Beyond Socrates’ Dia-Logos
- -
- 100%
- +
However, after the poet appeared in front of me in all his splendour, I didnât dare ask him, for modesty, the question that my curiosity pushed forward into my soul: who was the Hound of the prophecy?
Until the Hound shall come, and bring her to a painful death, the wild beast alloweth none to pass along her way ... that never doth she sate her greedy lust, but after food is hungrier than before.
If the beast to slay was already an allegorical character interpretable as the greed (in fact it is never satisfied), who was the Hound able to defeat it? The Poet answered me thus:
«You need to consider that, being a Hound, it is a hunter and has a good sense of smell, like a dog or a greyhound in sum, than consider that it is a faithful friend of man and has an unmatched speed when he is ready for jerk. If you happen to see its action in rapid succession, you will barely glimpse its figure, but know that its work will be recognizable in the more distant future».
I objected that I would have its name so that I could recognize it, but he said to me:
«Knowing its name wonât help you, maybe you miss what it will do so important for humanity».
I confessed to him that I didnât understand anything until then, maybe that was why I had the courage to ask him a question to which it would be impossible to answer in a few words. Yet, from there started the most beautiful journey of my life.
«You who gained wisdom with such a long journey, how do you think the wide and profound science called philosophy has begun?», I dared ask him.
«Be careful to what Iâm now saying to you, because no one understood well that open-mindedness which gave life to infinite movements of thought like an explosion of billion of stars in the sky, some identifying the only possible happiness with the vision of God, others conceiving reason with the help of divine light as the only means to reach God, others still entrusting on reason the duty to lead man to happiness, the latter considering the death as the end of soul.
Yet if philosophy is an expression of one thing, canât forget its origin from something that goes beyond death, indeed it could be said that it is born from the breath of life, as the sweet sound of the Greek letter phi repeated twice suggests, as a kind of whistle that gives the A (or the F) to the music, like the classical proportion with which Phidias gave harmony to his works, following the golden ratio.
When man began to replace natural elements with physical realities, that tried to overcome on each other, in the representation of the world, the concept of origin and continuation of life (physis in Greek, natura in Latin) broke into the human mind in all its splendour, giving life to the thousand whys of philosophy. Physis is the origin, the progress, the fulfilment of life, is the vital soul of man and universe. When you pronounce it, you can clearly feel the sound of the universe.
It may seem strange that man, considering the physical component of his being, has ended up falling in love with his own thought, but there it is, man is circular.
Embark you now, take the sea to the Ionian coast of Mileto and from there you can continue to Athens, the cradle of democracy and the arts, in the period when Pericles and his circle did culture flourish in the Aegean Sea.»
For never yet have I sailed by ship over the wide sea,
but only to Euboea from Aulis where the Achaeans
once stayed through much storm when they had gathered a great host from divine Hellas for Troy, the land of fair women.
Then I crossed over to Chalcis, to the games of wise Amphidamas
where the sons of the great-hearted hero
proclaimed and appointed prizes. And there I boast
that I gained the victory with a song and carried off an handled tripod
which I dedicated to the Muses of Helicon, in the place where
they first set me in the way of clear song.
Such is all my experience of many-pegged ships...
(Hesiod, Works and Days, 650-660)
2. The flow of the mind
Sailing had been heavy and constant, even at night, when the stars seemed to drive the ship, driven by gusts of winds, which from time to time made it go ahead with some headway. The waves followed one another at such regular rhythm to induce their eyes to close, as if this natural music enchanted them. The first lights of dawn were appearing.
Suddenly the wind changed direction and intensity in a twinkling, the ship began to oscillate heavily forward, pitching like a big water bird. The shipâs master, seeing land on the horizon, didnât think it twice and decided to aim at the island that he saw in the distance. The protests of the old Alcibiades, quivering to return to his Athens, were worthless. Ten years earlier, he had to leave it for a political exile: he was looking forward to come back. He went along with two women of intriguing beauty, he kept explaining to them all they could have done in his city, all the places that he would like to show them, as if those years hadnât elapsed.
The masterâs decision was firm: «weâll let pass the storm before we resume sailing to Athens». The two girls seemed to comprehend the art of mariners and understand what the master was doing. The old Alcibiades, instead, regretted the masterâs lack of courage in facing an upcoming storm. At the time, he had faced far more serious political storms than that simple whirl of wind. Everything went worse: as soon as it was possible, the anchor had been cast and the master arranged to evacuate the ship, fitting out the boats. The two women gave immediately order to their slaves to fit out a boat after requesting permission from the shipâs master. Once on the ground, Alcibiades continued to speak with the master under an improvised roof at the quayside, where the sailors had tied the boats together.
