Book 10, Part 1

Socrates - Glaucus

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O' a' the mony braw things I see in the wey oor state is run, there's naething that pleases me mair upon reflection than the rule aboot poetry.

Whit are ye referrin' tae?

Tae the bar on imitative poetry, whilk maist certainly sudnae be allooed; it seems far clearer noo that we've gien the pairts o' the soul their ain names.

Whit dae ye mean?

Tae speak in confidence, for I widnae want ma words repeated tae the tragedy writers an' the rest o' the imitative crew - but I dinna mind tellin' ye, that aw imitative poetry is ruinous tae the understandin' o' the fowk who listen tae it, an' that the only antidote is kennin' the true nature o' it.

Tell me mair aboot whit ye mean.

Weel, I'll tell ye, vaikka I've aye haud a reverence an' love for Homer since I wis a laddie, whilk even noo maks the words stick in ma throat, for he's the grand captain an' teacher o' that hale charmin' tragic bunch; but a man souldnae be held in higher regard than the truth, an' that's why I'll speak oot.

Very guid, he said.

Listen tae me then, or rather, answer me.

Ask yer question.

Can ye tell me whit imitation is? for I truly dinnae ken.

A likely thing, then, that I sud ken it.

Why no? for a duller eye can often see somethin' sooner nor a sharper ane.

Very true, he said; but in yer presence, even if I hid a wee notion o' it, I couldnae muster the courage tae say it. Will ye ask yersel?

Weel then, shall we begin oor enquiry in oor usual wey? Whin a wheen fowk share a common name, we assume they for a common idea or shape an aw. Dae ye understand me?

Aye, I dae.

Lat's tak ony common example; there's beds an' tables in the world - plenty o' them, are there no?

Aye.

But there's juist twa ideas or shapes o' them - yin the idea o' a bed, the ither o' a table.

True.

An' the maker o' either o' them maks a bed or he maks a table for oor use, in line wi' the idea - that's oor wey o' speakin' in this an' similar cases - but nae craftsmakkar can mak the ideas themsel: hoo could he?

Impossible.

An' there's anither artist - I wid like tae ken whit ye wid say aboot him.

Wha is he?

Yin wha maks aw the wye o' things that ither craftsmen mak.

Whit a remarkable chiel!

Hauld on a wee minute, an' there'll be mair reason for ye tae say that. For this fella can mak nae juist vessels o' aw shapes, but plants an' animals, himsel an' aw ither things - the earth an' the heavens, an' the things that are in the heavens or unner the earth; he maks the gods an aw.

He maun be a magician withoot a doubt!

Oh! Ye're nae believin' me, are ye? Dae ye mean there's nae sic maker or creator, or that in yin wey there micht be a maker o' aw these things but in anither wey no? Dae ye see that there's a wey ye could mak them aw yersel?

Whit wey?

A wheesh o' an easy wey; or rather, there's a wheen ways that the trick could be done quick an' easy, nane quicker nor takkin' a mirror an' spinnin' it roon an' roon - ye wid mak the sun an' the heavens, an' the earth an' yersel, an' ither animals an' plants, an' aw the ither things we were juist speakin' aboot a wee while syne, in the mirror.

Aye, he said; but they wid juist be appearances.

Very guid, I said, ye're gettin' there noo. An' the painter an aw is, as I imagine it, juist sic anither yin - a makker o' appearances, is he no?

Och aye.

But then I suppose ye'll say that whit he creates isnae true. An' yet there's a wey in whilk the painter an aw creates a bed?

Aye, he said, but no a real bed.

An' whit aboot the maker o' the bed? Wisnae ye sayin' that he an aw maks, no the idea whilk, accordin' tae us, is the essence o' the bed, but juist a specific bed?

Aye, I did.

Then if he disnae mak that whilk exists he cannae mak true existence, but juist some semblance o' existence; an' if onyone were tae say that the wark o' the maker o' the bed, or o' ony ither craftsman, has real existence, he could hardly be thocht tae be speakin' the truth.

Aye, that's whit the philosophers wid say for sure.

Wee wonder then, that his wark an aw is a dim expression o' truth.

Wee wonder.

Suppose noo that usin' the examples we've juist been ower, we ask wha this imitator is?

If ye wid like.

Weel then, here's three beds: yin that exists in nature, made by God, as I think we can say - for nae yin else can be the maker?

No.

There's anither that's the wark o' the joiner?

Aye.

An' the painter's wark is a third?

Aye.

