains an indirect, dim and somewhat dormant connection in the form of ἀνάμνησις. The fallen souls somehow remember—in different degrees—what they saw before the fall. This continued connection is constitutive of the fallen souls’ perspective. It is because they had some access to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος that they can have a human perspective at all. This former contact—and the memory thereof—allows for something like a human perspective. It is because of this memory that human beings can make sense of the multiplicity of sensory perceptions they experience down here on earth (249b–c). Therefore, the truth of what is seen here depends on the truth that resides in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος and was seen by the souls before the fall. Furthermore, the quality of the access once enjoyed to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος determines the condition of the fallen soul's life. This is made clear by the scale of βίοι (248c–e), where the souls that have seen the most (τὴν μὲν πλεῖστα ἰδοῦσαν) are put at a higher degree than the rest—the implication being that the vision of the beings within the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is a decisive factor for the kind of life the souls lead after the fall.
The human condition is therefore characterized not only by a yearning for ἀλήθεια but also by the presence of ἀλήθεια—both before and after the fall. What the palinode makes clear is that ἀλήθεια and the yearning for ἀλήθεια are key constituents of human nature.
4. ΛΗΘΗ AND COMPOUND ΛΗΘΗ
From what we have just seen, one would perhaps be tempted to conclude that the ‘traditional’ opposition between μανία and ἀλήθεια remains in place. It would not require a big leap to conclude that our everyday perspective—described, in mythological terms, as the result of the contact with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος—is fundamentally determined by the presence of ἀλήθεια. However, even if it is true that there cannot be a human perspective without at least a minimum of ἀλήθεια, an accurate interpretation of what is stated in the palinode cannot ignore the fundamental role played by λήθη.
In the economy of the myth, the fall of the souls is a cataclysmic event that represents a break with and distancing from the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. However, the relationship between human souls and the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is never easy, even before the fall.Footnote 22 Unlike the divine souls, whose reaching of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is easily achieved and never in doubt, human souls have to face a variety of difficulties. The best case scenario is a limited, partial and distracted contemplation of the beings in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος; the worst is absolute failure, and the consequent loss of wings and fall.Footnote 23 Even in the best possible conditions, the ability of the human souls to access ἀλήθεια is limited. Even before the fall, there is a hint of λήθη in the human souls. The fall represents the moment within the myth in which the balance between ἀλήθεια and λήθη is decisively shifted in favour of the latter. λήθη comes to dominate and define the condition of human beings not as airborne souls but as beings that live down here on earth.Footnote 24
But despite the fall and the increased presence of λήθη, a certain degree of ἀλήθεια remains. This, as we saw before, is a necessary element of human nature, as no soul can become human without having had at least a glimpse of ἀλήθεια.Footnote 25 But through ἀνάμνησις the souls remain linked to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος after the fall. The explicit connection drawn in the palinode between this ἀνάμνησις and the necessary condition for becoming human shows that ἀνάμνησις is not something supervenient and occasional; rather, it constitutes one of the fundamental elements of human nature in its de facto condition.Footnote 26
But this ἀνάμνησις is a much weaker form of connection than the direct (albeit difficult and often incomplete) access the souls had before the fall. The indirect cognitive access to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος through ἀνάμνησις is itself dimmed and confused (250a–b). As a form of access to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, ἀνάμνησις is a moment of ἀλήθεια. But this is a moment of ἀλήθεια that is limited by λήθη in a decisive, although variable, way, making human nature as we know and experience it the mixture of two opposites: ἀλήθεια and λήθη.
But λήθη is more than just a weakening of the presence of ἀλήθεια. Its role is much more complex. To understand this, we must remember that the souls need and yearn for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, which is to say that they need and yearn for ἀλήθεια. This is not changed by the fall. Even when put at a much greater distance from the goal of their existence, the souls still need and yearn for ἀλήθεια and the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. The presence of wings in the fallen souls, albeit in the form of stumps, symbolically indicates this. This, together with the basic kind of ἀνάμνησις mentioned above, forms the connection with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος that survives the fall. The contact with beings that remind the fallen souls of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος reignites this connection and causes a process of regrowth of the wings. This suggests that the yearning for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is not cancelled by the fall; it rather becomes dormant.
