Natural Spectaculars. Aspects of Plutarch's Philosophy of Nature 9462700435, 9789462700437

Citation preview

NATURAL SPECTACULARS ASPECTS OF PLUTARCH’S PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE

PLUTARCHEA HYPOMNEMATA

Editorial Board Jan Opsomer (KU Leuven) Geert Roskam (KU Leuven) Frances Titchener (Utah State University, Logan) Luc Van der Stockt (KU Leuven) Advisory Board F. Alesse (ILIESI-CNR, Roma) M. Beck (University of South Carolina, Columbia) J. Beneker (University of Wisconsin, Madison) H.-G. Ingenkamp (Universität Bonn) A.G. Nikolaidis (University of Crete, Rethymno) Chr. Pelling (Christ Church, Oxford) A. Pérez Jiménez (Universidad de Málaga) Th. Schmidt (Université de Fribourg) P.A. Stadter (University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill)

NATURAL SPECTACULARS ASPECTS OF PLUTARCH’S PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE

Edited by

MICHIEL MEEUSEN and LUC VAN DER STOCKT

Leuven University Press

© 2015 by Leuven University Press / Presses Universitaires de Louvain / Universitaire Pers Leuven Minderbroedersstraat 4, B-3000 Leuven (Belgium) All rights reserved. Except in those cases expressly determined by law, no part of this publication may be multiplied, saved in an automated datafile or made public in any way whatsoever without the express prior written consent of the publishers. ISBN 978 94 6270 043 7 D / 2015 / 1869 / 43 NUR 735-732 Cover design: Joke Klaassen

Contents Acknowledgements

7

Contributors

9

Introducing Plutarch’s Natural Philosophy MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

11

I. Physics and Metaphysics Plutarch on the Geometry of the Elements JAN OPSOMER ‘Say Goodbye to Opinions!’ Plutarch’s Philosophy of Natural Phenomena and the Journey to Metaphysical Knowledge SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES

29

57

II. Physical Aetiology and Exegesis Are Women Colder or Hotter than Men? (Quaest. conv. 3,4) ANGELO CASANOVA

75

Plutarch and the Commentary on the Phaenomena of Aratus PAOLA VOLPE CACCIATORE

87

The Moon as Agent of Decay (Plut., Quaest. conv. 3,10; Macr., Sat. 7,16,15–34) ALDO SETAIOLI Some Notes on Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales FABIO TANGA Plutarch Solving Natural Problems: For What Cause? (The Case of Quaest. nat. 29,919AB) MICHIEL MEEUSEN

99 113

129

6

CONTENTS III. Man’s Place in the Cosmos

The Light of the Moon: An Active Participant on the Battlefield in Plutarch’s Parallel Lives LUISA LESAGE GÁRRIGA

145

The Power of Nature and Its Influence on Statesmen in the Work of Plutarch ANA FERREIRA

155

Chasing Butterflies: The Conception of the Soul in Plutarch’s Works ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE

167

Plutarch’s Anthropology and Its Influence on His Cosmological Framework LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

179

IV. Compositional Technique and Style From Chaos to Cosmos (and Back Again): Plato’s Timaeus and the Composition of De animae procreatione and De facie in orbe lunae BRAM DEMULDER

199

Plutarch and Transgressions of Nature: Stylistic Analysis of De facie in orbe lunae 926CD AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

215

Plutarch on Solon’s Simplicity Concerning Natural Philosophy: Sol. 3,6–7 and Frs. 9 and 12 West DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO

227

Index Nominum et Rerum

241

Acknowledgements The volume at hand collects a series of 14 papers that were presented during the XIVth meeting of the Réseau thématique Plutarque held September 19–20, 2013 at KU Leuven. The aim of this meeting, which took place at the close of a research project on Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales (generously funded by the Research Council of the hosting university), was to study a number of fundamental aspects of Plutarch’s natural philosophy. Most of the papers read during this conference are published in the present volume. Many thanks are due to the participating scholars for their contributions to the conference and to this volume. We are also much obliged to the KU Leuven Research Council and to the Research Foundation – Flanders (FWO) for making this publication possible, as well as to the two anonymous reviewers for their useful comments and suggestions.

Contributors Angelo Casanova – Università degli Studi di Firenze Bram Demulder – KU Leuven / Research Foundation – Flanders (FWO) Ana Ferreira – Universidade do Porto / CECH Delfim Ferreira Leão – Universidade de Coimbra Luisa Lesage Gárriga – Universidad de Málaga Michiel Meeusen – KU Leuven / Research Foundation – Flanders (FWO) Israel Muñoz Gallarte – Universidad de Córdoba Jan Opsomer – KU Leuven, Institute of Philosophy / Internal Funds KU Leuven Aurelio Pérez-Jiménez – Universidad de Málaga Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta – Rijksuniversiteit Groningen Aldo Setaioli – Università degli Studi di Perugia Suzan Sierksma-Agteres – Rijksuniversiteit Groningen Fabio Tanga – Università degli Studi di Salerno Luc Van der Stockt – KU Leuven Paola Volpe Cacciatore – Università degli Studi di Salerno

Introducing Plutarch’s Natural Philosophy MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT Intelligent efforts to understand the world and to amass knowledge about its working, organization and purpose are among the most fundamental human activities that have shaped the history of numerous civilizations from preliterate societies up to this very day1. Nature has always been there, but the invention and development of informative ways to communicate about its appearance and ordering are relatively recent. This introduction will provide a brief outline of the history and outlook of ancient natural philosophy and of Plutarch’s place in this field. A short overview of the organization and content of the present volume then follows. 1. Ancient natural philosophy in short: its history, nature and procedures The first historical records in the areas of astronomy, mathematics and medicine derive from ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt. These records clearly demonstrate that the ancients’ understanding of the natural world was strongly influenced by their views on religion, mythology and even magic. It was generally believed, for instance, that the gods had created the world and that internal ailments were caused by demons in the body. A more rational turn came when the earliest Greek thinkers appeared on the scene, the Pre-Socratics, who tried to explain and understand the physical world primarily on the basis of natural forces, causes and effects. With their critical attitude and sense for abstract thinking, these Greek thinkers did not as such aim to do away with the idea of the divine or of divine creation altogether, though, but the shift towards a more rational approach – i.e. from a ‘supernatural’ towards a ‘natural’ mode of explanation – is generally considered a turning point in the history of science and natural philosophy. As is well known, Greek rationalism was 1 For a general overview of the history of natural philosophy from Antiquity to the nineteenth century, see Grant (2007). For useful introductions to ancient science/natural philosophy, see, e.g., Lloyd (1970); Id. (1973); Stückelberger (1988); Rihll (1999).

12

MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

brought to a head in the figure of Plato, who preferred true reason and pure knowledge of intelligible forms to opinion and conjecture about objects that cannot provide steadfast knowledge. Plato held that we cannot provide an accurate account of the natural world, since it is not stable enough, in an ontological sense, to fulfil this objective. He profoundly distrusted observational knowledge, since it derives from material objects that belong to a world that is always becoming, and he firmly believed, therefore, that data pertaining to sense perception do not allow a precise and correct understanding of the cosmos, let alone of its underlying principles. Whereas Plato’s approach of the natural world had an outspoken anti-empirical character, that of his pupil, Aristotle insisted on the use and value of sense perception in scientific inquiry. Against the Platonists and all philosophers who disparage the use of observation, the Stagirite’s scientific method put specific emphasis on empirical data as key-features in obtaining knowledge about natural phenomena. In his biological writings, Aristotle, indeed, proves to be a careful observer of animal behaviour and physiology (he sometimes even derives his observational knowledge from dissections), but in many other cases he relies on and reports the observations made by others. He also had a profound speculative insight in meteorological phenomena and in the system of the cosmos as a whole. Both Plato and Aristotle became paramount figures in the history of science and natural philosophy; they had numerous intellectual heirs in Hellenistic times and in the period of the Roman empire. In these eras also the Stoic and Epicurean traditions were established, several medical schools came into existence and other fields of knowledge flourished (like astronomy, optics, catoptrics, geography, music, mechanics, architecture etc.), but it would take us much too far to describe these developments in detail here. Aristotle’s body of thought – although initially absorbed in the Neo-Platonic tradition – remained influential well beyond the chronological and geographical boundaries of Antiquity and the Occident. And during the Renaissance, Platonism revived mostly as a humanist reaction against the Aristotelian scholasticism of Medieval times. As regards the intellectual level and quality of ancient natural philosophical texts and their value for the history of science, it is true that they contain several features that can be labelled ‘scientific’ in a universal sense, but this label requires some semantic specifications. These ‘scientific’ features would include the idea that ancient natural philosophy originates from a genuine curiosity about natural phenomena, for which it aims to provide plausible explanations. To this end, ancient thinkers often employ a critical scientific methodology that is characterized by a great sense for detail, observation, abstraction and classification. In their arguments, they mostly take into account the intellectual tradition at hand but at the same time aim to criticize or continue these traditional theories by

INTRODUCING PLUTARCH’S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY

13

looking for innovative viewpoints. In doing so, they often employ a standardized set of technical scientific concepts and terminologies in order to describe physical processes in a more or less uniform way. They also seek to provide explanations that receive the necessary circumspection and prudence from a logical and epistemological perspective. As opposed to modern scientific practices, however, the approach of ancient thinkers may often seem to be too speculative and inexact, which is true especially in the field of the life sciences. Modern science, by contrast, formulates its claims in the form of universal laws and preferably by use of statistical data and calculation. It has a strong link with technology and underpins its claims with repeatable experimentation (often involving an artificial and ‘unnatural’ manipulation of nature itself, e.g., in laboratories). It claims to hold to objectivity, and – most notably – it is generally considered the counterpart of any religious or religiously inspired discourse that is based on a dogmatic acceptance of certain belief systems2. Most of these characteristics are absent in ancient natural philosophical writings, but this does not necessarily imply that ancient theories and concepts about the natural world are to be deemed ‘unscientific’ in principle. After all, natural phenomena were subject to scientific inquiry for much the same reasons as those which lead to scientific knowledge today. On the other hand, if these natural philosophical theories and concepts are to be considered representative of genuine science, we see that ancient science contains a large amount of convictions that are, so to say, incommensurable with today’s perception of it. One may wonder, therefore, what the actual purpose of ancient natural philosophy was exactly, and in which way its history is relevant to us. It is an established fact that in Antiquity the study of natural phenomena was generally integrated in a wider philosophical program, so that it was not considered an independent branch of research that was conducted for its own sake. On the contrary, the philosophical motivations and assumptions on which this research was established radically informed a person’s outlook on the world and even his perception of natural phenomena – i.e. how he looked at nature and what he eventually saw3. Clearly, the natural scientific concepts and theories that were used to communicate about the nature, statute and purpose of natural phenomena were often based on very different presumptions than we have today (as is nicely illustrated, e.g., by the beliefs that the earth is at the orbital centre of all celestial bodies, that a person’s health and temperament are

2 For a comparison of ancient and modern scientific features, see also Lindberg (1992) 1–2; Barton (1994) xii. 3 One may wonder if this has radically changed today. For the case of Plutarch, see Lehoux (2003); Meeusen (2014), 335–338.

14

MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

directly influenced by his bodily fluids, that the heart – not the brain – is the centre of sensation and movement, that there is a providential ordering of the world etc. – all of which were much debated topics at that time). Apart from revealing these intellectual mechanisms that underlie a person’s and/or a society’s world view, contemporary studies of ancient natural philosophical texts often also bring into consideration how specific socio-cultural factors play along in the authorization, validation and dissemination of scientific knowledge in a particular societal context. A study of these features is relevant to us, as it provides a valuable perspective on how the natural world was perceived of in Antiquity and how this view became entrenched in a real-life civilization – the Greco-Roman civilization, which had a seminal influence on our own. This has reflective value for our contemporary outlook on the natural world and for the place that is allotted to it in our own modern society, where science has become omnipresent. Bearing these preliminary remarks in mind, we will now turn to Plutarch’s natural philosophical texts. Which place did natural philosophy hold in the Chaeronean’s general body of thought, and what is their role exactly in the history of natural philosophy? 2. Plutarch’s natural philosophical project Plutarch’s personal insights on and theories about natural causality, primary elements, the place of man in the cosmos and a myriad of ‘marvellous’ natural phenomena are found throughout his entire oeuvre and have their specific formulation in several literary modes and genres4. They provide precious insights into how the Chaeronean stood in this world and looked at it, both as a philosopher and as an all-round intellectual. In his traditional classification of Plutarch’s writings, Ziegler distinguishes the category of the so-called “naturwissenschaftliche Schriften”5, which include De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet, De primo frigido, the spurious (?) Aqua an ignis utilior sit, Quaestiones naturales and a large part – roughly one third – of the sympotic discussions in Quaestiones convivales concerning natural problems6. Even though one might object that 4 See the contributions in Gallo (1992). Scholars have devoted much attention to the influence of several scientific disciplines and fields of knowledge throughout Plutarch’s works, such as medicine (e.g., Boulogne (1996); Vamvouri Ruffy (2012)), astronomy (Pérez Jiménez (1991)), mathematics (Seide (1981)), music (Smits (1970)), linguistics (Göldi (1920)) etc. 5 Ziegler (1951) 637, 706, 851–858. 6 A list of seminal studies on these texts include Görgemanns (1970) and Donini (2011) for De facie; D’Ippolito – Nuzzo (2012) for De primo frigido (also Opsomer (1998) 213–221) and Aqua an ignis sit utilior; Senzasono (2006) and Meeusen (forthcoming) for Quaestiones naturales; Teodorsson (1989–1996), Klotz – Oikonomopoulou (2011) and Vamvouri Ruffy (2012) for Quaestiones convivales.

INTRODUCING PLUTARCH’S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY

15

this type of categorization tends to oversimplify the multi-layered character of these texts and may even mislabel the Chaeronean’s eventual – i.c. philosophical – intentions in these works7, they clearly demonstrate that Plutarch was profoundly interested in the natural world around him in terms of its physical processes and its providential ordering. To provide a proper evaluation of Plutarch’s natural philosophy is not an easy undertaking or, at least, has not always been a matter of course, as is evidenced by traditional Plutarch scholarship. Introductory companions to Plutarch’s life and work or to ancient Greek literature and science more generally mostly gloss over the Chaeronean’s natural philosophical achievements, and if they do mention them, they are not always very constructive in evaluating them. Barrow, for instance, noted in passing: “There are scientific works like the Natural Questions, or On the face on the moon. […] But after making acquaintance with some of the better dialogues or essays a reader must not expect too much from some of those that remain unnoticed here. […] They all contain much of interest, but Plutarch should not be judged by them.”8 The general approach of traditional scholars is often underpinned by a certain feeling of astonishment that an author who is mainly known as a biographer and a moralist ventured to take a few humble steps in the field of natural philosophy. Especially the humble character of Plutarch’s science is underlined by depicting it as an absurd, if not completely insignificant, specimen of ancient thinking, or at least as the work of an amateur9. These views often prove to be biased by modern hindsight, though, and they are certainly at the risk of neglecting the intellectual-philosophical and socio-cultural context from which Plutarch’s scientific writings originated in the first place. In addition, Plutarch’s role and success in the later history of natural philosophy should not be underestimated (as can be illustrated, most notably, by Kepler’s interest in De facie)10. Only since relatively recently scholars have started to reconsider and reassess the ancient scientific value of Plutarch’s natural philosophical writings, and it is the formal intention of the present volume to give further impetus to this dynamic. For instance, with regard to the scientificity of the, at times, indeed, highly rhetorical discussions of natural problems in Quaestiones convivales Fuhrmann bade the modern reader in a rather condescending fashion not to be too severe towards Plutarch, given

7

For protest against the Zieglerian designation of “scritti di fisica e di scienza naturale”, see Donini (1994) 48, n. 32. Cf. also Opsomer (1998) 214. 8 Barrow (1967) 117. 9 E.g., according to Emerson (1891) 310, Plutarch’s “Natural History is that of a lover and poet, and not of a physicist”. 10 See Görgemanns (1970) 157–161.

16

MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

that his time was afflicted with “un affaiblissement général de l’ esprit scientifique”11. König criticized this remark as “an assumption which exemplifies a common failure to understand the rhetorical idiom of so much ancient scientific writing”12. Plutarch’s main emphasis on argumentative plausibility and persuasion is, indeed, conspicuous throughout his natural philosophical writings. In the case of Quaestiones convivales, this has a clear sociological dimension in the context of the sympotic discussions Plutarch describes, where intellectual peers try to demonstrate their own culture and assess that of their fellow symposiasts in a sociable way. It is, indeed, intriguing to see how traditional scientific knowledge was assessed in Plutarch’s intellectual milieu and which rhetorical strategies where employed to attain this goal. At the same time, the emphasis on argumentative plausibility and persuasion in natural scientific matters reveals Plutarch’s underlying philosophical concerns: scholars have shown that his method is clearly inspired by the epistemological framework of Plato’s Timaeus, where we find an account of the world that is famously described as a “likely story” (εἰκὼς μῦθος)13. One of the most seminal insights scholars have gained in studying Plutarch’s natural philosophical writings is that the Chaeronean’s world view (vis-à-vis that of modernity) is constituted in such a way that it attempts to give meaning to the natural spectacle14. To this end, Plutarch ascribed a providential ordering to the cosmos, which is sustained by a divine entity, the Demiurge, who governs and rules the universe. At the basis of the Chaeronean’s view on causality15, lies the idea that natural causes do not exclude God’s intervention in nature and, vice versa, that a person’s devotion towards the divine should not go at the cost of a

11

Fuhrmann (1972) xxiii. For the inferior scientific Zeitgeist of Plutarch’s time, cf. also Ziegler (1951) 889: “Nicht verhehlen darf man sich, daß die Behandlung, besonders der naturwissenschaftlichen Probleme, oft recht oberflächlich und spielerisch ist; ein Vorwurf, der freilich nicht unserm P. zur Last fällt, sondern die seiner Zeit eigentümliche Erschlaffung des ernsthaften wissenschaftlichen Geistes kennzeichnet.” Cf. also Flacelière – Irigoin – Sirinelli – Philippon (1987) lxxxiii: “Il faut reconnaître que beaucoup de ces questions nous paraissent aujourd’ hui futiles, quelquefois absurdes, et que les explications proposées sont souvent peu convaincantes. […] La curiosité de Plutarque, extraordinairement vaste, avait un goût marqué pour l’insolite et le paradoxal, et les arguments d’ Aristote, qu’ il cite si fréquemment, peuvent aujourd’hui faire sourire. Quandoque bonus dormitat … Plutarchus.” For opposition against the idea of a contemporary “déclin du rationalisme”, see, however, ibid. lxxi. 12 König (2007) 51. For another attempt to revalue the argumentative style of the natural problems in Quaestiones convivales, see, e.g., Frazier – Sirinelli (1996) 177–207. 13 See Kechagia (2011); Meeusen (2014). 14 See Görgemanns (1968) 10–11; Id. (1970) 85; Van der Stockt (2011) 454–455. 15 For a seminal study of Plutarch’s view on causality, see Donini (1992).

INTRODUCING PLUTARCH’S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY

17

rational, scientific attitude in interpreting natural phenomena, including divine miracles and omens (such as solar eclipses, monstrous births etc.). Plutarch, thus, engrafts his natural scientific inquiry on a well-reflected philosophical-religious set of ideas, that are themselves firmly based on Platonic dogma and influenced by the scepticism of the New Academy. Plutarch’s more peculiar ancient natural philosophical concepts and beliefs (like, e.g., the idea that the moon has an important function for the life-cycle of human souls, as expressed in De facie) will lose much of their alleged strangeness and absurdity when placed in historical perspective. This can be achieved by interpreting them in light of the contemporary status, scope and limits of ancient natural philosophical thinking, an approach that encompasses questions related to the methodological backdrop of Plutarch’s writings as well as to the rhetorical strategies Plutarch employs in formulating and valorizing scientific knowledge, in constructing scientific authority and in deconstructing it. Other important questions investigate the link between Plutarch’s scientific discourses and other genres of writings (esp. poetry and mythography), the text-genetic process of Plutarch’s writings (in terms of their literary composition and style), the reception of certain theories by later authors etc. It is on the basis of these and related questions that the present volume proposes to analyse a varied (but limited) number of aspects relating to Plutarch’s natural philosophy. 3. Organization and content of the volume The contributions collected in this volume will successively take us from Plutarch’s theory about the primary elements and his ontologicalepistemological preconceptions about the natural world (‘I. Physics and Metaphysics’), to a set of case-studies devoted to his use of physical aetiology and exegesis as a means to explain specific natural phenomena (‘II. Physical Aetiology and Exegesis’). From there, the focus shifts to the place that is allotted to man and his soul in the cosmos and to the influence of natural phenomena on political and military decision making (‘III. Man’s Place in the Cosmos’). Specific aspects related to the ancient scientific discourse, in terms mainly of Plutarch’s compositional technique and literary style, close off the volume (‘IV. Compositional Technique and Style’). In what follows, we provide a synopsis of the organization and argument of the contributions at hand. 3.1. Physics and Metaphysics The first section deals with two specific topics that lie at the very basis of Plutarch’s natural philosophical thinking, viz. his view of the constitution of the primary elements that build up the world, and his more general ontological-epistemological beliefs about how this world is constituted.

18

MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

Both topics are firmly rooted in his Platonic philosophy, drawing on Plato’s theory of the solids and the division between the sensible and intelligible realms in the cosmos respectively. Jan Opsomer opens the collection with a contribution on Plutarch’s geometric atomism, i.e. the Platonic theory that derives the material elements from regular polyhedric shapes. An essential feature of this theory is that qualitative properties are not primitive, but supervene on more fundamental, quantitatively describable properties, such as the size, shape, mass or weight of the atoms, their solidity, position, arrangement and kinetic interactions. Plutarch recognizes that the geometric account provides the causal explanation for phenomenal and other qualitative properties. He praises Plato and Democritus for their theoretical accomplishment in this domain. Yet in his reply to Colotes, he criticizes Epicurus and Democritus because of their atomism, and claims that it is not possible to derive qualities from qualitiless atoms. Plato’s theory is different, Plutarch claims, as it does not make the primordial corpuscles qualitiless and unchanging. Several possible explanations are examined for this discrepancy. In the following contribution Suzan Sierksma-Agteres focuses on the Platonic ontology and (closely connected with it) epistemology that underlie Plutarch’s natural philosophy. Her argument goes that Plutarch, in conformity with Platonic philosophy, acknowledges a clear ontological separation between the sensible and metaphysical realms in the cosmos, and together with it a neat distinction between the corresponding levels of cognition, viz. opinion and knowledge respectively. Yet at the same time, Plutarch’s high regard for, and personal contributions to, the study of natural phenomena show his conviction that a crossing of this divide is possible. Several epistemological models are explored to evaluate how this tension can be solved. 3.2. Physical Aetiology and Exegesis As opposed to the more systematic and essayistic approach of treatises like De primo frigido, Aqua an ignis sit utilior or De facie, where Plutarch treats several natural scientific topics in a monographic fashion, some of his other natural philosophical writings employ alternative textual formats in order to discuss natural phenomena in a rather disorganized and piecemeal fashion. The question-and-answer format, as provided by the genre of natural problems (which finds its model in the Aristotelian Problemata physica), comes in handy for this purpose, and the same is true for the lemmatic approach of exegetical writings (i.e. commentaries)16. The 16

Scholars have argued that the problem format actually offers an epistemological matrix that stands at the very basis of the composition of Plutarch’s scientific writings

INTRODUCING PLUTARCH’S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY

19

second section provides a set of case-studies that deal with Plutarch’s use of physical aetiology and exegesis as a means of explaining specific natural phenomena. Plutarch uses the natural problem format in its traditional form in Quaestiones naturales, whereas in Quaestiones convivales he cross-fertilizes it with the literary genre of the symposium. The use of an exegetical format in conducting scientific research is attested most obviously in Plutarch’s Commentary on Aratus’ Phaenomena, which is preserved only in fragmentary form17. Arguably, by their piecemeal approach these two branches of natural scientific inquiry share a common scientific purpose, in that they aim to attach particular insights to the universals of natural science as developed in more systematic writings. In the case of Plutarch’s Commentary on Aratus’ Phaenomena, for instance, the poet’s verses function as a starting point for the Chaeronean’s discussion and interpretation. Plutarch’s aetiological approach shows that these verses require further physical explanation in order to reveal their full philosophical extent (hence presumably the word Αἰτίαι in the title – indeed, the thematic and methodological overlap between both branches, either aetiological or exegetical, is considerable). This is compatible with the primary philosophical-religious interest of Aratus’ poem for Plutarch. As Negri notes: “il Plutarco fedele sacerdote dell’Apollo delfico, cioè del dio che per eccellenza comunica con gli uomini attraverso ‘segni’, dovette sentirsi particolarmente in sintonia con il poeta dei ‘segni’ benevolmente offerti da Zeus agli uomini, le διοσημεῖαι appunto”18. The absence of an obvious structure or system in these writings does not imply, however, that there are no more subtle structuring principles at work. In the third book of Quaestiones convivales, for instance, Angelo Casanova marks several problem clusters and singles out three natural problems (3,3–5,650A–653B) that are generally concerned with the physiology of women and men in connection to wine and drunkenness: ‘Why do women not get drunk easily, whereas old men do?’, ‘Are women

(see, e.g., Boulogne (2005) 198, n. 6). Each of these works is more or less concerned with supplying multiple explanations to a main problem. From a text genetic perspective it can even be argued that these treatises are composed on the basis of actual problems, where several answers are provided (and broadly elaborated) to one central quaestio. In this sense, De primo frigido deals with the question ‘Which, if any, is the active principle or substance of cold?’ (cf. 945F), Aqua an ignis sit utilior investigates ‘Whether fire or water is more useful?’, and in De facie Plutarch chiefly examines ‘What is the substance of the moon?’. 17 Eight fragments remain (frs. 13–20 Sandbach) from Plutarch’s Αἰτίαι τῶν Ἀράτου Διοσημιῶν (which is nr. 119 in the Lamprias Catalogue). 18 Negri (2004) 288.

20

MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

warmer or colder in temperament than men?’, and ‘Whether wine has a cold or warm property?’. These problems are discussed in one and the same sympotic scene – viz. at the occasion of ‘a dinner among friends’ – and treated in a successive order. As such, it can be inferred that they aim to reflect the regular meanderings of convivial dialogues between Plutarch and his sympotic peers, showing how the solution to one problem may raise the formulation of a new one that is closely related to the previous19. The literary character of these dialogues should not, of course, be neglected: after all, this procedure may very well be inspired by Plutarch’s personal recollections and his use of literary sources. The thematic coherence in Plutarch’s Commentary on Aratus’ Phaenomena, on the other hand, is probably of a less associative kind, as can be deduced from his discussion of the visual appearance of the sun and its rays of light in Phaen. 819–830 (preserved as frs. 13–15 Sandbach, and analysed by Paola Volpe Cacciatore in this volume). As far as we can tell from the preserved fragments, Plutarch probably followed the linear development of Aratus’ poem in adding his own elucidations to specific lemma’s in the text (note that his interpretations are preserved in the scholia tradition of Aratus’ Phaenomena). Clearly, Plutarch did not think lightly of Aratus’ authority in the field of ancient meteorology (despite the Stoic character of his work). After all, his verses are not questioned as such but in view of a proper explanation of their scientific content. The issue of scientific authority is also addressed in Casanova’s philological analysis of the natural problems (mentioned above), where he shows that they had been discussed in the Greek philosophical tradition since Parmenides and Empedocles and were repeatedly brought up in the works of Aristotle and his school. The reconsideration of these problems by the symposiasts is interesting for determining the argumentative strategies employed in Plutarch’s intellectual milieu in creatively shaping scientific authority. The eventual success of Plutarch’s Quaestiones convivales (in late Antiquity) is illustrated by Aldo Setaioli’s contribution, which provides a philological analysis of Quaest. conv. 3,10 in comparison with Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,15–34 (both passages are concerned with the belief that moonlight is an agent of decay). Setaioli tries to determine the precise relationship between the Greek and the Roman author by examining how Macrobius renders Plutarch’s aetiological discourse into Latin. Important here, is the idea that Macrobius considered the Chaeronean as an important philosophical authority for the genre of sympotic questions more

19

For a seminal study of the miscellaneous structure of Plutarch’s Quaestiones convivales, see König (2007).

INTRODUCING PLUTARCH’S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY

21

generally, as can be deduced from the fact that he mentions Plutarch along with other philosophers (viz. Aristotle and Apuleius) in his appraisal of convivial inquiry20. As a sympotic sub-genre with its own philosophical ambitions, the genre of natural problems was clearly taken au sérieux in Plutarch’s milieu – or at least within the limits of ‘spoudogelastic’ table discussions among intellectuals. Its established reputation is clearly reflected in Plutarch’s collection of Quaestiones naturales, where the Chaeronean discusses around 40 such problems in their traditional form (i.e. as attested in the Aristotelian Problemata physica). Fabio Tanga’s contribution provides a set of preliminary comments on the text, its tradition, sources, content and reception (identifying a reference to the ‘pica’ eating disorder in Quaest. nat. 26,918D). Michiel Meeusen afterwards investigates the actual purpose and educational agenda of Plutarch’s natural problems. On the basis of a case-study of Quaest. nat. 29,919AB (where Plutarch wonders why we marvel at hot springs but not at cold ones) he argues that the practice of solving natural problems by means of looking for physical aetiologies is not just of scholarly and rhetorical interest for Plutarch, since the eventual goal is more elevated and philosophical: ultimately, it provides a useful weapon against superstition (δεισιδαμονία) and, thus, leads on to a more rational devotion towards the divine (εὐσέβεια). 3.3. Man’s Place in the Cosmos In the third section, the focus shifts to the relation between human beings and the cosmos. The approach will be two-sided: emphasis is first put on the influence of natural phenomena on political and military decision making as described in the Vitae. Afterwards, the focus shifts to the Moralia and more precisely to the place that is allotted to man and his soul in the universe. As regards the first point (the influence of natural phenomena on political and military decision making in the Vitae), it can be noted, first of all, that the physical world – or at least Plutarch’s Platonic view of it – is the ultimate decor against which the Chaeronean’s biographies of illustre Greek and Roman statesmen are set. This can be illustrated by the presence of numerous scientific ‘digressions’ in these texts (often in the form of natural problems), most of which, as Van der Stockt has argued, “are no mere display of scholarship, but are quite functional: they explain the world in which the heroes are operating”21. The description of a spe20 Macrobius, Sat. 7,3,23–24: quod genus [sc. quaestiones convivales] veteres ita ludicrum non putarunt, ut et Aristoteles de ipsis aliqua conscripserit et Plutarchus et vester Apuleius, nec contemnendum sit quod tot philosophantium curam meruit. 21 Van der Stockt (2013) 445 (for further literature, see Meeusen’s contribution, n. 3).

22

MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

cific geographical locale often serves as the narrative background for the actions of Plutarch’s heroes22, and many historical events are directly related to specific natural phenomena and their causes (a lunar eclipse, for instance, can predict military success or defeat). Luisa Lesage Gárriga will deal with the recurrent literary motive of moonlight, showing that it has great natural power, as it is able to condition the strategy of military men on the battlefield. A similar point is made by Ana Ferreira, who shows that the influence of nature (in terms of astronomical, meteorological, biological or geographical phenomena in general) can have either favourable or unfavourable effects on the actions of statesmen. She concludes that a certain educational agenda lies behind these passages, promoting the idea that a true politician must possess a rational mentality and the right cognitive powers to face (natural) adversity calmly. This will enable him to reassure the ignorant masses, who, by contrast, succumb to their ungrounded fear and superstition for lack of knowledge of natural phenomena. As regards the second point (the place allotted to man and his soul in the universe, as discussed in the Moralia), Plutarch, in accordance with his Platonic outlook on the world, tried to relate the psychology of human beings to a larger cosmic framework. Human beings are presented as products of nature, but the rational side of their soul links up, on a higher level, with the immortal and divine realm in the cosmos. Israel Muñoz Gallarte examines if, and to which extent, the theriomorphic representation of the soul as a butterfly (ψυχή) serves as a metaphor in some of Plutarch’s writings, symbolizing the departure of the life’s breath (πνεῦμα) from the body at the moment of a person’s death. Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta further examines the precise relation between Plutarch’s anthropology and cosmology and concludes that the close association between both fields develops from a human perspective. This means that Plutarch’s view of the universe is established on his concept of man (and not the other way around), which in turn reveals the anthropocentric motivation of his world view.

He also points at “Plutarch’s endeavour to explore more or less virtuous human conduct in the world such as it is according to the Platonist Plutarch” (438). 22 Cf., e.g., Sirinelli (2000) 363: “Dans les Vies il parle souvent des particularités géographiques des pays concernés. Il suffit de consulter la Vie d’Alexandre ou celle d’ Antoine pour se rendre compte qu’ il s’ est beaucoup informé sur les régions traversées et avec beaucoup de discernement. On ne peut affirmer qu’il a une connaissance très poussée de toute la géographie de son temps, mais il semble clair que, chaque fois qu’il traite d’ un sujet qui appelle des connaissances dans ce domaine, il fait le nécessaire pour se renseigner et sait où puiser ses informations.”

INTRODUCING PLUTARCH’S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY

23

3.4. Compositional Technique and Style Aspects related to the compositional technique and literary style of Plutarch’s natural philosophical writings are central in the fourth and final section. Bram Demulder analyses the quotation and interpretation of Plato, Ti. 53b (on the pre-cosmic state of the cosmos) in Plutarch’s De animae procreatione in Timaeo and in De facie. He argues that Plutarch is probably using material from the same rough draft (ὑπόμνημα) in composing both works. He then examines how this relates to Plutarch’s authorial intentions more generally, rejecting the idea that there is a fundamental distinction between treatises in which Plutarch comments on a Platonic text (such as De animae procreatione) and treatises in which Plato is used to establish Plutarch’s own positions (such as De facie). In the following paper, Aurelio Pérez-Jiménez gives a stylistic analysis of De facie 926CD (on the earthy nature of the moon), pointing at the literary value of Plutarch’s scientific discourse in terms of several literary and rhetorical devices. Delfim Ferreira Leão closes off this section with an analysis of Solon’s verses on natural phenomena quoted by Plutarch in Sol. 3,6–7 (= frs. 9,1–2 and 12 West). This contribution reflects on the poetic and scientific value of Solon’s verses (which Plutarch describes as ‘simplistic and archaic’) and how they can be harmonized with the sage’s political principles, as conceived by Plutarch. It would be an understatement to say that the present volume does not (and cannot) cover Plutarch’s natural philosophical project in full extent, but if this work succeeds in providing a useful contribution and further impetus to the general reappraisal of Plutarch’s natural philosophy in contemporary scholarship, its eventual goal will be achieved. Multum adhuc restat operis, multumque restabit. Leuven, May 1, 2015 Michiel Meeusen – Luc Van der Stockt Bibliography Barrow, R.H. (1967), Plutarch and His Times, London. Barton, T. (1994), Ancient Astrology, London. Boulogne, J. (1996), “Plutarque et la médecine”, ANRW II, 37, 3, Berlin – New York, 2762–2792. Id. (2005), “Le culte égyptien des animaux vu par Plutarque. Une étiologie égyptienne (Isis et Osiris, 71–76, 379D–382C)”, in Id. (ed.), Les Grecs de l’antiquité et les animaux. Le cas remarquable de Plutarque, Lille, 197–205. D’Ippolito, G. – Nuzzo, G. (2012), Plutarco. L’origine del freddo – Se sia più utile l’acqua o il fuoco. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi moralium 49).

24

MICHIEL MEEUSEN – LUC VAN DER STOCKT

Donini, P. (1992), “I fondamenti della fisica e la teoria delle cause in Plutarco”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 99–120. Id. (1994), “Plutarco e la rinascita del platonismo”, in Cambiano, G. – Canfora, L. – Lanza, D. (eds.), Lo spazio letterario della Grecia antica. 1: La produzione e la circolazione del testo. Vol. 3: I Greci e Roma, Roma, 35–60. Id. (2011), Plutarco. Il volto della luna. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi moralium 48). Emerson, R.W. (1891), Lectures and Biographical Sketches, Boston. Flacelière, R. – Irigoin, J. – Sirinelli, J. – Philippon, A. (1987), Plutarque. Œuvres morales, tome I, 1 (Introduction générale – De l’éducation des enfants – Comment lire les poètes), Paris (CUF). Frazier, F. – Sirinelli, J. (1996), Plutarque. Œuvres morales, tome IX, 3 (Propos de table), Paris (CUF). Fuhrmann, F. (1972), Plutarque. Œuvres morales, tome IX, 1 (Propos de table), Paris (CUF). Gallo, I. (1992), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova. Göldi, O. (1920), Plutarchs sprachliche Interessen, Diss. Zürich. Görgemanns, H. (1968), Das Mondgesicht, Zürich. Id. (1970), Untersuchungen zu Plutarchs Dialog De facie in orbe lunae, Heidelberg. Grant, E. (2007), A History of Natural Philosophy: From the Ancient World to the Nineteenth Century, Cambridge. Kechagia, E. (2011), “Philosophy in Plutarch’s Table Talk. In Jest or in Earnest?”, in Klotz, F. – Oikonomopoulou, K. (eds.), The Philosopher’s Banquet. Plutarch’s Table Talk in the Intellectual Culture of the Roman Empire, Oxford, 77–104. Klotz, F. – Oikonomopoulou, K. (eds.) (2011), The Philosopher’s Banquet. Plutarch’s Table Talk in the Intellectual Culture of the Roman Empire, Oxford. König, J. (2007), “Fragmentation and Coherence in Plutarch’s Sympotic Questions”, in König, J. – Whitmarsh, T. (eds.), Ordering Knowledge in the Roman Empire, Cambridge, 43–68. Lehoux, D. (2003), “Tropes, Facts and Empiricism”, Perspectives on Science 11, 326– 345. Lindberg, D.C. (1992), The Beginnings of Western Science. The European Scientific Tradition in Philosophical, Religious and Institutional Context, 600 B.C. to A.D. 1450, Chicago. Lloyd, G.E.R. (1970), Early Greek Science: Thales to Aristotle, London. Id. (1973), Greek Science after Aristotle, London.

INTRODUCING PLUTARCH’S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY

25

Meeusen, M. (2014), “Plutarch and the Wonder of Nature. Preliminaries to Plutarch’s Science of Physical Problems”, Apeiron 47, 310–341. Id. (forthcoming), Plutarch’s Science of Natural Problems: A Study with Commentary of Quaestiones Naturales, Leuven. Negri, M. (2004), “Plutarco lettore (e commentatore) di Arato”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), La biblioteca di Plutarco. Atti del IX Convegno plutarcheo, Pavia, 13–15 giugno 2002, Napoli, 275–288. Opsomer, J. (1998), In Search of the Truth, Academic Tendencies in Middle Platonism, Brussel. Pérez Jiménez, A. (1991), “Plutarco y el Paisaje Lunar”, in García López, J. – Calderón Dorda, E. (eds.), Estudios sobre Plutarco: paisaje y naturaleza, Actas del II Simposio Español sobre Plutarco (Murcia, 1990), Madrid, 307–317. Rihll, T.E. (1999), Greek Science, Oxford. Seide, R. (1981), Die mathematische Stellen bei Plutarch, Diss. Regensburg. Senzasono, L. (2006), Plutarco. Cause dei fenomeni naturali. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi moralium 42). Sirinelli, J. (2000), Plutarque de Chéronée: Un philosophe dans le siècle, Paris. Smits, J.P.H.M. (1970), Plutarchus en de Griekse muziek: de mentaliteit van de intellectueel in de tweede eeuw na Christus, Bilthoven. Stückelberger, A. (1988), Einführung in die antike Naturwissenschaft, Darmstadt. Teodorsson, S.-T. (1989–1996), A commentary on Plutarch’s Table Talks, Göteborg. Vamvouri Ruffy, M. (2012), Les Vertus thérapeutiques du banquet: Médecine et idéologie dans les Propos de Table de Plutarque, Paris. Van der Stockt, L. (2011), “Some Aspects of Plutarch’s View of the Physical World. Interpreting Causes of Natural Phenomena”, in Candau Morón, J. – González Ponce, F. – Chávez Reino, A. (eds.), Plutarco transmisor. Actas del X simposio internacional de la sociedad española de Plutarquistas (Sevilla, 12–14 de nov. de 2009), Sevilla, 447–455. Id. (2013), “Technical Terminology in Plutarch’s Lives: Addressing the Layman”, in Pace, G. – Volpe Cacciatore, P. (eds.), Gli scritti di Plutarco: tradizione, traduzione, ricezione, commento. Atti del IX Convegno Internazionale della International Plutarch Society Ravello – Auditorium Oscar Niemeyer 29 settembre–1 ottobre 2011, Napoli, 439–445. Ziegler, K. (1951), “Plutarchos von Chaironeia”, in RE XXI.1, Stuttgart, 636–962.