Beds, then, are o' three sorts, an' there's three artists wha oversee them: God, the maker o' the bed, an' the painter?

Aye, there's three o' them.

God, whether bi choice or acause he haes tae, made yin bed in nature an' yin only; twa or mair sic ideal beds nivver hae been nor ever will be made by God.

Why is that?

Because even if He had made juist twa, a third wid still appear ahint them that baith o' them wid hae for their idea, an' that wid be the ideal bed an' the twa ithers.

Very true, he said.

God kent this, an' He wanted tae be the real maker o' a real bed, no a specific maker o' a specific bed, an' that's why He creatit a bed that is essentially an' bi nature yin only.

Aye, that's whit we believe.

Sall we then speak o' Him as the natural author or maker o' the bed?

Aye, he said; sae far as bi the natural process o' creation He is the author o' this an' aw ither things.

An' whit sall we say o' the carpenter - isnae he an aw the maker o' the bed?

Aye.

But wid ye ca' the painter a creator an' maker?

Certainly no.

Yet if he disnae mak it, whit is he in relation tae the bed?

I think, he said, that we micht fairly ca' him an imitator o' that whilk the ithers mak.

Guid, I said; then ye ca' him wha is third in the line frae nature an imitator?

Certainly, he said.

An' the tragic poet is an imitator, an' therefore, like aw ither imitators, he is three rungs awa' frae the king an' frae the truth?

That seems tae be true.

Then aboot the imitator we agree. An' whit aboot the painter?  I wid like tae ken whether he micht be thocht tae imitate that whilk originally exists in nature, or juist the creations o' artists?

The latter.

As they are or as they appear? Ye still need tae decide this.

Whit dae ye mean?

I mean, that ye can leuk at a bed fae different points o' view, slantways or straight on or frae ony ither angle, an' the bed will appear different, but there's nae difference in reality. An' the same goes for aw things.

Aye, he said, the difference is juist whit appears tae be true.

Noo let me ask ye anither question: Whit is the airt o' paintin' designed tae be - an imitation o' things as they are, or as they appear - o' sicht or o' reality?

O' sicht.

Then the imitator, I said, is a far cry fae the truth, an' can dae aw thingies acause he juist lichtly touches on a wee bit o' them, an' that bit is an image. For example: A painter will paint a cobbler, carpenter, or ony ither craftsman, though he kens naething aboot their airts; an', if he's a guid artist, he micht fule bairns or simple fowk, whan he shows them his picture o' a carpenter fae a distance, an' they'll think they're lookin' at a real carpenter.

Certainly.

An' whenever onyone tells us that he's foond a fella wha kens aw the airts, an' aw ither things that anybody kens, an' every single thing wi' a higher degree o' accuracy than ony ither man - whoever tells us this, I think that we can only imagine him tae be a simple creature wha's likely been fooled by some magician or actor wha he met, an' wha he thocht aa-knowin', acause he himsel wis unable tae analyse the nature o' knowledge an' ignorance an' imitation.

Maist true.

An' so, whan we hear fowk sayin' that the tragedy writers, an' Homer, wha is their heid man, ken aw the airts an' aw things human, virtue as weel as vice, an' divine things an aw, for that the guid poet cannae compose weel unless he kens his subject, an' that he wha disnae hae this knowledge can never be a poet, we ought tae consider whether here an aw there michtnae be a similar illusion. Perhaps they micht hae come across imitators an' been fooled by them; they michtnae hae remembered whan they saw their wyeks that these were but imitations three steps fae the truth, an' could easily be made withoot any knowledge o' the truth, acause they're juist appearances an' no realities? Or, after aw, they micht be richt, an' poets dae really ken the things aboot whilk they seem tae the mony tae speak sae weel?

The question, he said, should deffo be considered.

Noo dae ye suppose that if a fella wis able tae mak the original as weel as the image, he wid seriously devote himsel tae the image-makin' branch? Wid he allou imitation tae be the rulin principle o' his life, as if he hid naething higher in him?

I wid say no.

The real artist, wha kent whit he wis imitatin', wid be interested in realities an' no in imitations; an' wid desire tae leave as memorials o' himsel wyeks mony an' braw; an' instead o' bein' the author o' praises, he wid prefer tae be the theme o' them

Aye, he said, that wid be a far greater source o' honour an' profit for him.