However, the fallen human souls are now largely deprived of what they hunger for, as there is no longer a direct contact with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. It would therefore be expected that the fallen human souls experience a painful and frustrated, but no less intense, yearning for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος and for ἀλήθεια. But this is not the case. In fact, the intensity of the yearning experienced by the airborne souls seems to be much greater than the intensity of the yearning felt by the fallen souls in normal circumstances. In other words, a permanent all-powerful yearning for ἀλήθεια is something the fallen human souls (that is to say, we) do not experience, except, perhaps, on rare occasions.Footnote 27
If non-divine souls are characterized by a yearning for ἀλήθεια, the apparent absence of this yearning in a situation in which the souls are much further away from what they yearn for stands out as problematic. Either the yearning is cancelled by the fall, or something happens as a result of it that masks or moderates this yearning. But the yearning for ἀλήθεια is an essential constituent element of human nature. As we will see in more detail when we consider the philosopher and the lover, the yearning for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος and for ἀλήθεια is never cancelled and can spring out forcefully in these special cases. So there is a strange middle ground between the winged souls and the special cases of the lover and the philosopher in which this yearning is much less present—and this middle ground needs to be explained.
This fact becomes less problematic when we consider the compound nature of λήθη. In addition to the different degrees of λήθη that affect the fallen souls, there is also a second λήθη regarding λήθη itself. The very fact that the souls are affected by λήθη remains for the most part hidden, wrapped or covered in λήθη.Footnote 28 The compound λήθη obscures the fact that our relationship with reality is dominated by λήθη, but, consequently, at the same time, turns what should be an awareness of the absence of ἀλήθεια into the illusion of its presence.
The effect of this compound λήθη can be seen in that, although the fallen souls are determined by their previous connection with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, they seem to be unaware of that fact. The souls do not know that there is such a thing as the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, that they were once winged, and so on. They suffer the effects of their connection with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος and of their current distance from it without, however, understanding their own situation. This applies even to those who, like the philosopher or the lover, have a more intense connection with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος.Footnote 29 It applies to an even greater degree to others whose connection is less intense than the unusual situations of the philosopher and the lover.
The aetiological myth itself appears as a surprising revelation. Even though the souls at the centre of the myth of the palinode are we, human beings, the aetiological explanation is presented as new to us.Footnote 30 We, the fallen souls, are unaware of our own condition and of what caused it. It is to shed light on this—and emphatically on the superlatively beneficial nature of erotic μανία—that the palinode is produced in the first place. Without it, we would not only remain ignorant of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος and the rest; we would also remain ignorant of the fact that we were ignorant of that. And so, in the terms of the palinode, the need for a speech of this sort—a speech that claims to be true—only arises owing to humans being unaware of their situation as immersed in λήθη, that is, the fact that they suffer from λήθη regarding their own λήθη.
This λήθη regarding λήθη results in a silent but effective conviction that our point of view is fundamentally characterized by ἀλήθεια. The presence of this form of λήθη serves as a substitute of ἀλήθεια and is enough to satisfy the intrinsic yearning for it. In short, every soul needs and wants ἀλήθεια and the only reason most of them do not actively pursue it is because they are convinced they already have it. The need for truth remains, but is deceived into a dormant state by a λήθη that is erroneously understood as ἀλήθεια.
5. THE PHILOSOPHER AND THE LOVER
But the presence of compound λήθη becomes clearer when we consider the special cases where there is an intensification of the constitutive connection with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. In these cases, the ἀνάμνησις that is a fundamental component of human nature becomes the necessary condition for a different kind of ἀνάμνησις. This different kind of ἀνάμνησις can be described as a kindled ἀνάμνησις, since the basic ἀνάμνησις, which usually operates unnoticed in the background, comes to the forefront with greater intensity. This kindled ἀνάμνησις is the starting point of a gradual progress of a minimum of ἀλήθεια towards a higher degree of ἀλήθεια, and from an almost total hegemony of λήθη to a diminishing degree of λήθη. The palinode provides us with two examples of this kind of ἀνάμνησις: ἔρως and φιλοσοφία.
The specific kind of kindled ἀνάμνησις that is φιλοσοφία, or βίος φιλόσοφος, corresponds to an intensified and clearer form of contact with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. However, this form of ἀνάμνησις is not exempt from also being affected by λήθη. In fact, although this ἀνάμνησις constitutes a clearer form of access than the perspective of most other fallen souls, it still falls far short of the kind of access afforded to the non-divine souls before the fall, let alone divine souls. But the limitations of philosophical ἀνάμνησις are not merely relative to more effective and clearer forms of access to ἀλήθεια. In fact, the kind of access afforded by philosophical ἀνάμνησις is itself dimmed and confused.Footnote 31 In their experience down here on earth, these souls recognize the likenesses of what they saw beyond the sky (250a–b).Footnote 32 In this, the philosopher is closer to ἀλήθεια than most other fallen souls.Footnote 33 But, at the same time, this does not constitute a clear access to it. Rather, although the philosopher's perspective is closer to the truth, the effect of this increased proximity is similar to madness in two regards. On the one hand, there is an intense emotional reaction; on the other hand, the memory of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is itself a source of amazement and bewilderment. The philosopher's improved access to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος does not translate into a clear perspective. Quite the contrary, it becomes an experience of the philosopher's own ignorance and, by contrast, of the lack of amazement of other souls not similarly affected as an illusion of knowledge.