I. PHYSICS AND METAPHYSICS

Plutarch on the Geometry of the Elements JAN OPSOMER

1. Geometric atomism In the second part of the Timaeus, Plato develops a new theory of the four elements. He explains that the familiar elements are derived from geometrically describable shapes, more precisely from four of the five regular polyhedra: the tetrahedron (a pyramid) is assigned to fire, the hexahedron to earth, the octahedron to air, and the icosahedron to water. Plato does not use the fifth polyhedron, the dodecahedron, for any of the elements. Each of the four polyhedra needed for the four elements consist of triangles, combined in a rather complex way so as to make up the faces of the polyhedra. According to Plato, then, the elements from the philosophical tradition are neither first elements nor alphabetic ‘letters’; they are not even syllables1. Indeed, the perceivable elements are constituted by imperceptible polyhedra, consisting of four, six, eight or twenty faces. The faces themselves are constructed out of four or six basic triangles (there are two types of triangles, a scalene for the tetrahedron, octahedron, and icosahedron; an equilateral for the hexahedron). The polyhedra are imperceptible because of their smallness. Moreover, the mechanism of perception relies on the interactions between larger quantities of different elements. Basic triangles are not the most fundamental principles of the elements: Timaeus alludes to ‘principles that are even higher than these’, but forgets to tell us what they are2. The interactions between the polyhedra explain the perceptible properties familiar from the tradition: hot and cold, colours, tastes, solidity, fluidity, roughness of materials etc. The theory is revolutionary in several respects: Plato describes a quantitative framework as the underlying cause of qualitative phenomena.

1 Plato, Ti. 47b5–c2. I follow the page, column, and line numbers and letters of the editions used for the TLG-E. 2 Plato, Ti. 53d4–e5.

30

JAN OPSOMER

Qualities, he suggests, are reducible to regular, geometrically describable shapes and to calculable quantities. Since we know the number of complex surfaces and primary triangles that constitute the elements, it is possible in principle to calculate how many corpuscles of a certain type can be formed out of the remains of a given quantity of corpuscles of a different type, if the latter are broken up. Plato indeed thinks that the polyhedra can be destroyed and dissolved into their components from collisions. Moreover, each type has intrinsic properties that determine their interactions: the fineness of their edges, the sharpness of their angles, the size of their parts, etc. Likewise, the shape determines the ease with which corpuscles can move. Therefore, ordinary qualitative properties can be seen as higher-level properties that supervene on fundamental, mathematically describable properties. So far, I have avoided the expressions ‘geometric properties’ (or shapes or objects), as I did not want to suggest anything about the ontological status of polyhedra and their constituents. In the later tradition, there were debates about whether these principles are geometric in nature3, and hence intelligible (in the sense that implies transcendence with respect to matter), or material. Now that I have expressed this caveat, I will use ‘geometric’ or ‘mathematic’ without intending anything about ontological status. In this context, it is worth drawing attention to the fact that Plato (indirectly) regards triangles and polyhedra as being higher principles than the qualitative material elements4. This metaphor is neither neutral nor self-evident. Plato reduces the so-called elements and their properties to more basic and simpler items. It is not immediately clear, though, why the latter would be higher rather than lower, unless, of course, one thinks that mathematical items are of a higher ontological status and enjoy essential ontological priority in the technical sense. We will see that Plutarch follows Plato in considering the triangles to be ‘higher’ causes. An essential feature of the theory is that qualitative properties are not primitive, but supervene on more fundamental, quantitatively describable properties, such as the size, shape, mass or weight of atoms, their solidity, position, arrangement and kinetic interactions. The reduction of qualitative properties to a limited set of properties of atoms is an idea that Plato shares with Democritus. There are, however, important differences: Plato provides rules for calculability and asserts that corpuscles are destructible. Another crucial difference pertains to the status of qualitative properties, but I will disregard that for now. Aristotle surely saw enough similarities to group Plato and Democritus together, as in book

3 4

Cf. Syrianus, in Metaph. 85,28–86,7; 86,22–27. Plato, Ti. 53d4–e5, containing the phrase τὰς δ’ἔτι τούτων ἀρχὰς ἄνωθεν.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

31

three of De caelo, he develops an extended criticism of both of their views. He considers the theory of the Timaeus to be a form of atomism. Nowadays, we use the term ‘geometric atomism’ to refer to Plato’s theory of the elements in the Timaeus and its development in the later Platonic tradition. To the objection that Plato’s corpuscles are not ‘uncuttable’ (a-tomoi), one may reply that they are uncuttable in the relevant sense: if one cuts them up, one will no longer be left with more of the same. This distinguishes them from Aristotle’s elements, which are infinitely divisible in the sense that in whatever portions one divides a given quantity of an element, the result of the division will always be the very same element. In addition to his fundamental opposition to any kind of atomism, Aristotle strenuously objects to the idea that an explanation of nature can be given in mathematical terms. What we see in nature are qualitative properties and processes, and hence our explanation needs to be in qualitative terms. On this issue, Plato is surprisingly more modern than Aristotle. Late ancient commentators appreciated the value of Plato’s model and were very much aware of its theoretical advantages. Specifically, they were aware of the fact that Plato explains how a wide variety of properties can supervene on, and be reduced to, a limited set of elemental properties, which are mathematically describable5. Finally, I should also qualify the claim that according to Plato, we can know the nature of the elements. The theory of the elements falls under the restrictions of the ‘likely account’. Plato has chosen triangles because they are the simplest two-dimensional geometric shapes and his choice of the specific types of triangles and of regular polyhedra is motivated by their beauty, so he says. Nevertheless, these epistemic restrictions merely pertain to the details of the elaboration of the account. Plato does not question the explanatory principles on which his account of the physical world is based and that have to do with the goodness of the creator god and the beauty of the world. He also does not question his model for explaining these theories. The type of triangles postulated may be open to dispute6, but he never contests the very idea that the elements are constituted by geometric shapes7.

5 Cf. Simplicius, in Cael. 565,11–12 (ῇ δὲ τῶν τοιούτων σχημάτων διαφορᾷ καὶ τὰς ἄλλας πάσας δυνάμεις ἀκολουθεῖν φασι καὶ τὰς εἰς ἄλληλα μεταβολάς); 640,32–641,9; Iamblichus ap. Simplicius, in Cat. 271,6–16. The reduction is non-eliminative, as these Platonists maintain the reality of the supervenient properties. 6 Plato, Ti. 54a4–5; b1–2. 7 I have discussed the theory of the elements in the Timaeus, Aristotle’s critique and the Neoplatonic defence of the theory elsewhere. See Opsomer (2012) with further references.

32

JAN OPSOMER

2. Plutarch and geometric atomism: the issue As a Platonist who considers the Timaeus a more or less sacred text, Plutarch is committed to geometric atomism. He recognises that the geometric account provides a strong causal explanation for phenomenal properties, and he praises Plato and Democritus for their theoretical accomplishment in this domain. In his reply to Colotes, though, he criticises Epicurus and Democritus because of their atomism, asserting that it is not possible to derive qualities from qualitiless atoms. He claims that Plato’s theory is different, as it does not treat primordial corpuscles to be qualitiless and unchanging. Several explanations for this discrepancy are possible: (1) Plutarch’s argument against Democritus serves purely polemical purposes, (2) Plutarch does not fully understand the theoretical force and import of geometric atomism, (3) he disposes of a more sophisticated account of geometric atomism, including assumptions unknown to us that save the model from the objections directed at Democritus. 3. The first items to enter matter In his commentary on Aristotle’s De caelo, Simplicius introduces geometric atomism and mentions an Aristotelian view according to which the first forms to enter matter are the four qualities of hot, cold, dry, and wet8. He rejects this interpretation in favour of what he calls the Pythagorean view, which maintains that basic triangles are the first forms in matter (he holds Plato and Timaeus to be Pythagoreans). Plutarch appears to hold a similar view. In De animae procreatione in Timaeo, he claims that the demiurge uses limits when ordering matter, “by bounding and circumscribing its dispersiveness and incoherence with the surfaces made of the triangles fitted together.”9 Here, the demiurge is said to use the surfaces out of which the polyhedra are formed in order to impose limits on matter. It is remarkable that Plutarch does not speak of the primary triangles as being that which first limits matter (it may be somewhat confusing that most of these complex surfaces are themselves triangular; however, they are composites and, therefore, different from primary triangles). I am not sure whether this carries any great weight. In the late Neoplatonic interpretation given by Proclus and Simplicius, but also in the much earlier text attributed to Timaeus Locrus, primary triangles are hylomorphic

8

Simplicius, in Cael. 564,13–24. De an. procr. 22,1023C4–6: τὸ σκεδαστὸν αὐτῆς καὶ ἀσύνδετον ὁρίζων καὶ περιλαμβάνων ταῖς ἐκ τῶν τριγώνων συναρμοττομένων ἐπιφανείαις. Trans. H. Cherniss. Compare Alcinous, Did. 169,4–5: τούτοις οὖν [sc. the polyhedra] ἡ ὕλη τυπωθεῖσα. 9

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

33

elements. By defining them as hylomorphic, these authors could disarm the majority of Aristotle’s criticisms10. Does Plutarch think that the demiurge first put complex surfaces together and only then introduced them into matter? This is possible, but the evidence is meagre. The Lamprias Catalogue contains the title of a work in which Plutarch, if he was indeed its author, would have dealt precisely with this and related issues: How did matter participate in the forms? That it produces the first bodies (Lampr. Cat. 68: Πῶς ἡ ὕλη τῶν ἰδεῶν μετείληφεν; ὅτι τὰ πρῶτα σώματα ποιεῖ). The answer indicated in the title suggests that the first forms of which matter participates are indeed those that constitute the first bodies. I take this to mean that the combination of prime matter with geometric forms produce the first bodies, i.e. probably the polyhedric elements. Now, one could suspect that the first bodies are primary triangles; this position is maintained by Proclus and Simplicius. One could also think that these first bodies are the complex surfaces that will later become the faces of the polyhedra. Plutarch most likely does not ascribe to either of these positions, but rather holds the first bodies to be corpuscles constituted of matter in polyhedric shapes. Making triangles or surfaces the first bodies would probably mean that they would have to be three-dimensional. Strictly speaking, they would not be triangles, but prisms. That this is not an impossible interpretation is shown by Pseudo-Timaeus Locrus, who probably predates Plutarch and may have been the first to propose a hylomorphic reading of Plato’s theory of the elements. The passage from De animae procreatione, however, is more easily understood as saying that the demiurge imposes form on matter, the forms being the complex surfaces, put together beforehand out of primary triangles, or possibly these triangles themselves. Since Plutarch is committed to a literal interpretation of the chronology of Timaeus’ account, the first entrance of forms into matter can be understood as, indeed, the chronologically first entrance of mathematical forms into matter11. This would not prevent him from maintaining that the floating triangles resulting from the destruction of polyhedra, at a later stage, are material bodies, namely fragments of the first bodies.

10

For Proclus and Simplicius, see Opsomer (2012). For Timaeus Locrus, see Ulacco – Opsomer (2014). 11 I refrain from discussing Plutarch’s interpretation of the disordered state of the elements prior to generation of the world, characterised by the absence of geometric regularities. See De facie 12–13; De an. procr. 9; 27. For discussion of these passages, see Bram Demulder’s contribution to this volume.

34

JAN OPSOMER

4. The principle of cold (De primo frigido): The philosophical approach to the elements The Principle of Cold, an essay masked as a letter to Favorinus, opens with the central question: is there a first power and substance of cold, or is cold rather a privation? If there is a principle of cold, this should be the primary cold. Other things that are cold, then, should be cold through the presence of the primary cold in (or near?) them, or put differently, through their participation in the primary cold12. The language is that of the relation between particulars and Platonic Forms. That does not mean, though, that the principle in question has the ontological status of a Form (unchanging, eternal, non-sensible). While it could, it is equally possible that its relation to particulars is merely analogous. The author expressly leaves open the question as to whether such a principle, if there is one, should be a thing – a ‘substance’ –, or rather a power – presumably a dispositional causal property inherent in a substance. Plutarch is equally non-committal about the exact nature of the relation: the suggestion of alternative descriptions – presence/vicinity (παρουσία) or participation (μετοχή) – is reminiscent of Socrates’ hesitancy to specify the relation between Forms and particulars in Plato’s Phaedo13. Since Plutarch uses the connective ‘and’ (καί), he appears to regard both descriptions as equally valid. The two basic options regarding the central question – principle or privation – are illustrated by the analogies of fire as a principle of warmth, on the one hand, and darkness and rest as examples of privations, on the other. For both heat and cold, Plutarch uses the expressions “principle of X” (ἀρχή14 + genitive) or “the primarily X” (τὸ πρώτως + adjective). It is presupposed that the primarily X, if it exists, is one of the four elements. In this case, the element would constitute the highest degree of X. What Plutarch means by “the primarily hot/cold” or the “principle of hot/cold” is nothing other than, what Galen later calls, “the body possessing the quality to the highest degree” (τὸ τὴν ἄκραν ποιότητα δεδεγμένον σῶμα). Galen rather usefully distinguishes this from, on the one hand, the mere quality and, on the other, the name that a body receives from a predominant quality – for instance, when we call something ‘wet’ because it is more wet than dry (the difference between the second and the third meaning being that the second refers to the quality itself, the third 12

De prim. frig. 945F1–6: Ἔστι τις ἆρα τοῦ ψυχροῦ δύναμις, ὦ Φαβωρῖνε, πρώτη καὶ οὐσία, καθάπερ τοῦ θερμοῦ τὸ πῦρ, ἧς παρουσίᾳ τινὶ καὶ μετοχῇ γίνεται τῶν ἄλλων ἕκαστον ψυχρόν; ἢ μᾶλλον ἡ ψυχρότης στέρησίς ἐστι θερμότητος ὥσπερ τοῦ φωτὸς τὸ σκότος λέγουσι καὶ τῆς κινήσεως τὴν στάσιν; 13 Plato, Phd. 100d5–6: εἴτε παρουσία εἴτε κοινωνία εἴτε ὅπῃ δὴ καὶ ὅπως προσαγορευομένη. 14 Or also πηγή (947B7).

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

35

to the body possessing that quality). For Galen, the bodies receiving the four basic Aristotelian qualities are the traditional four elements15. Before Plutarch can accept such a view, he must first decide as to whether cold is indeed one of the basic qualities in nature and then see whether it can plausibly be linked to one of the elements. This would then be the element possessing the extreme degree of cold as its essential quality16. Plutarch never seriously calls into question the link between basic qualities and elements. That is, if qualities are real qualities and not merely privations and if they are simple and not themselves derived from other qualities17, they belong to an element. Natural questions 29 offers an interesting parallel to the first lines of The Principle of Cold: Plutarch rejects the possibility that cold is merely a privation. He does not really say, but suggests, that it is a power, on a par with heat18. The use of the term ‘power’ (δύναμις), in both texts, is interesting. Heat and, possibly, cold are not simply inert properties or effects of causal processes; they are themselves producers of different effects19. In Natural questions 29, this appears to be true of heat and cold as properties of ordinary things – secondary heat and cold – whereas the opening question of The Principle of Cold pertains to the character of a substance or power of the primary cold, if there is such a thing. On Primary Cold consists of two parts: first, Plutarch examines whether cold is a privation or, rather, a positive power, and secondly, he discusses with what element the first cold should be identified. The letter ends with an appeal to a conditional suspension of judgment. In the first part, he argues for the same position as the one adopted in the Natural Questions: cold is not just the absence of heat, but a power in its own right, specifically, a power contrary to heat20. In the second part, Plutarch attempts to identify the principle of this power and he examines various candidates. That there is such a principle does not simply follow from the

15 Hipp. Elem. 1,6,464,11–15: ἥκει γοῦν ἀξιῶν ἡμᾶς ὁμώνυμα νοῆσαι τὰ θερμά, ἓν μὲν ὡς ποιότητα, καθάπερ τὸ λευκὸν χρῶμα, δεύτερον δὲ τὸ τὴν ἄκραν ποιότητα δεδεγμένον σῶμα καὶ τρίτον, ὃ τῆς τοιαύτης ἐπικρατήσει ποιότητος. 476,8–14; Temp. 1,1,510,3–15; HNH 1,14,51,9–52,2. Compare Plato, Phd. 103c11–d4. 16 There may be other bodies that possess cold as an essential quality, for instance snow (cf. Phd. 103c11–13), but these would not be simple bodies and would not possess the extreme degree of coldness. 17 Compare Aristotle, GC 2,2,330a24–29. 18 Quaest. nat. 29,919A13–B1: Οὐ γάρ, ὡς ἔνιοι νομίζουσιν, ἡ μὲν θερμότης δύναμίς ἐστιν ἡ δὲ ψυχρότης στέρησις θερμότητος, ἐπεὶ πλειόνων αἴτιον ἐφαίνετο τὸ μὴ ὂν τοῦ ὄντος. For further discussion of Quaest. nat. 29, see Michiel Meeusen’s contribution to this volume. 19 Cf. Quaest. nat. 29,919B2–3. 20 This appears to be also Plato’s view: cf., e.g., Ti. 33a3–4 (θερμὰ καὶ ψυχρὰ καὶ πάνθ’ ὅσα δυνάμεις ἰσχυρὰς ἔχει περιιστάμενα ἔξωθεν); Lg. 10,899b6–c1.

36

JAN OPSOMER

intermediary conclusion. There are a few underlying assumptions. If cold is a positive property of its own, then coldness as a property of ordinary things must be derived from some primary cold, or to put it differently, there must be a principle of cold. A further assumption is that the principle of cold should be one of the four elements. He justifies this by the fact that there is a general agreement among the schools in linking the opposite property, heat, to an element. He even identifies primary heat with fire21. There was apparently no such agreement in the Platonic schools on the existence and possible identity of a principle of cold. This was still an unsolved problem and fodder for debates in Platonic circles, since Plato had not established an unambiguous link between a material element and coldness22. In the Timaeus, Plato gives a rather complex explanation of how the affection of coldness comes to be23. Plutarch starts from the assumption that there is one and only one element that unvaryingly instantiates the property ‘cold’ and looks for the element that has the highest degree of cold (whether that element is anything apart from this quality is another matter – further on, Plutarch states that coldness is a property of the element). And since there are only four elements in the physical world24, it has to be one of those that carries this basic property. Since fire, as a bearer of the opposite quality, is ruled out, we are left with three candidates. Plutarch examines the qualifications of air, water and earth, in that order, and settles for earth as being the most plausible candidate. He stresses, however, that certainty in this domain cannot be obtained. Plutarch’s discussion in De primo frigido is couched in Aristotelian language. J. Glucker has even called the style of the work mockAristotelian25. The whole approach to the issue of material elements and properties is strongly influenced by Aristotle’s theory. This can be seen in Plutarch’s association of primary qualities with individual elements. In the Timaeus, Plato avoids making cold the property or the effect of a single element, but even for heat, the matter is not straightforward. He does establish a clear link between the action of fire and heat, but if one looks more closely, heat is not a simple monadic property, but rather the effect

21

In the last part of the work aether is mentioned as the primarily hot (De prim. frig. 955A5–6). Probably aether is regarded as a species of fire. 22 Cf. R. 1,335d3: Οὐ γὰρ θερμότητος οἶμαι ἔργον ψύχειν ἀλλὰ τοῦ ἐναντίου. Ti. 62b4–5 (cf. Alcinous, Did. 175,5–12). Apparently Plutarch’s treatise did not settle the matter: Plotinus, 4,7[2]4,28–29 (οὐ γὰρ πυρὸς τὸ ψύχειν, οὐδὲ τοῦ ψυχροῦ θερμὰ ποιεῖν); 4,3[27]10,30–31 (πυρὸς μὲν γὰρ θερμὰ ποιεῖν, καὶ τὸ ψύχειν ἄλλου). 23 Plato, Ti. 62a5–b6. Cf. Taylor (1928) 432. 24 De prim. frig. 947D10. 25 Glucker (1978) 286–290.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

37

of the interaction of corpuscles of different types. In the first account of the elements, fire is linked to visibility (Ti. 31b5)26. In the second geometric account, though, Plato at first admits that fire is said to be warm (61d6: ᾗ πῦρ θερμὸν λέγομεν), but goes on to explain that heat is an effect of fire’s ability to cut other bodies. Its cutting power is due to the shape of its corpuscles, which makes it, more than the other primary bodies, able to cut (61d6–62a5). Moreover, not all fire burns (58c5–7). The influence of an Aristotelian approach on Plutarch’s theory of the elements in The Principle of Cold can also be witnessed in other Platonic texts from the same era; Timaeus Locrus comes to mind. It is also characteristic of Plutarch’s treatment of natural questions in other works (the Quaestiones convivales, passages in the Delphic dialogues, and especially the Quaestiones naturales). However, it does not prevent Plutarch from espousing geometric atomism as the underlying framework. This becomes clear right at the beginning of the second part (chs 8–12). Plutarch says that he considers the question of whether there is a nature of heat and cold to be closed and moves on to the issue of the “substance, principle and nature of coldness” (οὐσία καὶ ἀρχὴ καὶ φύσις ψυχρότητος)27. He starts off with those who affirm that there are “scalene and triangular formations lying [or: shaking] in the/our bodies.”28 This is a rather imprecise reference to geometric atomism. Plato takes a specific type of scalene, namely the half-equilateral, as one basic triangle, and the isosceles (half-square) as the other. The thinkers mentioned here by Plutarch use the triangles in the explanation of “that shivering and trembling, shuddering and phenomena resembling these” (τὸ ῥιγοῦν καὶ τρέμειν καὶ φρίττειν καὶ ὅσα συγγενῆ τοῖς πάθεσι τούτοις), which they say proceed from a rough irregularity (ὑπὸ τραχύτητος ἐγγίνεσθαι λέγοντες)29. This clearly echoes Plato’s Timaeus, which mentions trembling and shivering in the account of coldness, and then more generally takes up ‘this experience as a whole’ (Plato adds that both the experience and 26

Plutarch paraphrases Timaeus’s first account (Ti. 31b4–32c4) in De fort. Rom. 316E10–F5, yet not quite accurately: earth is said to provide weight and stability, fire colour and motion (in the Timaeus earth provides tangibility, fire visibility); the two intermediary elements “smoothen the extremities, unite them and spread out matter through them”. 27 De prim. frig. 948A10–12. 28 De prim. frig. 948A12–B1: τῶν σκαληνῶν καὶ τριγωνοειδῶν σχηματισμῶν ἐν τοῖς σώμασι κειμένων (Sandbach has suggested σειομένων, which corresponds to Ti. 62a4, τῷ σεισμῷ, and can be connected to τὸ ῥιγοῦν καὶ τρέμειν καὶ φρίττειν which the triangles are supposed to explain). The “bodies” mentioned by Plutarch could be human bodies, as in Cherniss’s translation, or just material bodies in general. The context of human or animal sensation is suggested by the explanandum, the shivering and trembling that is going on. 29 De prim. frig. 948B2–4.

38

JAN OPSOMER

what causes it go by the name of ‘cold’)30. Plato’s explanation for this phenomenon is quite elaborate and complex. The ‘roughness’ appealed to here certainly does not do it justice. Maybe that is why in the following part of the same sentence Plutarch utters a mild criticism of this view: some of the details may be wrong (εἰ καὶ τοῖς κατὰ μέρος διαμαρτάνουσι, B4). Another detail that Plutarch may believe to be wrong is the appeal to scalene triangles or to scalene triangles alone, although it is not clear that this is not just a vague way of invoking the account of the triangles in general. Plutarch will argue that earth is the most likely candidate for the title ‘principle of cold’, and earth, as he well knows, is supposed to correspond to the hexahedron, which is built not from scalene triangles, but from four isosceles triangles arranged in such a way that they make up a square. Thus, his criticism may be directed at Platonists, or perhaps people from his own circle, who use geometric atomism to develop a comprehensive corpuscular explanation of coldness31. Plato’s account may indeed be more elaborate than what Plutarch gives us here, but it can hardly qualify as a satisfying explanation of the whole phenomenon, as it discusses only some effects upon the human body. We cannot be completely sure, however, that the mild criticism is not addressed at Plato himself. This would be strange, though, since Plutarch hardly ever openly deviates from Plato. Therefore, I have argued elsewhere that it is more likely that Plutarch here appeals to a later elaboration of a school problem that makes use of Plato’s theory32. There is, however, another possible interpretation. Perhaps the words “even if they are mistaken about details” do not imply any criticism, not even a mild one, but merely echo the caution expressed by Plato himself. Geometric atomism never claimed to offer more than a likely account. Timaeus attempts to produce an account “that is not less likely than any other, but instead more likely” (Ti. 48c2–e1). He declares to have described what he thinks are the most beautiful triangles, but says he would not be cross if someone came up with a better proposal (54a4–5; b1–2). These statements do not imply any uncertainty regarding the explanatory model, but rather about details of the account33. At any rate, even if Plutarch does offer a mild criticism, it is vastly outweighed by his praise. He states that, “even if these people are 30 Plato, Ti. 62b4–6: τῇ δὴ μάχῃ καὶ τῷ σεισμῷ τούτῳ τρόμος καὶ ῥῖγος ἐτέθη, ψυχρόν τε τὸ πάθος ἅπαν τοῦτο καὶ τὸ δρῶν αὐτὸ ἔσχεν ὄνομα. 31 In the spirit of the exercise set at Ti. 79e10–80c8 and solved in Plutarch’s seventh Platonic question. See esp. Quaest. Plat. 7,2,1004E5–10. 32 Opsomer (1998) 217. 33 Cf. Opsomer (2012) 149–150. See also Johansen (2004) 63 and Bryan (2012) 176, who distinguish eikos mythos from eikos logos, claiming that only the first is within human reach.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

39

mistaken about details, they take the principle from the proper place”, as the place from which they take it would be “the substance of the whole” (possibly even “the substance of the elements”, if one takes the expression τῶν ὅλων as an allusion to Ti. 33a7, ἕνα ὅλον ὅλων ἐξ ἁπάντων)34. The one who looks for this kind of principle adopts the truly philosophical perspective. The practice of the philosopher is contrasted with that of technicians (τῷ τεχνίτῃ), such as physicians, farmers and flute-players, or anyone who can focus on the immediate causes of the effects that they want to bring about35. They know from experience which features regularly accompany other features, which suffices for manipulating the relevant objects. In order to be able to do so, they need not go beyond the level of sense-perception, or rather that of experience based on remembered perceptions36. Plutarch distinguishes the immediate causes, readily accessible to the senses (τὰ ἔσχατα τῶν αἰτίων / τὸ ἐγγυτάτω τοῦ πάθους αἴτιον), from the remote causes (τὰ πρῶτα καὶ ἀνωτάτω, 948B8–C2). The technician is content with the former, whereas they are merely a point of departure for the true lover of knowledge. The natural philosopher (948B7–8: ὁ φιλόσοφος, C2: τῷ φυσικῷ) indeed desires knowledge for the sake of knowledge (C2–3: θεωρίας ἕνεκα μετιόντι τἀληθές). Next, Plutarch identifies this quest for higher principles with, what we call, the atomism of Plato and Democritus. These thinkers do not stop their investigation at sense-perceptible items such as earth and fire as causes of heaviness and heat, but rather carry their research further towards principles that are higher, smaller or smaller in number (τῶν ἐλαχίστων), that are only accessible to the mind, i.e. intelligible (νοητὰς ἀρχάς), and that are the ‘seeds’37 (ὥσπερ σπερμάτων) of material bodies38. This identification of the smaller with the ontologically higher is borrowed from Plato (see above). Plutarch moreover calls these principles ‘intelligible’39. This could of

34 De prim. frig. 948A12–B8: οἱ μὲν οὖν, τῶν σκαληνῶν καὶ τριγωνοειδῶν σχηματισμῶν ἐν τοῖς σώμασι κειμένων, τὸ ῥιγοῦν καὶ τρέμειν καὶ φρίττειν καὶ ὅσα συγγενῆ τοῖς πάθεσι τούτοις ὑπὸ τραχύτητος ἐγγίνεσθαι λέγοντες, εἰ καὶ τοῖς κατὰ μέρος διαμαρτάνουσι, τὴν ἀρχὴν ὅθεν δεῖ λαμβάνουσι· δεῖ γὰρ ὥσπερ ἀφ’ ἑστίας τῆς τῶν ὅλων οὐσίας ἄρχεσθαι τὴν ζήτησιν. 35 De prim. frig. 948B6–C2. 36 Plutarch does not mention either experience or memory here, but a comparison with Aristotle, Metaph. A1,980b25–981a24 shows that this is the context he has in mind (and he probably knew the first book of the Metaphysics; cf. Donini (1994) 5075–5082). Both Aristotle and Plutarch mention fever as an object of technê. Aristotle specifies that there is a difference between technê and experience, consisting in the fact that technê is knowledge of the universal, whereas mere experience is about the particular. See also APo B19,99b35–100a9. 37 Cf. DK 59 Anaxagoras B4,5–8. 38 De prim. frig. 948C4–8. 39 He could infer this from Ti. 51c5.

40

JAN OPSOMER

course merely mean that the triangles and polyhedra, falling below the threshold of perception, can only be grasped or posited by the mind. Yet the explicit Platonic opposition between the sensible and the intelligible suggests a stronger reading: these higher principles, in casu the geometric shapes, belong to a different ontological realm, which is exactly why they are higher. This corroborates my suspicion that, for Plutarch, the triangles and complex surfaces are not immediately conceived as hylomorphic; they have a primary intelligible existence. Only when they have been introduced into matter and assembled into polyhedra do they form the first hylomorphic compounds. Immediately following upon his recommendation of Plato’s and Democritus’s atomism, Plutarch declares that it is nevertheless better to first approach things that are perceptible to the senses; to discuss the ‘substances underlying the powers’ which Empedocles, Strato, and the Stoics40 posit as the first cold, namely air and water. To this, Plutarch adds earth as a further possibility. In the final chapters of the work, he discusses the principle of cold at the level of the sense-perceptible, according to the traditional description of the elements in qualitative terms. This explains the otherwise unexpected conclusion of the treatise. There, Plutarch encourages the addressee of his text to conditionally suspend judgment. Favorinus, says Plutarch, should compare what has been said with what others have said. Then comes the following condition: if Plutarch’s statements are neither less plausible nor much more plausible than those of others. This is then followed by a bit of advice accompanied by a justification: do not ascribe to received opinions (δόξας); it is more philosophical to suspend judgment in non-evident issues than to give one’s assent41. This appeal to the suspension of judgment is neither universal – for restricted to the non-evident, the principle of cold being one such example – nor unconditional. The condition is interesting, though, particularly if we compare it with what Plato says about the status to which his own account aspires; that is, to be more likely than rivalling accounts (Ti. 48d3: μηδενὸς ἧττον εἰκότα, μᾶλλον δέ). Plutarch advocates suspension even if his statements are equally plausible or slightly more plausible than that of his colleagues. If they are much more plausible, however, suspension does not appear to be required. He leaves it up to Favorinus and his other readers to decide which of these conditions apply. My own

40

De prim. frig. 948C9–D2: Οὐ μὴν ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ αἰσθητὰ ταυτὶ προανακινῆσαι βέλτιόν ἐστιν, ἐν οἷς Ἐμπεδοκλῆς τε καὶ Στράτων καὶ οἱ Στωικοὶ τὰς οὐσίας τίθενται τῶν δυνάμεων, οἱ μὲν Στωικοὶ τῷ ἀέρι τὸ πρώτως ψυχρὸν ἀποδιδόντες, Ἐμπεδοκλῆς δὲ καὶ Στράτων τῷ ὕδατι. 41 De prim. frig. 955C8–11: Ταῦτ’, ὦ Φαβωρῖνε, τοῖς εἰρημένοις ὑφ’ ἑτέρων παράβαλλε· κἂν μήτε λείπηται τῇ πιθανότητι μήθ’ ὑπερέχῃ πολύ, χαίρειν ἔα τὰς δόξας, τὸ ἐπέχειν ἐν τοῖς ἀδήλοις τοῦ συγκατατίθεσθαι φιλοσοφώτερον ἡγούμενος.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

41

judgment would be that Plutarch wants us to think of the preceding statements as slightly more plausible than the alternatives, but not enough to avoid suspension of judgment. The main reason is that he has abandoned the philosophical approach commended in chapter eight in favour of an approach that is restricted to immediate causes. As I gather, he does not extend this appeal to suspend judgment to the conclusion of the first part, nor to geometric atomism as an explanatory model42, since the latter would be much more plausible and aims at the true causes. While it could be wrong about particulars, it is sound as an overall model. One could object that geometric atomism is still deficient as a causal model since the explanation it offers is limited to, what Aristotle calls, the material causes and does not include the teleological explanation in terms of the good to be achieved43. This objection, however, can be overcome, insofar as beauty, purposefulness and goodness are central to geometric atomism as developed by Plato. The demiurge has chosen the most beautiful structures, which are also those that ensure that material interactions obey mathematical regularities and contribute to the good of the world. It is certainly remarkable that Plutarch names Plato and Democritus in one breath and equally lavishes them with praise. In this way, he recognises the similarity between their theories of material qualities. Contrary to Aristotle, who defines the four sublunary elements by combinations of the qualities hot/cold-dry/wet and claims that they are infinitely divisible, Democritus and Plato posit the existence of microscopic corpuscles with a limited number of base properties, most of which can be described in purely mathematical terms: they have a certain shape, size44, and they enter into objective configurations. In addition to that, they are solid, i.e. they resist colocation. Other properties, such as phenomenal properties of macroscopic bodies, are denied of atoms: they have no colour, taste, flavour or temperature. According to Democritus, the latter qualities are merely conventional45, whereas Plato does not say that they do not exist, but develops a model according to which they supervene on subjacent properties. Plato and Democritus are thus both set against Aristotle. As we will see later, Plutarch criticises the Epicurean account of the elements, although it is based on Democritus’s. He also criticises the Epicurean criticism of Democritus. He even claims that the supervenience of

42

Compare Donini (1986) 212; Battegazzore (1992) 19, 22, 43. For Plutarch’s theory of dual causality, cf. Per. 6,4–5; Nic. 23; De def. or. 435E– 436A; Plato, Ti. 68e6–69a5; Donini (1992) 103. 44 Epicurus’s atoms have weight, for Democritus this is less clear. Cf. Kechagia (2011) 210; O’Brien (1981). 45 According to Castagnoli (2013), Democritus would allow a description according to which they supervene on elemental properties and interactions of complex structures. 43

42

JAN OPSOMER

secondary qualities is untenable, although he himself should be committed to a similar view. Before looking at this problem, I will first summarily discuss some further texts in which Plutarch mentions geometric atomism. 5. Exegetical issues: Platonic question 5 The fifth Platonic question contains a succinct account of Plato’s theory of the elements. Plutarch asks why Plato only uses rectilinear figures in the Timaeus46. Still while sketching the problem, Plutarch explains that the principles (ἀρχαί) of rectilinear bodies are two triangles: the rightangled isosceles (the half-square) and the scalene (more precisely the half-equilateral). The cube, the element (στοιχεῖον) of earth, is formed from the isosceles; the pyramid, octahedron and icosahedron from the scalene, becoming the seeds (σπέρμα) of fire, air, and water, respectively. Triangles are thus called principles. The part-whole relations between the triangles and the polyhedra are expressed in terms of composition (the verb συνίστημι), the relation between the polyhedra and the traditional elements by the terms ‘element’ (στοιχεῖον) and ‘seed’ (σπέρμα)47. Plutarch lists several answers. Although the first solution, which assigns the fifth regular polyhedron, the dodecahedron, to the spherical48, cannot be considered to present Plutarch’s own views, the wording of the question provides an insight into his conception of the general framework. The author gives precise information about the angles, and then makes a blatant mistake: the pentagons used to put together the dodecahedron, he claims, themselves consist of thirty primary scalene triangles (ἐκ τριάκοντα τῶν πρώτων σκαληνῶν τριγώνων συνέστηκε, 1003D3–8). It is mathematically impossible to construct a regular pentagon out of halfequilateral scalenes, the only type of scalene that Plato recognizes as primary. The striking feature is that Plutarch knows this, and still allows this error to be a part of the first suggested solution. Elsewhere, I have argued that he did so deliberately, as the quaestiones are dialectical texts in which errors, if corrected, serve didactic aims49. This is very clear in De defectu oraculorum, where the same mistake is made in an account that presents Theodorus of Soloi’s exegesis of Plato. Theodorus (date unknown) uses Plato’s geometric atomism in order to account for elemental change, but expands the theory to the dodecahedron, ignoring the 46

Quaest. Plat. 1003B10–C4. In the account of the theory of Theodorus of Soloi, too, σπέρμα and στοιχεῖον are used for the constitutive relation between polyhedra and the traditional elements. The single corpuscles are there explicitly designated as bodies (σώματα): De def. or. 427C10–D9. 48 Quaest. Plat. 1003C8–9. 49 Opsomer (2011). 47

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

43

fact that this is mathematically impossible (De def. or. 427A5–E3). Later in the dialogue, Ammonius points out the mistake (428A8–11)50, as well as the even more glaring mistake – because it goes directly against what Plato himself explains – of allowing transformations between the elements of the cube and those of the other polyhedra (427E–428A). 6. Exegetical issues: De defectu oraculorum § 22–37,421E–431A We have already had an opportunity to mention the large digression on the number of worlds in De defectu oraculorum. This comprises a secondhand report on an exegesis of Plato’s mathematics attributed to Theodorus of Soli51. What interests us here, besides the mistake concerning the ultimate constituents of the dodecahedron, is that Theodorus provides an account of elemental transformation. Theodorus also stresses the beauty of the five polyhedra, due to symmetries and equalities (427A7–11). By discussing all five, assigning each of them to one of the elements, he already goes beyond the Timaeus. Theodorus’s claim that the five “cannot come to be together out of the same matter” (427B5–6) is interesting because it implicitly gives a hylomorphic reading of the polyhedra; that is, they consist of matter and form. Since Plutarch nowhere comments on this assumption, it is likely that he shares it (whether he also considers the triangles as hylomorphic bodies, is not clear: see above). Despite appearances, Theodorus’s claim is not that there is a different type of matter for each of the five polyhedra. Rather, he wants to say that they cannot come about simultaneously: the smaller elements will form more easily and therefore sooner; or, rather, they will ‘respond quicker’ to the demiurge who moves and shapes matter (427B6–11). The reference to matter is apparently connected to the idea of five worlds (427C2–5). Theodorus may have in mind that each world has a different type of matter, each type of matter being conducive to the generation of a specific polyhedron52. If that is what he means, an objection later raised by Ammonius would be beside the point. Ammonius objects that the tetrahedron would be the smallest particle in every world and, therefore, the first to form (427E5–F1). Presumably, Plutarch’s report is inaccurate by making smallness the sole criterion in his eagerness to refute Theodorus. 50 Alcinous, Did. 168,40–169,4, shows greater care: he explicitly connects the other regular solids with the two ‘Platonic’ primary triangles, but wisely refrains from doing the same in the case of the dodecahedron. 51 De def. or. 427A5–7: Θεόδωρος ὁ Σολεὺς […] ἐξηγούμενος τὰ μαθηματικὰ τοῦ Πλάτωνος. 52 In fact, Ammonius’s objection points in this direction. Cf. De def. or. 427E10–11: τὸ μὴ πᾶσαν ὕλην πρῶτον εἰσφέρειν τὸ λεπτότατον καὶ ἁπλούστατον.