Then, I said, we maun ask Homer a question; no about physic, or ony o' the airts that his poems juist mention in passin': we're no gaun tae ask him, or ony ither poet, whether he's cured patients like Asclepius, or left ahint him a schule o' medicine sic as the Asclepiads wis, or whether he juist talks aboot medicine an' ither airts at second-hand; but we hae a richt tae ken aboot military tactics, politics, eddication, whilk are the chiefest an' noblest subjects o' his poems, an' we can fairly ask him aboot them. 'Friend Homer,' then we say tae him, 'if ye are only twa steps fae the truth in whit ye say o' virtue, an' no three - no an image-maker or imitator - an' if ye are able tae discern whit occupations mak fowk better or waur in private or public life, tell us whit state wis ever better governed wi' yer help? The guid order o' Lacedaemon is due tae Lycurgus, an' mony ither cities great an' smaw hae been similarly benefited by ithers; but wha says that ye hae been a guid legislator tae them an' hae done them ony guid? Italy an' Sicily boast o' Charondas, an' there's Solon wha is renowned amang us; but whit city has onything tae say aboot you?' Is there ony city that he micht name?

I think no, said Glaucon; no even the Homerids themsels pretend that he wis a legislator.

Weel, but is there ony war on record that wis carried oot successfully bi him, or helped bi his advices, whan he wis alive?

There is not.

Or is there ony invention o' his, applicable tae the airts or tae human life, sic as Thales the Milesian or Anacharsis the Scythian, an' ither ingenious men hae come up wi', that is attributed tae him?

There is absolutely naething o' the kind.

But, if Homer never did ony public service, wis he privately a guide or teacher o' ony? Had he in his lifetime friends wha liked tae associate wi' him, an' wha passed on tae posterity an Homeric wey o' life, sic as wis established bi Pythagoras wha wis sae greatly loved for his wisdom, an' whose followers are tae this day quite celebrated for the order that wis named efter him?

Naething o' the kind is recorded o' him. For surely, Socrates, Creophylus, the companion o' Homer, that chiel o' flesh, whose name aye maks us chuckle, micht be mair fairly ridiculed for his stupidity, if, as is said, Homer wis greatly neglected bi him an' ithers in his ain day whan he wis alive?

Aye, I replied, that's whit the stories say. But can ye imagine, Glaucon, that if Homer had truly been able tae learn an' improve mankind - if he had possessed knowledge an' no juist been an imitator - can ye imagine, I say, that he widnae hae had mony followers, an' been honoured an' loved bi them? Protagoras o' Abdera, an' Prodicus o' Ceos, an' a hale wheen ithers, juist need tae whisper tae their contemporaries: 'Ye'll niver be able tae manage either yer ain hoose or yer ain state until ye appoint us tae be yer meenisters o' eddication' - an' this ingenious wheeze o' theirs has sic an effect in makin' them like them that their companions near aboot carry them aboot on their shoulders. An' is it conceivable that the fowk wha lived at the same time as Homer, or again Hesiod, wid hae alloued either o' them tae gang aboot as rhapsodes, if they had really been able tae mak mankind virtuous?  Wid they no hae been as unwilling tae pairt wi' them as wi' gowd, an' hae compelled them tae bide at hame wi' them? Or, if the maister widnae bide, then the disciples wid hae followed him aboot everywhere, until they had gotten enough learnin'?

Aye, Socrates, that, I think, is quite true.

Then maun we no infer that aw these poetry fowk, startin' wi' Homer, are juist imitators; they copy images o' virtue an' the like, but the truethin' they niver reach? The poet is like a painter wha, as we've observed afore, will mak a likeness o' a cobbler though he kens naething aboot cobblin'; an' his picture is guid enough for those wha ken nae mair nor he dis, an' judge only bi colours an' shapes.

Absolutely.

In the same wey the poet wi' his words an' phrases can be said tae lay on the colours o' the several airts, himsel understandin' their nature juist enough tae imitate them; an' ither fowk, wha are as ignorant as he is, an' judge only frae his words, imagine that if he speaks o' cobblin', or o' military tactics, or o' onything else, in meter an' harmony an' rhythm, he speaks very weel - sic is the sweet influence that melody an' rhythm hae bi nature. An' I think that ye maun hae observed again an' again whit a puir appearance the tales o' poets mak whan stripped o' the colours that music pits upon them, an' recited in plain prose.

Aye, he said.

They are like faces that were niver truly bonnie, but juist bloomin'; an' noo the bloom o' youth has passed awa' frae them?

Exactly.

Here's anither point: The imitator or maker o' the image kens naething o' true existence; he kens juist appearances only. Am I no right?

Aye.

Then let us hae a clear understaundin', an' no be satisfied wi' hauf an explanation.