Philosophical ἀνάμνησις is an improved form of access to the truth not because it comes as a clear, effective and accurate vision of truth, but rather because it reveals the illusion of the ordinary perspective and shows, however dimly and confusingly, that truth lies in the vision of true being. Philosophical ἀνάμνησις comes to be through an acute awareness of the presence of λήθη in our perspective. The compound λήθη becomes salient. This makes the presence of ἀλήθεια problematic. The φιλόσοφος lives his life in pursuit of ἀλήθεια. He does this because he knows that, in his present condition, he is deprived of ἀλήθεια to a significant degree. This awareness of his condition as someone immersed in λήθη is in itself a moment of ἀλήθεια: whenever this happens, the φιλόσοφος is less affected by compound λήθη. For the philosopher, the awareness of the condition of our perspective as immersed in λήθη becomes the catalyst of another kind of ἀνάμνησις: the ἀνάμνησις that mobilizes towards the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, a kindled ἀνάμνησις. The philosopher searches for the ἀλήθεια that was lost through the remnants of the ἀλήθεια that is still present. He then dedicates his life to the task of eliminating λήθη from his soul, which can be accomplished only through contact with the beings contained in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, that is, through ἀνάμνησις.
This peculiar modality of ἀνάμνησις is a disturbance of the basic modality of ἀνάμνησις and goes far beyond it. The basic modality of ἀνάμνησις seems to provide just a fundamental framework for the existence of human awareness, which requires only a bare minimum of contact with ἀλήθεια.Footnote 34 Kindled ἀνάμνησις, on the other hand, comes face to face with λήθη and thereby causes a significant overall change. It is in contrast with this kindled, active and unsettled ἀνάμνησις that the basic modality of ἀνάμνησις can be described as being dormant, that is, as a form of contact with the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος that lacks many of the characteristics, including struggle and passionate intensity, of the relationship between the souls before the fall and the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος.
This ἀνάμνησις draws the philosopher away from the activities and concerns of normal human beings, causes odd behaviour, makes him seem ignorant of what most people consider to be important.Footnote 35 To the normal perspective, the philosopher will seem mad, as he rejects what most people consider to be reasonable human undertakings. This is a form of lucidity that shows itself as madness.Footnote 36
The form of lucidity that comes with the life of the philosopher is far from what the normal perspective would imagine as lucidity. The lucidity associated with the normal perspective is characterized by apparent clarity, sobriety and self-control. The lucidity of the philosopher has the opposite characteristics: the vision of things similar to what he has seen before the fall strikes him and makes him lose control of himself. Furthermore, he will not have a clear understanding of what is happening to him. In other words, the philosopher will be unable, at least at first, to understand the situation he is in, and to recognize his own perspective as one closer to lucidity than the normal perspective.
In these circumstances, the one who is closer to lucidity appears to be further away from it. The philosopher's perspective has been deprived of the self-assurance that comes with compound λήθη and has lost the standards and guidelines that come with the normal perspective. He has to search for those himself. The anamnetic connection to ἀλήθεια does not render a precise, clear and unhindered picture of what that might be. The gift of this kind of madness is not a precise and clear set of cognitive contents but rather the knowledge of the decayed and mutilated condition of the soul and the intimation that there is something else to be had through ἀνάμνησις. By recognizing this fact, the philosopher has no choice but to pursue this intimation.
The lover is also put on track of the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος through ἀνάμνησις. This requires a trigger: the sight of the beloved, who ignites an intense anamnetic connection with τὸ κάλλος.Footnote 37 It is through this anamnetic connection to beauty that the whole process develops. For the ἐραστής, the ἐρώμενος is an instantiation of τὸ κάλλος, causing irresistible attraction and obsession that draw the ἐραστής towards him. In other words, the ἐραστής desires τὸ κάλλος, of which the ἐρώμενος is a visible, living and breathing instantiation. The desire for the ἐρώμενος is derived from the constitutive hunger for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος.Footnote 38
Although erotic ἀνάμνησις might have greater intensity than the ἀνάμνησις of the philosopher, its scope is more limited.Footnote 39 Of all the beings in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος, the anamnetic connection of the lover will be with beauty alone. This limitation reveals that the lover's ability to perceive beyond what is apparent and to be drawn towards the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is not as great as the philosopher's. But he is drawn none the less, albeit in a different way.