We were landed in the island of Delos, where until four years earlier the treasury of the confederation between Athens and the allied islands was located, at least until Pericles had brought it to Athens.
Of the two girls, one was standing next to Alcibiades ready to satisfy all his wishes, even those that might have seemed unattainable. The other one had fun to feel the wind coming into her clothes and the rain wetting her hair, unconcerned to get sick. I didnât know her name, but talking to her was as sweet as fall in love with her. In an improvised dance move the veil had fallen, in which gathered her hair, that in a moment were released as skittish horses. I pleased to my curiosity, by giving her the veil back:
«Are you travelling to Athens?»
«Yes, my sisterâs husband comes back to Athens after a 10-year exile. Heâs so anxious to see his city again, that heâs really excited».
«What will you do in Athens?»
«It is the city where I have always dreamed of living, for its richness and for its politics, where art and architecture meet with poetry and philosophy, where love for the sea blends with the curiosity and knowledge. What could I have more? Iâm 20, I want to live in the centre of the world and Athens is the centre of the world».
«Where do you come from? Usually the girls who can boast a beauty like yours think about how to marry instead of seeking the centre of the world».
«Not for me, stranger. My family is of ancient Pelasgic origin, the seaâs sailors. They are called Etruscan in the Tyrrhenian, Ionians in the Aegean. Youâll find the Ionian Sea wherever the Tyrrhenian seems to be interrupted and reappear as Aegean».
«Iâm from the Ionian Sea too, Iâm from the Beautiful City, Kali-polis, but my name seems to be originating of the island of Crete».
«What is your name?»
«Ghìgnos Kairòn, there is in my name the imperative of ghÃgnomai...recognize!»
«...And where are you headed?»
«In search of truth».
«It isnât easy your research, I have to admit. Even Mileto, my hometown, seems to be originating of the island of Crete. Legend has it that Miletus, its founder, was born there by the god Apollo, but once he grew up, was exiled by King Minos (just like my brother-in-law Alcibiades), only that Miletus didnât return on his island home again: first, he had arrived on Samosâ island, then founded the city that was named after him».
«The story you told me resembles that of Ion. It is said that he too was born by god Apollo, but then was accepted by his father Xuthus, who became the progenitor of the Ionians».
«You have read the Catalogue of Women of Hesiod. Perhaps you know from Euripides how much, for Ion, it wasnât so important to know who his father was, all he cared about was if his mother, Creusa, was Athenian, because only then he would have been able to speak publicly in Athens. Anyway, Ionic Greek is the travellersâ dialect. In the period when the heroes of the mythical Troy War had returned to their islands and to their cities, it spread along the coasts of Asia Minor. Not always the heroes who had come home were welcome, they didnât always acted like heroes on their return journey, in 10 years they had gotten used to acting as pirates and to realize that they had to provide for themselves without expecting great favours from gods».
She spoke stroking her neck in a sensual manner, she seemed to lose herself in her thoughts, let speak and then hit target.
I let myself go thinking about a dialogue with a friend some time before:
«Actually, gods were picking on them because they had taken Troy without their permission, thanks to Ulyssesâ guile. Did men now have the luxury of deciding their actions without waiting for the result of the sacrifices to offer to them? If the gods described by Hesiod and Homer have the worst defects of men, enough to deceive each other, steal and commit adultery, maybe they arenât able to impart a true knowledge to men. Yet, despite being vindictive, they are the depositaries of an order in the world. My friend Herodotus has an idea of ââthe origin of the word âgodsâ: they are so called (theoi) because they establish (thentes) an order, give some rules that men must take as reference of their actions».
«The reference you talk about is important, otherwise each of us risks getting lost in transit or in the sea or even in the sea of ââfeelings. In our city, we have at long last begun to draw geographic maps to which refer to during navigation. Both Hecataeus and Anaximander have located all known people and territories on a map. The shipâs master uses their maps: heâs from Mileto, I know him well. Our people make reference to the myth of Theseus, heâs like a god for us, so much that his name comes from the same word (Thes-) as the gods are called. Do you know his story?»
«I know it only in part; heâs the hero who defeated the Minotaur in the labyrinth of Knossos, succeeding then in getting out of the labyrinth thanks to the thread of Ariadne and return to Athens becoming king of that city and ruler of the Aegean Sea».