44

JAN OPSOMER

Be that as it may, Theodorus also needs a story about the transformations of the elements. Otherwise, each world would count as just a single element. Plutarch, or rather his narrator Lamprias, attributes the view to him that, as soon as one figure is formed, the others can be formed from its parts, through association 53. Theodorus apparently holds that transformations take place between all elements (427C3–5), disregarding the fact that the polyhedra are not made from the same building blocks. Nevertheless, Theodorus’s account of the transformations is quite interesting. First, he gives a qualitative description: air is formed when fire is quenched and fire is formed when air is rarefied. This being the case (ἐπεί), “we must observe the affects of each of the seeds and their transmutations” (427D1–2: ἐν τοῖς ἑκατέροις σπέρμασι τὰ πάθη δεῖ θεᾶσθαι καὶ τὰς μεταβολάς). In other words, Theodorus starts from a phenomenal description that he obviously regards as valid. He then looks at a causal explanation at a deeper level, namely, at the level of the ‘seeds’, the polyhedra. The pyramid contains 24 primary triangles and the octahedron comprises the double of that, 48 (each of the triangular faces of these polyhedra is indeed composed of 6 primary triangles). Therefore, one corpuscle of air can dissolve and recombine into two fire particles, whilst two fire particles may combine into one air particle (D2–8). Air, when compressed, can combine into the ‘form of water’ (D8–9). Here Plutarch does not give us the calculation, possibly because it is somewhat more complex: two and a half air corpuscles could combine into one particle of water, or alternatively, one water particle could form out of two air particles combined with one fire particle. It should be noted that according to this report, Theodorus has understood that the qualitative description in terms of evaporation, condensation, and quenching can be explained at a deeper level, specifically, through the associations and dissociations of the primary triangles. Plutarch refutes some parts of Theodorus’s reconstruction, but probably agrees on the general idea of the transformations and their hylomorphic understanding. 7. Five elements: De E 389F3–390A10 The idea that five elements are assigned to five worlds, with five types of polyhedra constituting the five elements, is briefly mentioned in the dialogue on the Delphic E, as part of the encomium of the number five. 8. The metaphysical generation of bodies and properties: Platonic question 3,1 In the third Platonic question, Plutarch mentions a system of metaphysical derivation according to which the monad, through its union with the 53

De def. or. 427C3–4: κατὰ σύγκρισιν (add. Turnebus) μέρων.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

45

indefinite dyad, produces number and then proceeds to points, lines, surfaces, depths, bodies, and properties of bodies successively54. Bodies are said to come after the ‘depths’ (βάθη), but it is not clear what distinguishes them. My best guess is that ‘depths’ are mathematical bodies, and that physical bodies have matter. Interestingly, qualitative properties (ποιότητες) are said to come about when bodies are subjected to affections, i.e. undergo modifications (1002A7: σωμάτων ποιότητας ἐν πάθεσι γιγνομένων). This view clearly puts bodies before qualities and apparently lets qualities supervene on interactions between bodies. It could very well be derived from Plato’s Timaeus. However, the doctrine as reported here cannot be safely attributed to Plutarch, for it is part of a dialectical argument, probably borrowed from another source55. Moreover, this alone will not provide an adequate solution to the problem discussed in this part of the Quaestio. At any rate, this sequence of bodies and properties is less compatible with an Aristotelian account of the elements, where the fundamental properties – hot and cold, dry and wet – are presented as constitutive of bodies. 9. Against Colotes chapters 8–9: criticism of Democritean/Epicurean supervenience and comparison with Plato Plutarch’s polemic with Colotes regarding Democritus is quite complex. Colotes blames Democritus for making life impossible. Plutarch’s main concern in this section is not to defend Democritus, but rather to turn the tables and argue that the Epicureans, in fact, make life impossible as they are committed to the same tenets as the victim of their attacks. Indeed, they uphold the very same premises they criticise in Democritus. For our present purpose, only the remarks concerning the theory of the elements are of concern. Plutarch is aware of the fact that Epicurus, at least for a long time, identified himself as a Democritean and that he acknowledged Democritus as being “the first to hit upon the principles of natural philosophy” (1108E3–10). Plutarch’s criticism of the supervenience of qualities in Epicurean physics gains considerable poignancy in the light of his own commitment to a very similar model; that is, to Plato’s geometric account of the elements. As we have seen, he is not unaware of the fact that according to Plato’s model, secondary phenomenal qualities causally depend, to some degree, on the base properties of the elemental particles in their

54

Quaest. Plat. 1002A4–8. There are strong similarities between Plutarch’s sequence and a doctrine attributed to the Pythagoreans (Nicomachus in Ps.-Iamblichus, Theol. arithm. 74,8–15, who attributes a similar doctrine to Philolaus; Proclus, in Tim. 2,270,5–9; 3,328,13–16). 55

46

JAN OPSOMER

complex interactions. This appears from his report on Theodorus’s exegesis. Furthermore, Plutarch thinks that geometric forms56, presumably stereometric forms as I have argued, are the first to enter matter, thereby producing the first bodies. Plutarch more precisely criticises the idea that “a quality F comes into existence from principles which are not F and are themselves changeless” as L. Castagnoli correctly observes, adding that “that prejudgement is deeply rooted in Platonist doctrine and in the non-atomistic tradition of the physics of sensible properties mentioned above.”57 This is the one point on which I disagree with Castagnoli. He probably has the traditional Platonic idea in mind that qualitative properties of sensible objects come about because sensible objects participate in Forms, defined in qualitative terms. That picture, however, disregards geometric atomism, which adds a level of complexity to Plato’s account. Geometric atomism amounts to a supervenience model, just like that of Epicurus’s atomism. According to this model, qualities are produced bottom-up from the geometric properties of single particles, their configurations and interactions58. The Timaeus shows that it is possible to explain how something can be coloured, for instance, from the geometric properties of the elementary corpuscles. To be sure, if one wants to explain at the same time how the same property is the result of participation in an idea, some additional account is in order. Plato does not say how that could be done, possibly because geometric atomism is meant to replace the idea that material qualities come about through participation in synonymous forms59, or maybe because he had not yet integrated both models. For ancient Platonists, who as a rule were committed to a strongly unitarian reading of Plato, none of these explanations would be satisfying. For them, the obvious way to go would be to explain that the demiurge has arranged things in such a way that, in order for there to be certain properties, matter needs to be organised in such a way that it produces this property. According to this model, the demiurge introduces geometric forms into

56 Ferrari (2005) 244 calls these geometric forms ‘secondary intelligibles’. Cf. Alcinous, Did. 162,15: διὰ τὸ ἀμυδρότερα εἶναι [sc. τὰ μαθήματα] τῶν πρώτων νοητῶν. 57 Castagnoli (2013) § 61. 58 I shall disregard the further complexities caused by relational properties and properties in perception, as well as the difficulties related to the relative character of perceived qualities. See Castagnoli (2013). Epicurus acknowledges that some qualities, for instance colour, are relative to the perceiver: see Adv. Col. ch. 7. These issues do not pose a fundamental problem for Plato’s theory as so-called qualities do not supervene on single geometric qualities, but on relations between different (intrinsic and dispositional) qualities. Perceptional qualities are just a special case of this. 59 Cf. Rashed (2012).

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

47

matter – the first items to enter matter. Subsequently, their properties, through interactions, produce the required qualitative properties. These would then be the second type of forms to enter matter. As far as we know, however, Plutarch simply adopted the model of the Timaeus without trying to integrate it into the participation model. Let us now take a closer look at the steps of the argument of chapters 8 and 9: 1. Plutarch reports: Colotes castigates Democritus for the claim that colour is by convention (νόμῳ), sweet by convention, a compound60 by convention, ‘and so the rest’ (1110E7–9). Colotes claims that this view stands contrary to the senses and makes a rational life impossible. 2. Plutarch comments: these features are inseparable from Epicurus’s own philosophy (1110F1–4). 3. Plutarch turns to Democritus – “For what does Democritus say?” – and lists the main features and consequences of Democritus’s theory, implying that the claim about the conventional character of anything but atoms (and the void) follows from the basic premises of his theory (1110F4–1111A8). The atoms are (a) infinite in number, (b) indivisible, (c) indestructible, (d) devoid of quality [except size, shape, and arrangement], (e) incapable of modification, (f) moving scattered about in the void. When they collide and attach to one another, (g) the aggregate can become various things like the elements or (h) things like a plant, a man etc., i.e. the aggregate appears as such things. Moreover, Democritus makes some strong existential claims: (i) atoms (‘forms’) alone are real, (j) , because there is neither generation from the non-existent nor from the existent, since the latter (atoms) are unchanging. Plutarch either mentions, or draws, two further consequences: (k) there are no qualities and (l) besides the elements, there are no natural substances nor souls (οὐδὲ φύσιν ἢ ψυχήν). The first consequence (k) follows from (i), but the reason that Plutarch gives is that in order for there to be qualities, they would have to come to be from things that, according to Democritus, have no qualities. In (j) he has said that nothing new is ever generated. In the argument for (j) it is claimed that nothing can come to be from non-beings (hence qualities could not come from non-existing qualities) nor from beings, for they do not change. Likewise, one can presume, since atoms have no qualities (d) and cannot change, that nothing can be produced

60 We can disregard the difficulty involved in the inclusion of compounds among the things said to be by convention, as it is not our purpose to discuss Democritus. See Castagnoli (2013) § 52–53.

48

JAN OPSOMER

that has qualities. The second consequence drawn by Plutarch or his source, (l), confirms his earlier inclusion of compounds among the things that are merely by convention (1). This is also the link with the reproach that Democritus’s life makes life impossible. If there is no such thing as a soul, mind, an animal or human body or an animal or human being, there can be no such thing as animal or human life61. 4. Plutarch agrees that Democritus deserves censure, not because he accepts (k) and (l), but because he sets up the principles (a-j) from which these follow (1111A8–10). More specifically, he should not have posited immutable first elements (b-c). Having nevertheless done so, he should have figured out (k), that the generation of any quality becomes impossible (1111A8–B2). It seems to me that Plutarch is not echoing the criticism of Colotes here, but speaking in his own voice. 5. Plutarch compares Democritus with Epicurus: whatever Democritus’s mistakes are, at least he recognises the consequences of the principles that he lays down and accepts them. That is why he says that colours, sweetness and compounds are by convention. Epicurus, by contrast, openly espouses the principles but rejects the consequences, which is pure effrontery (1111B2–5). Plutarch already claimed that Epicurean atomism amounts to basically the same and has the same implications (1110F1–4)62. Now, Plutarch points out that Epicurus does not say that colour is by convention and suggests that this is because he is a realist about colours and other qualities (even if some qualities are relative, but he may be a realist about these too). The same will be true, presumably, for aggregates. But unlike Democritus, Epicurus has the nerve not to admit the consequences (1111B3–8). In other words, (m) Epicurus accepts atomism (basically premises [a-h]), or rather filches it from Democritus, a theory which has an initial plausibility (1111C5–8). (n) Nevertheless, he rejects the implausible and therefore unpleasant consequences (C8, τὸ δυσχερές), for instance that there can be no generation of qualities (B2: ποιότητος οἴχεται πάσης γένεσις). Indeed, contrary to Democritus, Epicurus asserts the reality of secondary qualities and compounds. He has to, because our infallible senses tell us that these things exist. But then, Plutarch continues, (o) Epicurus should have shown how qualities can come into existence from qualitiless bodies … […] or else show how bodies without quality have given rise to qualities of every kind by the mere fact of coming together. Take

61 According to E. Kechagia, the word φύσις here denotes a natural essence with an inner principle of change: Kechagia (2011) 189, n. 16. 62 On the anaphoric reference of ταῦτα, 1110F3, see Castagnoli (2013) §6–7.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

49

for example the quality called hot. How do you account for it? From where has it come and how has it been imposed on the atoms, which neither brought heat with them nor became hot by their conjunction? For the former implies the possession of quality, the latter the natural capacity to be affected (τὸ μὲν γὰρ ἔχοντος ποιότητα τὸ δὲ πάσχειν πεφυκότος), neither of which, say you, can rightly belong to atoms by reason of their indestructibility. (1111C8–D4, trans. B. Einarson – Ph. De Lacy, LCL) Taking stock of this argument up to this point, what can we say for Plutarch’s stance on supervenience and, its counter-part, reduction, two crucial features of (geometric) atomism? The decisive premises for Plutarch turn out to be the ones that deny the possession of qualities and changeability of the atoms (as he presents it, unchangeability is assumed because it is thought to be a necessary and sufficient condition for indestructibility). Democritean and Epicurean atoms are not endowed with qualities, hence groups of atoms should not be endowed with qualities63. They could acquire qualities as a conglomerate, so Plutarch thinks, if and only if they could be affected, but they cannot. Plutarch clearly believes that if atomic entities combine and thereby change, that is, undergo affections as a result of the interactions with other atoms, qualities may arise. At first, it is unclear as to whether he thinks these to only be qualities of the compounds or also newly acquired qualities of the atoms themselves. As we will see now, this is the crucial difference with the Platonic-Aristotelian theory as it will be presented in the next section. The connection between qualitative properties and change has a long tradition. There is a tendency in the Platonic and Aristotelian tradition to regard only those attributes that can be the result of a qualitative change as qualities or properties64. This is supported by the use of the words pathos or pathêma to denote indiscriminately affections and qualities, for instance in Plato’s Timaeus. Plato explains that qualities are nothing but the result of the interactions of corpuscles. Plutarch thinks that this can only be so because the corpuscles themselves change and get destroyed (so as to transform into others). This inference, though, is unwarranted.

63 For Plutarch’s general discussion of Epicurean atomism in the light of the Platonic ontology of the Forms, see Kechagia (2011) 241–245, esp. 242: “Plutarch reads Epicurean atomism through the lens of Platonist dualism. Thus, he seems to take the everlasting Epicurean atoms to correspond somehow to the eternal and unchanging ‘real’ beings of the Platonic ontology, the Forms.” Epicurean atoms are indeed qualitiless, imperceptible, indivisible, homogeneous, ungenerated, indestructible, and unchangeable. 64 A striking example of this reasoning is given in Plotinus, 3,6[26].

50

JAN OPSOMER

It is true that Plato’s atoms are cut up in the process, but the supervenience of qualities does not seem to depend upon this. That would be the case if the qualities were qualities of the primary corpuscles and of them alone. Plato may be ambivalent about whether qualities may be attributed to corpuscles: fire is said to be hot (Ti. 61d6), but is it really hot? And if the sentence “fire is hot” is true, would a single corpuscle count as fire or would only a greater quantity of particles be fire65? However these questions may be answered, it is certainly not the case that only single particles can be bearers of qualitative properties. The occurrence of cold provides a counter-example. Coldness affects macroscopic structures and involves the dislocation of particles, not necessarily the destruction of, or changes in, individual particles (Ti. 62a6–b6). 6. Plutarch formulates an objection and a reply to the objection (ch. 9). The objection runs as follows: Plato and others get away with saying that new things are generated out of other things, so why not grant the same to the atomists66? This objection goes to the heart of the matter; Plato produces qualities from subjacent properties, which is not a problem. What is so different then about the Epicurean or Democritean accounts that would make these problematic? One would seem to be justified in hoping that Plutarch’s answer sheds light on his criticism of Democritus and, more importantly for our purpose, on his understanding of Plato’s geometric atomism. However, Plutarch’s answer fails to meet these expectations. First, he does not just contrast Democritus and Epicurus with Plato, but with Plato, Aristotle, and Xenocrates67. Secondly, he does not address geometric atomism, but rather mixtures from the four elements (as he was bound to do once he associates Plato with these other thinkers). The objection targets compounds resulting from the combination of two or more elements, and does not imply elemental transformation. Even if one holds that each of the elements is indestructible, a compound consisting of these elements can be transformed into 65 Proclus, for one, does not think that a single particle counts as an instance of the element: cf. Simplicius, in Cael. 649,29–650,3. 66 Cf. Adv. Col. 1111D5–8. 67 Cf. Xenocrates, fr. 50–53 Heinze: Xenocrates claims that Plato accepted five elements, associated with five shapes. According to the doxographic tradition, he accepted ‘smallest parts’ (ἐλάχιστα), of which the elements themselves consist; these are as it were the elements of the elements. The smallest parts are indivisible. The doctrine of smallest parts is attributed to Empedocles and Xenocrates in DG 315,b23–26 = Stobaeus, I,p.152 W., but to Empedocles alone in the corresponding passage from Ps.-Plutarch, DG 317a,10–13 (Aetius, 1,17,3). The indivisibility of the smallest parts is said to be a tenet held by Xenocrates and Diodorus in Aetius, 1,13,3, DG 312b8–9 = Stobaeus, I,p.143 W.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

51

another compound consisting of the same elements, albeit in different proportions, or also a compound from different ingredients. The new compound will be of a different character and have different properties. A first question would be how the same ingredients lead to different aggregate properties. A second, implied objection, though, is that Plato, Aristotle and Xenocrates apparently consider these compounds to be real, whereas Plutarch claims that Democritus did not consider them to be real, but merely a matter of convention. He also argues that Epicurus should be committed to the same view. These two questions should be kept separate, even if they are closely connected and our author does not keep them apart. Next, Plutarch explains what distinguishes the Platonic, Aristotelian, and Xenocratean account from the Epicurean (1111D8–F1): Plato and the others start from ingredients that are already endowed with their own qualities and these ingredients meet and combine. Since they are bodies that interact with each other’s qualities and change throughout (σώματα κινούμενα παθητικῶς ὑπ’ ἀλλήλων καὶ μεταβάλλοντα δι’ ὅλων), together they generate a new mixture. By contrast, an Epicurean or Democritean atom is bare and destitute of any generative power. It remains unchanged when it collides with others. Their alleged conglomerates fail to form collective pluralities and do not even reach the unity of a heap (οὐδὲ πλῆθος ἐξ ἑαυτῶν κοινὸν οὐδὲ σωρὸν ἕνα), as the atoms are incessantly shaking and breaking away. Plutarch clearly thinks that the generation and identity of a unified entity presuppose that the ingredients cohere through affecting one another. If they merely bounce off one another, the resulting conglomerates are unstable68. What Plutarch here says about the philosophers other than Democritus and Epicurus seems to be written primarily with the Aristotelian doctrine of the elements in mind. For Aristotle, qualities are primary: cold meets warm, dry meets wet and this leads to transformations of the elements themselves. That Plutarch uses these examples and this framework to counter Epicurus is annoying, since he thus bypasses the deeper causal explanation based on the geometry of constitutive polyhedra. Yet, for the sake of the argument, let us assume that although qualities are reducible to quantities and shapes, the qualitative account of the elements is adequate for the refutation of Democritus and Epicurus. On that assumption, the Platonic-Aristotelian account of the elements avoids two problems of atomism: (1) if elements themselves have qualities, compounds too will have them, (2) compounds are real and form true unities, which is made possible 68

Kechagia (2011) 219 citing Aristotle, GC 1,8,324b35–325a36.

52

JAN OPSOMER by the fact that the elements are changed throughout as a result of their coming together. In this model, elements are themselves subject to change and destruction. They can change their properties and thus transform into other elements. The underlying idea would be that they adapt themselves to one another and thus constitute a new whole. This second problem is related to the first: the qualities provide the bond that keeps the compounds together, and facilitate the meeting of the elements. In fact, they are the symbola, the tokens of kinship or friendship that the elements carry within themselves (1111D9–10: ὥσπερ συμβολὰς μεγάλας φέρουσαι τὰς ἐν αὑταῖς ποιότητας). Plutarch disregards the gap between Aristotle’s doctrine of the elements and Plato’s Timaeus. Plato accepts mixtures by juxtaposition of elements even in the absence of elemental transformation. Elements do not have a merely potential existence in a stable mixture, as they do in Aristotle’s account69. They do, however, interact and as a result, elements are destroyed and the fragments recombine into other elements. Qualities exist, but are dependent on these interactions. In other words, Plato’s account is much closer to Epicurus’s than to Aristotle’s, if one disregards the destructibility of the elements. This is because Plato’s atomic particles have the exact same type of properties as Epicurus’s atoms: shape, size, possibly weight or mass, solidity, position, motion. The key difference consists in the changeability of the elements. This sole feature is supposed to explain the unity of compounds and the origin of qualities in Plato’s account of the elements. Can the changeability of the corpuscles achieve these two aims? – Plato does hold that elemental particles can change without therefore being destroyed. For instance, triangles deteriorate, lose their perfect shape and are subject to distortions. This could mean that particles adapt to one another, which could account for the stability of compounds, although Plato does not appropriate this feature in this sense. – Plato explains how a range of phenomenal qualities originate through the interaction of the elements, as a result of which elements indeed undergo changes and are sometimes fragmented. Plutarch may have thought that this (alone) is sufficient to account for the origin of qualities. As we have argued, for the supervenience model, it does not make a difference whether the atoms can be affected or destroyed. If Plutarch accepts supervenience in Plato, he should accept it in Epicurus and admit that it does not 69

Cf. GC 1,10,276b27–29; 227b30–31.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

53

involve a mysterious generatio ex nihilo70. It merely amounts to the distinction between the true causes of material processes and surface effects. Moreover, there is no necessity for conceiving the latter as in any way less real. Plutarch does not appear to argue that the mutability of microscopic bodies endowed with shape and motion, but bereft of qualitative properties, makes a difference for the explanation of the origin of qualities at a more macroscopic level. Instead, he appears to take a different path and assumes that because of their changeability, atoms are themselves qualitatively disposed, as he presumably closely associates ‘being affected’ with ‘having pathê’, i.e. qualitative properties. 10. Conclusion Throughout his philosophical works, Plutarch espouses Plato’s geometric account of the elements and their qualities. In The Principle of Cold he further admits that qualities are not primary, but depend upon shapes and calls the account in terms of mathematical principles more philosophical, because it ascends to intelligible principles. Nowhere in the extant works, however, does he show any awareness of Aristotle’s criticism of the theory. Presumably he was not familiar with the third book of De caelo. His discussion of Epicurean atomism in Adversus Colotem suggests that he considers Aristotle’s qualitative approach to be compatible with geometric atomism, probably because he thinks that both accounts explain the same material processes; the one staying on the surface, the other providing the causes at work at a deeper level. Yet his rejection of the Epicurean idea that qualities supervene on quantities suggests a lack of understanding of Plato’s model. The fact that Plato’s atoms are changeable and destructible71 is not essential for the supervenience model, although Plutarch thinks it is. If Plutarch is indeed convinced that Plato’s polyhedra possess qualitative properties, it would be obvious for him to think that Plato’s and Aristotle’s theories are compatible. This helps to explain why he usually goes for the more superficial, that is, the Aristotelian explanation of material causality, in his discussion of natural problems72. I do not believe that the discrepancy between Plutarch’s criticism of the Epicureans and his own commitment to geometric atomism is sufficiently explained by the polemic nature of Adversus Colotem, since he carefully attempts to expound the difference between the two models. Nor does he seem to have a much more sophisticated account

70 71 72

Castagnoli (2013) § 61. They share these properties with the atoms of modern physics. Cf. Meeusen (2013) 214, 218.

54

JAN OPSOMER

than what he says about the transformability of Plato’s elementary corpuscles at his disposal. That, however, fails to do justice to the spirit of geometric atomism. Jan Opsomer KU Leuven, Institute of Philosophy / Internal Funds KU Leuven Bibliography Battegazzore, A.M. (1992), “L’atteggiamento di Plutarco verso le scienze”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di Magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 19–59. Bryan, J. (2012), Likeness and likelihood in the Presocratics and Plato, Cambridge. Castagnoli, L. (2013), “Democritus and Epicurus on sensible qualities in Plutarch’s Against Colotes 3–9”, Aitia 3, published on 30 May 2013, consulted on 21 August 2013. Donini, P. (1986), “Lo scetticismo academico, Aristotele e l’unità della tradizione platonica secondo Plutarco”, in Cambiano, G. (ed.), Storiografia e dossografia nella filosofia antica, Torino, 203–226. Donini, P. (1992), “I fondamenti della fisica e la teoria delle cause in Plutarco”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di Magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 99–120. Donini, P. (1994), “Testi e commenti, manuali e insegnamento: la forma sistematica e i metodi della filosofia in età postellenistica”, ANRW II, 36, 7, Berlin – New York, 5027–5100. Ferrari, F. (2005), “Dottrina delle idee nel medioplatonismo”, in Fronterotta, F. – Leszl, W. (eds.), Eidos – Idea. Platone, Aristotele e la Tradizione Platonica, Sankt Augustin, 233–247. Glucker, J. (1978), Antiochus and the late Academy, Göttingen. Johansen, T.K. (2004), Plato’s natural philosophy. A study of the Timaeus-Critias, Cambridge. Kechagia, E. (2011), Plutarch Against Colotes. A lesson in history of philosophy, Oxford. Meeusen, M. (2013), Picturing the world. A study of Plutarch’s Causes of natural phenomena, Diss. Leuven. O’Brien, D. (1981), Democritus, weight and size. An exercise in the reconstruction of early Greek philosophy, Paris – Leiden. Opsomer, J. (1998), In Search of the Truth. Academic Tendencies in Middle Platonism, Brussel. Opsomer, J. (2011), “Arguments non-linéaires et pensée en cercles. Forme et argumentation dans les Questions Platoniciennes de Plutarque”, in Brouillette, X. – Giavatto, A. (eds.), Les dialogues platoniciens chez Plutarque. Stratégies et méthodes exégétiques, Leuven, 93–116.

PLUTARCH ON THE GEOMETRY OF THE ELEMENTS

55

Opsomer, J. (2012), “In defence of geometric atomism: explaining elemental properties”, in Horn, C. – Wilberding, J. (eds.), Neoplatonism and the Philosophy of nature, Oxford, 147–173. Rashed, M. (2012), “Il Timeo: negazione del principio di necesità condizionale, matematica e teodicea”, in Chiaradonna, R. (ed.), Il platonismo e le scienze, Roma, 65–79. Taylor, A.E. (1928), A commentary on Plato’s Timaeus, Oxford. Ulacco, A. – Opsomer, J. (2014), “Elements and elemental properties in Timaeus Locrus”, RhM 157, 154–206.

‘Say Goodbye to Opinions!’ Plutarch’s Philosophy of Natural Phenomena and the Journey to Metaphysical Knowledge* SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES

1. Introduction There are a few basic assumptions concerning Plutarch’s epistemology that are rarely questioned yet are difficult to reconcile. First, Plutarch is said to have made a clear ontological distinction between the sublunary world and the metaphysical realm. Second, this ontological distinction is extrapolated to Plutarch’s epistemology: sense-perception, on the one hand, supposedly results in mere opinion (δόξα) about the always changing world, and real knowledge or intellection (ἐπιστήμη or νόησις), on the other hand, is restricted to the world of Forms. In his article on Plutarch’s epistemology in the De primo frigido, George Boys-Stones explains: The sublunary world is to be carefully distinguished from a superior, metaphysical realm on which it depends (…). But this ontological distinction has obvious consequences for Plutarch’s approach to questions of epistemology (…). The position we arrive at, then, is this: Plutarch thinks that true philosophical knowledge is available in respect of the metaphysical realm, but only in respect of the meta-

*

I would like to express my gratitude to Prof. G. van Kooten and Prof. L. Roig Lanzillotta for their careful reading of this paper and their useful comments and corrections. Furthermore, special thanks is due to Prof. J. Opsomer and Prof. G. Roskam for their helpful remarks and suggestions at the Meeting of the Réseau thématique Plutarque. The research for this paper has been undertaken as part of the project Overcoming the Faith-Reason Opposition: Pauline Pistis in Contemporary Philosophy (Project number 360-25-120), carried out at the Radboud University Nijmegen and the University of Groningen, and enabled by funding from The Netherlands Organisation for Scientific Research (NWO).

58

SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES physical realm. So, to the extent that he denies the possibility of true knowledge of the sensible world, Plutarch is, indeed, a sceptic1.

These assertions concerning Plutarch’s upholding of both a strict ontological and a strict epistemological distinction need not be problematic; however, they are usually accompanied by a third thesis: that, according to Plutarch, the task of natural philosophy is to somehow move beyond the sensory world to metaphysical knowledge and in doing so ‘say goodbye to opinions’2. Plutarch’s positive attitude towards the analysis of natural phenomena, well attested to by the extensive corpus of treatises on quaestiones naturales, supposes an epistemological progression from the one realm to the other. The natural philosopher is the person par excellence to supplement natural causes with the highest causes, thus transcending the ‘great divide’. This combination of views on Plutarch’s position raises many questions. How strong is the separation of opinion and knowledge in Plutarch’s thought? Are these two forms of cognition actually limited to their specific ontological objects, sensibles and intelligibles? How can an ascendance from the one to the other be depicted? May we assume that Plutarch’s thinking on these issues is consistent and well developed? Since the latter question should only be answered with a ‘no’ as a last resort, I intend to explore other possibilities of aligning these three basic assumptions. I will do so first by outlining several epistemological models that have recently been argued for in a lively discussion on Plato’s conception of knowledge and opinion in the Republic. At stake is what has come to be called the ‘two-worlds theory’, according to which a strong separation between sensibles and intelligibles and their related forms of cognition is unavoidable. Second, I will try to position Plutarch’s ontology and epistemology somewhere on this scale by analysing crucial passages from several of his treatises. I will conclude with what I believe may be the key to a better understanding of Plutarch’s positive attitude towards natural philosophy. This key, as I understand it, consists of Plutarch’s conception of Being as an underlying unity and ultimate principle, as the highest cause of nature and as the proper subject of philosophy.

1

Boys-Stones (1997) 228–229. De prim. frig. 955C. These lines are usually an object of debate in discussions of the place of ἐποχή, the suspension of judgement, in Plutarch. I will, however, only briefly touch upon this issue, and have taken the vivid expression of waving goodbye to δόξα as a reference to the philosopher’s endeavour to attain metaphysical knowledge (cf. De prim. frig. 948C, discussed below). 2

‘SAY GOODBYE TO OPINIONS!’

59

2. The ‘two-worlds theory’ and its alternatives According to the ‘two-worlds theory’, forms of cognition are set over different objects of cognition, so there can only be knowledge of intelligibles or Forms, and opinion about sensibles or opinables. The locus classicus for this position in Plato is R. 5,477a–b, where opinion is said to partake in being and non-being (τοῦ εἶναί τε καὶ μὴ εἶναι), while knowledge is said to be set over what is (ἐπὶ τῷ ὄντι). However, in recent scholarship, questions have been raised about the exact implications of this and other phrases that are taken as statements of the ‘two-worlds theory’. One of the ambiguities that plays an important role is Plato’s use of the verb ‘to be’ (εἰμί). It has been variously interpreted as existential, what (not) exists, or predicative, what is (not) F, or veridical, what is (not) true. I will discuss the difficulties of the ‘two-worlds theory’ here based on the assumption that it helps us to see similar problems with Plutarch’s epistemology more clearly, and I will briefly summarize three alternative suggestions in order to focus on possible solutions. What makes the ‘two-worlds theory’ so problematic is that, in the first place, Plato does not seem to play by his own rules. In fact, in the Meno, true opinion can become knowledge if it is bound by a justification (λόγος). This implies not only that opinion and knowledge are set over the same object, but also that the higher level of knowledge presupposes the previous level of true opinion. Conversely, in the Republic, the philosopher who returns to the cave is said to have real knowledge of the things inside the cave, that is, of sensibles. At any rate, apart from these textual inconsistencies, the theory leaves us with a very sceptical Plato, who denies the possibility of real knowledge of anything in this world, including, for example, which actions are just. In order to escape these problematic consequences scholars have produced several adaptations and alternatives to the ‘two-worlds theory’. In the 1970s, Gail Fine suggested that rather than knowledge and opinion being concerned with specific objects, they concern different propositions. Specifically, opinion is about true and not-true propositions and knowledge only about true propositions. In other words, she advocates a veridical reading of the εἰμί derivatives3. Fine’s interpretation went unchallenged for almost two decades, when the gauntlet was picked up by Francisco Gonzalez. Gonzalez shares Fine’s critique of the ‘two-worlds theory’, yet he sharply opposes Fine’s solution. According to Gonzalez, the bridge between opinion and knowledge has already been provided by the ontological connection: opinion and knowledge are related in the same manner as their objects, that is,

3

Fine (1990) 85–115. Cf. Fine (1978) 121–139.

60

SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES

through participation and imitation. Gonzalez combines this with an existential/predicative reading of εἰμί: (…) though belief4 is assigned to sensible objects that exist and do not exist by being F and not-F, while knowledge is assigned to forms that truly exist as truly and only F, what is imperfectly imitated and perceived in the objects of belief is the same as what is perfectly exemplified and known in the objects of knowledge: what F is5. A third alternative has been offered by Nicholas Smith in his article “Plato on Knowledge as a Power”6. As the title already suggests, Smith emphasizes that we ought to keep in mind that knowledge and opinion are powers (δυνάμεις), while their corresponding ‘products’ are cognitive states – an often overlooked, yet essential distinction. Consequently, whereas the object of ‘opinion-as-a-power’ is necessarily about sensibles, the actual ‘opinion-as-a-state’ it produces might well concern one of the metaphysical Forms. In this way, for example, we could form an opinion about the Form of Beauty without the power we used, that is, δόξα, ever coming into contact with the Form but only with a particular example or image of beauty. Hence, Smith can still adhere to a ‘two-worlds ontology’ in Plato, while denying a ‘two-worlds epistemology’7. 3. Sensibles and intelligibles: an ontological and epistemological distinction in Plutarch? If we turn back to Plutarch with these various options in mind, the first thing to look for are passages that explicitly reveal that he supports a ‘two-worlds distinction’ in the strong, ontological sense. It is remarkable that Plutarch draws heavily and explicitly on Plato in almost every passage that tries to explain the difference or relationship between both worlds. The third of Plutarch’s Platonic Questions demonstrates that he was familiar with one of the allegories that Plato uses in the Republic, known as the ‘divided line’. Before asking his main question as to which of the sections is larger, Plutarch summarizes the allegory, naming the four segments and the corresponding ‘criteria’ (κριτήρια)8: (a) intellect (νοῦς) and (b) thinking (διάνοια), which together form (a+b) intellection 4

With ‘belief’, Gonzalez refers to δόξα. Gonzalez (1996). 6 Smith (2000). 7 Cf. Smith (2000) 152. 8 Plutarch uses the word κριτήριον (Quaest. Plat. 3,1001C), while Plato uses τέτταρα ταῦτα παθήματα ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ γιγνόμενα (R. 6,511d). Κριτήριον was also used as a term for a cognitive faculty, see Striker (1996) 26–27. 5

‘SAY GOODBYE TO OPINIONS!’

61

(νόησις); (c) belief (πίστις) and (d) imagination (εἰκασία), which together form (c+d) opinion (δόξα)9. It is clear that he follows the general Platonic scheme of an intellectual and a sensible realm. However, it remains to be seen what exactly Plutarch meant by ‘criterion’, and whether he limited the use of each to their respective segments of reality. Based on the further treatment of this same Platonic question, it appears that Plutarch thought of a criterion as a faculty or, in his own words, as an ‘instrument’ (ὀργάνον) that was by nature (πέφυκεν) connected with a specific object10: It is because of the simplicity and similarity of the intelligible, however, that its sole criterion is the intellect (κριτήριον δὲ τοῦ νοητοῦ μόνον ἐστὶν ὁ νοῦς) as that of light is vision (ὄψις); but, since bodies have many differences and dissimilarities, different ones are naturally apprehended by different criteria, as it were by different instruments (ἄλλα ἄλλοις κριτηρίοις ὥσπερ ὀργάνοις ἁλίσκεσθαι πέφυκεν)11. Thus, according to this reasoning, the intelligible realm only needs one mental instrument, namely the intellect (ὁ νοῦς), because it is singular, whereas bodies need different faculties because of the plural nature of the created world. The comparison with the faculty of vision makes it quite clear that these faculties or powers are connected to specific objects. Therefore, the Fine model, which presents these objects as propositions, seems an unlikely candidate to describe Plutarch’s epistemology. Nevertheless, the above passage from Plutarch does suggest that he is strongly committed to an ontological ‘two-worlds theory’. A similarly strong distinction is made in the Adversus Colotem, a treatise in which Plutarch refutes the charges of Epicurus’ disciple Colotes against various philosophers and schools. In the section on Parmenides, Plutarch counters what was presumably Colotes’ claim, namely that Parmenides denies the plural and perceptible by saying that being is one12. Plutarch holds, however, that Parmenides did acknowledge a plural and sensible part

9

Plutarch does not render the same name as Plato for the top section, which is called ἐπιστήμη at Plato, R. 534a and νόησις at Plato, R. 511d. 10 This is what we might call the ‘classical understanding’ of a criterion. On the introduction of criterion as a more technical philosophical term after Plato and Aristotle, see Striker (1990) 144. 11 Quaest. Plat. 3,1002D. Cf. ibid. 1002AB. All translations have been taken from the Loeb edition of the Moralia, translated by Harold Cherniss and/or William C. Helmbold, but are modified to suit the need of a consequent epistemological vocabulary in accordance with the Greek terms. 12 See Adv. Col. 1114F.

62

SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES

of nature alongside his concept of ‘one’ and ‘being’, and he bases this judgement on two lines from Parmenides’ On Nature: “The unerring heart of most persuasive Truth (ἠμὲν ἀληθείης εὐπειθέος ἀτρεκὲς ἦτορ), and man’s opinions, that lack all true persuasion (ἠδὲ βροτῶν δόξας αἷς οὐκ ἔνι πίστις ἀληθής)”13. Plutarch argues that if Parmenides apparently does leave us with opinion (δόξα), he must also have believed in an object of opinion (δοξαστόν). That he is not only defending Parmenides’ position but also his own is clear in the way in which he frames him as a predecessor of Plato and Socrates: But since even before Plato and Socrates he saw that nature has in it something that we apprehend by opinion, and again something that we apprehend by intellection (ὡς ἔχει τι δοξαστὸν ἡ φύσις, ἔχει δὲ καὶ νοητόν), and the opinable is inconstant (ἔστι δὲ τὸ μὲν δοξαστὸν ἀβέβαιον) and passes through a wide range of accidents and changes, since for sense-perception (τῇ αἰσθήσει) it grows and decays and differs for different persons and is not, even for the same person, always the same: whereas what belongs to intellection (τοῦ νοητοῦ) is another kind of thing, for it is ‘Entire, unmoving, and unborn’ to quote his own words, and is like itself and enduring in what it is14. Here again we see a separation of the objects of opinion and intellection, in other words, an ontological ‘two-worlds theory’. Nevertheless, not every description of opinion and intellection is as univocal as the above passages seem to be. In the De animae procreatione in Timaeo, we read that reason (λόγος) “becomes intellection in case of intelligibles and opinion in case of sensibles (νόησις ἐν τοῖς νοητοῖς καὶ δόξα γιγνόμενος ἐν τοῖς αἰσθητοῖς)”15. Even though a separation between different faculties and objects is hinted at, this separation is far from clear, for reason is further explained as being a mixture of intellect (νοῦς) and sense-perception (αἴσθησις), suggesting a connection between both16. It is the difficult task of reason, so we read, “to separate the one and the many”, or to distinguish between the temporary sensibles and the eternal intelligibles, but reason does not succeed in this, “because the very principles have been alternately intertwined and thoroughly intermixed with each other”17.