Proceed.

O' the painter we say that he will paint reins, and he will paint a bit?

Aye.

An' the fellae wha works wi' leather an' brass will mak them?

Certainly.

But dis the painter ken the richt shape o' the bit an' reins? Na, hardly even the fowk wha mak them oot o' brass an' leather; juist the horse rider wha kens hoo tae use them - he kens their richt shape.

Absolutely true.

An' could we no say the same aboot aw things?

Whit?

That there's three airts that are involved wi' aw things: yin that uses them, anither that maks them, a third that imitates them?

Aye.

An' the excellence or beauty or truth o' every structure, livin' or no livin', an' o' every action o' a man, is relative tae the purpose for whilk nature or the artist has meant them.

True.

Then the chiel wha uses them maun hae the greatest experience o' them, an' he maun tell the maker the guid or bad qualities that show themsels in use; for example, the flute player will tell the flute-maker which o' his flutes is satisfyin' tae the performer; he'll tell him hoo he ought tae mak them, an' the ither will tak tent o' his instructions?

Och aye.

The yin kens an' therefore speaks wi' authority aboot the goodness an' badness o' flutes, while the ither, trustin' in him, will dae whit he's telt bi him?

True.

The instrument is the same, but aboot the excellence or badness o' it the maker will only reach a richt belief; an' this he'll get frae him wha kens, bi talkin' tae him an' bein' compelled tae hear whit he has tae say, whereas the uuser will hae knowledge?

True.

But will the imitator hae either? Will he ken frae use whether or no his drawin' is correct or bonnie? Or will he hae richt opinion frae bein' compelled tae associate wi' anither fellae wha kens an' gies him instructions aboot whit he should draw?

Neither.

Then he willnae hae any mair true opinion than he will hae knowledge aboot the goodness or badness o' his imitations?

I suppose not.

The imitative artist will be in a braw state o' intelligence aboot his ain creations?

Na, mair like the opposite.

An' still he will continue imitatin' withoot kennin' whit maks a thing guid or bad, an' can therefore be expected tae imitate only that which appears tae be guid tae the ignorant crowd?

Just so.

Sae far then we agree mair or less that the imitator has nae knowledge worth mentionin' o' whit he imitates. Imitation is juist a sort o' play or sport, an' the tragedy writers, whether they write in iambic or in Heroic verse, are imitators in the highest degree?

Aye, very true.

An' noo tell me, I beseech ye, hasnae imitation been shown by us tae be concerned wi' that which is three steps awa' frae the truth?

Certainly.

An' whit is the faculty in a man that imitation is aimed at?

Whit dae ye mean?

I'll explain it: The body that looks big whan seen near, appears wee whan seen faur awa'?

True.

An' the same object appears straight whan lookit at oot o' the watter, an' crukit whan in the watter; an' the hollowed-oot bit becomes curved, acause o' the way sicht can be fooled bi colour. Sae every sort o' confusion is revealed within us; an' this is the weakness o' the human mind that the airt o' conjurin' an' o' deceivin' wi' light an' shadow an' ither clever tricks exploits, havin' an effect on us like magic.

True.

An' the airts o' measurin' an' nummerin' an' weighin' come tae the rescue o' human understandin' - there's the beauty o' them - an' the apparent bigger or wee-er, or mair or hivyer, nae langer hae dominion ower us, but gie wey afore calculation an' measurement an' weight?

Absolutely true.

An' this, surely, maun be the wye o' the calculatin' an' rational pairt o' the soul?

Tae be sure.

An' whan this principle measures an' says for sure that some things are equal, or that some are greater or less than ithers, there occurs an apparent contradiction?

True.

But didnae we say that sic a contradiction is that the same faculty cannae hae opposite opinions at the same time aboot the same thing?

Very true.

Then that part o' the soul that has an opinion contrairy tae measurement isnae the same wi' that which has an opinion in line wi' measurement?

True.

An' the better pairt o' the soul is likely tae be that which trusts in measurement an' calculation?

Certainly.

An' that which is opposed tae them is yin o' the inferior principles o' the soul?

No doubt.

This wis the conclusion that I wis efter whan I said that paintin' or drawin', an' imitation in general, whan daein' their ain proper wye o' things, are far removed fae truth, an' the companions an' friends an' associates o' a principle within us that is equally removed fae reason, an' that they hae nae true or healthy aim.

Exactly.

The imitative art is an inferior bein' that marries an inferior bein', an' has inferior offspring.

Aye, very true.