«So you donât know that he was born and raised on the Island of Samos, heâs officially Ionian, though he was the son of an ancient king of Athens, named Aegean, who had buried a sandal and his sword under a huge rock, before returning to Athens. Once he became a strong and brave boy, Theseus moved the rock and recovered his father's sword, demonstrating that he was the son of Aegean. He had to follow a dangerous path, in order to reach Athens, in the world of the dead, where some subterranean deities, in the guise of thieves and bandits, unsuccessfully tried to kill him. Arrived in Athens and recognized by his father Aegean, he faced a monstrous bull in the Marathon's plain, succeeding in defeating it. He then convinced his father to get sent among the young men to sacrifice on the island of Crete, in order to kill the Minotaur».
«Now I realize that I knew only a small part of his story: I can say now that I know everything about this hero».
«You donât know anything yet: during the Battle of Marathon, Theseusâ ghost appeared, as a warrior of prodigious stature, to the Greek soldiers led by Miltiades. The Greeks were fighting against the Persians and incited by him turned more ardently against the enemy, thus gaining the victory. This was the battle that revenged for us because the Persians had destroyed Mileto some years earlier».
Her deep eyes seemed to take flight to heaven in saying these words. Then I remembered some of the things I had heard about Theseusâ ship, impossible to understand rationally, but now those ones meant plenty while I saw the emotion in her eyes.
«That battle allowed Athens to control Aegean Seaâs poleis - I said to her - Theseus isnât just an Ionian hero, but a hero for the whole Hellas. I knew a curious detail on his ship: however his ship had done a lot of travel, it was always the same. Although the various parts were changed from time to time, the ship never lost its identity, inviolable in cutting through the waves».
«The whole thing works better than the set of individual elements; Theseus was the first to think that the union of individual cities could give rise to a much greater economic and political power than the simple local domain. Athens put into effect this policy along with the Ionian cities from which I come. According to my brother-in-law Alcibiades at this time, the biggest supporter of this policy is Pericles: I hope to know this so brave man who is pursuing Theseusâ original goal».
«Your knowledge doesnât look like those of a woman so young. Can I ask who your preceptor was?»
«My family boast of descending from Neleus and therefore to have originated from the god Poseidon, as well as the legend would like of Theseus. I canât ignore such an important hero. He became something like a god for my people. If you want to know, however, from whom I have received the teachings that have brought me to philosophy, you must know the tradition of Ionian philosophers. Thales, Anaximander and Anaximenes were the first to seek a principle of reality as the principle of all living beings. Do you know the philosopher Anaxagoras, friend of Pericles, he also Ionian?»
«I know Xenophanes of Colophon, an Ionian poet and philosopher who lived in Zancle and Elea. According to him, men are able to garner the best with time; he was sceptical that gods could have revealed everything to the mortals. As you see, I also know something about Ionian philosophers, although I know more about those who have approached my peninsula, closer to the heart of Hellas».
She smiled perhaps hurt in the pride of her proud Ionian origin.
«They call us barbarians because we have been under the control of governors not refined by the fervour of Hellasâ art, politics and knowledge, but we were the only ones to have the courage to say âNoâ to Persians, the only ones to create a merchant network to make other peoples jealous, the only ones to allow menâs natural love for free women».
She had stopped to make the dance moves, walked determined along lines that formed regular squares. The tiger inside her had found free vent. I dared say to her:
«Democracy, in Athens, indulges in the love between old politicians and young chap who are approaching political and social life. You will not have there an easy life if you only will venture to propose such arguments».
«You are wrong if you think I want to mess up Athensâ society as well as you described it, but you underestimate what is new there, where the good use of the word will enable the realization of the true and the beautiful».
«... and you think you are the priestess who knows the true and the beautiful?»
«Stranger, if useful, I will be the one to advocate love as the ideal instrument for soulâs elevation while respecting the gods. Only by scaling the peaks of love man can think of achieving his perfection, but in doing so he needs to be reciprocated in the realization of his pleasure and aspirations».
«Tell me then how will I recognize you in Athens, since our paths will diverge: you may be in Periclesâ circle, while Iâll be looking for a truth, but I donât know if I could recognize you».