The access of the lover to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος is therefore limited to the narrow path provided by the ἀνάμνησις of τὸ κάλλος. In contrast, philosophical ἀνάμνησις can potentially be triggered by any object. This is possible because philosophical ἀνάμνησις is an ἀνάμνησις of potentially every being that has been contemplated by the soul in its winged state, not just of τὸ κάλλος.Footnote 40
As with the lovers described by Lysias and by Socrates in his first speech, the lover of the palinode behaves oddly, in a way that can be interpreted as mad. He neglects everything that is not the beloved. He values the beloved above family, friends, wealth and reputation. By putting the beloved above all else, the lover is adopting a radically different set of values and is engaging in a behaviour that is at odds with what his community expects.Footnote 41 Being in love creates what is apparently a new need, the need for the beloved. That this is just a symptom of a need that is actually constitutive, the need for ἀλήθεια, is something the lover himself is not aware of. He is only aware of the need for the beloved, not that what he actually loves in the beloved is just the image of what he truly yearns for.Footnote 42
By disturbing the normal state of affairs, ἔρως starts the process that might lead to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. The erotic attachment is actually a manifestation of the soul's yearning for the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος—the same yearning that makes the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος the aim of the winged soul's journey. Thus ἔρως may, if not led astray, be the motor behind a strive towards changing the balance between λήθη and ἀλήθεια in favour of the latter.Footnote 43 As such, this ἔρως can be understood as a form of φιλοσοφεῖν. Better yet, it can be understood simultaneously as the result of φιλοσοφεῖν as the yearning for ἀλήθεια that defines all souls, and also as one of the events that can ignite a philosophical project, that is, a search for the ἀλήθεια that is now recognized as necessary but absent. And this seems to be the essence of φιλοσοφεῖν: an awareness that one's perspective is defective accompanied by an effort to overcome that deficit.
However, falling in love is not a shortcut to absolute ἀλήθεια. It is rather the cause of a change in the correlation of forces in favour of ἀλήθεια. Nor, on the other hand, should it be altogether mixed with philosophical ἀνάμνησις. Even if erotic ἀνάμνησις may, eventually and after going through different stages of progressive overcoming of λήθη, ignite a more generalized ἀνάμνησις, the distinction should be kept.Footnote 44 The philosopher's ἀνάμνησις can be kindled by other beings besides an ἐρώμενος, and the philosopher's intense anamnetic connection can be directed towards beings other than τὸ κάλλος (250b). A lover may become a philosopher in this sense, but nothing in the palinode suggests that one needs first to be a lover to become a philosopher.
The recollection of beauty and other entities seen in the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος by the lover and the philosopher reveals by contrast the normal condition of the fallen souls as deprived of such visions, that is, as bearers of a perspective dominated by compound λήθη. At the same time, the perspectives of the lover and the philosopher are far from enjoying a direct access to the ὑπερουράνιος τόπος. And so they are still characterized by λήθη in a great degree. The confusion both experience reveals that the λήθη that now affects them is no longer hidden, and therefore no longer a form of compound λήθη.
These two examples of lucidity as it is conceived in the palinode are clearly very different from the conception of lucidity that can be found in the previous speeches. In fact, they differ even from the conception of lucidity implied as the opposite of the first three kinds of beneficial madness. The kindled ἀνάμνησις of the lover and of the philosopher is not a process experienced calmly, soberly and with perfect awareness of what is happening. Quite the opposite: both the lover and the philosopher have an experience so intense, so different from the normal standards of lucidity and sober behaviour, that even those who are in the middle of it might come to fear that they are in the grips of μανία, in the negative sense of the word.