13

Adv. Col. 1114F, also preserved in Diogenes Laertius, 9,22; Theophrastus, Phys. op. 6a; Sextus Empiricus, M. 7,111; 7, 114. 14 Adv. Col. 1114CD. 15 De an. procr. 1024F. 16 Ibid. 1024F: μέμικται δὲ λόγος ἐξ ἀμφοῖν. 17 Ibid. 1025E.

‘SAY GOODBYE TO OPINIONS!’

63

Other passages present us with similar caveats. When Plutarch explains the relationship between the different Egyptian gods in De Iside et Osiride, he refers to the three parts of nature: the intellectual (νοητός), the material (ὕλη) and the cosmos (κόσμος) that is formed from these18. He explicitly equates them to the terms used by Plato in the Timaeus, where the intellectual is named ‘form’ (ἰδέα), ‘example’ (παράδειγμα), or ‘father’ (πατήρ)19. The Timaeus, however, not only distinguishes between the three parts, but also explains their mutual relationship in terms of partaking: the matter is said to “partake in some most perplexing and most baffling way of the intelligible (μεταλαμβάνον δὲ ἀπορώτατά πῃ τοῦ νοητοῦ καὶ δυσαλωτότατον αὐτό)”20. The nature of the product of this union is therefore a combination of intellectual and material; of source, that is, the forms, and recipient, ‘that is devoid of all form’21. Thus, the visible cosmos is a combination of these two kinds of nature, with form and matter being brought together in this ‘perplexing and most baffling’ manner. Whether Plutarch himself held this view precisely, cannot be deduced from this passage. Nor, however, can it be considered evidence of an ontological (or epistemological) ‘two-worlds theory’. Therefore, let us take a different approach to the question of Plutarch’s epistemology by asking whether sensibles could, according to Plutarch, ultimately lead to something more than opinion, namely to metaphysical knowledge. To begin with, it is good to point to the numerous sceptical remarks regarding the deceptive nature of sense-perception22. Naturally, the Adversus Colotem abounds in criticisms of Epicurean confidence in the senses: “What opinion do they leave unshaken (τίνα δόξαν οὐ σαλεύει)?”, Plutarch laments, while defending the merits of the suspension of judgement23. Notwithstanding these criticisms, in the same treatise we can also find positive evaluations of the senses. In reply to Colotes’ accusation against the academic Arcesilaus that suspension of judgement (ἐποχή) actually impedes action, Plutarch chooses to employ the Stoic distinction between three movements of the soul: sensation (τό φανταστικόν), impulse (τό ὁρμητικόν) and assent (τό συγκαταθετικόν)24. While the first two are prerequisites for action, suspension of judgement is only needed in relation

18

De Is. et Os. 373EF. See for the three parts and the designation of ‘father’ Plato, Ti. 50c–d. 20 Plato, Ti. 51a–b. 21 Ibid. 50e. 22 Cf., e.g., De prim. frig. 952A; Adv. Col. 1123AC. 23 Adv. Col. 1123F. 24 Ibid. 1122B. Whether this refutation goes back to Arcesilaus himself is uncertain, cf. Opsomer (1998) 91, esp. n. 45. 19

64

SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES

to the third level of assent, for this involves opinion25. Whether Plutarch is merely employing this Stoic theory to disprove the charges of Colotes, or embraces it as part of his own position, is difficult to ascertain26. Nevertheless, it does fit nicely with what he defends as the correct view of the Cyrenaics, who were also subject to the scorn of Colotes (1120C–1121E). The Cyrenaics agreed with the Epicureans in trusting the impressions (πάθος) of the senses, but they sharply distinguished these impressions from any truth-claim pertaining to the outside world. As long as opinion keeps within the bounds of the effect of the impressions it remains free from errors; if it reaches beyond and makes truth-claims about the world outside, contradictions arise27. Other slightly more positive evaluations of sense-perception confirm that Plutarch distinguished between a trustworthy and untrustworthy level in the use of the senses. The frequent mentioning of their ἐνάργεια, the clarity or plain evidence of sense-impressions, is especially remarkable. George Boys-Stones even deduces that “it is because of this that they can be used in the philosophical endeavour of recapturing metaphysical, or divine, truths”28. This, however, is a rather large leap and in need of some further explication. For how is it that the gap between sense-perception and the metaphysical is bridged29? Plutarch does grant that the senses are useful in our daily life, yet he explicitly denies that they yield metaphysical knowledge:

25

Adv. Col. 1122C. Jan Opsomer argues for a purely dialectical refutation: Opsomer (1998) 93–96. 27 Adv. Col. 1120F: ὅθεν ἐμμένουσα τοῖς πάθεσιν ἡ δόξα διατηρεῖ τὸ ἀναμάρτητον, ἐκβαίνουσα δὲ καὶ πολυπραγμονοῦσα τῷ κρίνειν καὶ ἀποφαίνεσθαι περὶ τῶν ἐκτὸς αὑτήν τε πολλάκις ταράσσει καὶ μάχεται πρὸς ἑτέρους ἀπὸ τῶν αὐτῶν ἐναντία πάθη καὶ διαφόρους φαντασίας λαμβάνοντας. Cf. Opsomer (1998) 98–100. 28 Boys-Stones (1997) 229. 29 Boys-Stones refers to De soll. an. 966BC (ἐν δὲ τοῖς πεζοῖς καὶ γηγενέσι λαμπρὰ καὶ ἐναργῆ καὶ βέβαια παραδείγματα τῶν εἰρημένων ἑκάστου λαμβάνειν ἔστι καὶ θεᾶσθαι) and De E 392AB. However, neither of these passages explicitly refers to the use of these clear perceptions for the acquisition of a higher level of knowledge. Boys-Stones does offer some explication when he applies this remark to the De primo frigido. According to him, a plausible answer to the question of the principle of cold is required in order to progress to the deeper causes on the level of subperceptual elements (233): “precisely because the triangles are subperceptual, we need to infer their mode of operation from the perceptual world of the elements. And the way in which the triangles will be inferred to explain coldness will depend entirely on which element we perceive to introduce coldness into the world.” Nevertheless, this does not, strictly speaking, explain how knowledge based on the senses moves to knowledge of a metaphysical nature. It only explains the necessity, not the ontological foundation. 26

‘SAY GOODBYE TO OPINIONS!’

65

The inductive argument by which we conclude that the senses are not accurate or trustworthy (ὡς οὐκ ἀκριβεῖς οὐδ᾽ ἀσφαλεῖς πρὸς πίστιν οὔσας) does not deny that an object presents to us a certain appearance, but forbids us, though we continue to make use of the senses and take the appearance as our guide in what we do, to trust them as entirely and infallibly true (τὸ πιστεύειν ὡς ἀληθέσι πάντῃ καὶ ἀδιαπτώτοις οὐ δίδωσιν αὐταῖς). For we ask no more of them than utilitarian service in the unavoidable essentials since there is nothing better available; but they do not provide the perfect knowledge (ἐπιστήμην) and understanding (γνῶσιν) of a thing that the philosophical soul longs to acquire30. On this basis, I would agree with Boys-Stones that Plutarch ascribes some utilitarian value to the senses, presumably more than the Cyrenaics would, but it remains to be seen if and how they are of further use in providing what “the philosophical soul longs to acquire”. Plutarch maintains that the acquisition of perfect knowledge is possible for at least the philosophically trained humans, as is shown by the praise he preserves for the intellectual faculty. The Platonic question on the ‘divided line’, for example, ends with the promise that it “transcends all that is perceptible (περίεστι παντὸς τοῦ αἰσθητοῦ) and reaches as far as things divine (μέχρι τῶν θείων ἐξικνεῖται)”31. He refers to the Symposium, where Plato “explains how one must manage the matter of love by diverting the soul from the beautiful objects that are perceptible to those that are intelligible (μετάγοντα τὴν ψυχὴν ἀπὸ τῶν αἰσθητῶν καλῶν ἐπὶ τὰ νοητά)”32. Similarly, Osiris, the god that stands for the metaphysical in De Iside et Osiride, is unreachable for mere mortals, “except in so far as they may attain to a dim vision by means of the intellection which philosophy affords (πλὴν ὅσον ὀνείρατος ἀμαυροῦ θιγεῖν νοήσει διὰ φιλοσοφίας)”33. To sum up these findings, it seems that Plutarch adheres to the Platonic distinction of two levels of nature, and understood this as a strong 30

Adv. Col. 1118B. Quaest. Plat. 3,1002E. 32 Ibid. Plutarch also mentions some suggestions as to how the ascent to metaphysical knowledge is to be achieved in his treatment of this Quaestio. Specifically, he speaks of a process of abstraction or subtraction (ἀφαίρεσις): “Hence by abstracting sound from the things in motion and motion from the solids and depth from the planes and extension from the quantities we shall arrive at the intelligible ideas themselves” (Quaest. Plat. 3,1001E). However, it must be taken into account that this exposition is part of the first tentative answer to the question at hand, that is, it is part of the argument according to which opinion makes up the larger section of the divided line. Since this argument does not reflect Plutarch’s own position, the subtraction motive cannot incautiously be ascribed to Plutarch. Cf. on this Opsomer (2007) 394. 33 De Is. et Os. 382F. 31

66

SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES

distinction. He also associates these ontological objects with the specific cognitive faculties of intellection and opinion. Nevertheless, both the two ontological natures and the two cognitive faculties are in touch in some fashion, for the cosmos is described as a combination of both, with reason understood as bringing the intellect and sense-perception together within the soul. Furthermore, Plutarch’s judgement of the senses is twofold. Sense-perception is by its nature untrustworthy and incapable of providing knowledge, yet it is useful in a very basic way, enabling normal life. Intellection, in contrast, transcends the sensibles and, with the help of philosophy, touches the divine and metaphysical world. 4. From natural to metaphysical causes: the task of the natural philosopher The question now arises how we ought to integrate these observations. How might we picture the task of the philosopher in a Plutarchan fashion? How did Plutarch view his own task as a natural philosopher? One of the more insightful hints as to what is the propium of natural philosophy is given in De primo frigido, when Plutarch explains why he starts off with accounts of the perceptible elements of the cold. He sets the natural philosopher against the flute player, farmer and physician, who are only interested in the final or most immediate cause (τὰ ἔσχατα τῶν αἰτίων) of a phenomenon: But when the natural philosopher sets out to find the truth as a matter of speculative knowledge, the discovery of immediate causes is not the end, but the beginning of his journey to the first and highest causes (ἀρχὴ τῆς ἐπὶ τὰ πρῶτα καὶ ἀνωτάτω πορείας)34. The metaphor of a journey (πορεία) conveys a rich image that suggests a continuum between sensibles and intelligibles. Of even more interest is the fact that this link between both worlds revolves around the concept of two kinds of causes (αἰτίαι). The first, direct or material cause concerns elements such as fire and earth; and the second, highest cause, concerns “the smallest amount of seeds (τῶν ἐλαχίστων ὥσπερ σπερμάτων)”, which is found after the sensibles are reduced to intelligibles (ἐπὶ τὰς νοητὰς ἀναφέροντες ἀρχὰς τὰ αἰσθητά), for they are not perceptible to the senses35. Interestingly enough, Plutarch then chooses to start with a discussion of the elements that are perceptible, which will take up most of the treatise.

34

De prim. frig. 948C. Ibid. 948CD. Cf. Quaest. Plat. 3,1002AB: καὶ γὰρ ἄρχει τὰ νοητὰ τῶν σωματικῶν (for in fact the intelligibles are principles of the corporeals). 35

‘SAY GOODBYE TO OPINIONS!’

67

This regard for both the material and the highest cause, is in line with the position he defends elsewhere, when he refutes the charge that he “assigns the discovery and origin” of the Delphic oracle “not to God and Providence, but to chance and accident”36. In response, Plutarch again refers to the two kinds of causes (δύο πάσης γενέσεως αἰτίας ἐχούσης). He criticizes both the earliest poets, who only recognized Zeus as the cause of all being, and the more recent physicists, who “ascribe everything to bodies and their behaviour”, thereby neglecting the highest cause37. However, it is not so much that one cause is inferior to the other, but that both ought to be equally important to the true natural philosopher. So how does this philosopher, journeying between the different causes of phenomena, manage to cross the border between sensibles and intelligibles? I believe the crucial link between both is best described in Plutarch’s apologetic and polemical treatise Adversum Colotem38. It is here that he defends Plato against the very fundamental accusation that he “abolishes reality and throws us out of life”39. It is difficult to establish whether Colotes actually meant that Plato abolished the sensible world altogether or whether he meant that Plato merely downplayed the reality of this world, in contrast to his appreciation of the intelligible realm40. A further specification of Colotes’ accusation is that “Plato says that it is idle to regard horses as being horses and men men”41. This alleged saying, whose origin in Plato is denied by Plutarch42, confronts Plutarch with the same question we might ask: How is it that we may infer knowledge from anything in the sensible world? For instance, why would we assume that what presents itself to us as a horse via sense-perception is in fact a horse? In Plato’s defence, Plutarch makes some interesting points:

36

De def. or. 435E. Ibid. 436DE. 38 The advantage of the genre of the Adversus Colotem is that it enables us to gain an insight into Plutarch’s own views, and not merely his explication of Plato or an allegorical interpretation. Of course, it is also a polemical treatise, but on this specific issue, Plutarch is forced to present a balanced view. For, on the one hand, he needs to counter the Epicurean claim of the infallibility of the senses, while on the other, he wants to correct the charge that the sensible world, and therefore the possibility of living, is destroyed on the basis of Plato’s premises. 39 Adv. Col. 1116E: ὡς ἀναιρῶν τὰ πράγματα καὶ τοῦ ζῆν ἐξάγων ἡμᾶς. 40 Kechagia thinks the first option the most plausible, see Kechagia (2011) 220. 41 Adv. Col. 1115D: ἀλλὰ δὴ Πλάτων φησὶ τοὺς ἵππους ὑφ᾽ ἡμῶν ματαίως ἵππους εἶναι καὶ τοὺς ἀνθρώπους. 42 Yet, we may not simply assume that Colotes actually attributed it verbally to Plato, for he might only have deduced this from Plato’s teaching. Cf. Kechagia (2011) 218. 37

68

SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES I for one in reading them find that he everywhere regards man as man, horse as horse, and fire as fire; indeed this is why he terms each of them an ‘object of opinion’ (δοξαστὸν ὀνομάζει τούτων ἕκαστον). But our friend, as one separated from wisdom by not so much as a hair, took ‘man is not’ to be one and the same as ‘man is non-being’. But in Plato’s view there is a world of difference between ‘is not’ (τὸ μὴ εἶναι) and ‘is non-being’ (μὴ ὂν εἶναι), for by the former is meant the denial of any kind of being, by the latter the otherness of the participant and what it participates in (τοῦ μεθεκτοῦ καὶ τοῦ μετέχοντος) (…). The relation of the partaken in to the partaker is that of cause to matter, model to copy, power to effect (ὃν αἰτία τε πρὸς ὕλην ἔχει καὶ παράδειγμα πρὸς εἰκόνα καὶ δύναμις πρὸς πάθος). And it is chiefly by this relation that the absolute and always identical differs from what is caused by something else and is never in the same state. The former will never be non-being and has never come to be, and is therefore in the full and true sense ‘being’; whereas the latter has no firm hold even on such participation in being as it incidentally has from something else (…)43.

By saying that man, horse, and fire are objects of opinion, Plutarch seems to emphasize their existence. By applying a definition of ‘is non-being’ from the Sophist, as referring to the ‘otherness’ of opinables (δοξαστά), he rehabilitates their ontological status. Opinables apparently ‘are’ in some fashion, and they are related to what is in a more proper way ‘being’, as partaker to partaken. This does not make sensibles stand on an equal footing with intellectuals, but it does declare them to be ontologically related in ‘being’44. Yet, the triple comparison Plutarch provides in the above quotation, as a further explication of the relationship between partaker and partaken, offers us even richer imagery. Apart from the familiar Platonic metaphor of model and image, the intelligibles are presented in a more Aristotelian way45, as causes that act upon matter, which confirms the

43

Adv. Col. 1115DE. Some of these ideas are reminiscent of Aristotle’s Metaphysics, in which he names ‘being as being’ the proper object of philosophy: the philosopher should grasp the first causes and principles of being. See Aristoteles, Metaph. 4,1003a–b. Plutarch’s attitude towards Aristotle was complex: depending on the teaching in question, he either interprets him in a Platonizing fashion, or discredits him for adapting Plato’s doctrines. See on this: Boys-Stones (2001) 134–135, n. 12; Donini (1988) 144; Karamanolis (2010). On the probability of Plutarch’s acquaintance with the Metaphysics see Sandbach (1982) 222–223. 45 This ‘borrowing’ of Aristotelian vocabulary was not exceptional. See e.g. Kechagia (2011) 233, esp. n. 40 and 41. 44

‘SAY GOODBYE TO OPINIONS!’

69

possibility of reaching them through natural philosophy46. Because the Forms are causes, their causal relationship to matter provides, in reverse, the epistemological route to knowledge47. In the words of Eleni Kechagia: (…) the sensible things are not simply imitation of the Forms or bearers of a property of which the Form is the ideal exemplar; what’s more, they owe their reality to the Forms since it is the Forms that make them be what they are48. For Plutarch, the intelligibles are not only the paradigmatic causes of the sensibles, they actually bring them into being as causa efficiens49. In this passage, this active role of the causes is further confirmed by the notion of power (δύναμις) and by the examples of the moon and iron-in-fire: while the moon and the glowing iron derive what they are from the sun and the fire, no one would deny the existence of moonlight or the use of iron50. Apart from the occasional references to the sensible world being an image or a mirror of the intellectual world of Forms51, these more powerful metaphors of their relationship emphasize the ontological connection, enabling an epistemological journey.

46 Many thanks to Geert Roskam for pointing out to me that there is an interesting passage on the natural philosopher’s and the seer’s approach to the sacrifice of a ram in Per. 6. Plutarch does not speak of two causes here, but of the one offering the cause (αἰτία) and the other the purpose or meaning (τέλος, σημεῖον) of the same phenomenon. Here as well, Plutarch warns us that to have found the immediate cause of a phenomenon should not keep us from looking for its further meaning. However, the epistemological link between both approaches is less clear in this particular passage. 47 Jan Opsomer seems to express a similar view on the role of the causes, yet he immediately combines this with a form of epistemic dualism, without any further explanation: see Opsomer (1998) 218: “The essential quality of a philosophical investigation consists in the requirement that it should not be limited to the immediate physical causes, but must penetrate to the highest level of causality. Plutarch remains within the epistemological framework of the Timaeus, according to which the two ontological levels, the physical world and the reality of the Ideas, correspond to two epistemological levels, δόξα and ἐπιστήμη.” Cf. on dual causality, ibid. 181–184. 48 Kechagia (2011) 234. 49 Cf. Ferrari (2005) 16: “Da Gott zugleich Demiurg und Vorbild (παράδειγμα) ist, muss er Wirkursache und paradigmatische Ursache der Welt sein.” 50 Adv. Col. 1116A. 51 Cf. De Is. et Os. 382AB on animals as ‘mirrors of the divine’; Quaest. Plat. 3,1002A on mathematical objects as mirrors of the intelligible; and De Is. et Os. 372F: εἰκὼν γάρ ἐστιν οὐσίας ἐν ὕλῃ ἡ γένεσις καὶ μίμημα τοῦ ὄντος τὸ γιγνόμενον (…).

70

SUZAN SIERKSMA-AGTERES

5. Conclusions Now that we have come to the end of this analysis of Plutarch’s epistemology and the task of the natural philosopher, it is time to recall the three models based on Plato’s theory of opinion and knowledge as set out in the Republic, to select the most appropriate model and to provide a conclusion regarding the possibility of knowledge in Plutarch. As far as the first model is concerned, Gail Fine argued that knowledge and opinion do not have separate objects, but rather different propositions, and thus a different content. That this interpretation was not endorsed by Plutarch is, in my view, demonstrated by his description of objects as instruments, and confirmed by the existential use of being and nonbeing in the Adversus Colotem, which seems to exclude the possibility that Plutarch understood Plato’s distinction between ‘what is’ and ‘what is not’ in a veridical sense. As far as Smith’s sharp distinction between cognitive powers and cognitive states is concerned, I must admit it is a helpful tool to carefully express what it is that is related to either sensibles or intelligibles. However, the sources simply do not provide enough support to apply this hypothesis to Plutarch. In point of fact, while it helps us to bridge the epistemological gap we identified, it also imposes a thought-structure that is, as far as we can see, alien to the author. In my view, consequently, the most likely model to assess the possibility of knowledge in Plutarch’s epistemology is the one that emphasizes the participation/imitation connection, and with it the ontological relatedness of both worlds, such as defended by Gonzalez. Admittedly, as I have shown, this relatedness is not always warranted in Plutarch’s works, and is even challenged now and then by descriptions in which the continuity of the realm of opinion (δόξα) with that of intellection (νόησις) is brought into question. Nevertheless, as we have seen, through the participation of both worlds in diverse levels of ‘being’, and through the actual presence of the intelligibles as primary causes of nature, this connection is sufficiently strong. Plutarch judges it strong enough to pave the road for the natural philosopher, enabling him to approach metaphysical knowledge from the sensible side, while saying goodbye to the realm of opinions, happily left behind. Suzan Sierksma-Agteres Rijksuniversiteit Groningen

‘SAY GOODBYE TO OPINIONS!’

71

Bibliography Boys-Stones, G.R. (1997), “Plutarch on the Probable Principle of Cold. Epistemology and the De Primo Frigido”, CQ 47, 227–238. Boys-Stones, G.R. (2001), Post-Hellenistic Philosophy. A Study of its Development from the Stoics to Origen, Oxford. Donini, P. (1988), “Science and Metaphysics. Platonism, Aristotelianism, and Stoicism in Plutarch’s On the Face of the Moon”, in Dillon, J.M. – Long, A.A. (eds.), The Question of ‘Eclecticism’. Studies in Later Greek Philosophy, Berkeley – Los Angeles, CA. Ferrari, F. (2005), “Der Gott Plutarchs und der Gott Platons”, in Hirsch-Luipold, R. (ed.), Gott und die Götter bei Plutarch. Götterbilder – Gottesbilder – Weltbilder, Berlin, 13–25. Fine, G. (1990), “Knowledge and Belief in Republic V–VII”, in Everson, S. (ed.), Epistemology, Cambridge, 85–115. Fine, G. (1978), “Knowledge and Belief in Republic V”, AGPh 60, 121–139. Gonzalez, F.J. (1996), “Propositions or Objects? A Critique of Gail Fine on Knowledge and Belief in ‘Republic’ V”, Phronesis 41, 245–275. Karamanolis, G. (2010), “Plutarch”, in Zalta, E.N. (ed.), The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2010 Edition), URL = http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2010/ entries/plutarch/. Kechagia, E. (2011), Plutarch Against Colotes: a Lesson in History of Philosophy, Oxford. Opsomer J. (2007), “Plutarch on the One and the Dyad”, in Sorabji, R. – Sharples, R.W. (eds.), Greek and Roman Philosophy 100 BC–200 AD, vol. I, London, 379–395. Opsomer, J. (1998), In Search of the Truth: Academic Tendencies in Middle Platonism, Brussel. Sandbach, F.H. (1982), “Plutarch and Aristotle”, ICS 7, 207–232. Smith, N.D. (2000), “Plato on Knowledge as a Power”, JHPh 38, 145–168. Striker, G. (1990), “The problem of the criterion”, in Everson, S. (ed.), Epistemology, Cambridge, 143–160. Striker, G. (1996), Essays on Hellenistic Epistemology and Ethics, Cambridge.

II. PHYSICAL AETIOLOGY AND EXEGESIS

Are Women Colder or Hotter than Men? (Quaest. conv. 3,4)* ANGELO CASANOVA The Table Talks, or Quaestiones Convivales, are one of Plutarch’s socalled ‘minor’ works, though they comprise no less than nine books. In the preface the author addresses Sosius Senecio1, a friend and associate of Trajan’s. He dedicates the first three books to him (he repeats the dedication in all the six remaining books, thus extending it to the whole work) and states that, complying with Sosius’ wishes, he has written down the most interesting conversations he happened to witness at the dinner table, thus following in the wake of Plato, Xenophon, Aristotle, and others. It is quite clear, then, that Plutarch is fully aware of engaging in a genre endowed with a long and illustrious tradition, whose most famous specimen is none other than Plato’s Symposion. The extent to which the work actually reflects real conversations (at Sosius’, in Rome or in Greece, or at Plutarch’s, or elsewhere) is a matter of dispute, and the same is true as far as the influence of literary models is concerned. Even a cursory reading reveals the plain and almost bald character of the work’s prose, which hardly contains any description or explication. For this reason E. Graf2 believed it was really based on personal memories, perhaps supported by notes taken at the time. By contrast, K. Hubert3 stressed the relevance of literary sources for each of the questions discussed, which led him to uphold the work’s basically literary character. Later scholars, starting with Hirzel4 and Ziegler5, tried to reconcile the two opposite views in favor of an intermediate position. Surely, the hasty and bald style suggests derivation from notes taken at earlier times, then resumed and published between 110 and 120 A.D. This, at least, is Ziegler’s authoritative opinion

* Warm thanks to my friend and colleague Aldo Setaioli for translating this paper from the Italian into English. 1 Q. Sosius Senecio, though Plutarch constantly writes Σόσσιος. 2 Graf (1888) 57–70. 3 Hubert (1911) 170–187. 4 Hirzel (1895) 224–226. 5 Ziegler (1965) 295–297.

76

ANGELO CASANOVA

(p. 297). The dedication of all the books to Sosius Senecio points indeed to this time, as he was a close friend of Trajan’s and a consul in the years 99, 102, and 107 A.D.6 The work was well-known in antiquity. It was used by Macrobius, who in the seventh book of the Saturnalia literally followed some of the Table Talks, never acknowledging Plutarch’s authorship7. It was also occasionally employed by Gellius, Athenaeus, Aelianus, Clemens of Alexandria, and Psellus. The title, however, does not appear in the so-called Lamprias Catalogue. The work has come down to us practically through a single manuscript, the Vindobonensis Gr. 148, usually referred to as T (10th or early 11th century), from which twelve more manuscripts have been copied, which are useful for some parts of the Vienna manuscript which were lost after the several transcriptions. However, in view of the fact that the text offered by the Vindobonensis is hardly accurate, marked as it is by lacunae and mistakes, producing an edition of the work is anything but easy, witness the fact that, though today several editions are at the scholars’ disposal8, all are hardly satisfactory at times. My inquiry concerning the fourth question of the third book may be a case in point. Before we proceed to discuss this text, one point should be clarified. In the preface to the second book Plutarch calls sympotikà the talks concerning the rules and habits prevailing in the symposium, whereas symposiakà refers to talks of any kind occurring at the dinner table. All questions debated in the third book are sympotikà, though the fourth and the tenth fall almost astride the distinction established by Plutarch. The first and the second question are discussed during one and the same symposium, which takes place at Athens, in the house of the musician Eraton, at an undisclosed time. The discussion is led by Ammonius, and Tryphon, Plutarch, and “other youths” also take part in it: it can be safely dated to the years between 66 and 70 A.D. The first questions 6

Cf. Ziegler (1965), 68–69. On Macrobius’ reception of Plutarch’s Quaestiones convivales (3,10), see Aldo Setaioli’s contribution to this volume. 8 Namely, the Teubner edition by Hubert (1971, 19381); the Loeb, by Clement – Hoffleit (1969): the former edited books 1–3, the latter books 4–6 (later on books 7–8 were edited by E.L. Minar, book 9 by F.H. Sandbach). Today the Belles Lettres edition by Fuhrmann (1972) is generally regarded as the most authoritative. Its text has been followed by Teodorsson, in his commentary (1989), whose second volume appeared in 1990, followed by the third in 1996. The edition in the series Corpus Plutarchi Moralium, published at Naples, is still ongoing: so far four volumes of unequal worth have appeared (vol. I, by A. Scarcella, 1998; vol. II, by E. Caiazza, 2001; vol. IV, by A. Scarcella, 2009); vol. III, by Irene Chirico (2001), is unreliable, marked as it is by mistakes of all sort. 7

ARE WOMEN COLDER OR HOTTER THAN MEN? (QUAEST. CONV. 3,4) 77 debated are: (1) whether the use of flower wreaths, rather than laurel wreaths, is appropriate during the symposium (the question is posed by Ammonius, and the answer is offered by the physician Tryphon); this gives rise to a further question (2): whether the nature of ivy is cold or hot (it is solved by Tryphon: ivy is cold. Its cooling effect explains why it is worn around the temples by drinkers). Questions 3, 4, and 5 belong in another symposium, which took place “among friends”, at an unspecified place and time. The participants include Apollonides Tacticus, Athryitus, Florus, Sulla, and Plutarch. None of these characters is presented to the reader, so to speak: this suggests that these questions may be based on the author’s personal memories; and of course Plutarch relates the discussion in the first person. Question 3 is raised by Florus (very probably the Lucius Mestrius Florus who was Plutarch’s friend and protector and was instrumental in his acquisition of Roman citizenship, with the name of Mestrius Plutarchus)9: why women scarcely get drunk, whereas old men do so very quickly?10 The answer is provided by Sulla11. Question 4 is closely connected with the preceding one: are women, by nature, colder or hotter than men? It is raised by Apollonides; Athryitus offers a solution, but is sternly refuted by Florus. The latter, however, leaves it to Plutarch to establish whether wine is by nature cold or hot – the point debated in question 5 (raised, then, by Florus, but solved by Plutarch himself). It should be remarked that Macrobius changes the order of the questions: question 5 is debated first (Sat. 7,6,1–13), followed by question 3 (Sat. 7,6,14–21), and then by question 4 (Sat. 7,7,1–12). Question 4 of the third book, then (like question 10), is not strictly ‘sympotic’, though it is closely related to the symposium: surely it is hardly foreign to it. The point debated, in fact, is not whether women are hotter or colder than men from the sexual point of view – a question that might appear intriguing and was sometimes raised in the Greek poetical tradition (Hesiod, Alcaeus, Aristophanes, etc.). Rather, the point at stake 9

Cf. Ziegler (1965) 66–67; Teodorsson (1989) 32–33. In the title of πρόβλημα γʹ Fuhrmann accepts Defradas’ correction μάλιστα in lieu of the transmitted τάχιστα. This is a way to ‘improve’ the title-writer’s formulation as though the latter were a present-day schoolboy. True, in the second line of Plutarch’s text we do find μάλιστα, but this is hardly a reason why the title-writer should have repeated the word. His text deserves respect too. 11 This Sulla has obviously nothing to do with the Roman dictator. Sextius Sulla, of Carthage, is an ἑταῖρος endowed with sound culture, who also appears at Quaest. Conv. 2,3 and 7,7 and 8, and also in the De facie in orbe lunae. For a general survey of Plutarch’s friends see Ziegler (1965) 41–77. 10

78

ANGELO CASANOVA

is both more general and more connected with the symposium. Question 3 explains that women scarcely get drunk because their temperament is humid by nature (τὴν κρᾶσιν ὑγρὰν ἔχουσιν: so the text at 650B4): for this reason, when wine gets into a body rich in moisture, it loses its strength by slowly becoming diluted and watered down. There’s more: Aristotle himself reportedly explained that those who drink at one draft, gulping down the wine without breathing12, do not get drunk, since they absorb and directly excrete it: and – so Sulla explains – this is how women usually drink; most of all, they expel wine more rapidly, since they have more channels leading out of the body and excrete more liquids13. Their body is more porous, and is more apt to expel liquids: it is cleaved by more “cuts”. At 650C5 the verb τετμῆσθαι is employed in reference to the female body: Teodorsson (p. 329) contemplates the possibility that Naber’s old correction τετρῆσθαι may be right14; but this correction is hardly necessary, nor, in all probability, is it appropriate. As it is, the text refers to grooves, ducts, or channels through which wine quickly flows out, and therefore does not cause drunkenness. Chirico’s explanation (p. 234) is wrong: the female body is not “spongy”, it is “porous”. What is “spongy” is rather the body of old men. They are both dry and spongy, and so they become drenched with wine and easily get drunk (as explained on section D). By contrast, women have more ducts and channels, and so they hardly ever get drunk15. Let us now finally come to the text of question 4. So, then, spoke Sulla: he explained that women are moist and porous, whereas old men are dry and spongy (and therefore get drunk). Apollonides Tacticus (that is ‘ephebe trainer’)16 declares himself persuaded by Sulla’s explanation, but asks for further clarifications as to why women are cold by nature, so cold, in fact, to nullify even the effect of wine, which is hot (or “even of the hottest wine”), and to expel and excrete (ἀποβάλλειν, 650F) the part of wine wich affects or strikes the head, thus setting it afire.

12

Not “tracannando” (“quaffing”), as translated by I. Chirico, but “gulping down without savoring”. This is an ancient technical expression, recorded even in the Suda s.v. ἀμυστὶ πιεῖν (lit. “without closing one’s mouth”). 13 The reference is apparently to urine, but sweat, menstruation, lactation, and tears may also be intended. 14 Obviously from τετραίνω, “to pierce”, “to drill”. 15 The idea that women may drink less, or that the ἑταῖραι, or entraineuses, may only pretend to drink, is not taken into consideration. 16 It should be noted that Plutarch does not say anything about this character. For the attempts at identification, a reference to Teodorsson (1989) 331 may suffice.

ARE WOMEN COLDER OR HOTTER THAN MEN? (QUAEST. CONV. 3,4) 79 At this point reading is slowed down by a small textual problem: whereas ἄκρατον is not preceded by the article, πλῆττον is (τὸ πλῆττον). Bernardakis and Fuhrmann corrected to θερμὸν ὄντα τὸν ἄκρατον, that is “wine, which is hot”17. But, it should be asked, is wine hot or cold? The problem will be dealt with later on (in question 5), but it has already been hinted that wine is probably cold by nature, even though it warms people up. For this reason I do not believe that a premature, and basically wrong, statement should be introduced into the text. It is surely better to take it as it is, stressing the meaning given by the absence of the article: women are able to render ineffective, or rather to dull or to deaden even “a very hot wine” (and maybe καί before θερμότατον, as proposed by Hubert in the apparatus, would be in place too). And, most of all, it is necessary to render ἀποβάλλειν with “expel” or “excrete”: it is an obvious allusion to micturition (and similar excretions) as more abundant in women than in men. Thus, the question seems to have found its solution and to be completely answered. But the physician Athryitus of Thasos – the name may be questionable, but it is found only here, and should not be distorted, as in the Belles Lettres edition18 – introduces new elements providing the cue for further discussion. He remarks that, according to some, women are not colder, but hotter than men; and that according to others (like Plutarch himself) wine is not hot, but cold. The argument is thus turned upside down. We know nothing about this Athryitus – obviously not a fictitious character, but rather an occasional guest –, but certainly his words function as the motivation for a decisive turn meant to state and define the traditional view supported by Plutarch. There is hardly any doubt, in fact, that the questions at stake were well known in the Greek literary and philosophical tradition: the commentaries to the work (Teodorsson’s, but also Fuhrmann’s and Chirico’s notes, though the latter’s are often defective) have already amply dis-

17

Cf. also Teodorsson (1989) 332. I can hardly understand Fuhrmann’s choice to give credit to Reiske’s old suggestion by correcting the name to Ἀουῖτος ὁ Θάσιος. This results in attributing a Roman name to a physician from Thasos and unnecessarily distorts the transmitted text. The corruption (or banalization) of Ἀθρύιτος to Ἀουῖτος might be understood, but the opposite is hardly envisageable. Actually the reading Ἀθρύιτος given by T is perfectly acceptable, and was rightly defended by both Hubert and Clement: the river Ἄθρυς flows through Thrace according to Herodotus (4,49), and it might have given rise to a personal name. The fact that at 651E the name is corrupted to λούιτε in T is hardly meaningful: it only shows that the copyist was not able to recognize this uncommon name (an exotic, certainly not Roman, one). Irene Chirico gives the name the Italianized form “Atrito” – an excessive adaptation. 18

80

ANGELO CASANOVA

cussed Plutarch’s statement that Aristotle (fr. 108 Rose) had studied the reasons why old men get drunk rapidly (τάχιστα) in a lost work entitled περὶ μέθης19. They also pointed out that this work by Aristotle is repeatedly quoted in Athenaeus (who remarks that young people get drunk rather soon), while in Gp. 7,34,2 the comparison is between women and old men. In view of this, we may limit ourselves to a short reference to Aristotle’s remark (PA 648a = DK 28 Parmenides A52) according to which “Parmenides states that women are hotter than men (…), Empedocles says the opposite”. At GA 765b Aristotle argues that male animals are hotter than females – an opinion on which he had also dwelt shortly before (GA 765a) to stress the fact that in human beings the difference between males and females is to be sought precisely in their natural heat. In particular, Ps.-Aristotle, Pr. 4,25,879a opposes men, as dry and hot, to women, as moist and cold. We might say, then, that in this discussion Plutarch and his friends take the opportunity to clarify the correct interpretation of some teachings of Aristotle’s. Actually, he carefully separates from the question at hand the tricky problem concerning wine, which will be treated later by itself, also resorting, in part, to Epicurus’ opinion. In this discussion, instead, he opposes the wrong interpretation of Aristotle’s views, upheld by Athryitus, to the correct one, lively defended by Florus20. As a matter of fact, in ch. 2 Athryitus argues that “they think” (scil. “some”, the same subject as with the preceding ἡγοῦνται, rather than an indefinite impersonal) that women are hot for five different reasons: 1. Because of the softness of their skin. They argue that in women heat consumes the residual part of nourishment (and therefore they are not hairy). 2. Women have so much (hot) blood that, if they did not have their period, it would burn and consume them. 3. Reportedly, the burners of corpses usually place one woman every ten men, in order to favour combustion. 4. The hotter the body, the readier to give life; consequently, women are hotter than men, since girls are ready to give life before boys.

19

Plutarch and Athenaeus often quote Aristotle’s Symposium with this title: see Aristotle, frs. 99–110 Rose. Cf. Laurenti (1987) 581–642. 20 Cf. Sandbach (1982) 244, who thinks that Plutarch is drawing from a lost collection of Problemata put together in an Aristotelian milieu (which is to say that he favors a literary source). Teodorsson (1989) 339 refers to Aristotle, fr. 221 Rose (and to Athenaeus, 434F, who also seems to go back to Peripatetic circles).

ARE WOMEN COLDER OR HOTTER THAN MEN? (QUAEST. CONV. 3,4) 81 5. Usually women withstand winter cold better than men, even with scant clothing. As easily noticeable, this is a heap of hackneyed and partly far-fetched observations, at the center of which stands a case – perhaps taken from mythical ‘geography’ or supposedly handed down from antiquity – which seems to be meant to impart ethnological or traditional ‘authority’ to the whole. These are basically groundless arguments or false interpretations of the Aristotelian tradition21, which Florus will easily reverse and refute. In chapter 3 he makes it absolutely clear that Athryitus’ opinion may be totally reversed by means of his very arguments. He then proceeds to take up each one, but in a reversed order: 5. Women withstand the cold better than men, because the similar can bear the similar (cf. Aristotle, GC 323a–324a). 4. Florus’ answer is twofold: 4a. It is not true that women acquire fertile seed (σπέρμα) before men: all they do is to provide matter and nourishment to man’s seed (cf. Aristotle, GA 729a: men provide εἶδος and ἀρχὴ τῆς κινήσεως, women σῶμα and ὕλη). Here Fuhrmann has greatly improved the text, which is corrupt in T (the verb is missing), by supplying < δοκεῖ >, already suggested by Paton. I rather think the negative μή would become more understandable by writing μὴ < νόμιζε >22 προγεγονέναι: “do not think that women acquire fertile seed before men, due to their cold nature, but that they only offer nourishing matter to men’s seed”. Aristotle never openly uses the term σπέρμα in reference to women, and neither does Plutarch, pace Teodorsson (and Chirico too)23.