An' is this juist confined tae sicht, or dis it gang furthir tae hearin' an aa, referrin' in fact tae whit we cry poetry?

Likely the same would apply tae poetry.

Dinnae rely, I said, on a likelihood that comes frae comparin' it tae paintin'; instead, let's examine it further an' see whether the faculty that poetic imitation is aimed at is guid or bad.

Definitely.

We can put the question this wey: Imitation imitates the actions o' fowk, whether somethin' guid or bad comes o' them, an' they rejoice or greive accordingly. Is there onything mair tae it?

Naw, there's naething else.

But in aw this wheyin' o' circumstances, is the man at ane wi' himsel - or rather, like wi' sicht whan there wis confusion an' disagreement in his opinions aboot the same things, is there no fechtin' an' inconsistency in his life an aa? Though I hardly need tae ask again, for I mind that aw this wis already agreed tae; an' we acknawledged that the soul is fu' o' thir an ten thoosand similar clashes happening at the same time?

An' we were richt, he said.

Aye, I said, sae far we were richt; but there wis somethin' missin' that we need tae address noo.

Whit wis missin'?

Didnae we say that a guid man, wha haes the misfortune tae lose his son or somethin' else that's dearest tae him, will bear the loss wi' mair composure than anither?

Aye.

But will he hae nae sorrow, or shoud we say that even though he cannae help grievin', he'll moderate his sorrow?

The latter, he said, is the truer statement.

Tell me: will he be mair likely tae struggle an' haud oot against his sorrow whan he's seen bi his equals, or whan he's by himsel?

It'll mak a big difference whether he's seen or no.

Whan he's bi himsel he winnae mind sayin' or doin' mony things that he wid be ashamed o' onyone hearin' or seein' him dae?

Aye, true.

There's a principle o' law an' reason in him that tells him tae resist, as well as a feelin' o' his misfortune that's forcin' him tae indulge his grief?

True.

But whan a man is pulled in twa opposite directions, tae and fae the same thing, this, as we say, necessarily implies twa separate principles in him?

Certainly.

Yin o' them is ready tae follow the wey o' the law?

How d'ye mean?

The law would say that tae be patient unner sufferin' is best, an' that we shouldnae gie wey tae impatience, as there's nae kennin' whether sic things are guid or evil; an' naething is gained bi impatience; an aa, because nae human thing is o' serious importance, an' grief gets in the wey o' whit's maist needit at the moment.

What's maist needit? he asked.

That we should tak coonsel aboot whit has happened, an' whan the dice hae been thrown set oor affairs in order in the wey that reason sees fit; no like bairns wha hae had a faur, keepin' haud o' the pairt struck an' wastin' time wailin', but always trainin' the soul straucht awa' tae apply a cure, bringin' up that which is sick an' fallen, banishin' the cry o' sorrow bi the healin' airt.

Aye, he said, that's the true wey o' facin' the blows o' fate.

Aye, I said; an' the higher principle is ready tae follow this suggestion o' reason?

Clearly.

An' the ither principle, that gars us mind oor troubles an' murn, an' can never get enough o' them, we can ca' irrational, uselesss, an' cowardly?

Indeed we can.

An' disnae the latter - I mean the rebellious principle - gie a great wheen o' material for imitation? Whereas the wise an' calm temperament, bein' aye maistlins even-tempered, isnae easy tae imitate or tae appreciate whan it is imitated, especially at a public festival whan a mixed crowd is gaithered in a theatre. For the feelin' bein' shown is yin that they are strangers tae.

Certainly.

Then the imitative poet who wants tae be popular isnae made bi nature, nor is his airt meant, tae please or tae affect the principle in the soul that follows reason; instead, he'll prefer the passionate an' moody temperament, that's easy tae imitate?

Absolutely.

An' noo we can fairly tak him an' put him next tae the painter, for he's like him in twa weys: first, insae far as his creations arenae as true - in this, I say, he's like him; an' he's aa an aw like him in bein' involved wi' an inferior pairt o' the soul; an' for that reason we'll be richt in refusin' tae alloo him intae a weel-run state, because he waukens up an' nurtures an' strengthens the feelins an' weakens reason. Like in a city whan the evil fowk are alloued tae be in charge an' the guid fowk are run oot, sae an aa in the soul o' a man, as we claim, the imitative poet plants a bad disposition, for he indulges the irrational nature that cannae tell the difference atween something big an' something wee, but thinks the same thing is big at yin time an' wee at anither - he's a maker o' images an' is far awa' frae the truth.

Exactly.

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