6. CONCLUSION
By focussing on a fundamental aspect of the erotic speeches of the Phaedrus, the connection with ἀλήθεια, I have shown that μανία is more than just an ancillary aspect of this part of the dialogue. I make no claims that μανία should be put forward as a candidate for the role of the unifying theme of the Phaedrus. Rather, my claim is more modest: μανία is a fundamental notion that binds the three erotic speeches together, in a complex form of articulation. This form of articulation was described by Griswold as the ‘palinodic structure’ of the Phaedrus, consisting in an apparently settled presentation of perspectives on the discussed subjects, then followed by other, different, perspectives that undermine the supposedly settled nature of the previous perspective to produce a recantation or palinode.Footnote 45 This could also be described as a process of revision and modification of hidden assumptions regarding fundamental notions that sustain and underpin the perspectives expressed in the different speeches.Footnote 46 μανία is one of these notions, providing the grounding for the transition from the anti-erotic stance of Lysias’ speech and Socrates’ first speech to the radical reassessment of ἔρως in Socrates’ second speech.
But the reassessment of the relationship between μανία and ἀλήθεια has consequences beyond the sequence of erotic speeches. The consequences of this new perspective on reality and human nature on the second part of the Phaedrus would go beyond the scope of this article. But it would be very odd if a radical reappraisal of the status of the normal day-to-day perspective did not affect the way in which one understands how humans communicate, teach and persuade. In fact, by associating the day-to-day perspective with madness, the Phaedrus implicitly suggests that it should be disqualified as the basis for meaningful communication. What we witness in the second part of the Phaedrus is a reappraisal of rhetoric that uses as its example and subject the changes in perspective portrayed in the erotic speeches. This reappraisal also explores the connection between rhetoric and truth, and emphasizes the need for a cognitive perspective that goes beyond the ordinary perspective to produce meaningful speeches. In this regard, the subject of the erotic speeches is particularly apt: ἔρως and μανία are not only controversial subjects on which there are a variety of opinions; they are also intrinsically connected with the problems regarding ἀλήθεια and are therefore fertile ground for the discussion of this matter.
This, however, is also significant from a philosophical point of view. In the Phaedrus, the normal perspective that informed the assumptions regarding ἔρως and μανία in Lysias’ speech and in Socrates’ first speech is revealed in the palinode as fundamentally defective. The palinode introduces a different understanding of μανία—one that is not entirely opposed to ἀλήθεια but is rather allied to it and able to help overcome the obstacles to ἀλήθεια. By showing that the normal perspective is in fact immersed in λήθη, Socrates reveals that the ‘mad’ ἀνάμνησις may lead one towards ἀλήθεια. This is a lucidity that comes as madness: not only through madness or because of madness but in the guise of madness. This madness shatters the supposedly self-evident assumption that the normal perspective is right and draws the soul towards ἀλήθεια. What was before seen as lucidity is revealed to be a modality of μανία. And the lucidity that frees from this μανία is shown to be constituted in tension towards and on the track of a fully lucid perspective. In short, this is a lucidity in the making—that can easily be mistaken for μανία.
So we are shown that our ordinary perspective is intrinsically defective, imbued in λήθη. Whatever remnants of truth exist in our ordinary perspective depend on the past contact with a place of perfect being. That such a place may not actually exist at all does not detract from the descriptive effectiveness of the myth. We might not actually be maimed castaways from the absolute journey described in the myth, stranded far away from where we yearn to be, but the aetiological myth suggests that our condition is as if we were so. Regarding the role of ἀλήθεια in our own lives, then, the palinode puts us in an uncomfortable position: our perspective lacks ἀλήθεια to a very large extent and whatever ἀλήθεια there may be, the access we have to it is mostly dimmed and subtracted from us. This challenges our spontaneous assumptions that our perspective is cognitively effective, that any mistakes, misunderstandings and deficits of intelligibility are exceptional occurrences.
The palinode turns these assumptions upside down and puts us face to face with the possibility that our perspective, which we trusted with absolute conviction as lucid, may in fact be intrinsically mad. In this situation, one would perhaps expect that nothing would survive. The consequence of this would be the realization that lucidity does not exist at all—that it is either an illusory status the normal perspective anoints itself with or the imaginary projection of the opposite of what the human condition really is.
However, the palinode suggests something very different. Plato tells us that there is in fact an absolute standard of lucidity, radically different from our normal perspective, with which our own normal perspective continuously but unwittingly is connected. Because of this, perspectives such as the lover's and the philosopher's can be deemed lucid in comparison with our normal perspective—as these alternative perspectives are closer to fulfilling what the socially shared perspective aspires to than the socially shared perspective itself. This is because these alternative perspectives reveal the deficient nature of the normal perspective and intensify the relationship with the truth—which, in normal circumstances, is lukewarm and tame.
What is then left while the normal perspective is dethroned is an intimation of what a fully lucid perspective could be. And so the palinode encourages us to seek the ἀλήθεια that our perspective needs but does not have, with the understanding that this is a difficult task that might never be fulfilled.