21 It is not by chance that Teodorsson (1989) 333–334 is able to find Aristotelian parallels for each of Athryitus’ arguments. By contrast, his comments on Florus’ ‘corrections’ appear to be surprisingly hasty. 22 Florus addresses Athryitus with an imperative at the end of the chapter too (πυθοῦ). 23 Teodorsson (1989) correctly quotes Aristotle, GA 728a (ἀδυναμίᾳ γάρ τινι τὸ θῆλύ ἐστι, τῷ μὴ δύνασθαι πέττειν ἐκ τῆς τροφῆς σπέρμα (…) διὰ ψυχρότητα τῆς φύσεως) and other Aristotelian passages from which it can be gathered that women’s contribution to giving life can hardly be called σπέρμα: it can be said, at most, that ἔστι γὰρ τὰ καταμήνια σπέρμα οὐ καθαρὸν ἀλλὰ δεόμενον ἐργασίας. Quite surprisingly, though, Teodorsson adds that Plutarch unhesitatingly applies the term to women, and refers to Quaest. conv. 647B (where it is stated that rue damages the σπέρμα “and is extremely dangerous for pregnant women”: that is to say that it is harmful both to men and to pregnant women) and to De Is. et Os. 374F (where the point debated is precisely whether women’s seed is δύναμις and ἀρχή in the proper sense, or merely ὕλη and τροφὴ γενέσεως: that is, Aristotle’s opinion is only made the object of discussion). In my opinion, a greater cautiousness is in order. Chirico closely follows Teodorsson, and in her comment to 647B (p. 221, n. 75) concludes that in

82

ANGELO CASANOVA

4b.Women stop being fertile before men. 3. Women’s bodies burn better because they have more fat, which is the coldest component. This is perhaps the weakest argument: possibly it is Athryitus’ personal idea. Aristotle, PA 672a and Ps.-Aristotle, Pr. 8,4,887b seem to hold a different opinion: τὸ γὰρ λιπαρὸν θερμόν. 2a. Menstruation does not depend from plenty of blood, but from tainted blood, which is expelled due to its weakness and discarded for lack of heat. 2b.The shivers experienced by women during their period confirms that this blood is cold and inert (ἄπεπτον). 1a. The hot parts of the body are hairy: women have less hair, because they are colder than men. Smoothness of skin is caused by cold, which compacts surfaces, as stated by Aristotle (GA 783a). 1b. A further confirmation: if a man sleeps with a woman, whether he touches her or not, he gets dirty from the ointments she uses, because the male body is hotter and more dilated, and therefore more capable to draw things to itself. This last remark seems to be somewhat tongue-in-cheek: it sounds more jocular than serious. This too confirms, in my opinion, that these are real observations made at the time; they are not answers to capital problems of human physiology, but rather particular arguments, at times facetious, which may be put forward as an addition to a serious and systematic approach. Even Florus’ remarks, we may conclude, are not to be taken too seriously: they are probably nothing more than “a typical example of discussion held at drinking parties”, as observed by Teodorsson in his commentary (p. 337). Before we conclude, I would like to point out two different textual problems, the first one more serious than the second. In Athryitus’ speech, at 651B (ch. 2), his third argument is thus stated: τρίτον τοῦτο τὸ περὶ τὰς ταφὰς αἱρα τὰ θήλεα τῶν ἀρρένων εἶναι· λέγεται γὰρ ὑπὸ τῶν σκευωρουμένων †τὰ μὲν† συντίθεσθαι παρὰ δέκα νεκροὺς ἀνδρῶν ἕνα γυναικὸς κτλ. In the first line a six/seven-letter lacuna has been brilliantly filled out by Stephanus, who has been followed by all editors. In the next line the words τὰ μὲν are meaningless, and have been marked with the crux by Hubert, Fuhrmann, and Chirico, while Clement’s Loeb text has τὰ Plutarch “il termine σπέρμα … altrove designa l’ovulo femminile (cf. 651C)” – which is obviously wrong.

ARE WOMEN COLDER OR HOTTER THAN MEN? (QUAEST. CONV. 3,4) 83 νομιζόμενα (as proposed by Hubert in the apparatus); others tried various corrections: τάδε, ταῦτα, τὰ τοιαῦτα, and the like. None seems satisfactory, because, in all likelihood, οἱ σκευωρούμενοι simply designates those who dispose of corpses24, and is used as a noun: it seems therefore unlikely that it should govern an accusative. However, as remarked by Fuhrmann (p. 124 and n. 4), there is a further, and worse, debasement of the text. It occurs in the third of Athryitus’ arguments, which seemingly introduces in the text an element of ethnographical mold, harking back to the tradition of the mirabilia handed down in exotic tales, purporting to transmit geographical or antiquarian lore. The text may be translated even leaving the words τὰ μέν aside: “they say that those in charge of the disposing of corpses place one female dead body near ten of men, and burn them together, because women’s flesh has something resinous and greasy in it, and therefore makes the burning of the other corpses easier”. Syntactically, nothing is missing in the sentence. I would like to point out that, from the very first reading, it seems hardly possible for ὑπὸ τῶν σκευωρουμένων to be taken as governed by λέγεται (which should rather be understood as impersonal): given the matter described, it should probably be construed as functioning as agent governed by συντίθεσθαι. As a consequence, in my opinion, συντίθεσθαι is not a middle, as upheld by Teodorsson25, but rather a passive verb, as confirmed by the presence of an agent we just pointed out. In my opinion a determination of time or space of ampler or lesser compass has fallen off. Clearly, the observation does not refer to a situation contemporary with Plutarch’s speakers, since at their time the dead were interred, but to a period in which they were incinerated. It may refer to the past recorded by epic poetry, in which case a single adverbial expression may be missing, such as “of old” (πρῶ>τα μὲν?); or it may point to foreign customs from far away lands, where incineration is practiced. The present infinitive συντίθεσθαι drives me to favor the latter alternative. One might think of the exotic customs of India, though the speaker Athryitus being from Thasos suggests an allusion to the peoples of nearby Thrace. One could then try something like κα>τὰ μὲν τὰ

24 The terms σκευωρέω and σκευωρία are found several times in Plutarch (cf. LSJ s.v.) in the sense of “scheming” or “inspecting”, and “surveillance”, “constant care”, “careful watch”: the etymology (σκεῦος and ὁράω) suggests that watchmen, wardens, and, generally, people in charge of the task in question are meant here. 25 Teodorsson (1989) 334 believes that “the active συνεξάπτειν shows that συντίθεσθαι is middle”; in my opinion, however, the passage from the active to the passive, implying a change of the grammatical subject, is absolutely normal in the spoken language (and in the prose intending to mirror it).

84

ANGELO CASANOVA

μὲν τὰ μὲν < λοιμούς)26: a clear allusion to Thucydides’ report of the plague at Athens. This would better explain the numbers: “a woman every ten men”. The cruces will of course remain in the text, but this hypothesis might be suggested in the apparatus27. The last, minor textual problem may follow. At the end of ch. 3, that is at the end of the question, something is surely missing after ἕλκοντος. The text as it is can hardly stand: ἀναπίμπλανται γὰρ αὐτοὶ τοῦ χρίσματος ἐν τῷ συγκαθεύδειν, κἂν μὴ θίγωσι μηδὲ προσάψωνται τῶν γυναικῶν, διὰ θερμότητα καὶ μανότητα τοῦ σώματος ἕλκοντος (“men become infected with the ointment during their sleep, even if they do not touch or get in contact with the women, because their body draws (it) to itself due to its heat and porousness”). But the final absolute genitive actually hangs in the air, since the object of ἕλκοντος is missing: “since their body, due to its heat and porousness, draws to itself (…)”. In T the text of the next question immediately follows (εἰ ψυχρότερος τῇ δυνάμει ὁ οἶνος), though some recentiores mark a lacuna. One line may have fallen off, as Wyttenbach thought. Or maybe only an accusative is missing. My hypothesis is that only τὸ ψυχρότερον has fallen off. It is based on the idea that the opposites attract each other; and this single word would reaffirm the general assumption that men are hotter than women – a word whose disappearance may be due to haplography, given the title of the next question (εἰ ψυχρότερος). The conclusion we may draw, then, is that Plutarch has intended to record in these pages a real discussion he happened to witness, during which some minor questions about women and wine had found answers and explications involving references to scientific works belonging in the Aristotelian tradition. Nevertheless, in spite of Sullas’ authoritative opinion, the physician Athryitus from Thasos tried to uphold the old opinion – going as far back as Parmenides – that women’s bodies are hotter than men’s. The opposite view, vigorously defended by Florus, is undoubtedly the correct one.

26 I do not think that the μέν solitarium, with no correlated δέ, poses any real problem. The clause with δέ may be easily supplied through the implication that now the usage has changed (i.e. incineration is not practiced any more). On the μέν solitarium see Denniston (19542) 380–384. 27 Hubert and Fuhrmann record in the apparatus Pohlenz’s conjecture τὰς ἐν (governed by σκευωρουμένων), which is conceptually close to our proposal.

ARE WOMEN COLDER OR HOTTER THAN MEN? (QUAEST. CONV. 3,4) 85 Plutarch’s expression is brisk and to the point, with hardly any literary elaboration. Unfortunately the text that came down to us is marred by several lacunae and faulty readings. At times, it is not presented in a satisfactory way in any of the editions currently used. Angelo Casanova Università degli Studi di Firenze Bibliography Chirico, I. (2001), Plutarco. Conversazioni a tavola, libro III. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi Moralium 35). Clement, P.A. – Hoffleit, H.B. (1969), Plutarch’s Moralia, vol. VIII (Table-Talk), Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Denniston, J.D. (19542), The Greek Particles, Oxford. Fuhrmann, F. (1972), Plutarque. Œuvres Morales, tome IX, 1 (Propos de table), Paris (CUF). Graf, E. (1888), “Plutarchisches. Entstehungsweise der Symposiaka”, in Commentationes philologae quibus Ottoni Ribbeckio praeceptori inlustri sexagensimum [sic] aetatis magisterii Lipsiensis decimum annum exactum congratulantur discipuli Lipsienses, Leipzig, 57–70. Hirzel, R. (1895), Der Dialog. Ein literarhistorisches Versuch, Leipzig. Hubert, K. (1911), “Zur Entstehung der Tischgespräche Plutarchs”, in Χάριτες, Friedrich Leo zum sechzigsten Geburtstag dargebracht, Berlin, 170–187. Hubert, C. (1971), Plutarchi Moralia, vol. IV, editio altera (= 19381), Lipsiae (BT). Laurenti, R. (1987), Aristotele. I frammenti dei dialoghi, Napoli. Sandbach, F.H. (1982), “Plutarch and Aristotle”, ICS 7, 207–232. Teodorsson, S.-T. (1989), A Commentary on Plutarch’s Table Talks, vol. 1, Göteborg. Ziegler, K. (1965), Plutarco, edizione italiana a cura di B. Zucchelli, Brescia (orig. ed.: Id. (1951), “Plutarchos von Chaironeia”, in RE XXI.1, Stuttgart, 636–962).

Plutarch and the Commentary on the Phaenomena of Aratus* PAOLA VOLPE CACCIATORE ὁ γὰρ ἥλιος ὁ ταῦτα πάντα δημιουργῶν – Theophrastus, Ign. 4,351,16 In his famous entry on ‘Plutarchos’ in the Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, K. Ziegler labeled as ‘Naturwissenschaftliche Schriften’ those treatises in which the Chaeronean gives centrality to natural phenomena and their ‘scientific’ explanations. Among these writings, which clearly demonstrate Plutarch’s interest in the world around him and the physical mechanisms that animate it, Ziegler categorizes De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet, De primo frigido, Aquane an ignis sit utilior, Quaestiones naturales and the part of Quaestiones convivales that is devoted to natural-medical problems. It goes without saying that this list is limited to those writings that have been preserved in a (more or less) complete and definitive editorial version. Several other treatises that dealt with natural scientific matters have only been preserved in fragmentary form, as a quick glance at the titles of Plutarch’s fragments (collected by Sandbach) shows. Of particular interest for us are the relics of the commentaries Plutarch wrote on three famous didactic poems: Hesiod’s Erga, Aratus’ Phaenomena and Nicander’s Theriaca. At times, Plutarch’s exegetical method in these fragments (conserved in the rich scholia tradition, where they are often distinguishable by the expression οὕτω Πλούταρχος or just Πλούταρχος) gives way almost entirely to the search for ‘scientific’ explanations. In these instances, Plutarch the commentator – like Plutarch the ‘natural scientist’ of Quaestiones naturales – assumes the task of unraveling the cause that lies hidden behind what the poets tell, be it farmer lore (Hesiod), celestial phenomena (Aratus) or pharmacological procedures (Nicander).

*

Text and English translation modified by MM.

88

PAOLA VOLPE CACCIATORE

Admirable examples of this interpretive approach are the fragments of the commentary on Aratus’ didactic poem1. The contribution at hand will be mainly concerned with frs. 13–15, which contain Plutarch’s comments on vv. 819–831 of Aratus’ Phaenomena (lines dealing with the visual appearance of the sun and its rays of light)2: fr. 13 (on v. 820) Αἱ τοῦ ἡλίου πρὸς τὸν ἀέρα διαφοραὶ κυριώτεραι τῶν τῆς σελήνης εἰσί· δυναστεύων γὰρ ἡμέρας σαφέστερα δείκνυσι τὰ τεκμήρια. δεύτερον δὲ ὅτι λαμπρότερός ἐστι, καὶ εἰ μὴ μεγάλη καὶ ἰσχυρὰ τοῦ ἀέρος εἴη μεταβολή, οὐκ ἂν κρατηθείη· τὰς γὰρ μικρὰς καὶ ἐλαφρὰς ἀναστέλλει καὶ σκεδάννυσιν· οὕτω Πλούταρχος. Conflicts of the sun with the air are more important than those of the moon. Being dominant by day, it provides evidence that is plainer. A second reason is that the sun is brighter, and could not be mastered unless there were a great and violent change in the air. For it brushes small, slight changes aside and disperses them. Thus Plutarch. fr. 14 (on v. 828) Αἱ ἐν τῷ ἡλίῳ κοιλότητες οὔκ εἰσιν αὐτοῦ, φαντασίαι δ’ εἰσὶ τῆς ὄψεως κατ’ ἐπιπρόσθεσιν ζοφεροῦ ἀέρος. οὐ γὰρ τὸ μέσον ὁρᾶται ἀλλ’ ἡ κύκλῳ ἁψίς· λαμπρὰ δὲ οὖσα καὶ περιφέγγουσα τὸ ἐκλιπὲς ἔμφασιν κοιλότητος παρέχει. ὃν 1 According to Pohlenz (1984) 169, however, Aratus’ verses “wollten nicht ein theoretisches Lehrgedicht sein, sondern dem Leben dienen. Denn in der klaren Luft des Südens, die den Sternen eine uns Nordländer immer wieder überraschende Leuchtkraft gibt, luden die Himmelserscheinungen von selbst zur Beobachtung ein und ersetzten dem Schiffer den Kompaß, dem Bauern den Kalender (…). Denn hinter der Schönheit und Regelmäßigkeit der Gestirnbewegungen erblickt das Auge des Dichters die eine alles erfüllend und gestaltende Gottheit, die droben am Himmel sichtbare Zeichen befestigt und den Verlauf des Jahres geregelt hat, auf daß der Mensch zur rechten Zeit seine Arbeit vollbringen und das Feld bestellen könne, dessen Früchte er für sein Leben braucht.” (“did not want to be a poem that teaches, but rather a guide for life. In the clear southern atmosphere, where the stars shine with surprising brightness, the celestial phenomena are by themselves an invitation to observe and they act as a substitute for the calendar both for the sailor and the farmer. However, behind the beauty and the regularity of the movements of the stars the poet’s eye glimpses the divinity that both fills and forms everything, who up in heaven has fixed visible signs and has regulated the course of the seasons so that man may perform his work at the right time and cultivate the fields, whose fruit he needs to live.”) 2 Text and translation by Sandbach (1969) 88–93. See also Volpe Cacciatore (2010) 52–55 (with Italian translation by Dr. Anna Caramico).

PLUTARCH AND THE COMMENTARY ON THE PHAENOMENA OF ARATUS 89 τρόπον γὰρ οἱ ζῳγράφοι ἀντρώδεις τόπους γράφοντες φωτὶ τραχύνουσι τὴν ὄψιν, ἅτε τῇ φύσει τοῦ μὲν λαμπροῦ προβάλλοντος ἔξω καὶ διωθοῦντος τὴν φαντασίαν τοῦ δὲ μέλανος ὑποσκιάζειν καὶ βαθύνεσθαι δοκοῦντος, οὕτω καὶ περὶ τὸν ἥλιον τὸ φαινόμενον τῇ ὄψει κατὰ ἀντίφραξιν τοῦ ἀέρος ἐκκοπὴν τοῦ μέσου λαμπροῦ διὰ τὴν σκιὰν ποιεῖ ὑποφαίνεσθαι. Ὃ ὅλην ποιεῖ τὴν ἀντίφραξιν· ὁ ἀὴρ σφόδρα πιληθεὶς καὶ παχὺς ζοφωθεὶς διὰ χειμέριον τὸ ζῴδιον. Πλούταρχος. ‘Hollows’ in the sun are not real features of the sun, but optical illusions due to the interposition of dark air. What is seen is not the centre, but the circular rim; that rim, however, being bright and shining all round the part that is invisible, gives it an appearance of concavity. For as artists, when painting cavernous places, use light to affect the eye by contrast, since a bright colour naturally gives the impression of jutting out and pushing forward, while a dark one seems to be overshadowed and to lie in a deeper plane, similarly in the case of the sun what appears to our sight when air is interposed suggests, because of the shadow cast, the hollowing out of the centre of the bright disc (…); fr. 15 (on vv. 829–830) Ὥσπερ ἐπὶ τῶν ὀφθαλμικῶν, ὅταν συμβαίνῃ κοιλαίνεσθαι τοὺς ὀφθαλμούς, δηλονότι ἐξασθενήσαντος τοῦ σώματος, ἢ ὥσπερ ὅταν βλέφαρον καταγαγόντες ἢ περιθλίψαντες τῷ λύχνῳ τὴν ὄψιν προσβάλλωμεν, οὐ φαίνεται συνεχὲς τὸ φῶς ἀλλὰ πλάγιαι καὶ σποράδες αἱ αὐγαί· οὕτως ὅταν ἀχλὺς ἢ νέφωσις ἀνώμαλος πρὸ τοῦ ἡλίου στᾶσα περιθλίψῃ καὶ σείσῃ τὸν τῆς ὄψεως κῶνον εἰς λεπτὰς ἀκτῖνας καὶ ῥαβδοειδεῖς, ὃ πάσχομεν αὐτοὶ τῇ αἰσθήσει, τοῦτο περὶ τὸν ἥλιον εἶναι δοκοῦμεν. οὕτω . We may compare the experience of those who suffer from eye-trouble, when it results in their becoming hollow-eyed (through physical weakness of course), or what happens when we direct our vision towards a lamp after pulling down the eyelid or pressing round the eye. The light does not appear continuous, but in scattered, slanting rays. Similarly, when a mist or uneven cloud-formation, stationed in front of the sun, presses round the cone of vision and disturbs it so as to produce narrow rod-like beams, we attribute to the sun what is really an effect upon ourselves in the act of sensation. Thus Plutarch. Aratus’ original text runs as follows (vv. 819–831): ἠελίοιο δέ τοι μελέτω ἑκάτερθεν ἰόντος. ἠελίῳ καὶ μᾶλλον ἐοικότα σήματα κεῖται,

[820]

90

PAOLA VOLPE CACCIATORE ἀμφότερον δύνοντι καὶ ἐκ περάτης ἀνιόντι. μή οἱ ποικίλλοιτο νέον βάλλοντος ἀρούρας κύκλος, ὅτ᾽ εὐδίου κεχρημένος ἤματος εἴης, μηδέ τι σῆμα φέροι, φαίνοιτο δὲ λιτὸς ἁπάντη. εἰ δ᾽ αὕτως καθαρόν μιν ἔχοι βουλύσιος ὥρη, δύνοι δ᾽ ἀνέφελος μαλακὴν ὑποδείελος αἴγλην, καί κεν ἐπερχομένη ἠοῦς ἔθ᾽ ὑπεύδιος εἴη. ἀλλ᾽ οὐχ ὁππότε κοῖλος ἐειδόμενος περιτέλλῃ, οὐδ᾽ ὁπότ᾽ ἀκτίνων αἱ μὲν νότον αἱ δὲ βορῆα σχιζόμεναι βάλλωσι, τὰ δ᾽ αὖ περὶ μέσσα φαείνῃ, ἀλλά που ἢ ὑετοῖο διέρχεται ἢ ἀνέμοιο.

[825]

[830]

Observe the sun as it follows its course towards the east or towards the west; then still more visible are the σήματα in the sun both when it rises and when it sets3, and also when it is on the horizon. Its disk does not change when for the first time it hits the earth4, in any place you may happen to be, on a calm day it does not show any σῆμα but appears completely clear. If it is so pure at sunset, at evening it disappears together with its bright beams. It will be visible again when the dawn comes, but not when, appearing hollow, it rises nor when its beams dividing themselves hit both east and west, while the central nucleus appears much more luminous and that happens because of the rain and the wind. In v. 824, σῆμα is properly ‘an atmospheric sign’ that underscores the value of the verb ποικίλλοιτο (v. 822) and is opposed to λιτός5. Long before Plutarch wrote his commentaries, ancient philosophers had already contemplated about the marvellous nature of that star (the sun) that illuminates the earth, dives in the sea and reappears each day. Anaximander defined its orbit as that of a chariot wheel and believed that it had a concave form full of fire6; Xenophanes believed that it was composed of little fires sparked from the humid exhalation from the clouds; and the Stoics thought that it was composed out of the inflamed exhalations of the sea. Plato remembers how “that lamp, that we now call the sun, is illuminated in the second circle after the earth so that it may shine as much as possible for the whole sky; and all animals, to which it is agreeable, may take part in the science of numbers, learning it from

3

Cf. Ptolemaeus, Tetr. 2,14,1. Cf. Homer, Il. 14,590; Ptolemaeus, Tetr. 2,14,2; Vergilius, G. 1,441. 5 Cf. Homer, Il. 23,455 (λευκὸν σῆμα); see also Pliny, NH 18,342 ( purus oriens atque fervens serenum diem nuntiat). 6 Aëtius, 2,20,1. 4

PLUTARCH AND THE COMMENTARY ON THE PHAENOMENA OF ARATUS 91 the turning of the same and like. The night therefore and the day were born like that and by these causes, and they are the period of the unique and most wise circular movement (…)”7. Anaxagoras, Democritus and Metrodorus described the sun as a pebble or as red hot iron, Aristotle as a round body composed of the fifth element, viz. aether (i.e. “an element that is different from the other four, being pure and divine”)8. Philolaus the Pythagorean saw it as a glass-like body that transmits the light and heat of the cosmic fire to the earth. Empedocles, in turn, imagined two suns, the first being the archetype, that is the primary fire, and the second – the one we see – none other than a reflected image9. Theophrastus discussed the nature of the sun and its possible fiery form, in such terms that it “would be at the same time the beginning, and at the same time it would spread”10. In De facie 928BC Plutarch describes the sun and the moon as follows: (…) the sun in the heart’s capacity transmits and disperses out of himself heat and light as if it were blood and breath, and earth and sea ‘naturally’ serve the cosmos to the ends that bowels and bladder do an animal. The moon, situate between sun and earth as the liver or another of the soft viscera is between heart and bowels, transmits hither the warmth from above and sends upwards the exhalations from our region, refining them in herself by a kind of concoction and purification. It is not clear to us whether her earthiness and solidity have any use suitable to other ends also11. 7

Plato, Ti. 38d–39c. Ps.-Aristotle, Mu. 392a5–9. 9 The ancients also discussed the size of the sun and its figure: see Plac. philos. 889F. 10 Theophrastus, Ign. 6,351,44. 11 Translations of De facie by Cherniss (1957). Cf. Pohlenz (1984) 223–224: “Sie ist das Herz des Kosmos, der Sitz seiner Lebenskraft, der Quelle alles physischen und (…) geistigen Lebens. Sie ist es, die das All erhellt und erwärmt und durch ihre von der Vorsehung vorgezeichnete Bahn die Harmonie des Kosmos wirkt. Sie weckt auf der Erde alles Leben und bewirkt, daß Pflanzen und Tiere wachsen und reifen können. Sie bringt den Wechsel von Tag und Nacht, von Sommer und Winter hervor, bedingt das Klima, färbt die Menschen schwarz, weiß oder gelblich, macht den Boden trocken oder feucht, fruchtbar oder öde (…). Verließe sie ihre Bahn oder verschwände sie ganz, müßte alles Leben erlöschen und der ganze Kosmos zusammenstürzen.” (“The sun, therefore, is the heart of the cosmos, the seat of the vital force, the spring of every physical life (…) of every spiritual life. It is the sun that lights up and heats the universe and (…) gives origin to the harmony of the cosmos. On the earth it gives rise to every form of life and makes it possible for plants and animals to grow and reach maturity. It determines the process of both day and night, of summer and winter, it conditions the climates, colours men’s skin either black or white or yellow. It makes the ground either dry or humid, fertile or desert (…). If it should change its orbit or disappear completely the whole cosmos would fall apart.”) 8

92

PAOLA VOLPE CACCIATORE

It seems worth recalling what Donini12 affirms about the Stoic origin of this passage: on the one hand, to compare the sun with the heart of the cosmos is “in perfetta coerenza con il cardiocentrismo stoico”13, on the other, “se qui Plutarco avesse ragionato da buon platonico e interprete attento del Timeo avrebbe piuttosto dovuto trovare qualche analogia con il cervello, cui realmente spetta nel dialogo di Platone la sede e la funzione più importante”14. Further on, Plutarch writes that in virtue of its central position and nature, the sunlight passes through the air, which offers no resistance, so that the earth itself is illuminated, but it does not allow itself to be penetrated completely as happens to the water and the air (De facie 931BC): At any rate, the same sunlight that the air (!) lets pass without impediment or resistance is widely reflected and diffused from wood and stone and clothing exposed to its rays. The earth too we see illuminated by the sun in this fashion. It does not let the light penetrate its depths as water does or pervade it through and through as air does. It is exactly with regard to the air that the differences with the moon are more relevant – says Plutarch, when he comments on vv. 819–820 of Aratus’ Phaenomena (see fr. 13 above): “observe the sun when it travels from east to west, that is when its signs are more visible, both when it sets and when it rises on the horizon”. The explanation given by Plutarch is that the sun, shining during the day, is more visible. It is also “more luminous (than the moon), unless there happened to be a big strong change in the air, that could not be overcome”: indeed small and insignificant changes, by contrast, do not ‘disturb’ it. However, one could add yet another plausible explanation: the sun dissolves the vapours that arise from the ground thanks to its force, or thanks to the fact that, when compared to the moon, it is stronger and its beams are more effective. Aratus also wonders why the σήματα are more visible not only at dawn, but also at sunset or when the sun is at the centre of the sky. Perhaps this is due – as we read in some of the marginal notes – to the fact that those are the exact moments of the day when the sun

12 Donini (2011) 5, n. 117. See also Plato, Ti. 44d–e, 69c–d and 73c–d. For further detail on Plutarch’s anthropomorphic view of the cosmos, see the contribution of Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta to this volume. 13 (“perfectly consistent with Stoic cardiocentrism”) 14 (“If here Plutarch had reasoned as a good Platonist and careful interpreter of the Timaeus, he would rather have had to find some analogy with the brain, to which in Plato’s dialogue, really pertains the seat and the more important function.”)

PLUTARCH AND THE COMMENTARY ON THE PHAENOMENA OF ARATUS 93 receives πάχη καὶ μεταβολὰς διὰ τὰς ἀναθυμιάσεις ἃς ἡ γῆ ἀναδίδωσι. Here the reference is to the sun attractive force that comes about by the tension (tonos) inherent to its fire15, which contributes to the unity and to the compactness of all natural bodies16. In the following fragment, fr. 14, Plutarch examines v. 828 of Aratus’ Phaenomena: ἀλλ᾽ οὐχ ὁππότε κοῖλος ἐειδόμενος περιτέλλῃ. The ancient philosophers questioned at length the shape of the sun (see Ps.-Plutarch, Plac. philos. 890D): Anaximenes believed that it was wide ὡς πέταλον; Heraclitus that it was like a concave object, σκαφοειδῆ; the Stoics that it was concave like the world or the stars; and Epicurus accepted all of the above possibilities. Plutarch’s comment on Aratus’ verse is based on an observation that derives from sense perception (viz. sight), which is openly rejected since “the sun’s cavities do not belong to it but are rather optical illusions (φαντασίαι), caused by the overlapping of misty air”, i.e. by a miscomprehension in the mind, as occurs when we have dreams. The term phantasia, in the meaning here attested, has obvious Stoic connotations. Chrysippus17 linked this notion etymologically to φῶς, affirming that: “Fantasy is an empty attraction. Namely an affectation that takes place in the soul in the absence of an object, as though one put out one’s hand towards a battle of shadows or towards empty forms. Consequently, while on the one hand a real object underlies the representation, nothing corresponds to the fantasy. Only [with] the greater condensation and density of the air, the central part of the sun will not be visible, but only the outside part will appear to shine – like the circle of a wheel – which, being very luminous, will give the impression, the phantasia, of the concave figure”. In order to explain such a phenomenon (that is the light-shade contrast), Plutarch resorted to the comparison of the art of painters, who usually paint in white what they want to highlight and in black what is dug out and sometimes deep (just as in the case of caves)18. In the case of the sun, this happens “naturally because the splendour looking out onto the external part and pushing away the vision of the black seems to create the optical illusion of getting darker and of being of greater depth”. Here the verb διωθέω, which recurs in Plato, Ti. 68a, is used to refer to colours and particles that break away from the bodies and join the sight. Cf. Ti.

15 16 17 18

De Stoic. rep. 1034D. De Stoic. rep. 1054F. See also De facie 924C–E. SVF 2,21 = Radice (1998) 318. See also De prof. in virt. 53D; 64D; De coh. ira 452F; Quaest. conv. 8,725C.

94

PAOLA VOLPE CACCIATORE

67d–68a: “The particles may be either smaller or larger or of the same size as those of sight itself. Those particles that have the same size do not produce any sensation, and that is why they are called transparent; whereas those particles that are larger or smaller (the first of which having the capacity to contract the sight and the latter to dilate it) determine an effect similar to that produced by heat and cold on the flesh (…). It is therefore both black and white that determine the same impression of those substances (…), white is the colour that dilates sight and its opposite black.” Another important passage that we should keep in mind is De genio Socr. 575CD, where Plutarch makes a neat distinction between the common people that lack specific knowledge and the experts: “the first obtain inaccurate performance as if it were a mere sketch; whereas the others use their critical judgement for a separate scrutiny of each detail, and thus allow nothing well or poorly executed to pass without a look or word of recognition”. Arguably, the same may occur to those who trust on their sense perception and, therefore, believe that the sun has a concave shape, thus falling prey to an (epistemological) error since, due to the compressed and dense air, the star appears divided between the shadow of its central nucleus and the splendour of its edge. Donini notes: “Rimane incerto se Plutarco si riferisca alla corona solare (nel qual caso la sua sarebbe una delle rarissime testimonianze dell’osservazione di questo fenomeno nell’antichità) oppure semplicemente ad una eclissi anulare”19. The density of the air is exactly what determines yet another phenomenon, namely the division of the solar rays (σχιζόμεναι), mentioned in fr. 15 (i.e. Plutarch’s comment on Aratus’ vv. 829–830). Plutarch resorts to the experience of one who has his eyes hooded because of bodily illness or one who lowers his eyelids or who narrows them when coming close to a light. In this case, the light does not appear linear, but its rays are oblique and diffuse themselves from one side to another20. This takes place in the same way as when a mist or an irregular cloudiness covers the sun: in that case, its rays will be faint and streaky, when we perceive them. One may wonder what Plutarch is alluding to when he mentions the ‘irregular cloudiness’ that disturbs the cone of the rays visible to us. It is not unlikely that he is referring to a phenomenon similar to the sunset illuminating the south with twilight, as described in De facie 931E. Here,

19

Donini (2011) 303. See also Cherniss (1957) 11; Görgemanns (1970) 136–139. (It remains uncertain whether Plutarch is referring to the sun’s crown (in that case his testimony would be a very rare one of the observation of this phenomenon in ancient times) or rather to a ringed eclipse.) 20 Cf. Aristotle, Mete. 344a15; 370b5.

PLUTARCH AND THE COMMENTARY ON THE PHAENOMENA OF ARATUS 95 we are reminded of the poetical definitions of Stesichorus and Pindar who suffer because of “the star’s bright rape” and say that “the night comes because of the day”, and that the sun’s ray “hurries along the pathway of the dark”; and again Homer says that “by night and darkness the likenesses of men are wrapped”. The idea that the night is the shadow of the earth21 is formulated in De prim. frig. 953A and fr. 201 Sandbach: “the astronomers say that the night is the shadow of the earth that often touches the moon” and “the eclipse of the sun is the shadow of the moon when the sight finds itself in it”22. As for the division (σχιζόμεναι) of the sun rays we should add what Plutarch himself says in the conclusion of the comment on Aratus’ verses: “that which we undergo by means of perception, we believe to be of the sun”, the reason being that we are deceived by the congenital weakness of our sight. In a similar way, Seneca speaks of parhelions, namely of “images of the sun that appear in a thick cloud and curved like a mirror (…). Sometimes two parhelions are formed at the same time (…), and some others are of this idea: every time two images of that kind appear, one reflects the image of the sun, the other the image of the image.”23 According to Aratus, the parhelions are signs of rain, since each time a reflected image circles the sun on both sides, wintery storm erupts (vv. 880ff.). μηδ᾽, ὅτε (…) (…) πῦρ αὔηται σπουδῇ καὶ ὑπεύδια λύχνα, πιστεύειν χειμῶνι.

[1035]

And do not (…) believe in the winter when in the calm sky fire and lamps are lit with difficulty. In commenting on this passage, Plutarch tackles the problem of the negative effect of damp air and its density on lighting fire: fr. 16 (on vv. 1033–1036) Τὰ καυστὰ βραδέως ἐξάπτεται παχυμεροῦς τοὺς πόρους ἐπιφράττοντος τοῦ ἀέρος· διόπερ οἱ τὰς δᾷδας ἅπτοντες προτρίβουσιν ἐν τῇ τέφρᾳ, ἵνα ἀποκρουσθῇ εἴ τι ἔνικμον [ᾖ] καὶ τὸ πῦρ τῆς ὕλης μᾶλλον ἅψηται. οὕτω . Combustibles are slow to take fire when the air is composed of large 21

See Aristotle, Top. 146b28; Mete. 345b7. See Donini (2011) 301, n. 210. 23 See Seneca, QN 1,11,3; 1,13,1–2 (referring to DK59 Anaxagoras A8 and Aristotle, Mete. 372a10). 22

96

PAOLA VOLPE CACCIATORE particles and blocks their pores. Hence when people are lighting torches they first rub them in the ashes, to brush off any moisture there may be, so that the fire may take a better hold of the wood. Thus Plutarch24.

In order to clarify this fragment, it is necessary to start from Aratus’ text. It is not my intention to dwell on the elliptic construction of μηδ᾽ (…) πιστεύειν (for which see Kidd – who in his formulation takes up the verb αὔω (employed in the middle passive αὔηται), already found in Od. 5,490, and typical of Homer’s poem; see below)25; I would rather like to take up the subject in order to contextualize the philosopher’s comment. Plutarch is probably referring to the story of Odysseus, who on arriving at the island of Calypso, so Homer writes, seeks a place to rest. After having found such a place, Odysseus covers himself with “a lot of leaves, just as when one covers a firebrand with brown ashes (…) conserving the seed of the flame so that he does not have to light it” (Od. 5,488–490). This is what people do when they want to light a fire (sc. they eliminate every trace of dampness first), so this explains why the ashes preserve the flame. But why is it so (in the analogous case) that even when there is a calm sky, it is so difficult to light a fire – to the extent that people even believe that it predicts the coming of a winter storm26? What is its natural cause? As Plutarch explains, the fact that lamps do not easily light up points at the dampness of an impending storm, indicating that the air is denser, thus obstructing the fire. In a fragment of Physica handed down by Aetius we read something similar: “Empedocles and the Stoics maintain that it is winter when the air acquires force by becoming denser and it is driven higher. On the other hand, it is summer when the fire is driven violently lower”27. That is why οἱ τὰς δᾷδας ἅπτοντες προτρίβουσιν ἐν τῇ τέφρᾳ. Conclusion Our examination of four (of the eight) fragments of Plutarch’s commentary on Aratus’ Phaenomena clearly demonstrates the aetiological character of Plutarch’s exegetical method. Whereas the poet’s verses have the sole purpose of describing (with errors and inaccuracies) what happens in the sky, the Chaeronean adds his own tentative explanations and tries to find the causes of the phenomena under discussion. In doing so, Plutarch 24

Sandbach (1969) 15–16. Kidd (1998) 538. 26 Theophrastus mentions the same phenomenon in De signis (ἐὰν πῦρ μὴ θέλῃ ἅπτεσθαι χειμέριον), repeated by Pliny, NH 18,358 (ventum nuntiant lumina, cum ex sese flammas elidunt aut vix accenduntur). 27 SVF 2,202 = Radice (1998) 680. 25

PLUTARCH AND THE COMMENTARY ON THE PHAENOMENA OF ARATUS 97 goes beyond the stage of mere observation (i.e. the field of empirical data acquired via sense perception), since he very well knows – in his capacity of an expert Platonist – that our sensory faculties can be easily misled by nature’s mirabilia. Moreover, in composing his commentary, Plutarch certainly did not ignore the scientific tradition or more recent debates, but it is difficult to determine (on the basis of only one single source) what was his opinion of the work, for instance, of the Stoic Boethus of Sidon (1st century B.C.), author of a commentary of at least four books of Aratus’ writings. As the extant fragments seem to suggest, it is at least safe to conclude that Plutarch took an original position in contemporary Aratus scholarship, in that he intertwined elements deriving from different schools of thought in his exegetical approach (viz. Platonism, Aristotelianism and Stoicism) blending them in a coherent, though fragmented, approach. Paola Volpe Cacciatore Università degli Studi di Salerno Bibliography Cherniss, H. (1957), Plutarch’s Moralia, vol. XII (De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet – De primo frigido – Aquane an ignis sit utilior – Terrestriane an aquatilia animalia sint callidiora – Bruta animalia ratione uti, sive Gryllus – De esu carnium orationes II), Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Donini, P. (2011), Plutarco. Il volto della luna. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi Moralium 48). Görgemanns, H. (1970), Untersuchungen zu Plutarchs Dialog de facie in orbe lunae, Heidelberg. Kidd, D. (1997), Aratus: Phaenomena, Cambridge. Pohlenz, M. (1984), Die Stoa. Geschichte einer geistigen Bewegung, Bd. 1, Göttingen (l. Aufl. 1948). Radice, R. (1998), Stoici antichi, Tutti i frammenti, raccolti da Hans von Arnim, introduzione, traduzione, note e apparati di R. Radice. Presentazione di G. Reale. Testo greco a fronte, Milano. Sandbach, F.H. (1969), Plutarch’s Moralia, vol. XV (Fragments), Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Volpe Cacciatore, P. (2010), Plutarco. Frammenti, Napoli (Strumenti per la ricerca plutarchea 6).