«You will then recognize me as you said. As a priestess, expert in divination art and respectful of the will of gods, I will be available to those who will wonder the properties of Eros to achieve the perfection of the soul. I will be Diotima of Mantinea or Aspasia of Mileto or even Pericles' concubine if he will love me, but I will always be a woman coming from barbaric Ionia. My only enjoy will perhaps be to let Theseusâ heirs this gift: the thread that one day Ariadne gave him to get out of the labyrinth wasnât just a thread, it was much more».
So she greeted me as we resumed the journey from Delos to Athens, without giving me the opportunity to exchange other words with her, while the veil I had given her back, in the constant attempt to keep her hair united, was fighting hard against the worst of Etesian winds.
«Bard! thou who art my guide,
Consider well, if virtue be in me Sufficient,
ere to this high enterprise thou trust me.
(Dante Alighieri, Inferno, II vv. 11-14)
«Thy soul is by vile fear assailâd,
which oft So overcasts a man,
that he recoils From noblest resolution,
like a beast At some false semblance in the twilight gloom»
(Dante Alighieri, Inferno, II vv.46-49)
3. The divine mind
I got back with my tail in the legs lost inside my head, because not only I didnât understand how philosophy was born just coming from Mileto, but I didnât even know a way to go to the truth, much less to democracy.
Hm, was there something wrong in the city where Aspasia was heading? Was perhaps the city of Athens incapable of welcoming her message? Or was Aspasia the first between the greatest Utopian in history? Perhaps the mind sometimes fails to understand all the knowledgeable? Or is the world in which we live too limited for the abilities of the human mind? But there was another alternative: maybe I wasn't able to understand and transmit such a deep message.
I was plagued by doubts, the fear of not being up made my body shiver to the backbone. I wouldnât know which of these hypotheses would be more likely, but the Poet urged me to move on, he insisted so that I didnât beat around the bush too much about my thoughts, because fear wasn't an excuse of my eventual failure, because fear weakens legs, because I didnât have anything to prove, neither to him nor to myself, and finally because the energy was stronger in me to move forward rather than giving up.
So I set out to continue the journey that I had taken in the light of that advice from the distant space-time, intended I would go back to consult my guide when the moment was closer to his time. Once I arrived at the port of Piraeus, my eyes opened to what Aspasia had tried to tell me. That wasnât just a port, that was Piraeus. The most important market in the world. Egyptian and Phoenician vessels were alternating with Greek ships without causing astonishment, there were even some ships coming from territories controlled by Persians, which until a few years ago thought that they could make Hellas a land of conquest, while now they gladly went to trade there.
Oil, wine, tableware and tissues were widely traded with other populations, among the first Ionian colonies, which made a great demand of it. Some potters had put their workshops near the harbour enticing leaving people to do the last purchases. Clay became ceramic in Keramikosâ workshops, the famous area in the north-west of Athens, where clay was in large quantities. What better place than Piraeus or Agora to sell pots? Imaging the city of Athens, I was impressed by how many things came there from the rest of the world: grain, copper, leathers and, not least, slaves. So much was the grain brought to the city that begs the question of how many people lived there and how much food they would consume on parties or simply for their nourishment. The slaves from Ionia were cheap, so the aristocrats gladly bartered their oil or their wine with a free labour force. The wives would have been happy to have more people for the housework without asking to their husbands.
As I walked along the piers of Piraeus, I heard the coins of Athens tinkle from one corner to the other of the small and large inns, where the owners were contending for the merchants to gladden their breaks after long journeys. Small and round, they didnât fear the comparison with other coins minted in that period: Athenaâs head on one side and the owl with olive branch on the other were so characteristic that they couldnât be confused. That coin was the symbol of a city built to honour the goddess of wisdom, who protected both art and science at the same time. A question began to form inside me, without a reply that could satisfy my curiosity: was the songs of the Muses or the intuition of philosophers to have more importance for this city and for what would have been the future of the world?
I was forgetting, wandering among my thoughts lost in the smells of merchandise for sale, to visit a friend of mine who tried to make both ends meet between Piraeus and Athens. The day for him never ended. He now unloaded the goods from the ships, and then obtained to pack the wool to be sold to the wealthy Etruscan traders, so he managed the mules and packhorses that were loaded with grain and leathers almost nearby the Acropolis. His name was Timofilo; he didnât have a family, but he hoped one day his energy and improvisation would have got on him in the world.
«Ghignos, finally you came, I thought you wouldnât find the right ship».
«You already know that my journey doesnât have a port of arrival decided before departure, I donât know if this is good or bad. Ever since I started my journey, I have left my ship with loose sails just being cautious to where the wind takes me, always looking around».
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.