The Moon as Agent of Decay (Plut., Quaest. conv. 3,10; Macr., Sat. 7,16,15–34) ALDO SETAIOLI 1. The tenth and last debate of the third book of Plutarch’s Table Talks proposes a problem clearly stated in the title: “Why meat spoils more easily in moonlight than under the sun”1. In the text of the debate the problem is posed by the host, Euthydemus of Sunium, and another point is added by a guest, Satyrus, who takes no further part in the discussion: why copper nails stuck in the flesh of felled animals stop the decay. Euthydemus’ question is first answered by the physician Moschion, according to whom the reason must be sought in the moon’s soft and subdued heat, which humidifies the meat, whereas the sun’s hotter rays dry it up. A second answer is then offered by Plutarch himself, in a detailed speech that takes up the rest of the debate. According to him, the rotting of meat in the moonlight is due not to a different intensity in the heat from the sun and the moon, but to the humidifying power of moonbeams, which is capable to release and set in motion the moisture present in every object and in dead bodies in particular. This flux causes the putrefaction of meat as well as a number of phenomena, all connected with its humidifying and laxative power, such as the softening and rotting of wood, but also the growth of plants and animals, easier child-delivery, and so forth. The effect of copper nails is then explained in two different ways: copper either has a curative power or concentrates all humidity around itself, thus saving the rest of the meat from going bad. As he frequently does, Plutarch supports his argument with literary quotations; there are three (from Archilochus2, Homer,3 and Ion4) in Moschion’s explanation, and 1

Quaest. conv. 3,10,657E: διὰ τί τὰ κρέα σήπεται μᾶλλον ὑπὸ τὴν σελήνην ἢ τὸν ἥλιον. Most recently, see Casanova (2005). 2 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658B ~ Archilochus, fr. 107 West. 3 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658B ~ Homer, Il. 23,190–191. 4 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658B ~ Ion, fr. 57 Nauck = Kannicht. Cf. also De facie 16,929A (below, note 12).

100

ALDO SETAIOLI

three more (from Timotheus5, Alcman6, and Aristotle7) in Plutarch’s speech, in which two Homeric epithets of copper – or rather bronze: εὐήνωρ and νῶροψ8 – are also referred to. Most of the ideas expounded in this debate were current in antiquity, and parallels are too numerous to be listed and discussed here. Almost all can be found in Teodorsson’s commentary on the Table Talks9. Here it is more interesting to point out the parallels that can be found in Plutarch himself. As was to be expected, an important one appears in the dialogue On the Face Appearing in the Circle of the Moon, which, from now on, we will refer to as De facie. There, the moon’s humidifying and fertilizing powers, as well as its tainting action, are succinctly touched upon10. In this passage11 we find the same quotation from Alcman that appears in our Table Talk. In the same dialogue the same quotation of Ion may be found too12. The moon’s humidifying and fertilizing influence is also mentioned in the De Iside et Osiride13, but with no common quotation with our text. Alcman’s fragment occurs for the third time in the Quaestiones naturales14,

5 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659A ~ Timotheus, fr. 12 Diehl. Cf. also Quaest. Rom. 77,282CD (below, note 15). 6 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659B ~ Alcman, fr. 43 Diehl. Cf. also De facie 25,940A (below, note 11); Quaest. nat. 24,918A (below, note 14). 7 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659CD; the closest parallel is Ps.-Aristotle, Pr. 1,35,863a25–31. We shall come back to this quotation. 8 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659C. Εὐήνωρ is the epithet of bronze at Homer, Od. 13,19 (at Od. 4,622 of wine); νῶροψ at Homer, Il. 2,578; 11,16; 13,406; 14,383; 16,130; Od. 24,467; 24,500. 9 Teodorsson (1989) 380–393; see also Fuhrmann (1972) 140–145; 203–205. Two of the closest parallels to our Plutarchan text may be found in Ps.-Alexander of Aphrodisias, Pr. 1,66; Pliny, NH 2,223. The ancient beliefs concerning the moon and its influence on earthly life are treated by Préaux (1973); cf. also, for example, Boll – Bezold – Gundel (1977) 69. 10 De facie 25,939F–940B. 11 De facie 25,940A. 12 De facie 16,929A (the quotation is slightly shortened). Here the reference to the moon’s soft and subdued heat is in place, as it is in our Table Talk, where the quotation appears in Moschion’s speech attributing the meat’s decay to the soft heat coming from the moon. The fragment, in fact, says (of moonbeams): μέλας γὰρ αὐταῖς οὐ πεπαίνεται βότρυς (μέλας οὐ πεπαίνεται βότρυς at De facie 16,929A). 13 De Is. et Os. 41,357DE. 14 Quaest. nat. 24,918A. Here, however, the naturalistic interpretation serves a different purpose than in the Table Talks, in that it is brought in connection with the moon’s subdued heat, which plays a role in Moschion’s explanation, but not in Plutarch’s, in which the quote appears in our Table Talk to support the theory of the moon’s humidifying power.

THE MOON AS AGENT OF DECAY

101

while Timotheus’ lines are also quoted in the Quaestiones Romanae15. The most interesting problems, however, are posed by the relationship of our Plutarchan text with its close imitation found at the very end of the preserved part of Macrobius’ Saturnalia. 2. It is well known that a large part of the seventh book of Macrobius’ work – the last that has come down to us – is made up of debates on various problems which are directly borrowed from Plutarch’s Table Talks16. As this work’s manuscript tradition is essentially based on a single witness, the Vindobonensis Gr. 148 (T), the comparison of the latter’s text with Macrobius17 acquires a special significance – particularly as far as our very Table Talk is concerned, which Macrobius has followed more closely than any other in his Latin rendering. He never explicitly acknowledges his debt to Plutarch, though the careful reader can discover a covert avowal when Macrobius, in the midst of his borrowings, mentions him as the author of quaestiones convivales – not alone, but between Aristotle and Apuleius18. Before we tackle the problems posed by Macrobius’ rendering of our text, a short hint at the general relationship between the Greek and the Latin writer is in order. The authors of two old Breslau dissertations, Linke19 and Wissowa20, believed that Macrobius had at his disposal a fuller text of the Table Talks than has come down to us, inasmuch as, now and then, remarks are found in Macrobius that are missing in Plutarch. Hubert, however, has convincingly argued21 that most of Macrobius’

15 Quaest. Rom. 77,282CD. The epithets εὐήνωρ and νῶροψ are also referred to at Quaest. conv. 6,7,692F. 16 In detail these correspondences may be established: Macrobius, Sat. 7,1,2–24 ~ Plutarch, Quaest. conv. 1,1,612F–614E; 7,2,1–5 ~ 2,1,629F–631C; 7,3,2–7 and 11–23 ~ 2,1,631C–634F; 7,4,3–12 ~ 4,1,661A–662A; 7,5,7–32 ~ 4,1,662D–663F; 7,6,2–13 ~ 3,5,652A–653B; 7,6,15–21 ~ 3,3,650AF; 7,7,1–12 ~ 3,4,650F–651F; 7,7,14–20 ~ 3,7,655E– 656B; 7,12,13–16 ~ 7,3,701D–702C; 7,12,14–20 ~ 3,7,655E–656B; 7,12,18–19 ~ 6,3,689A– 690B; 7,13,1–5 ~ 6,1,686E–687B; 7,13,18–27 ~ 1,9,626F–627F; 7,15,2–13 and 16–24 ~ 7,1,697F–700B; 7,16,1–14 ~ 2,3,635E–638A; 7,16,15–34 ~ 3,10,657F–659D. 17 Macrobius is the most important witness of the indirect tradition. For others see Hubert (1938). 18 Macrobius, Sat. 7,3,23–24: quaestiones convivales (…) quod genus veteres ita ludicrum non putarunt, ut et Aristoteles de ipsis aliqua conscripserit et Plutarchus et vester Apuleius. 19 Linke (1880). 20 Wissowa (1880). Shortly before, Volkmann (1872) had already suggested the same. 21 Hubert (1938). Hubert has been generally followed by subsequent scholars. Cf. e.g. Fuhrmann (1972) xxx–xxxi.

102

ALDO SETAIOLI

additions are either rhetorical expansions or are due to misunderstandings, though at times he has inserted elements stemming from different sources, and that in no case a Plutarchan text fuller than the one we can read is to be supposed. Hubert’s conclusion is that Macrobius was reading a text that already contained some of the corruptions found in our manuscript (T), but was in several cases sounder than that. Let’s now check Hubert’s results on the basis of a comparison between the last Table Talk of book III and the last paragraphs of the Saturnalia that came down to us. In Macrobius both problems (why meat easily rots in the moonlight, and why copper nails stop decay) are posed by Euangelus in direct speech22, and both are related to his personal experience, whereas in Plutarch the first is the only one referred to personal experience, but it is posed by Euthydemus in reported speech, while the second is raised by Satyrus in direct speech. The first explanation, given by Moschion, which is in reported speech in Plutarch, is placed by Macrobius in the mouth of Disarius in direct speech23. The second explanation is introduced with a plain caption in Plutarch (“after these remarks [by Moschion], I said” etc.)24, but in Macrobius it is solicited by Euangelus through a direct appeal to Eustathius25, who then proceeds to unfold the argumentation developed by Plutarch as a speaker in the Table Talks26. It is quite clear, then, that Macrobius has aimed to enliven the subject from a literary point of view, by enhancing the dialogic element. We are not surprised to find additions here and there27, but no less conspicuous are several omissions of details found in our Plutarchan text28. As we shall see, several of Macrobius’ additions either aim to make

22

Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,15–16. Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,17–18. 24 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658C: λεχθέντων δὲ τούτων, ἐγώ (…) ἔφην κτλ. 25 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,19. 26 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,20–34. 27 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,17: nullius enim rei fit aliquando putredo, nisi calor umorque convenerint [cf. Hubert (1938) 311]; 7,16,21: quae umectet corpora et velut occulto rore madefaciat cui admixtus calor ipse lunaris putrefacit carnem cui diutule fuerit infusus; 7,16,23: quia ceteri ad producendam hanc materiam inhabiles habentur; 7,16,25: ne (…) amplius lunare lumen umectet; 7,16,25: accepto calore; 7,16,27: Ἄρτεμις dicitur quasi ἀερότεμις, hoc est aerem secans; 7,16,31: et tunc enim parte qua susrsum suspicit plena est; 7,16.32: quam magis usus quam ratio deprehendit. 28 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,18 (the three quotations in Moschion’s speech, 658BC, are omitted); 7,16,20 (the words τοὐναντίον (…) σάρκας are omitted); 7,16,24 (658E: οἱ χαρίεντες (…) ἐμποιοῦσιν); 7,16,30 (659AB: οἱ δ’ ἀκμῇ (…) καὶ ῥέουσι: Macrobius replaces this passage on leavening through the words quae umecta desideras luna crescente conficies; thus the Stoicizing allusion to the συνεκτικὸν πνεῦμα is also omitted); 7,16,34 (the final words of 23

THE MOON AS AGENT OF DECAY

103

a problematic passage in Plutarch understandable or can be traced back to his own culture – in two cases with unmistakably Neoplatonic overtones. Obviously, this seriously impairs the coherence of Plutarch’s argument. A significant tool to assess Macrobius’ way of adapting Plutarch may be provided by observing how he behaves as far as the latter’s Greek quotations – and Greek technical terms – are concerned. When Plutarch speaks of the peculiarity (ἰδιότης) of the humidifying flux from the moon29, Macrobius30 does give a Latin equivalent, and then, following a well-established tradition, adds the Greek word, but with an unexpected slight change: proprietas, quam Graeci ἰδίωμα vocant31. As Hubert remarked32, the slight change is part of Macrobius’ effort not to follow his source too slavishly. Another Greek word, στυπτικός (‘astringent’) had gained the status of medical technical term, as a loan-word, in Latin too33 – and accordingly Macrobius translates Plutarch’s στυπτικόν34 with the words vis (…) quam medici (notice: the physicians, not the Greeks) stypticam vocant35. As for the quotations, the first three, in Moschion’s speech, are skipped by Macrobius36. Plutarch’s next quotation, the one from Timotheus, is reproduced by him in Greek37, but with a change in the first line: Plutarch has διὰ κυάνεον πόλον ἄστρων (“through the stars’ gloomy vault”)38; but in Macrobius we read διὰ λαμπρὸν πόλον ἄστρων (“through the stars’ shining vault”) – possibly a change he may be responsible for39. The next poetic quotation in Plutarch (the one from Alcman, which also appears in his Quaestiones naturales and, slightly shortened, in the

the Talk, containing the second explanation of the antiseptic power of copper nails, are omitted; as this is the end of the surviving part of the Saturnalia, we have no way to know whether Macrobius skipped them, or their rendering has been lost). 29 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658C: ἰδιότητα (…) τοῦ φερομένου ῥεύματος ἀπ’ αὐτῆς. 30 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,21. 31 He further elaborates, adding a second Latin term: proprietas, quam Graeci ἰδίωμα vocant, et quaedam natura. 32 Hubert (1938) 311. He remarks that Macrobius could hardly have found ἰδίωμα in lieu of ἰδιότης in the text he was using, since ἰδίωμα never seems to appear in Plutarch’s writings. 33 Cf., for example, Pliny, NH 21,166; 24,120; 32,111. 34 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659C. 35 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,33. We may also point out that Macrobius substitutes the Roman Lucina (7,16,27) for the Greek Λοχεία and Εἰλείθυια (Quaest. conv. 3,10,659A). 36 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,28 ~ Quaest. conv. 3,10,658BC. 37 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,28 ~ Quaest. conv. 3,10,659A. Cf. above, note 5. 38 The same reading also appears in Plutarch’s other quotation of these lines, at Quaest. Rom. 77,282CD: cf. above, note 15. 39 The second line (διά τ’ ὠκυτόκοιο σελάνας) is given with no change by Macrobius.

104

ALDO SETAIOLI

De facie)40 is flatly summarized in Latin by Macrobius, who directly attributes to the poet the naturalistic interpretation that appears in Plutarch’s speech here41 and in the De facie is presented as proposed by Theon, one of the speakers in that dialogue42. Whereas Alcman speaks of Ἔρση, the mythological personification of the dew, as the daughter of Zeus and Selene43, Macrobius directly attributes to him Plutarch’s naturalistic interpretation: “the lyric poet Alcman called the dew the offspring of the air and the moon” (Alcman lyricus dixit rorem aeris et lunae filium)44. The interpretation of Zeus as the air had already been proposed by Cleanthes45, though Plutarch elsewhere makes fun of it46. But a discussion of the allegorical interpretation of the myth and the poets would take us too far. Shortly after, Macrobius adduces the same Homeric epithets of copper (or rather of bronze: the Greek words εὐήνωρ and νῶροψ) and seems to accept the same fanciful association with the verb ὁράω (‘to see’) Plutarch apparently assumes when he says that they confirm copper’s healthful influence on the eyes and eyesight47. Plutarch’s last quotation concerns an alleged statement by Aristotle to the effect that wounds made with a copper (or bronze) weapon are less harmful and heal more easily than those caused by iron, due to the curative power inherent in copper48. The idea is indeed matched in a passage of the Problems attributed to Aristotle49, but there the curative power of bronze is only mentioned after two different explanations of the phenomenon, though some significant terms50 appear both in the Problems and in Plutarch. Sandbach actually thinks that, here and elsewhere, Plutarch may refer to a different work of Aristotle’s, now lost,

40

Cf. above, notes 11 and 14. As we have seen (above, note 14), in the Quaestiones naturales the naturalistic interpretation serves a different purpose. 42 De facie 25,940A. 43 Alcman, fr. 43 Diehl: Διὸς θυγάτηρ Ἔρσα (…) καὶ Σελάνας δίας (δίας Σελάνας Plut.). 44 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,31. 45 Cleanthes, SVF I,535. Cf. Buffière (1956) 63. 46 De aud. poet. 11,31D. 47 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,34 ~ Quaest. conv. 3,10,659C. 48 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659CD: Ἀριστοτέλης δὲ καὶ τὰ τραύματά φησιν τὰ ἀπὸ τῶν χαλκῶν ἐπιδορατίδων καὶ μαχαιρῶν ἧττον εἶναι δυσαλγῆ καὶ ῥᾴον’ ἰᾶσθαι τῶν ἀπὸ τοῦ σιδήρου διὰ τὸ φαρμακῶδες ἔχειν τι τὸν χαλκὸν ἐν ἑαυτῷ καὶ τοῦτο ταῖς πληγαῖς εὐθὺς ἐναπολείπειν. 49 Ps.-Aristotle, Pr. 1,35,863a25–31: Διὰ τί, ἐὰν χαλκῷ τις τμηθῇ, ῥᾷον ὑγιάζεται ἢ τῷ σιδήρῳ; πότερον ὅτι λειότερον, ὥσθ’ ἧττον σπαράττει καὶ ποιεῖ πληγήν; ἢ εἴπερ ἀκμὴν μᾶλλον ὁ σίδηρος λαμβάνει, ῥᾴων καὶ ἀπαθέστερα ἡ διαίρεσις; ἀλλὰ μὴν φαρμακῶδες ὁ χαλκός, ἡ δὲ ἀρχὴ ἰσχυρόν. τὸ οὖν εὐθὺς ἅμα τῇ τομῇ θᾶττον τὸ φάρμακον ποιεῖ τὴν σύμφυσιν. 50 Such as φαρμακῶδες and εὐθύς. 41

THE MOON AS AGENT OF DECAY

105

and that the Problems we have are a compilation later put together in the Peripatetic school51. Be that as it may, it is highly improbable that Macrobius cared to check Plutarch’s quotation on the Greek original. He is obviously elaborating on Plutarch’s version of the quote, but he has adapted it in an interesting way. Whereas Plutarch simply reports Aristotle’s opinion with no claim to reproduce his exact words, Macrobius first reports the allegedly less harmful effect of copper (or rather, bronze), but then goes on to present his Latin rendering of the cause of the phenomenon as Aristotle’s own words: ‘quia inest’, inquit, etc.52. Obviously, this is part of Macrobius’ effort to enliven Plutarch’s text we have already pointed out. As we can see, Macrobius’ approach to the quotations he found in Plutarch is extremely varied and displays a whole gamut of solutions, ranging from sheer suppression, through various types of change, to rhetorical elaboration. This holds true for the whole of Plutarch’s text, as a detailed analysis would no doubt make clear. As we have already pointed out, there are also some additions53, some of which are mere rhetorical fillers54, whereas others stem from Macrobius’ own culture and reading of other authors. So, for example, he makes Disarius open his speech, which closely follows Moschion’s in Plutarch, with a statement missing there: “nothing rots except when heat and moisture combine” (nullius enim rei fit putredo nisi calor umorque convenerint)55. This was common knowledge56, and the idea is expressed elsewhere by Macrobius himself57, by referring to a different author – the Stoic Antipater58 – but with a formulation very close to our passage: putredinis, quae non nisi ex calore et umore generatur, as pointed out by Hubert59. Unlikely as it is, one might theoretically suppose that Macrobius found this statement in a Plutarchan text fuller than ours; but this may be with certainty ruled out as far as two further additions are concerned. 51

Sandbach (1982) 223–225. Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,34: Aristoteles vero testis est vulnera quae ex aereo mucrone fiunt minus esse noxia quam ex ferro faciliusque curari; ‘quia inest’ inquit ‘aeri vis quaedam remedialis et siccifica, quam demittit in vulnere’. 53 Cf. above, note 27. 54 Such as Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,23: quia ceteri ad producendam hanc materiam inhabiles habentur; 7,16,34: quam magis usus quam ratio deprehendit. 55 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,17. 56 Cf. the texts quoted by Teodorsson (1989) 381, on Quaest. conv. 3,10,658A: ῥύσιν σαρκὸς εἰς ὑγρὸν κτλ. 57 Macrobius, Sat. 1,17,57. 58 Cf. Antipater, SVF III,46. 59 Hubert (1938) 311. 52

106

ALDO SETAIOLI

One is the etymology of the name of the Greek goddess identified with the moon, Artemis, as ἀερότεμις, or ‘cleaving the air’60, since the moon, as the lowest celestial body, was supposed to be conterminous with the air enveloping the earth. Macrobius presents the same etymology elsewhere in the Saturnalia61, and in all probability it goes back to Porphyry, the Neoplatonic philosopher to whom Macrobius is heavily indebted, as Mastandrea has convincingly pointed out62. Another addition Macrobius could not possibly have drawn from a fuller text of the Table Talks is his statement that the moon is full even at the beginning of the month, when it appears dark to us63. Here Macrobius mixes the idea of the moon receiving its light from the sun (the light we see when the moon appears full to us) with that of the upper part of the moon turned away from us and towards the light coming from the aether above. This idea is akin to the conception sketched in the final myth of Plutarch’s De facie, but also to later, Neoplatonic notions. Any way, it is totally out of place in this context and disturbs the consistency of Plutarch’s argument here. 3. Finally, Macrobius’ rendering may be used as a tool to establish a better text in passages that are corrupt or questionable in Plutarch. As we shall now see, some valuable clues may be obtained, though in our case no real certainty can be reached. Let’s start with the last relevant passage. Speaking of the astringent power of copper, Macrobius says64: “there is a sharp power in copper that physicians call astringent” (est enim in aere vis acrior quam medici stypticam vocant). Our manuscript (T) only has φαίνεται μὲν ἔχων καὶ στυπτικὸν ἐν ἑαυτῷ65. One could of course translate “copper seems to have also some astringent power in itself”, but after μέν this καί may no doubt be perceived as somewhat hanging in the air, so that Hubert inserted the words τι πικρόν before it (φαίνεται ἔχων καὶ στυπτικὸν ἐν ἑαυτῷ). Macrobius’ vis acrior seems indeed to suggest that some other adjective may have stood before the technical term στυπτικόν; Macrobius’ expression (vis acrior) might perhaps suggest ὀξύ τι.

60

Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,27: Diana, quae luna est, Ἄρτεμις dicitur quasi ἀερότεμις, hoc est aerem secans. This etymology is missing in Quaest. conv. 3,10,658F–659A. 61 Macrobius, Sat. 1,15,20: Graeci lunam Ἄρτεμιν nuncuparunt, id est ἀερότομιν, quod aera secat. The form ἀερότομις seem to appear nowhere else. 62 Mastandrea (1979) 66; 71. 63 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,31: cum luna plena est vel cum nascitur – et tunc enim a parte qua sursum suspicit plena est. The latter words are missing at Quaest. conv. 3,10,659B. 64 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,33. 65 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659C.

THE MOON AS AGENT OF DECAY

107

At paragraph 20 Macrobius confirms Wyttenbach’s corrections of the text given by the Vindobonensis66: τῷ μᾶλλον καὶ ἧττον (κατὰ τό T) τῆς θερμασίας κρίνειν (καιρόν T) τὸ σύμπαν οὐ δεῖ (“the whole phenomenon should not be assessed on the basis of a greater or lesser amount of heat”), when he writes67: illud pressius intuendum est, utrum mensura caloris sit causa putredinis, ut ex maiore calore non fieri et ex minore et temperato provenire dicatur (“we should consider more closely whether the amount of heat is indeed the cause of decay, so that it could be said that it is not produced by greater heat, but by a lesser and moderate one”). Here pressius intuendum est corresponds to κρίνειν and ex maiore (…) ex minore to τῷ μᾶλλον καὶ ἧττον. This very expression returns immediately after in Plutarch68, and appears also elsewhere in the Table Talks69. Rather, it may be argued that Macrobius’ illud (…) intuendum est can perhaps be regarded as a support to Madvig’s correction of τὸ σύμπαν to τὸ συμβάν, accepted by several editors, including Hubert. In spite of Teodorsson’s opposite opinion70, here, at the beginning of his speech, Plutarch probably refers to the rotting of the boar mentioned before by Euthydemus, and in any case to the specific phenomenon of putrefaction, as indicated by Macrobius’ proleptic illud and by his subsequent specification (ut ex maiore calore non fieri et ex minore et temperato provenire dicatur). In one case Macrobius has been mistakenly used by Teodorsson71 to propose a correction to Plutarch’s text. In his speech Moschion maintains that the moon’s moderate heat has an influence on the liquid element in all objects and in dead bodies in particular: κινεῖν τὰ ὑγρὰ καὶ † κωλύειν, where κωλύειν is corrupt and has been corrected to λύειν in the manuscript. Pohlenz proposed ἐκκαλεῖν72, accepted by Fuhrmann73. Teodorsson suggests διαχεῖν74 on the basis of Macrobius, who writes75: ergo de corporibus enectis sol ut maioris caloris haurit umorem, lunare lumen, in quo non est manifestus calor sed occultus tepor, magis diffundit umecta (“so the sun, endowed with a greater heat, extracts the moisture from dead bodies, whereas the moon, which has no clearly perceived heat, but rather an imperceptible warmth, is more apt to spread the moist element”). According to Teodorsson, Macrobius’ last words (diffundit umecta) support his 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75

Quaest. conv. 3,10,658C. Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,20. Quaest. conv. 3,19,658D. Quaest. conv. 3,5,652C; 8,9,732C. Teodorsson (1989) 384. Teodorsson (1989) 381–382. With a reference to Pliny, NH 2,223: solvere umorem et trahere. For further conjectures see Teodorsson (1989) 382. With a reference to De facie 25,940A (διαχεόμενον) and 940B (διαχεῖν). Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,18.

108

ALDO SETAIOLI

correction διαχεῖν in Plutarch’s text. In reality, however, these words are part of the rendering of a different sentence that follows shortly after in Plutarch76: diffundit umecta corresponds to the ἀνυγραίνειν which appears there. Now, it cannot be categorically excluded that in Macrobius these words may have been influenced by a preceding διαχεῖν, if this verb really appeared shortly before in the text, but this is no more than a hypothesis based on another hypothesis. The words in which the corrupt κωλύειν appears (κινεῖν τὰ ὑγρὰ καὶ † κωλύειν) have been translated in the previous sentence by Macrobius with nutrit umores77. This clearly translates κινεῖν τὰ ὑγρά; there is no second verb in Macrobius – which suggests that it was probably already corrupt in the manuscript he used. In my opinion the right reading may have been hit upon by the corrector of T, who struck the two first letters of the verb, changing κωλύειν to λύειν: in a closely related passage Pliny does indeed write solvere umorem78. The last passage is a very controversial one. Plutarch is speaking of nurses who carefully avoid exposing the babies entrusted to them to the moon79. What follows, however, raises some doubt: “the reason is that, being filled with moisture, like freshly cut wood, they (would) become crippled and deformed”80. Now, further down Plutarch will come to speak of the moon’s effect on wood, which, however, does not become contracted or distorted, but soft and quick to decay81. And, as Fuhrmann pointed out82, the effect here depicted resembles very closely that of the heat of fire on wood, as described with the same verbs in another Table Talk from the same book III83. Accordingly, he writes τὸν ἥλιον (“to the sun”, instead of “to the moon”) in Plutarch’s text. This correction was rejected by Flacelière84 and Teodorsson85.

76

Quaest. conv. 3,10,658B: τὴν γὰρ σελήνην ἠρέμα χλιαίνουσαν ἀνυγραίνειν τὰ σώματα, τὸν δ’ ἥλιον ἀναρπάζειν μᾶλλον ἐκ τῶν σωμάτων τὸ νοτερὸν διὰ τὴν πύρωσιν. 77 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,18. 78 Pliny, NH 2,223. Cf. above, note 72. 79 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658E: διὸ τὰ μὲν νήπια παντάπασιν αἱ τίτθαι δεικνύναι τὴν σελήνην φυλάττονται. The πρός was added in the Basel edition. Turnebus proposed τῇ σελήνῃ, accepted by Teodorsson (1989) 386. 80 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658E: πλήρη γὰρ ὑγρότητος ὄντα, καθάπερ τὰ χλωρὰ τῶν ξύλων, σπᾶται καὶ διαστρέφεται. 81 Quaest. conv. 3,10,659A: ἁπαλὰ καὶ μυδῶντα ταχέως δι’ ὑγρότητα. Cf. also de facie 25,939F: μαλακότητες ξύλων. 82 Fuhrmann (1972) 143; 204 n. 2. 83 Quaest. conv. 3,2,648BC: τὸ δὲ κλῆμα λέγουσιν αὐτοῦ σπώμενον ὥσπερ τἀν πυρὶ ξύλα συνδιαστρέφεσθαι; 649B: ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰ ξύλα διαστρέφεται τοῦ πυρὸς τὸ ὑγρὸν ἕλκοντος ἐξ αὐτῶν βίᾳ κυρτότητας ἴσχοντα καὶ παραβάσεις. 84 Flacelière (1973) 255. 85 Teodorsson (1989) 387.

THE MOON AS AGENT OF DECAY

109

Macrobius surely read a text akin to our manuscript (T), with a reference to the moon, not to the sun: “Therefore also nurses cover their suckling babies when they walk under the moon, lest moonlight should increase the moisture they are naturally filled with because of their tender age, and, just like wood still green and humid is curved by heat, so their limbs should not be distorted by an increase in moisture”86. It should be noticed right away that Macrobius makes two additions to Plutarch’s text: the first is ne (…) amplius lunare lumen umectet (“lest moonlight should increase their natural moisture”), which aims to reinforce the previous statement that the effect described is indeed caused by the moon, as later once more confirmed by the words umoris adiectio, also missing in Plutarch; the second is the mention of heat (accepto calore), which is an effort to explain the distortion of wood. This, as even Teodorsson is forced to admit87, would fit the rapid desiccation caused by fire or by the sun, rather than the moistening and softening influence of the moon. Therefore, the resulting parallel in Macrobius is intrinsically contradictory: the effect of heat on wood can hardly be equated with the moistening influence of the moon on babies. Macrobius must have sensed that something did not square in Plutarch’s text. He tried to obviate the difficulty by resorting to the notion of heat to explain the distortion of wood mentioned by Plutarch. In Macrobius’ context, however, if the two phenomena can be equated at all, the reference must perforce be to the soft, moderate heat of the moon, which can hardly account for the effect on wood. As a matter of fact, immediately before Macrobius opposes the heat from the sun, that dries up, to that from the moon, which moistens88, where Plutarch only speaks of ‘flows’ (ῥεύματα) proceeding from the two celestial bodies89. Incidentally, we shall remind that these are not the only additions in Eustathius’ speech referring to the heat from the moon90. Obviously, these references do not fit Plutarch’s speech in the Table Talks, after which the speech of Eustathius in Macrobius is modeled. They would rather belong in the previous speech, uttered by 86 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,25: hinc et nutrices pueros fellantes operimentis obtegunt cum sub luna praetereunt, ne plenos per aetatem naturalis umoris amplius lunare lumen umectet, et sicut ligna adhuc virore umida accepto calore curvantur, ita et illorum membra contorqueat umoris adiectio. 87 Teodorsson (1989) 387. 88 Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,24: calor solis arefacit, lunaris umectat. 89 Quaest. conv. 3,10,658E: τοῦ μὲν ξηραντικά, τῆς δὲ χαλαστικὰ (…) ἀφιείσης ῥεύματα. Incidentally, this opposition nullifies Teodorsson’s objection that here Plutarch is only speaking of the moon. The example of the babies (marked by μέν) could very well refer to the sun, the first celestial body previously mentioned; that of the sleepers under the moon (marked by δέ) obviously to the moon. 90 Cf. also Macrobius, Sat. 7,16,21: calor ipse lunaris. Cf. above, note 27.

110

ALDO SETAIOLI

Moschion in Plutarch and by Disarius in Macrobius, which attributed the cause of decay to the softer heat from the moon, as compared to the sun’s. The speech of Plutarch, by contrast, regards decay as resulting from the laxative and liquefying influence of the moon – with no overt reference to lunar heat, however soft or subdued. This, then, is a further element by which the inner coherence of Eustathius’ speech is seriously impaired. As already hinted, Macrobius must have perceived that something did not square in this passage. To obviate the difficulty he went as far as repeatedly laying stress on the heat supposedly coming from the moon – a theory which ran counter to his own convictions, as expressed in his commentary on the Dream of Scipio, where he maintains that no heat comes from the moon91; but he could not avoid being caught in a web of contradictions. Obviously, in Plutarch’s passage a reference to the sun would make more sense than one to the moon. However, that the moon could have evil influences is well documented in the Greek Magical Papyri92. So, it may well be that Plutarch did refer to the moon, and that Macrobius’ effort to justify this reference, that he may have felt not perfectly in keeping with the context, far from attaining the goal, produced further inconsistencies. For this reason, I will leave it for others to decide whether Fuhrmann’s correction should be inserted in the text or left in the apparatus. 4. A few concluding remarks are in order. The particular problem discussed in this talk was related to a much more general one: the influence of celestial bodies – and the moon’s in particular – on earthly phenomena. It had obviously caught Plutarch’s interest, as shown by several related passages in a number of other works. Though it is a scientific problem, Plutarch also appeals to the testimony of literature, including poetry, as he usually does in all his works. Macrobius has followed Plutarch’s text fairly closely from the scientific point of view, but has aimed to enliven its literary presentation by enhancing the dialogic element – a procedure which reverses the attitude apparent in other adaptations he has made of Plutarch’s Table Talks: for example the one found in the immediately previous paragraphs (Sat. 7,16,1–14, discussing the priority of the egg or the chicken: cf. Quaest. conv. 2,3). He has suppressed some of Plutarch’s quotations (though not all of them as in Sat. 7,16,1–14) and has made a few additions stemming from his own culture.

91 Macrobius, Somn. Scip. 1,19,12: nullum (…) sensum caloris; 13: solam refundit claritudinem, non calorem. 92 Cf., for example, PGM IV,2241–2358; 2622–2707; 2785–2890; VII,862–918.

THE MOON AS AGENT OF DECAY

111

Macrobius’ rendering is a helpful tool for the establishment of a better Greek text in several passages, though at times he seems to adjust Plutarch’s arguments to fit his own interpretations. Nevertheless, his adaptations constitute an extremely interesting document allowing us to catch a glimpse of the reception and influence of Plutarch’s Table Talks in late antiquity. Aldo Setaioli Università degli Studi di Perugia Bibliography Boll, F. – Bezold, C. – Gundel, W. (1977), Storia dell’astrologia, Roma – Bari. Buffière, F. (1956), Les mythes d’ Homère et la pensée grecque, Paris. Casanova, A. (2005), “Plutarco, Quaest. conv. III, 659A: gli influssi della luna”, in Pérez Jiménez, A. – Titchener, F. (eds.), Valori letterari delle opere di Plutarco. Studi offerti al Professore Italo Gallo dall’International Plutarch Society, Malaga – Utah, 67–74. Flacelière, R. (1973), Review of Fuhrmann (1972), AC 42, 253–266. Fuhrmann, F. (1972), Plutarque. Œuvres morales, tome IX, 1 (Propos de table), Paris (CUF). Hubert, K. (1938), “Zur indirekten Überlieferung der Tischgespräche Plutarchs”, Hermes 73, 307–328. Linke, H. (1880), Quaestiones de Macrobii Saturnalium fontibus, Diss. Breslau. Mastandrea, P. (1979) Un neoplatonico latino. Cornelio Labeone (Testimonianze e frammenti), Leiden. Préaux, C. (1973), La lune dans la pensée grecque, Bruxelles. Sandbach, F.H. (1982), “Plutarch and Aristotle”, ICS 7, 207–232. Teodorsson, S.-T. (1989) A Commentary on Plutarch’s Table Talks, vol. 1, Göteborg. Volkmann, R. (1872), Observationes miscellae, Progr. Jauer, 2–5. Wissowa, G. (1880), De Macrobii Saturnalium fontibus capita III, Diss. Breslau.

Some Notes on Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales FABIO TANGA Plutarch wrote Quaestiones naturales between the first and the second decade of the second century1, some time before Quaestiones convivales were composed. After the final redaction of the work2, Plutarch himself published this writing3, characterized both by well-refined style and “monotony of the vocabulary”4. As notes based on the Ps.-Aristotelian Problemata, Quaestiones naturales show the typical brevis and fragmentary style of the annotations5, and, at the beginning, maybe only the Plutarchean circle might have handled them6. According to K. Ziegler, “Keinesfalls besteht ein Grund, die Schrift – in der auch die Hiate, wenn schon nicht mit besonderer Sorgfalt, gemieden sind – dem P. abzusprechen”7, but then C. Hubert put an end to the discussion on authenticity8 of Quaestiones naturales asserting “genuinae sint dubitare non licet”9. F.H. Sandbach, and later L. Senzasono, con-

1

Senzasono (2006) 47–48. Senzasono (2006) 46. 3 “Die Möglichkeit der Herausgabe durch P. selbst muß man jedenfalls im Hinblick auf die ganz gleich gearteten Ἄιτια Ῥωμαϊκά und Ἑλληνικά zugestehen, für die die Selbstzitate (s.u.) die Veröffentlichung durch P. selbst sicher stellen”; Ziegler (1951) 857. 4 See Sandbach (1965) 135. 5 Senzasono (2006) 45. M. Meeusen thinks that Quaestiones naturales are “not an unpublished Plutarchean ὑπόμνημα (See Plu., De tranq. an. 464F) for the redaction of Quaestiones convivales but an autonomous work, probably composed on the basis of more ‘fundamental’ notes”; see Meeusen (2012b) 109, n. 38. See also Id. (2012a) 253–257. 6 The remaining audience probably experienced only in a second moment the usefulness of Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales. 7 Ziegler (1951) 857. 8 The debate concerning the authenticity of the essay started in the 19th century; see Döhner (1862) 14; Volkmann (1869) I, 188; Diels (1905) 315, 1. 9 Hubert (2001) III. 2

114

FABIO TANGA

sidered not so important that issue concerning the authenticity of the essay. Furthermore, Senzasono recognized the typical Plutarchean stylistic feature of the synonymic accumulation supported by copulative conjunction, identifying it as an essential trait of a laconic and referential writing style10. The essay outlines the mostly qualitative nature of phenomenic relations, within a naturalistic topic belonging to an undeniable Peripatetic tradition that contains biological or physio-pathological questions11, toward which Plutarch holds a hypothetical and problematic approach. Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales use the language of Aristotelian and Stoic thinkers, that called ‘causes’ some connections between phenomena, which actually are just simple links12. Therefore, the essay seems to interpret the idea of ‘cause’ in a very broad sense, from a conceptual point of view13, or, otherwise, the treatise should be contextualized within a specific terminological tradition, and according to the Plutarchean view of history14. Manuscripts have transmitted this essay as αἰτίαι φυσικαί15, maybe evoking the incipit of quaestiones 20 and 2916. The word αἰτία17 occurs nine times in Quaestiones naturales: three times placed in initial interrogative position18, and in other cases included in the development of the quaestio19. In G.N. Bernardakis’ edition of Plutarch’s Moralia20 this treatise appeared as αἴτια φυσικά21 (Aetia physica, in Latin), in analogy with

10

See Senzasono (2006) 41; 45. See Senzasono (2006) 41. 12 See Sambursky (1965) 283–285; Senzasono (2006) 40–41. 13 See Senzasono (2006) 34. 14 See Desideri (1992) 73–89; Senzasono (2006) 34–35. 15 The same title occurs in the Lamprias catalogue (nr. 218); see Treu (1873) 16; Irigoin (1987) CCCXVIII. 16 See also Sandbach (1965) 133–134. 17 See LSJ, s.v. cause. See also Herodotus, prooem.; DK 68 Democritus B83; Plato, Ti. 68e; Phd. 97a; R. 464b; Aristotle, Ph. 194b6; Metaph. 983a26; Dionysius of Halicarnassus, 8,29. The first of W. Xylander’s Annotationes In Quaestionibus naturalibus was: “αἰτίαι. Causae enim redduntur eorum, de quibus est quaestio”; Xylander (1599) 44. 18 See Quaest. nat. 20,916F; 29,919A. 19 See Quaest. nat. 1,911C; 19,916CF; 24,917F; 27,918F. 20 Bernardakis (1893) 373–401. 21 Also K. Ziegler chose this title, translating it “Aetia oder Quaestiones physicae”; see Ziegler (1951) 857. Then, the title of this essay has been translated into Quaestiones naturales by Xylander, Cruserius, Wyttenbach, Tauchnitz and Dübner; Aetia physica by 11

SOME NOTES ON PLUTARCH’S QUAESTIONES NATURALES

115

the main work of Callimachus and with the Alexandrian erudition and etiological spirit, and probably looking at Rom. 15,7 where Plutarch says: περὶ ὦν ἐπὶ πλέον ἐν τοῖς Αἰτίοις εἰρήκαμεν. However, in the Corpus Plutarcheum this essay is never quoted directly. Furthermore, the word αἴτιον in the treatise is used only in quaestio 29 (919B), and, considering that the Lamprias Catalogue contains titles as αἰτίαι τῶν Ἀράτου Διοσημείων (119), αἰτίαι ῥωμαικαί (138), αἰτίαι βαρβαρικαί (139), αἰτίαι τῶν περιφερομένων Στωικῶν (149), αἰτίαι καὶ τόποι (160), αἰτίαι ἀλλαγῶν (161), αἰτίαι ἑλλήνων (166) and αἰτίαι γυναικῶν (167), agreeing with Sandbach’s “Introduction” to the edition of Quaestiones naturales for The Loeb Classical Library, the title αἰτίαι φυσικαί really seems to have nothing “intrinsically objectionable”22. So, corroborated by the use of the Greek-speaking readers of Plutarch’s work, this title seems to be better than a conjecture. Plutarch uses the disjunctive interrogative sentence, composed of two or more elements, to answer some questions that have been asked with no precise order, and constantly introduced by διὰ τί. Then, with the purpose of “scrutare e snidare i segreti della benevola natura, concepita come un oracolo da interrogare”23, towards the ‘physical’ themes the philosopher of Chaeronea shows a philosophical approach that is not far from the attitude of Seneca’s Naturales Quaestiones24. The manuscript tradition of Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales contains thirty-one quaestiones, and F.H. Sandbach’s edition offers also a table with the seventeen Plutarchean natural questions used as sources and re-elaborated by M. Psellus for the redaction of De omnifaria doctrina25, paragraphs 92–10726.

Hubert and Morales Ortiz; De causis naturalibus by Longolius; Les Causes naturelles by Amyot; Cagioni naturali by Adriani; Questioni naturali by Gandino; Questions naturelles by Ricard; Causes naturelles by Bétolaud; Cuestiones sobre la naturaleza by Ramón Palerm; Causes of natural phenomena by Sandbach and Cause dei fenomeni naturali by Senzasono. See Longolius (1542) 86–126; Xylander (1570) 643–649; Amyot (1572) 534–539; Cruserius (1573) 468–476; Gandino (1625) 208–215; Wyttenbach (1797) 683–719; Adriani (1829) 295–315; Ricard (1844) 363–386; Tauchnitz (1866) 315–337; Bétolaud (1870) 101–129; Dübner (1877) 1114–1126; Hubert (1955) 1–30; Sandbach (1965) 148–229; Morales Ortiz (1999) 143–151; Ramón Palerm (2002) 85–117; Senzasono (2006) 60–137. 22 See Sandbach (1965) 133. 23 Battegazzore (1992) 49. 24 See Parroni (2002) XIII–XL. 25 About Psellus and Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales see also Harrison (2000) 237–250 and Meeusen (2012b) 105–110. 26 In manuscripts Hieros. Gr. 108 and Laur. VII 35, these paragraphs have been

116

FABIO TANGA

However, F.H. Sandbach included also De omnifaria doctrina 134 and 152 Migne27 among Psellus’ paragraphs based on Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales, because Westerink28 had previously recognized these two chapters as excerpta of the lost part29 of Plutarchean Quaestiones naturales later incorporated by the Byzantine scholar in the structure of De omnifaria doctrina30. Analyzing De omnifaria doctrina 130 Migne31, a section that is aimed at explaining the solar origin of the saline content in the sea water and at showing the good effects of salt for the maritime navigation, we see that this section seems to evoke, indirectly and in different ways, not only part of Plutarch’s Placita philosophorum 16, but also Quaestiones naturales 7–9. This part of the essay is about the sea water and the physical prerogatives developed through the climate change, when heat and other elements are present, and in comparison with the rivers’ features.

explicitly entitled αἰτίαι φυσικαί; see Westerink (1948) 3. Moreover, paragraphs 122–130 of De omnifaria doctrina probably result from Plutarch’s Placita philosophorum, and paragraphs 131–137 from Quaestiones convivales; see Sandbach (1965) 143. Concerning this issue, L. Senzasono has been conservative and hasty, asserting that M. Psellus “forse incorporò alcuni estratti dell’opuscolo nel suo De omnifaria doctrina e il fatto che ci sia affinità di materia e di stile con passi di Plutarco comporta probabilità, non certezza d’influenze o derivazioni plutarchee”; Senzasono (2006) 50–51. About the authenticity of these two questions, because of “some important parallel passages between the two problems at issue and Table Talks”, Meeusen claims that “Sandbach was right to include them and to treat them as (more or less) genuine”; Meeusen (2012b) 109. 27 Registered as 170 and 188 in Westerink’s edition, 101 and 106 in the original redaction of the essay; see Migne (1889) 769–770; 779–780. 28 Westerink (1948) 3. 29 Later, the appendix to Sandbach’s edition of αἰτίαι φυσικαί added these paragraphs of De omnifaria doctrina as Quaestio XL and Quaestio XLI of Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales; see Sandbach (1965) 226–229. Sandbach also stated: “there is no evidence incompatible with his having used U while still complete”; Sandbach (1965) 146. 30 Westerink’s choice seems to be undoubtedly due to the position of these two paragraphs in the original redaction of De omnifaria doctrina. The paragraphs 92–107 of De omnifaria doctrina had been connected in different ways to Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales, except paragraphs 101 and 106: Westerink identified these two paragraphs as part of the lost Plutarchean Quaestiones naturales. 31 In the studies of Westerink and Sandbach concerning Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales and Psellus’De omnifaria doctrina there is no mention of De omnifaria doctrina 130, chapter entitled διὰ τί ἀλμυρὸν τὸ τῆς θαλάττης ὖδωρ ἐστιν.

SOME NOTES ON PLUTARCH’S QUAESTIONES NATURALES

117

Above all, Plutarch examined the density32 and the heaviness33 of the marine water, describing the heat and exhalations’ effects34 on the marine waves, the consequences of the marine evaporation on the navigation35 and the salinity of the sea. Then, Plutarch pointed out the effects caused on maritime navigation by the load of vessels that comes into contact with the sea36. Similarly, Psellus pointed out the action of vapor and marine exhalations through the seasons, the causes and the impact of saltiness, underlining the depth of the marine water in comparison with the rivers, and describing the positive effects of the sea water density on boats, also in connection with their weight. If scholars already noted that Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales 7, 8, 9 and Psellus’ De omnifaria doctrina have a strong familiarity with the Corpus Aristotelicum, the supposed connection of influence/ filiation between these two passages has been unexpectedly ignored, probably because, while discussing similar themes, the passage of Psellus does not offer a title that is similar to the supposed Plutarchean model in exam. But analyzing De omnifaria doctrina, we see the sections extracted from Quaestiones naturales with titles that often paraphrase, rephrase, summarize, abridge, enhance, and generally modify the titles of Plutarch’s quaestiones taken as a model, without necessarily recalling them verbatim37. Then, recognizing that the content of De omnifaria doctrina 130 Migne38 comes from a group of Plutarchean quaestiones that discuss a similar topic, maybe this section proposes an alternative title or a compromise between the various and different incipit found in its model, that are, furthermore, completely and literally reproduced only in a very small number of cases. The manuscripts containing Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales are: Urbinas 97 (saec. X/XI), interrupted at 914D, in the middle of the Quaestio 9; Palatinus Heidelbergensis 283 (saec. XI/XII), that gives Quaestiones naturales until 912E, in the middle of the Quaestio 3 and

32

Quaest. nat. 7,914A. Quaest. nat. 7,914A; 8,914B. 34 Quaest. nat. 7,914A; 8,914B; 9,914CD. 35 Quaest. nat. 7,913F–914A. 36 Quaest. nat. 7,914A. 37 For the writing style of Psellus and for structural adaptations of Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales in Psellus’ De omnifaria doctrina see Harrison (2000) 237–250; Meeusen (2012b) 110–113. 38 Migne (1889) 765–768. 33

118

FABIO TANGA

Ambrosianus 859 (a. 1295), from which come ten codices of Planudean tradition, that gives a total of thirty-one39 quaestiones40. In thirty-one natural questions concerning very different topics, there are nine quaestiones (3; 17–22; 28; 30) in direct relation to the animals, discussing their qualities, attitudes, activities, reproductive cycle and use. Moreover, there are indirect references to the animal world also in five other quaestiones (1; 2; 13; 23; 25) concerning nutrition, fishing, hunting and traces left in the environment. Then dogs, wolves and bees are the 39 In 1542, the Dutch humanist Gybertus Longolius published his Latin versio of Plutarch’s αἰτίαι φυσικαί. That translation contained thirty-nine quaestiones and its style was characterized by amplifications, periphrasis, redundancies and couples of words written “sententias magis quam verba curans”, as C. Hubert noted; see Sandbach (1965) 142; Morales Ortiz (1999) 145; Hubert (2001) IX; Senzasono (2006) 49; Meeusen (2012b) 109. D.A. Wyttenbach’s edition of αἰτίαι φυσικαί stopped at the end of the Quaestio 31, writing: “Ita librarii in omnibus nostris libris notarunt. Una Longolii Latina versio, facta e codice mediolanensi, et hanc suo fine integram, et insuper octo habet quaestiones. De quo hic non est quaerere locus”; see Wyttenbach (1797) 719. C. Hubert’s preface to the Teubner edition of the Plutarchean αἰτίαι φυσικαί explains the inclusion of the eight ‘Longolian’ questions asserting: “(…) ulla causa est cur ei diffidamus dicenti se ea in codice graeco Mediolanensi invenisse, praesertim cum eum complures annos in Italia degisse constet”. Moreover, Hubert underlines that a homo doctus of 1500, on an Aldine Ambrosianus exemplar “(…) manu sua adscripsit: ‘desunt problemata octo quae in eo quod versum est exemplari inveniuntur’ (…)”, as well as another vir quidam doctus, on folium 30v of the miscellaneous codex Ambrosianus 723 (R 115 sup., saec. XVI), among the variae lectiones of Plutarchean Moralia, “cum alia multa (…) haec transtulit: ‘in extrema pagina haec habentur: desunt problemata octo quae in eo quod versum est exemplari inveniuntur’ (…)”. Then, Hubert recognized the Aldine edition used by Longolius to translate the first thirty-one Quaestiones naturales as descended from a manuscript of the family Π; see Hubert (2001) IX. The “Introduction” to Sandbach’s “Causes of Natural Phaenomena” contains a section called “The additional questions”, where the author points out the impossibility to identify the real content of a lost manuscript. However, Sandbach believes that “Longolius did not use” that lost manuscript “to supply the deficiencies of the Aldine”. Moreover, following Westerink’s opinion, F.H. Sandbach identifies De omnifaria doctrina 101 and 106 as two of the lost problemata of Plutarch’s Quaestiones naturales. So, he places these two quaestiones in the appendix to his edition of the work, calling them Quaestio XL and Quaestio XLI, and recognizing their parallelism with other sections of the Plutarchean Quaestiones convivales; see Irigoin (1987) CCLXXXIV; Sandbach (1965) 142–144; 226–229; Meeusen (2012b) 109. While criticizing the great freedom of translation used by Longolius, L. Senzasono’s “Cause dei fenomeni naturali” regard the Latin versio of the Dutch humanist as a “testimonianza imperfetta, ma nel complesso certa del pensiero di Plutarco in quella parte perduta dell’opuscolo”. So, Senzasono adds the eight Longolian quaestiones to the Greek text of the thirty-one αἰτίαι φυσικαί contained in the manuscripts; see Senzasono (2006) 50–51; Meeusen (2012b) 107– 108. 40 See Sandbach (1965) 144–147; Hubert (2001) V–IX; Senzasono (2006) 48–49.

SOME NOTES ON PLUTARCH’S QUAESTIONES NATURALES

119

topic of four other natural problems (35–38) translated by Longolius and missing in the Plutarchean manuscripts. But above all, Quaestio 26 tries to investigate why the animals seek food with healthy properties to gain benefit when they are suffering because of illness. Plutarch mentions exempla such as dogs that eat grass to vomit bile, pigs that eat crayfish to treat headache, bears with nausea that swallow ants to feel better, and turtles that add oregano to the meal41 after eating viper meat. According to Plutarch, the unclear and enchanting nature of these tricks is due to the lack of πεῖρα and περίπτωσις, together with the ability of those animals to identify potentially healthy δυνάμεις as material causes and passive powers. The first of Plutarch’s hypotheses is that ὀσμαί and ῥεύματα lead animal instincts towards those natural remedies: according to this explanation, pigs, turtles and bears are moved by the αἴσθησις rather than by the λογισμός, just like, from a distance, through the sense of smell, the honeycombs attract the bees, and the carcasses excite the vultures. The second of Plutarch’s hypotheses is that the animal ὄρεξις could be caused by the κρᾶσις σώματος developed by some diseases, that give rise to an alteration of internal liquids, such as blood, bile and phlegm; then, these liquids may produce bitter, sweet, unusual and even immense qualities42. Therefore, as pointed out also in Quaest. conv. 6,2,687B– 689A, the body’s complexion would contribute to achieve internal balance through the condition of appetite, that is realized by the instinct. Inside the body, the presence of liquids that are variously combined or altered would be clearly demonstrated ἐπὶ τῶν γυναικῶν, ὅταν κύωσι, καὶ λίθους καὶ γῆν προσφερομένων. This unusual way of feeding allows the χαρίεντες ἰατροί43 to diagnose the chances of survival for the patient on the basis of the appetites shown, which are a direct consequence of the body’s complexion caused by the diseases. And, in analogy with the human experience, Plutarch closes the Quaestio 26 identifying in animals a natural disposition that leads them to the survival through appetites which happen from time to time, if they are suffering from νοσήματα μὴ παντελῶς ὀλέθρια μηδ’ ἀναιρετικά. The key παράδειγμα for the logical and narrative development of the Quaestio 26 is the appetite of pregnant women, who ate stones and earth probably because of the upheaval of the internal liquids caused by the child carried in the womb. Now we need to analyze the section 801A of Plutarch’s Praecepta gerendae reipublicae in order to understand the real purpose of this curious habit, which, at first sight, might present a

41 42 43

See also Senzasono (2006) 221–223. See also Senzasono (2006) 224–225. See also Senzasono (2006) 225.

120

FABIO TANGA

risk for the health of the pregnant women. After discussing the private life of the statesmen, recognizing that people like or dislike not only the public acts of the politicians, but also their private behavior, Plutarch asks why the cities sometimes choose rulers who ἀσελγῶς καὶ τεθρυμμένως ζῶσιν. Two exempla help the philosopher of Chaeronea to answer the question: καὶ γὰρ αἱ κιττῶσαι λίθους (…) διώκουσι πολλάκις, εἶτ’ ὀλίγον ὕστερον ἐξέπτυσαν καὶ ἀπεστράφησαν· οὕτω καὶ οἱ δῆμοι διὰ τρυφὴν καὶ ὕβριν βελτιόνων ἀπορίᾳ δημαγωγῶν χρῶνται44. As well as the sailors suffering from nausea, who crave pickled food and other similar foods, and just like pregnant women, who often want to eat stones that, immediately after eating, they reject and hate, in the same way, because of their weakness and insolence, and due to the lack of better leaders, the people elect demagogues who are similarly hated and despised. Then, Plutarch quotes a fragment of Plato the poet, where, during the election of various demagogues, the people get ready to vomit with a basin and a feather. The amusement of the audience in front of this derisive representation of politics could be taken as a proof of the humoral lack of political awareness and foresight of the people, and this behavior is associated once again with forced vomiting, just like the previous ‘stony’ female appetite. Looking at this section of the Praecepta gerendae reipublicae, we might infer that the habit of eating stones was not only a mere appetite stimulated by the internal movements of the baby, but it probably was also a way to fight the nausea and to cause vomiting in pregnant women45. So, it could be a raptus of sudden and uncontrolled hunger, or a conscious method of self-induced vomiting. Another admissible hypothesis could be that, out of control because of the hunger, pregnant women swallowed stones that they immediately vomited out because of the nausea. However, it still remains to be seen if the desire to eat stones derived from traditions, rituals, beliefs or medical uses practiced by pregnant women. Plutarch certainly quotes this habit, twice and in different contexts, as a stereotype of a mysterious and anomalous natural relationship between desire and rejection. Moreover, the habit to ingest stones seems to be described as recurring and common among pregnant women, as if usus had made less abnormal this practice, and creating, therefore, an exemplar anecdote to be used in rhetorical-paradigmatic discussions. Then, if we

44

“(…) and pregnant women often long for stones (…) which then a little later they spew out and detest; so the people of democracies, because of the luxury of their own lives or through sheer perversity, or for lack of better leaders, make use of demagogues”. 45 Senzasono calls “voglie di donne incinte” the unusual behavior of pregnant women described in Praec. ger. reip. 801A; see Senzasono (2006) 225.

SOME NOTES ON PLUTARCH’S QUAESTIONES NATURALES

121

compare Quaest. nat. 26 and Praec. ger. reip. 801A, it is clear that Plutarch’s description probably concerns two different steps of the same practice. In fact, women eat stones46 because of their great appetite, that is caused by the movement of internal liquids; so, women seem to be looking for an inner balance. Later, when this appetite has been satisfied, it generates vomiting and hate towards the things ingested47. In the first case, Plutarch focuses on the causes of the phenomenon, and in the second case the philosopher of Chaeronea highlights the effects of the phenomenon, describing and exploiting for demonstrative purposes two different moments of the same habit. Pliny devotes NH 28,77 to medical remedia that are derived from animals and, about purgationes mulierum, in paragraphs 246–247 he reports a similar and interesting evidence: tradunt cervas, cum senserint se gravidas, lapillum devorare, quem in excrementis repertum aut in vulva – nam et ibi invenitur – custodire partus adalligatum. Inveniuntur et ossicula in corde et in vulva perquam utilia gravidis parturientibusque. Nam de pumice, qui in vaccarum utero simili modo invenitur diximus in natura boum48. During pregnancy, hinds devour a pebble that comes into their excrements and vulva, and also in the cows’ uterus can be found a small stone. According to Pliny, in the hinds’ heart and vulva there are also ossicles that are extraordinarily useful to pregnant women and childbirth. So, in analogy with women described by Plutarch, hinds and cows ingest pebbles, during pregnancy, in order to custodire partus. Then, found in the entrails of the animals, these stones are very useful to help pregnant women and childbirth. Pliny already knew the comparisons with the animal world and the health effects of the small stones’ ingestion on pregnant women; however, he made no reference to side effects and symptoms, as vomiting and nausea, that have been described by Plutarch’s essays. Moreover, as a support for pregnancy, Pliny talked about ossicles and little stones, instead of talking about earth and little stones. Pliny described

46

Quaest. nat. 26. Praec. ger. reip. 801A. 48 “Hinds, they say, when they find themselves pregnant, are in the habit of swallowing a small stone. This stone, when found in their excrements, or in the uterus – for it is to be found there as well – attached to the body as an amulet, is a preventive of abortion. There are also certain small stones, found in the heart and uterus of these animals, which are very helpful for women during pregnancy and in travail. As to the kind of pumicestone which is similarly found in the uterus of the cow, we have already mentioned it when treating of the formation of that animal”. 47

122

FABIO TANGA

hinds and cows that protected their fetuses with the help of pebbles as amulet against abortion, and he showed the stones as very useful to pregnant women. When Plutarch states that pregnant women eat stones, maybe he implicitly refers to the same habit described by Pliny’s Naturalis Historia. But Pliny ascribed the ingestion of pebbles, rather than to the appetite, to the purpose of preserving fetus, that is a medical-apotropaic end not explicitly mentioned in Quaest. nat. 26 and in Praec. ger. reip. 801A. In fact, the narrative context of these two Plutarchean passages seems focused on the unexpected consequences of an anomalous deed caused by an unnatural appetite, more than on understanding the real purpose of eating stones. Aristotle’s EN 1148b24–29 assumed, about bestiality and morbidity, that τρώξεις ἀνθράκων καὶ γῆς were a morbid status derived from habits49. Then, making no reference to pregnancy, Aristotle called the practice of eating coal and earth νοσηματώδεις ἐξ ἔθους, just like hair pulling, eating nails and making love between men. As a result of the mostly Peripatetic imprint of Quaestiones naturales, pregnant women described by Plutarch probably showed the features of a kind of common pathological status that led them to ingest stones. Otherwise, just like eating nails or pulling hair, this habit could be the consequence of an enduring and inexplicable physical or psychological disease, rather than a medical-apotropaic practice or a result of hunger. In a didactic phase devoted to show the prognostic meaning of the signs concerning various diseases, Hippocrates, Prorrh. 2,31 (9,64,11) states that young people suffering for a long time from bad skin tone, that never becomes a jaundiced hue, οὗτοι καὶ τῶν ἀνδρῶν καὶ τῶν γυναικῶν κεφαλὴν ἀλγέουσι, καὶ λίθους τε καὶ γῆν τρώγουσι, καὶ αἱμορροΐδας ἔχουσιν50. Then the essay argues that a similar syndrome concerned young people suffering from a greenish-yellow, but never jaundiced, skin tone; however, instead of eating stones and earth, they felt more pain in the hypochondrium. So, this treatise of the Corpus Hippocraticum spoke about eating earth and stones as an essential part of a clearly defined pathology that concerned boys and girls, while in the same essay, in the section devoted to the diseases of pregnant women there was no mention of such a practice. In the Corpus Hippocraticum, the essay entitled De superfetatione is entirely devoted to issues related to ἐπικύησις, as pregnancy and childbirth, and the section 486,8–10 (18) contains a very interesting evidence. After discussing about signs, causes and therapies for pregnant women,

49

See also Aristotle, EN 1148b15–19. “These, both men and women, suffer headaches, eat stones and earth, and have haemorrhoids”; Potter (1995) 281. 50

SOME NOTES ON PLUTARCH’S QUAESTIONES NATURALES

123

and after speaking about fetuses that are dead, sick, or about to die, the author says: Ἤν τις κυϊσκομένη γῆν ἐπιθυμέῃ ἐσθίειν ἢ ἄνθρακας καὶ ἐσθίῃ, ἐπὶ τῆς κεφαλῆς τοῦ παιδίου φαίνεται, ὁκόταν γένηται, σημεῖον ἀπὸ τοιούτων51. If a pregnant woman had wanted to eat earth or coals, at the time of childbirth on the baby’s head would have appeared a σημεῖον of the things ingested. The reference to this practice among the anecdotes mentioned by Hippocrates’ De superfetatione allows to think that maybe this habit was common or, at least, widespread enough. As a worth discussing topic, it probably was an anomalous habit and, at the same time, it was secretly or uncontrollably practiced, in moments of unconsciousness or unawareness. And this is proved by the fact that the practice could be discovered perhaps only after the baby’s birth. Moreover, Plutarch talks about two habits: the hunger of earth and the appetite of coal, that are two different habits assembled in a single one by the author. Then, Plutarch will speak about stones rather than coal, offering an interpretation that is slightly different, perhaps more generic, of the same practice previously mentioned in the Corpus Hippocraticum. If the tradition has often connected stones to pregnancy mainly for apotropaic or medical purposes, as a way to ward off evil eye52 and to avoid abortion53, the ingestion of earth does not seem to have a plausible explanation, if not related to the field of eating disorders. And in fact, the phenomenon described by Plutarch and by the Corpus Hippocraticum might be just the mental disorder called ‘Pica’, or ‘Magpie Syndrome’, from the name of the bird that seems to like to swallow everything is catching his attention. ‘Picacism’ is an eating disorder characterized by the ingestion of non-nutritive substances, just like earth or stones, that sometimes affects pregnant women with a desire for inappropriate foods caused by anemia and iron deficiency. Then, this syndrome regresses with the correction of the deficiency or with the end of pregnancy, while in some cases it may express also a kind of obsessive-compulsive disorder, that has been recognized as a mental disorder by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders54. 51 “If a pregnant woman wishes to eat earth or coal, and she does so, a mark will appear on the head of the child at birth as a result”; Potter (2010) 331. 52 About the evil eye in Plutarch see also Volpe Cacciatore (2012) 172–179. 53 In ancient times people believed that stones (such as lapis lazuli and jasper) had negative or healthy effects on childbirth, while the practice of flintstones called ‘pietre lattaiole’ and ‘pietre d’aquila’ was the result of popular apotropaic beliefs, and in the Christian era some people drank rock dust from the sanctuaries to protect and support the child. See Gimma (1730) 266; Lemery (1751) 7; Dini (1980) 62; 205; Dini (1989); Fumagalli (2000) 115. 54 The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM) is a manual published since 1952 by the American Psychiatric Association (APA). Following the

124

FABIO TANGA

It seems that this anomalous eating habit was well known to Plutarch and medical authors, who elaborated different theories and conjectures to explain a syndrome whose origins they ignored. The frequency of this syndrome among pregnant women probably made it a τόπος to paradoxically connect desire and rejection, even in a literary and narrative context. In the spirit of an ἐγκύκλιος παιδεία inspired by a varied and composite Aristotelian Platonism, Plutarch brilliantly fulfilled the task to present himself as a polygraph, as an author of essays, but especially as a ‘cultural diffuser’. Following the Hellenistic science, “chiamata a farsi persuasiva, retoricamente efficace, a mobilitare quegli effetti di pistis che già in Aristotele si accompagnavano alla cogenza scientifica”55, Plutarch spreads a science mainly characterized by the mix. Then, to be more persuasive, this science has become basically a literary fact that gives priority to commentary, explanation and vulgarization. Plutarch certainly shows a typically humanist mental approach, inclined to promote discussion across the board, rather than to try specific solutions that could be new and bold. Moreover, concerning Plutarch’s essays devoted to scientific and naturalistic topics, just like Quaestiones naturales, it is possible to infer that these works have been written for an educated, but not technical, audience. Just drawing from all the basins where the river of science has been divided after the Peripatetic diaspora, Plutarch promiscuously uses his vast knowledge, making no distinction in dignity between the aphorism of the poet, the word of the scientist and the saying of the famous man, and showing a great interest in combining theoretical observation with real practice. Fabio Tanga Università degli Studi di Salerno Bibliography Adriani, M. (1841), Opuscoli di Plutarco volgarizzati da Marcello Adriani, nuovamente confrontati col testo e illustrati con note da Francesco Ambrosoli. Prima edizione napolitana a due colonne con rami. Napoli, per Gaetano Nobile Libraio-tipografo.

International Classification of Diseases (ICD), it includes all currently recognized mental health disorders and is used to describe the features of a mental disorder, also indicating how the disorder can be distinguished from other similar problems. 55 See Vegetti (1984) 456. See also Donini (1984) 373–374; Battegazzore (1992) 32–37.

SOME NOTES ON PLUTARCH’S QUAESTIONES NATURALES

125

Amyot, J. (1597), Les Oeuvres Meslées de Plutarque, Translatées de Grec en François, reveues et corrigees en plusieurs passages par le Translateur. Avec Preface generale, Sommaires au commencement de chacun livre, annotations en marge, de nouveau reveues & augmentees de moitié. Avec un Indice des choses memorables mentionnees esdites œuvres. Second Tome. A Paris, Chez Mathieu Guillemot. Au Palais en la gallerie par où on va à la Chancellerie. Battegazzore, A.M. (1992), “L’atteggiamento di Plutarco verso le scienze”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di Magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 19–59. Bernardakis, G.N. (1893), Plutarchi Chaeronensis Moralia, recognovit Gregorius N. Bernardakis, vol. V, Lipsiae (BT). Bétolaud, V. (1870), Oeuvres complètes de Plutarque. Oeuvres morales et Oeuvres diverses, traduites en français par Victor Bétolaud, Docteur ès lettres de la Faculté de Paris, Ancien professeur de l’ Université, chevalier de la Légion d’honneur. Tome quatrième. Paris, Librairie Hachette et Cie. Cruserius, H. (1573), Plutarchi Chaeronei, Ethica, sive Moralia, Opera quae extant, omnia: Interprete Hermanno Cruserio I.C. atque illustrissimi Ducis Cliuensis & Iuliacensis Consiliario. Accesserunt rerum & verborum fidelissimi indices. Cum gratia et priuilegio Regio, Basileae, apud Thomam Guarinum. Desideri, P. (1992), “Scienza nelle Vite di Plutarco”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di Magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 73–89. Diels, H. (1905), “Aristotelica”, Hermes 40, 301–316. Dini, V. (1980), Il potere delle antiche madri: fecondità e culti delle acque nella cultura subalterna toscana, Torino. Dini, V. (1989), “Le madri del parto, delle acque, della terra. Continuità protettiva e santuari terapeutici”, in Giani Gallino, T. (ed.), Le Grandi Madri. Atti del Convegno (Torino, febbraio 1988), Milano, 84–92. Döhner, T. (1862), Quaestiones Plutarcheae, II, Meissen. Donini, P. (1984), “Problemi del pensiero scientifico a Roma: il primo e il secondo secolo d.C.”, in Giannantoni, G. – Vegetti, M. (eds.), La scienza ellenistica. Atti delle tre giornate di studio tenutesi a Pavia dal 14 al 16 aprile 1982, Napoli, 355–374. Dübner, F. (1877), Plutarchi Scripta Moralia. Ex codicibus quos possidet Regia Bibliotheca omnibus ab Κόντῳ cum Reiskiana editione collatis emendavit Fredericus Dübner. Græce et Latine. Vol. II. Parisiis, Editore Ambrosio Firmin Didot, Instituti Franciae Typographo. Flacelière, R. – Irigoin, J. – Sirinelli, J. – Philippon, A. (1987), Plutarque. Œuvres morales, tome I, 1 (Introduction générale – De l’éducation des enfants – Comment lire les poètes), Paris (CUF). Froben, H. (1542), Plutarchi Chaeronei Moralia Opuscula, multis mendarum milibus expurgata. Basileae, per Hier. Frobenium et Nic. Episcopium.

126

FABIO TANGA

Fumagalli, M. (2000), Dizionario di alchimia e di chimica farmaceutica antiquaria, Roma. Gandino, M.A. (1625), Opuscoli Morali di Plutarco Cheronese; Filosofo, & Historico notabilissimo. Parte Seconda. Tradotti in volgare dal Sig. Marc’Antonio Gandino, & da altri Letterati. In questa ultima Impressione da infinitissimi errori espurgata, et diligentemente corretta. Con due tavole, una delli opuscoli; & l’altra delle cose più Notabili. Con licenza de’ Superiori e Privilegi. In Venetia, Appresso Gio. Battista Combi. Gimma, G. (1730), Della storia naturale delle gemme, delle pietre, e di tutti i minerali, ovvero della fisica sotterranea, t. 1, Napoli, nella stamperia di Gennaro Muzio, erede di Michele-Luigi. Con Licenza de’ Superiori, e Privilegio. Harrison, G.W.M. (2000), “Tipping his Hand: Plutarch’s Preferences in the Quaestiones Naturales”, in Van der Stockt, L. (ed.), Rhetorical Theory and Praxis in Plutarch. Acta of the Ivth International Congress of the International Plutarch Society (Leuven, July 3–6, 1996), Leuven, 237–250. Hubert, C. – Pohlenz, M. (2001), Plutarchi Moralia, vol. V, fasc. 3, recensuerunt et emendaverunt C. Hubert et M. Pohlenz, editio altera, addenda adiecit H. Drexler, editio stereotypa editionis secundae (MCMLX). Lipsiae (BT). Lemery, N. (1751), Dizionario overo Trattato Universale delle Droghe Semplici. In cui si ritrovano i loro differenti nomi, la loro origine, la loro scelta, i principj, che hanno, le loro qualità, la loro etimologia, e tutto ciò, che v’ha di particolare negli Animali, ne’ Vegetabili, e ne’ Minerali. Opera dipendente dalla Farmacopea Universale scritta in francese dal sig. Niccolo’ Lemery. Dell’Accademia Reale e delle Scienze Dottore in Medicina, E tradotta in Italiano. Edizione Terza Accresciuta. In Venezia. Appresso Giuseppe Bertella. Nel negozio Hertz. Con licenza de’ Superiori, e Privilegio. Longolius, G. (1542), Ex Plutarchi Chaeronei moralibus opuscula aliquot hactenus non conuersa. Num seni sit gerenda Respublica. De parentum erga liberos amore. Causarum naturalium liber unus. Disceptatio, utrum ignis an aqua sit utilior. Item alia quaedam. D. Gyberto Longolio interprete. Cum gratia et privilegio. Coloniae Ioan. Gymnicus excudebat. Meeusen, M. (2012a), “Matching in Mind the Sea Beast’s Complexion. On the Pragmatics of Plutarch’s Hypomnemata and Scientific Innovation: the Case of Q.N. 19 (916BF)”, Philologus 156, 234–259. Meeusen, M. (2012b), “Salt in the Holy Water: Plutarch’s Quaestiones Naturales in Michael Psellus’ De omnifaria doctrina”, in Roig Lanzillotta, L. – Muñoz Gallarte, I. (eds.), Plutarch in the Religious and Philosophical Discourse of Late antiquity, Leiden – Boston, 101–120. Migne, J.-P. (1889), Patrologiae cursus completus seu Bibliotheca universalis, integra, uniformis, commoda, oeconomica, omnium SS. Patrum, Doctorum Scriptorumque Ecclesiasticorum, sive Latinorum, sive Graecorum, qui ab aevo apostolico ad aetatem Innocentii III (anno 1216) pro Latinis et ad Bessarionis tempora (anno 863) pro Graecis floruerunt: Recusio Chronologica omnium quae exstitere monumentorum Catholicae traditionis per quindecim priora Ecclesiae Saecula et amplius …

SOME NOTES ON PLUTARCH’S QUAESTIONES NATURALES

127

Series Graeca in qua prodeunt Patres, Doctores Scriptoresque Ecclesiae Graecae a S. Barnaba ad Bessarionem, accurante J.-P. Migne, Bibliothecae Cleri universae sive cursuum completorum in singulos scientiae ecclesiasticae ramos editore. Patrologiae Graecae Tomus CXXII. Georgius Cedrenus, Joannes Scylitzes, Michael Psellus. Parisiis, apud Garnier fratres, editores et J.-P. Migne successores, in via dicta: Avenue du Maine, 189, olim Chaussée du Maine, 127. Morales Ortiz, A. (1999), “Observaciones a la traducción latina de G. Longueil de Aetia Physica de Plutarco”, Myrtia 14, 143–151. Parroni, P. (2002), Seneca, Ricerche sulla natura, Milano. Pearson, L. – Sandbach, F.H. (1965), Plutarch’s Moralia, vol. XI (On the malice of Herodotus – Causes of natural phenomena), Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Potter, P. (1995), Hippocrates, vol. VIII, Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Potter, P. (2010), Hippocrates, vol. IX, Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Ramón Palerm, V. – Bergua Cavero, J. (2002), Plutarco. Obras Morales y de Costumbres (Moralia), IX, Madrid (Biblioteca Clásica Gredos 299). Ricard, D. (1844), Œuvres morales de Plutarque, traduites du grec par Ricard. Tome quatrième. A Paris, chez Lefèvre éditeur. Sambursky, S. (1965), Das physikalische Weltbild der Antike, Zürich – Stuttgart. Senzasono, L. (2006), Plutarco. Cause dei fenomeni naturali. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi Moralium 42). Stephanus, H. (1572), Plutarchi Chaeronensis quae extant opera, Cum Latina interpretatione. Ex vetustis codicibus plurima nunc primum emendata sunt, ut ex Henr. Stephani annotationibus intelliges: quibus et suam quorundam libellorum interpretationem adiunxit, Genevae. Tauchnitz, C. (1866), Plutarchi Chaeronensis Varia Scripta quae Moralia vulgo vocantur. Ad optimorum librorum fidem accurate edita. Editio Stereotypa C. Tauchnitiana. Tomus V. Nova impressio. Lipsiae, sumptibus Ottonis Holtze. Treu, M. (1873), Der sogenannte Lampriascatalog der Plutarchschriften, Waldenburg in Schlesien. Vegetti, M. (1984), “La scienza ellenistica: problemi di epistemologia storica”, in Giannantoni, G. – Vegetti, M. (eds.), La scienza ellenistica. Atti delle tre giornate di studio tenutesi a Pavia dal 14 al 16 aprile 1982, Napoli, 427–470. Volkmann, R. (1869), Leben, Schriften und Philosophie des Plutarch von Chaeronea, Berlin. Volpe Cacciatore, P. (2012), “Cicalata sul fascino volgarmente detto jettatura: Plutarch, Quaestio Convivalis 5.7”, in Roig Lanzillotta, L. – Muñoz Gallarte, I. (eds.), Plutarch in the Religious and Philosophical Discourse of Late antiquity, Leiden – Boston, 171–179. Xylander, W. (1570), Plutarchi Chaeronensis Moralia, quae usurpantur. Sunt autem omnis Elegantis doctrinae Penus: Id est, varij libri: morales, historici, physici,

128

FABIO TANGA

mathematici, denique; ad politiorem litteraturam pertinentes et humanitatem: omnes de Graeca in Latinam linguam transcripti summo labore, cura, ac fide: Guilielmo Xylandro Augustano interprete. Accesserunt his indices locupletissimi. Basileae, per Thomam Guarinum. Xylander, W. (1599), Plutarchi Chaeronensis omnium, quae exstant, operum Tomus Secundus, continens Moralia, Gulielmo Xylandro interprete, Francofurti, apud Andreae Wecheli heredes, Claudium Marnium, & Ioannem Aubrium. Westerink, L.G. (1948), Michael Psellus. De omnifaria doctrina, Nijmegen. Wyttenbach, D.A. (1797), Plutarchi Chaeronensis Moralia, id est opera, exceptis Vitis, reliqua, Graeca emendavit, notationem emendationum, et Latinam Xylandri interpretationem castigatam, subjunxit, animadversiones explicandis rebus ac verbis, item indices copiosos, adjecit D.A. Wyttenbach, Tomi IV. Pars II. Oxonii, e Typographeo Clarendoniano. Ziegler, K. (1951), “Plutarchos von Chaironeia”, in RE XXI.1, Stuttgart, 636–962.

Plutarch Solving Natural Problems: For What Cause? (The Case of Quaest. nat. 29,919AB)* MICHIEL MEEUSEN No natural exhalation in the sky, No scope of nature, no distemper’d day, No common wind, no customed event, But they will pluck away his natural cause And call them meteors, prodigies and signs, Abortives, presages and tongues of heaven, Plainly denouncing vengeance […] – William Shakespeare, King John 3,4 1. Introducing Plutarch’s science of natural problems Among Plutarch’s writings on natural science/philosophy especially his natural problems (προβλήματα) got a bad press in traditional scholarship, but in more recent years they seem to have provoked a renewed interest among scholars. This has led to a proliferation of studies on the topic1 and

*

All translations are borrowed from or inspired by the Loeb (with modifications). See, e.g., Teodorsson (1999); Harrison (2000); König (2007); Van der Stockt (2011); Oikonomopoulou (2011); Meeusen (2012a); Id. (2013); Id. (2014); Id. (forthcoming a) etc. The Quaestiones naturales have recently been re-edited with a commentary by Senzasono (2006), and a new edition for the CUF series will appear in the near future. The Philosopher’s Banquet by Klotz – Oikonomopoulou (2011) is a mile-stone in scholarship on the Quaestiones convivales, ca. one third of which specifically concerns sympotic discussions of natural problems. This volume spends much attention to the place Plutarch’s Quaestiones convivales holds in the literary and intellectual context of the early Roman empire, with important contributions, a.o., on Plutarch’s authorial self-presentation and his positioning towards the contemporary literary-intellectual tradition (sympotic, miscellanistic, Platonic, Peripatetic, medical etc. – on the latter see also esp. Vamvouri Ruffy (2012)). The volume also reflects on Plutarch’s natural scientific methodology, demonstrating that the search for plausible explanations in solving natural problems and the 1

130

MICHIEL MEEUSEN

to a re-evaluation of their – in many cases, indeed, somewhat ‘exotic’ but truly ‘ancient’ – scientific appeal2. As the study at hand will try to show, however, not each and every aspect of Plutarch’s natural problems has been fully valorised yet, and this applies especially to the eventual philosophical purpose the Chaeronean had in mind with them. Therefore, the goal of this paper is to interpret Plutarch’s natural problems in light of his broader (natural) philosophical project as set out throughout his oeuvre. Plutarch discusses natural problems in several of his writings: not only within the literary-sympotic framework of Quaestiones convivales, but also in a more autonomic fashion in Quaestiones naturales and in a number of scientific digressions (παρεκβάσεις) in the narratives of the Vitae3. Even though the direct literary contexts of the natural problems can, thus, clearly differ between the distinct ‘genres’ of the writings in which they are incorporated, Plutarch’s natural problems generally share a consistent approach to dealing with natural phenomena by finding their model in the Aristotelian Problemata physica, with its particular formal, theoretical and terminological characteristics4. There is also a consistent world view against which Plutarch’s natural problems can be set, which is firmly inspired, as scholars have demonstrated, by Platonic ontology and epistemology5.

eventual open-endedness of the aetiologies ties in closely with Plutarch’s Platonism – a view that will be broadened in the study at hand, where the main focus shifts from the method of explaining problematic natural phenomena towards the actual purpose of their problematisation in the first place. 2 Croiset (1899) 511, n. 1, for instance, resentfully described the collection of Quaestiones naturales as “un ouvrage sans valeur”. This negative view was echoed much later by Levi (1985) 477, who holds that “[i]t would be a mistake to value Plutarch only for his Questions and Table Talks and his infinite fund of gossip.” – Is it just gossip, then? With regard to the scientific value of the natural problems discussed throughout Quaestiones convivales, Fuhrmann (1972) xxiii bade the modern reader, in a rather condescending fashion, not to be too severe towards Plutarch, given that his time was afflicted with “un affaiblissement général de l’ esprit scientifique”. König (2007) 51, however, has rightfully criticized Führmann’s remark as “an assumption which exemplifies a common failure to understand the rhetorical idiom of so much ancient scientific writing”. See also the preface to this volume (nn. 11–12) and the introduction in Meeusen (forthcoming a). 3 See Desideri (1992); Boulogne (2008). See also the contributions of Luisa Lesage Gárriga and Ana Ferreira to this volume. 4 See Flashar (1962) 369–370. For the influence of Aristotelian/Peripatetic science on Plutarch’s natural problems, see Teodorsson (1999); Oikonomopoulou (2011); Meeusen (forthcoming b). In Quaest. conv. 734D we actually find L. Mestrius Florus reading a copy of Aristotle’s Problemata physica and discussing it with his friends. 5 See Kechagia (2011); Meeusen (2014).

PLUTARCH SOLVING NATURAL PROBLEMS: FOR WHAT CAUSE?

131

When it comes to the actual purpose of the natural problems Plutarch discusses throughout his oeuvre most scholars refer to their educational value as rhetorical-scientific exercises to be placed, more precisely, in the wider context of Plutarch’s philosophical school6. Especially with regard to Quaestiones convivales scholars have, for the most part rightly, underlined the basic educational agenda behind Plutarch’s natural problems (amongst other kinds of problems), stressing the fact that they provide an agonistic (but amusing and friendly) framework for rhetorical demonstration and the ingenious display of multifarious παιδεία. The interlocutors, indeed, generally attempt to show off their scholarly knowledge of traditional authorities in combination with their proficiency to remodel this knowledge in an original fashion to the always new problem contexts at issue. But in my opinion the picture can and should be nuanced a little more, because it remains unexplained for which exact purpose such exercises were useful, then. Were they merely intellectual, but for the rest entirely noncommittal, games played by learned people, or is there more to them? In this contribution I will try to formulate an answer to this question by providing a close reading of Quaest. nat. 29. As we will see, this problem may be seminal for a proper understanding of the philosophical purpose of the wider collection of Quaestiones naturales and hence of the place of Plutarch’s natural problems amongst his other (natural) philosophical writings. Bearing in mind the well-known dichotomy in Plutarch’s view on causality, where the material causes go firmly hand in hand with the final ones7, this contribution will argue that the practice of solving natural problems by means of looking for physical aetiologies is to a major degree of a scholarly and rhetorical kind for Plutarch, but that the eventual goal is a more elevated and philosophical one (in the sense of philosophia prima, i.e. theology): it provides a useful tool against superstition (δεισιδαμονία) and, thus, enables a person to attain a well-reasoned devotion towards the divine (εὐσέβεια)8. Needless 6 Cf., e.g., Arat. 25: τοὺς φιλοσόφους ἐν ταῖς σχολαῖς ζητοῦντας κτλ. For the notion of ‘intellectual exercises’, cf., e.g., De tuenda 130A (περὶ γυμνασίων φιλολόγοις ἁρμοζόντων); Quaest. conv. 628D (ἐγγυμνάσασθαι γάρ, εἰ μηδὲν ἄλλο χρήσιμον, ὁ λόγος παρέξει); 646A (γυμνασίας ἕνεκα καὶ ζητήσεως). See Teodorsson (1989) 290: “The discussions at the drinkingparties were pursued as a sport and training in εὑρησιλογία […].” See also, e.g., König (2007); Van der Stockt (2011). 7 Cf., e.g., Per. 6. For a seminal study of Plutarch’s view on causality, see Donini (1992). 8 Scholars have drawn this link between Plutarch’s other natural scientific writings (esp. De facie) and his broader philosophical project, but the case has not yet been made with equal scholarly conviction for his natural problems. See, e.g., Görgemanns (1968) 10–11; Id. (1970) 85; Donini (1986); Id. (1992); Opsomer (1998) 214.

132

MICHIEL MEEUSEN

to say, of course, that both options are fully commensurable with one another, in that physical aetiology can be considered a suitable exercise in eradicating superstitious beliefs (i.e. a rhetorical training in natural philosophical ζήτησις). 2. Physical aetiology vs. popular superstition: an interpretation of Quaest. nat. 29 In Quaest. nat. 29,919AB we find a problem that stands somewhat isolated in the collection. It is relatively atypical not only from a formal perspective9, but its content is also much more reflective and rhetorical than is the case in Plutarch’s other natural problems. Unfortunately the ending of the problem is lacunary: it breaks off abruptly, but I will attempt to restore the text’s original argument on the basis of several parallel accounts in Plutarch’s oeuvre. In doing so, I will argue that this problem can inform us not only about the intended readership of Quaestiones naturales but sheds light also on the natural philosophical agenda behind Plutarch’s natural problems, which it probably even tried to authorize. For this reason, Quaest. nat. 29 is perhaps the most significant problem of the entire collection. Initially, the reader might expect that Plutarch will simply treat yet another natural problem here as he did before and will continue to do in the problems that follows, but the tone of the discourse rapidly changes. Plutarch wonders why we marvel at hot springs but not at cold ones, while it is clear that heat is the cause of the former and cold of the latter (Τίς ἡ αἰτία, δι’ ἣν τὰ ψυχρὰ τῶν ὑδάτων οὐ θαυμάζομεν ἀλλὰ τὰ θερμά; καίτοι δῆλον ὅτι θερμότης αἰτία τούτων ὡς ψυχρότης ἐκείνων)10. According to Plutarch’s personal theory put forward in De prim. frig. 952C–955C not water but earth is the principle of cold, so from this perspective the question seems legitimate: if all springs rise from the earth, why are some hot and others cold, then? Plutarch’s answer is as clear as the paradox is in itself. He

9 The formulation of the problem (both the quaestio and the aetiology) is somewhat loose. The introduction of the quaestio with the phrase τίς ἡ αἰτία δι’ ἥν is exceptional (normally with διὰ τί; but cf. also Quaest. nat. 40; with Meeusen (2012b)), and the aetiology is not based on the typical disjunctive scheme of the explanations (πότερον … ἤ … ἤ …). 10 Hot springs were a popular subject of natural scientific inquiry in antiquity. They fall under the general theme of book 24 of the Aristotelian Problemata physica (ὅσα περὶ τὰ θέρμα ὕδατα). Sarton (1965) 388, n. 28 notes that “[h]ot and mineral springs were highly appreciated and exploited by the Romans, as they had been before them by the Greeks, Etruscans, Carthaginians, and Gauls. Balneology began in prehistoric times.” In Ca. Ma. 21,5 Plutarch reports that Cato the Elder bought ὕδατα θερμά. On the generation and disappearance of νάματα θερμά, see De def. or. 433F (cf. also Mar. 19,2). On the generation of springs in general, see Aem. 14.

PLUTARCH SOLVING NATURAL PROBLEMS: FOR WHAT CAUSE?

133

points out (already in the quaestio) that there is in fact not much reason to marvel at this phenomenon, because it is obvious that heat is the reason for the former and cold for the latter (καίτοι δῆλον ὅτι θερμότης αἰτία τούτων ὡς ψυχρότης ἐκείνων). This seems quite right, but it remains unclear where this heat or cold exactly comes from. We will learn from the subsequent aetiology, however, that not so much the natural phenomenon of hot or cold springs as such, but rather the aspect of marvelling is central here (θαυμάζομεν). If wonder is the beginning of philosophy, why not wonder about wonder itself, after all11? At the beginning of the explanation Plutarch makes an abstract and ‘sophisticated’ remark about the essence of cold. He explains that it is not true, as some believe (probably Aristotle and/or the Peripatetics), that heat is an active property, whereas cold is a privation of heat12, because the non-existent (i.c. cold) would then appear to be responsible for more phenomena than the existent (i.c. heat) (Οὐ γάρ, ὡς ἔνιοι νομίζουσιν, ἡ μὲν θερμότης δύναμίς ἐστιν ἡ δὲ ψυχρότης στέρησις θερμότητος, ἐπεὶ πλειόνων αἴτιον φανεῖται τὸ μὴ ὂν τοῦ ὄντος). What Plutarch is probably implying is that cold springs occur more frequently than hot springs, so that they are less ‘wonderful’, as was put forward in the quaestio (οὐ θαυμάζομεν). The relation between wonder and rarity is further elaborated in what follows. It appears, so Plutarch continues, that nature attributes marvel to rarity and stimulates the research of how a phenomenon comes to be only if it occurs infrequently (ἀλλ’ ἔοικε τῷ σπανίῳ τὸ θαυμάσιον ἡ φύσις νέμουσα πῶς γίνεται ζητεῖν τὸ μὴ πολλάκις γινόμενον). The idea that the ‘less marvellous’ phenomena (i.c. cold springs) deserve attention just as well may very well be present here (it is also paralleled in several other ancient authors)13, but the message Plutarch tries to convey is probably more

11 For the idea that wonder triggers philosophy, cf., e.g., De E 385C; Quaest. conv. 680CD; Plato, Tht. 155d; Aristotle, Metaph. 982b11–15 with Opsomer (1998) 80. For the opposite idea that philosophy is the end of wonder, cf. De aud. 44BC with Roskam (2005) 352. For further discussion, see Meeusen (2014), 325–326. 12 The same theory, according to which cold is a δύναμις rather than a στέρησις of heat, is further elaborated in the first part of De primo frigido (945F–948A). See Jan Opsomer’s contribution to this volume, esp. n. 20 for the Platonic backdrop. The theory that cold is a στέρησις of heat is Aristotelian. Cf. Metaph. 1070b9–13; Cael. 286a25–26; GC 318b14–17; but by contrast, cf. PA 649a18–19 (see also Longo (1992)). If Plutarch is implicitly referring to the Peripatetics with ἔνιοι, it appears that these are criticized without their name being explicitly mentioned. This procedure is not uncommon in the Moralia (as marked by Babut (1969) 95 with nn. 5 and 6 and Id. (1994) 574, with n. 137). Aristotle is anonymously criticized also in De def. or. 426D. Let it be clear, moreover, that these ἔνιοι should not be identified with οἱ πολλοί further on. 13 See Aristotle, PA 645a16–17; Seneca, QN 7,1–4; Cicero, ND 2,96; Ps.-Cicero, Rhet. ad Her. 3,36; Lucretius, 2,1030–1039; Pliny, Ep. 8,20, esp. 1–2.

134

MICHIEL MEEUSEN

fundamental than that. If my interpretation of the sentence at issue is correct, wonder is, remarkably enough, not so much considered a human πάθος but an inherent attribute of φύσις itself, which it distributes to its phenomena14. In this sense, the wonders of nature present themselves spontaneously (or ‘naturally’), and they strongly appeal to a proper understanding by examining how the phenomena come to be (πῶς γίνεται ζητεῖν)15. From what follows we will learn that the way in which the coming to be of the phenomena is eventually explained and understood strongly depends on the intellectual capacities of the spectator and his general attitude towards nature and its spectacles (a point that will be seminal for my argument further on). Plutarch first describes his own personal marvel for the cosmic spectacles nature puts on display. In an evocative fashion he quotes the following lines from Euripides: ‘You see this infinite heaven up high / surrounding earth in a damp embrace’ (TGF 941: ὁρᾷς τὸν ὑψοῦ τόνδ’ ἄπειρον αἰθέρα / καὶ γῆν πέριξ ἔχονθ’ ὑγραῖς ἐν ἀγκάλαις)16. It seems as if Plutarch for a moment cannot restrain his urge for rhetorical embellishment here (which is exceptional to the general register of Quaestiones naturales)17. An expressive couple of rhetorical questions follows to further underline the awesome sights the περιέχον puts on display. Plutarch hymnically calls out: ‘What a multitude of spectacles does it bring at night, how great is the beauty it exhibits by day!’ (ὅσα μὲν ἔρχεται φέρων θεάματα νυκτός, ὅσον

14

Pearson – Sandbach (1965) 211 translate φύσις as “human nature” here (cf. also Senzasono (2006) 121), but I prefer a more referential interpretation of the term (viz. ‘nature’ itself): this is in line with the general stylistics of Quaestiones naturales (see n. 17), and otherwise the phrasing would probably be more periphrastic (cf., e.g., Quaest. conv. 734D: αἱ φιλόσοφοι φύσεις). Schnitzer (1860) 2732 seems to combine both options in his translation (my italics): “Aber es scheint in der Natur zu liegen daß man dem Seltenen den Charakter des Wunderbaren beilegt und bei Allem was nicht oft vorkommt nach der Entstehung fragt.” The syntax of Plutarch’s phrase is complex and perhaps not without error or anacoluthon. There is room for discussion: perhaps the meaning of φύσις is somewhat zeugmatic (as is the case in Schnitzer’s translation), but if my interpretation is correct, the action comes from φύσις itself. Plutarch more often uses φύσις as the subject of a specific action (cf., e.g., Quaest. conv. 635D; 646C; 698B; 699B). It sounds more natural, then, to translate the infinitive ζητεῖν as a causativum with the ellipse of an object (‘nature incites to inquire’). Cf. also, e.g., De E 386F: θεωρίαν καὶ κρίσιν ἀνθρώπῳ μόνῳ παραδέδωκεν ἡ φύσις. 15 Even if the syntax is not very transparent, τὸ θαυμάσιον seems to equal πῶς γίνεται ζητεῖν (see further). 16 Lines also quoted in De exilio 601A and Ad princ. iner. 780D. In the third verse, which is not quoted here, the poet identifies the αἰθήρ with Zeus. 17 See Senzasono (2006) 8–18. See also more generally, Harrison (2000).

PLUTARCH SOLVING NATURAL PROBLEMS: FOR WHAT CAUSE?

135

δὲ μεθ’ ἡμέραν κάλλος ἀναδείκνυσιν;)18. However, wonder is only the beginning of (natural) philosophy for Plutarch, so a turn can be expected (see n. 11). In what follows, Plutarch, indeed, starts criticising the common people, whom he accuses of not feeling any wonder for the nature of such phenomena (οὐ μέντοι θαυμάζουσιν οἱ πολλοὶ τὴν τούτων φύσιν)19. Their attention only goes to rare phenomena such as rainbows, the variety of clouds by day, meteors bursting like bubbles, and comets … – and then the text breaks off (ἴριδες δὲ καὶ ποικίλματα νεφῶν ἡμέρας καὶ σέλα ῥηγνύμενα πομφόλυγος δίκην καὶ κομῆται ****)20. I take this to mean that the astonishment of the common people remains superficial because they do not look into the nature (φύσις), i.e. the natural causes, of marvellous natural phenomena, besides from being entirely disinterested in less spectacular phenomena21. Unlike a genuine φυσικός, the common people have no intention towards natural scientific insight, so that they do not really wonder about the nature (i.e. the natural causality) of these phenomena. I will try to demonstrate that this lack of a rational attitude is a fertile breeding ground for superstition (δεισιδαιμονία). The end of the problem is lacunary and open to conjecture. Note that a similar polysyndetic enumeration of ‘wonderful’ meteorological phenomena is found in the conclusion of De Pyth. or. 409CD (in the context of the prophetic art), where especially the ‘childish’ amazement for such phenomena is reprimanded: ‘It is a fact that children take more delight and satisfaction in seeing rainbows, haloes, and comets than in seeing moon and sun etc.’ (καὶ γὰρ οἱ παῖδες ἴριδας μᾶλλον καὶ ἅλως καὶ

18 For similar rhetorical questions and exclamations, see, e.g., Seneca, Ben. 4,23. Cf. also Ad Helv. 8,4. 19 The text is uncertain at this point. Pearson – Sandbach (1965) 210, n. 5 add οὐ μέντοι θαυμάζουσιν (following Wyttenbach). Cf. also Hubert – Pohlenz (1960) 25: οἱ πολλοὶ τὴν τούτων φύσιν . For οἱ πολλοί as a reference to the un(der)educated plebs, cf. also, e.g., Quaest. nat. 3,912D (where it is presumably used of farmers). Cf. also, e.g. Quaest. conv. 664BC (with Setaioli (2009) 440). 20 According to Pearson – Sandbach (1965) 211, n. e the ποικίλματα νεφῶν refer to the “coloration rather than shapes or patterns” of the clouds, but this is uncertain. Perhaps the reference is to aeromancy (i.e. ‘cloud gazing’). According to Ps.-Aristotle, Mu. 395b3–4, the noun σέλας denotes the lighting of a column of fire in the air, either flashing or fixed (cf. also 392b3–5 and 395a31). Seneca, QN 1,15,1–3 translates σέλας as fulgores (cf. also De fort. Rom. 323C: σέλας ἀστραπῇ παραπλήσιον). Fuhrmann (1964) 77 marks only one case of literary imagery for Quaestiones naturales, viz. “[l]es météores éclatent comme des bulles”. For the bursting of fiery bubbles, cf. also De sera num. 563F–564A. See also Seneca, QN 1,1,3. 21 For the idea that φύσις denotes natural causes, cf. Lloyd (1979) 31. As such, the notion of φύσις in this passage probably recalls πῶς γίνεται ζητεῖν (see above).

136

MICHIEL MEEUSEN

κομήτας ἢ σελήνην καὶ ἥλιον ὁρῶντες γεγήθασι καὶ ἀγαπῶσι κτλ.). A similar passage for this ‘childish’ amazement is found in Amatorius 766A (in the context of love): ‘It is like the eagerness of children to catch the rainbow in their hands, attracted by its mere appearance’ (ὥσπερ οἱ παῖδες προθυμούμενοι τὴν ἶριν ἑλεῖν τοῖν χεροῖν, ἑλκόμενοι πρὸς τὸ φαινόμενον). One can expect from these parallels that Plutarch originally concluded his invective against the common people in Quaest. nat. 29 with the same topic, namely that the ‘childish’ astonishment of the ignorant plebs for such meteorological phenomena (and hence also for similar phenomena, such as the hot springs) is motivated on irrational grounds, presumably, indeed, superstition. Note, in any case, that Plutarch’s description of δεισιδαιμονία in Per. 6,1 is closely related to this passage22: Οὐ μόνον δὲ ταῦτα τῆς Ἀναξαγόρου συνουσίας ἀπέλαυσε Περικλῆς, ἀλλὰ καὶ δεισιδαιμονίας δοκεῖ γενέσθαι καθυπέρτερος, ὅσην τὸ πρὸς τὰ μετέωρα θάμβος ἐνεργάζεται τοῖς αὐτῶν τε τούτων τὰς αἰτίας ἀγνοοῦσι καὶ περὶ τὰ θεῖα δαιμονῶσι καὶ ταραττομένοις δι᾽ ἀπειρίαν αὐτῶν, ἣν ὁ φυσικὸς λόγος ἀπαλλάττων ἀντὶ τῆς φοβερᾶς καὶ φλεγμαινούσης δεισιδαιμονίας τὴν ἀσφαλῆ μετ᾽ ἐλπίδων ἀγαθῶν εὐσέβειαν ἐργάζεται. These were not the only advantages Pericles had of his association with Anaxagoras. It appears that he was also lifted by him above superstition, that feeling which is produced by amazement at what happens in regions above us. It affects those who are ignorant of the causes of such things, and are crazed about divine intervention, and confounded through their inexperience in this domain; whereas the doctrines of natural philosophy remove such ignorance and inexperience, and substitute for timorous and inflamed superstition that unshaken reverence which is attended by a good hope. In his study of Plutarch’s view on mythology, Hardie has also referred to people’s “foolish wonder at meteorological marvels” in Quaest. nat. 29, and he correctly interprets the parallels in De Pyth. or. 409CD and Amatorius 766A in their broader Platonic context, where the ‘childish’ people do not aim to reach the ultimate intelligible truth23. In the present context of Quaest. nat. 29, however, the phrase οὐ μέντοι θαυμάζουσιν οἱ πολλοὶ τὴν τούτων φύσιν primarily implies, as we saw, that the people do not feel any wonder for the nature (i.e. the natural causes) of these

22 See also, e.g., Alex. 75,1–2; Nic. 23,1; Per. 35,2; Pel. 31,4; De sup. 168Fff. Cf. also, e.g., Seneca, QN 7,2 and DK 88 Critias B25 (esp. 27–36), with a similar enumeration of frightening phenomena ascribed to the gods. 23 Hardie (1992) 4747–4748, with n. 21 for the quote.

PLUTARCH SOLVING NATURAL PROBLEMS: FOR WHAT CAUSE?

137

phenomena. Then again, in light of Plutarch’s dualistic causality, the higher, intelligible causes are always closely related to the natural ones, and in this sense it is not unlikely that the meteorological phenomena dealt with here also have a divine motivation for Plutarch (which he perhaps mentioned in the lost part of Quaest. nat. 29)24. But even so, the central focus is clearly on natural causes in Quaestiones naturales (or in Greek: Αἰτίαι φυσικαί)25. If my conjecture is correct, Plutarch’s message seems to be that, unlike a genuine φυσικός, who would also be astonished about these rare miraculous phenomena, albeit not in the same ‘childish’ way, the plebs has no intention towards natural scientific insight, so that they do not really wonder about the actual nature (i.e. the physical causes) of these phenomena. They only focus on their ‘miraculous’ and ‘supernatural’ character without any attempt to understand them in a physiological way. A similar idea can be found at several occasions in Quaestiones convivales, especially at those places where one or more symposiasts are reprimanded because they do not look for scientific explanations of natural mirabilia but simply remain perplexed about their wondrous character (they often ascribe such phenomena to the effects of cosmic antipathy or sympathy)26. This does not mean, however, that Plutarch takes side with the sceptical ‘non-believers’ in those cases, who straightforwardly reject such popu24 A parallel can be drawn with Lys. 12, where Plutarch elaborates on the meteorite that fell in Aegospotami in 468–467 BC. Plutarch reports that this phenomenon was considered a divine portent in those days (οἱ δὲ καὶ τὴν τοῦ λίθου πτῶσιν ἐπὶ τῷ πάθει τούτῳ σημεῖόν φασι γενέσθαι), which he does not as such aim to reject, but he adds a more physiological motivation in the form of five different explanations, including popular opinions, the theories of Anaxagoras and Daimachus, and his own critical comments. 25 On the Greek title of Quaestiones naturales, see the contribution of Fabio Tanga to this volume and Meeusen (forthcoming a) Cf. also Teodorsson (1996) 183: “The causes that should be investigated are those of the physical processes which are the objects of the scientist, in contrast to the ultimate cause, the will of Providence, which lies beyond his competence.” Cf. Quaest. conv. 720E and Plato, Ti. 68e. 26 The sympathy/antipathy argument, by which a permanent interaction of every phenomenon in the cosmos (either in a positive or in a negative way) is assumed, is for Plutarch a non-explanation, or at least not a very cogent one from an aetiological perspective, probably because it remains very close to the realms of fable and superstition, and cannot, therefore, be considered an adequate physical explanation. The sympathy/antipathy argument has strong Stoic connotations: cf. Weidlich (1894) 4–11 and Soury (1949) 322–323. This explains why Plutarch at several occasions objects to it openly (for his general anti-Stoic attitude in philosophy, see Babut (1969) 22–69). The antipathy adepts are described as ‘babblers’ (θρυλοῦντες) in Quaest. conv. 641B, and in Quaest. conv. 664CD such antipathies are considered ‘idle talk’ (ἀδολεσχία). Notably, this is meant only as an invitation to search for a theory that will explain them (ἀδολεσχῶ παρακαλῶν ὑμᾶς ἐπὶ τὴν ζήτησιν τῆς αἰτίας).

138

MICHIEL MEEUSEN

lar beliefs. By contrast, the Chaeronean’s position seems to be of a more mediating kind, giving such popular beliefs the benefit of the doubt27. I have tried to show elsewhere that this cautious approach ties in closely with Plutarch’s Platonic epistemology (i.c. his Academic ἐποχή and εὐλάβεια) and his devotion towards the πάτριος πίστις28. Moreover, according to Oikonomopoulou Plutarch’s criticism in Quaest. nat. 29 “may well be a reference to the genre of paradoxography, which flourished in the period of the Empire”29. It is indeed remarkable that the genre of paradoxography generally lacks any attempt to formulate rational explanations for the natural mirabilia that it collects. Scholars argue that this genre of writing is actually preoccupied with simply listing wonder-inducing phenomena and with preserving their wondrous nature by intentionally abandoning any attempt to formulate rational explanations (in fact, most of these writings omit the explanations that had already been provided in the scientific literature from which they draw their data)30. However, if the link with the genre of paradoxography is, indeed, legitimate, it should be noted that Plutarch’s acclamation is not so much to this genre as such nor to the paradoxographical kind of natural phenomena it records, but rather to the fact that the common people (much like the paradoxographical authors) make no attempt to explain these phenomena in order to understand them in a proper physiological way. Plutarch’s vituperation of people’s short-sighted marvel for natural phenomena may then be considered an actual appeal towards a serious and ‘mature’ study of nature. Plutarch thus aims to lure the reader into an intellectual contemplation of natural causes, as it enables him to distinguish himself from the common people (οἱ πολλοί) that are unfamiliar with the finesses of such a study. In this sense, physical aetiology is a means for intellectual distinction and – more importantly – can be considered a first step towards genuine philosophy. It is a weapon against superstition and a useful instrument to attain a rational devot27 See, e.g., the discussion of the popular belief that thunder generates truffles in Quaest. conv. 664A–665A: Plutarch here actually aims to ‘save’ a traditional belief in a rational way. See also the (at some points divergent) interpretation of Setaioli (2009). 28 See Meeusen (2014). Cf. also Babut (1969) 517: “Son idéal est de trouver le juste milieu entre la crédulité naïve, qui fait prendre le moindre fait insolite pour un signe, et a vite fait de sombrer dans la superstition, et, de l’ autre côté, l’étroitesse rationaliste, qui récuse tout ce dont elle ne peut rendre compte.” 29 Oikonomopoulou (2013) 146, n. 69. She adds (in personal correspondence) that “[i]n a way, Plutarch re-claims the notion of θαῦμα from the paradoxographers”. 30 See, e.g., Schepens – Delcroix (1996) 390–394. Jacob (1983) speaks of “la fabrication du merveilleux” as a main preoccupation of the genre (see esp. 133, sub “Le privilège du fait brut. La disparition des causes”).

PLUTARCH SOLVING NATURAL PROBLEMS: FOR WHAT CAUSE?

139

edness to the gods (εὐσέβεια, being a proper means between atheism and superstition, as we learn from Plutarch’s De superstitione)31. After all, the natural causes go firmly hand in hand with the higher ones for Plutarch, whose natural scientific project is not intended as an alternative but rather as an extension for his religious outlook on the world. Ironically enough, though, with all this Plutarch does not really provide a detailed solution to the quaestio at issue about hot and cold springs (did it perhaps follow in the lost part?). He does, of course, explain in the quaestio that it is clear that heat is the reason for the hot springs and cold for the cold ones, but this requires further elaboration to be fully satisfactory32. 3. Conclusion: the purposes of Plutarch’s natural problems I conclude that solving natural problems and the search for physical aetiologies probably served two main purposes for Plutarch, and that these purposes can be connected with his dualistic view on causality. On the one hand – and this is an old tune –, the discussion of natural problems was a rhetorical exercise of the mind, suitable for πεπαιδευμένοι and their scholarly display of physiological knowledge, but on the other hand – and this is, in my opinion, really the substratum on which any argument about the goal of Plutarch’s natural problems should be based – it also provides a safe way out of the realm of superstition, by enabling a rational devotion towards the divine. Physical aetiology can thus be considered a first step towards genuine philosophy ( philosophia prima): it does not, in fact, intend to abandon the realm of mythology, let alone to tumble into plain atheism33. After all, Plutarch’s religious outlook on the world does not necessarily undermine the idea that God can work in natural scientific ways. Michiel Meeusen KU Leuven / Research Foundation – Flanders (FWO)

31

Cf. De sup. 171F: ἐν μέσῳ κειμένην τὴν εὐσέβειαν. See, e.g., Flacelière – Irigoin – Sirinelli – Philippon (1987) clxii: “Mais sa foi, certes, n’était pas celle du charbonnier; elle était raisonnée, réfléchie, “éclairée” comme il sied à un philosophe fermement convaincu du primat de la raison.” See also Ana Ferreira’s contribution to this volume (n. 13). 32 Cf. also Schnitzer (1860) 2732, n. 2: “Die Erklärung der Ursache fehlt, wenn sie nicht darin liegt daß das Seltene als das Wunderbare gelte.” 33 On the incorporation of mythological accounts in Plutarch’s natural problems and their interest in the context of physical aetiology (in the sense that they may hint at a higher type of causality), see Meeusen (2013).

140

MICHIEL MEEUSEN

Bibliography Babut, D. (1969), Plutarque et le Stoïcisme, Paris. Id. (1994), “Du scepticisme au dépassement de la raison: philosophie et foi religieuse chez Plutarque”, in Id. (ed.), Parerga: choix d’ articles de Daniel Babut (1974–1994), Lyon, 549–581. Boulogne, J. (2008), “Les digressions scientifiques dans les Vies de Plutarque”, in Nikolaidis, A.G., The Unity of Plutarch’s Work: ‘Moralia’ Themes in the ‘Lives’, Features of the ‘Lives’ in the ‘Moralia’, Berlin, 733–749. Croiset, A.-M. (1899), Histoire de la littérature grecque, V: Période alexandrine; période romaine, Paris. Desideri, P. (1992), “Scienza nelle Vite di Plutarco”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 73–89. Donini, P. (1986), “Lo scetticismo academico. Aristotele e l’unità della tradizione platonica secondo Plutarco”, in Cambiano, G. (ed.), Storiografia e dossografia nella filosofia antica, Torino, 203–226. Id. (1992), “I fondamenti della fisica e la teoria delle cause in Plutarco”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 99–120. Flacelière, R. – Irigoin, J. – Sirinelli, J. – Philippon, A. (1987), Plutarque. Œuvres morales, tome I, 1 (Introduction générale – De l’éducation des enfants – Comment lire les poètes), Paris (CUF). Flashar, H. (1962), Aristoteles. Problemata physica, Berlin. Fuhrmann, F. (1964), Les images de Plutarque, Paris. Id. (1972), Plutarque. Œuvres morales, tome IX, 1 (Propos de table), Paris (CUF). Görgemanns, H. (1968), Das Mondgesicht, Zürich. Id. (1970), Untersuchungen zu Plutarchs Dialog De facie in orbe lunae, Heidelberg. Hardie, P.R. (1992), “Plutarch and the interpretation of myth”, ANRW II, 33, 6, Berlin – New York, 4743–4787. Harrison, G.W.M. (2000), “Tipping his Hand: Plutarch’s Preferences in the Quaestiones Naturales”, in Van der Stockt, L. (ed.), Rhetorical Theory and Praxis in Plutarch. Acta of the Ivth International Congress of the International Plutarch Society, Leuven, July 3–6, 1996, Leuven, 237–250. Hubert, C. – Pohlenz, M. (1960), Plutarchi Moralia, vol. V, fasc. 3, recensuerunt et emendaverunt C. Hubert et M. Pohlenz, editio altera addenda adiecit H. Drexler, Lipsiae, (BT). Jacob, C. (1983), “De l’ art de compiler à la fabrication du merveilleux. Sur la paradoxographie grecque”, Lalies 2, 121–140.

PLUTARCH SOLVING NATURAL PROBLEMS: FOR WHAT CAUSE?

141

Kechagia, E. (2011), “Philosophy in Plutarch’s Table Talk. In Jest or in Earnest?”, in Klotz, F. – Oikonomopoulou, K. (eds.), The Philosopher’s Banquet. Plutarch’s Table Talk in the Intellectual Culture of the Roman Empire, Oxford, 77–104. Klotz, F. – Oikonomopoulou, K. (eds.) (2011), The Philosopher’s Banquet. Plutarch’s Table Talk in the Intellectual Culture of the Roman Empire, Oxford. König, J. (2007), “Fragmentation and coherence in Plutarch’s Sympotic Questions”, in König, J. – Whitmarsh, T. (eds.), Ordering Knowledge in the Roman Empire, Cambridge, 43–68. Levi, P. (1985), The Pelican History of Greek Literature, Harmondsworth. Lloyd, G.E.R. (1979), Magic, Reason and Experience: Studies in the Origin and Development of Greek Science, Cambridge. Longo, O. (1992), “La teoria Plutarchea del primum frigidum”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo (Genova-Bocca di magra, 22–25 aprile 1991), Genova, 225–230. Meeusen, M. (2012a), “Matching in Mind the Sea Beast’s Complexion. On the Pragmatics of Plutarch’s Hypomnemata and Scientific Innovation: the Case of Q.N. 19 (916BF)”, Philologus 156, 234–259. Id. (2012b), “Salt in the Holy Water: Plutarch’s Quaestiones Naturales in Michael Psellus’ De omnifaria doctrina”, in Roig Lanzillotta, L. – Muñoz Gallarte, I. (eds.), Plutarch in the Religious and Philosophical Discourse of Late Antiquity, Leiden – Boston, 101–121. Id. (2013), “How to Treat a Bee-Sting? On the Higher Cause in Plutarch’s Causes of Natural Phenomena: the Case of Q.N. 35–36”, QUCC 105, 131–157. Id. (2014), “Plutarch and the Wonder of Nature. Preliminaries to Plutarch’s Science of Physical Problems”, Apeiron 47, 310–341. Id. (forthcoming a), Plutarch’s Science of Natural Problems: A Study with Commentary of Quaestiones Naturales, Leuven. Id. (forthcoming b), “Aristotle’s Authority in the Tradition of Natural Problems. The Case of Plutarch of Chaeronea” (forthcoming in the proceeding of the LECTIO conference on ‘Shaping Authority’, Leuven, 5–6 December, 2013). Oikonomopoulou, K. (2011), “Peripatetic Knowledge in Plutarch’s Table Talk”, in Klotz, F. – Oikonomopoulou, K. (eds.), The Philosopher’s Banquet. Plutarch’s Table Talk in the Intellectual Culture of the Roman Empire, Oxford, 105–130. Id. (2013), “Plutarch’s corpus of quaestiones in the tradition of imperial Greek encyclopaedism”, in König, J. – Woolf, G. (eds.), Encyclopaedism from Antiquity to the Renaissance, Cambridge, 129–153. Opsomer, J. (1998), In Search of the Truth, Academic Tendencies in Middle Platonism, Brussel. Pearson, L. – Sandbach, F.H. (1965), Plutarch’s Moralia, vol. XI (On the malice of Herodotus – Causes of natural phenomena), Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL).

142

MICHIEL MEEUSEN

Roskam, G. (2005), On the Path to Virtue. The Stoic Doctrine of Moral Progress and its Reception in (Middle-)Platonism, Leuven. Sarton, G. (1965), A History of Science: Hellenistic Science and Culture in the Last Three Centuries B.C., New York. Schepens, G. – Delcroix, K. (1996), “Ancient Paradoxography: Origin, Evolution, Production, and Reception”, in Pecere, O. – Stramaglia, A. (eds.), La Letteratura di Consumo nel Mondo Greco-Latino, Cassino, 375–460. Schnitzer, C.F. (1860), Plutarch’s Werke. Moralische Schriften, vol. 22, Stuttgart. Senzasono, L. (2006), Plutarco. Cause dei fenomeni naturali. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi moralium 42). Setaioli, A. (2009), “Truffles and thunderbolts (Plu., Quaest. conv. 4.2, 1–2)”, in Ferreira, J.R. – Leão, D. – Tröster, M. – Barata Dias, P. (eds.), Symposium and Philantropia in Plutarch, Coimbra, 439–446. Soury, G. (1949), “Les “Questions de table” et la philosophie religieuse de Plutarque”, REG 62, 320–327. Teodorsson, S.-T. (1989), A commentary on Plutarch’s Table Talks, vol. 1, Göteborg. Id. (1996), A commentary on Plutarch’s Table Talks, vol. 3, Göteborg. Id. (1999), “Plutarch and Peripatetic Science”, in Pérez Jiménez, A. – Garciá López, J. – Aguilar, R.M. (eds.), Plutarco, Platón y Aristóteles. Actas del V Congreso Internacional de la I.P.S. (Madrid – Cuenca, 4–7 de Mayo de 1999), Madrid, 665–674. Vamvouri Ruffy, M. (2012), Les Vertus thérapeutiques du banquet: Médecine et idéologie dans les Propos de Table de Plutarque, Paris. Van der Stockt, L. (2011), “Some aspects of Plutarch’s view of the physical world. Interpreting Causes of Natural Phenomena”, in Candau Morón, J. – González Ponce, F. – Chávez Reino, A. (eds.), Plutarco transmisor. Actas del X simposio internacional de la sociedad española de Plutarquistas (Sevilla, 12–14 de nov. de 2009), Sevilla, 447–455. Weidlich, T. (1894), Die Sympathie in der antiken Literatur, Stuttgart.

III. MAN’S PLACE IN THE COSMOS

The Light of the Moon: An Active Participant on the Battlefield in Plutarch’s Parallel Lives LUISA LESAGE GÁRRIGA

1. Introduction The power of the moon in Plutarch’s works is undeniable. It is easy to find its presence in many of his treatises, and it would actually be easier to list the works in which the moon is not mentioned than those in which at least some mention is made. Moreover, it is not only a recurring topic in his treatises but also the main topic of one of them: De facie quae in orbe lunae apparet. In this work, Plutarch gathers the two leading tendencies of Greek thought regarding the celestial body: popular beliefs, primarily based on cosmic sympathy, and rational explanations provided by astronomy. The moon’s influence on humanity has been a constant in many cultures. Its phases, for example, interpreted as birth, death and resurrection, have been used by human beings to interpret the cosmos and as a conscious explanation of their role in it1. According to this understanding, the universe works just as human life does, but on a larger scale, and each of its parts can affect humankind. The influence of the moon, specifically, can either be beneficial or disastrous: beneficial in labours, as we may see in Quaest. conv. 3,10,658F–659A2; disastrous, for example, as was shown in the Life of Caesar (63,8), when its powerful light foretells an approaching misfortune – the death of the dictator. People in the ancient world thought that the real and physical influence of the moon over the earth was intertwined with the influence (imaginary, of course) it had over their own lives. Moreover, in the same way that the moon was able to determine some of the phenomena on earth and people’s lives, so humanity was able to influence the moon. It was a mutual relationship in which, from the ancients’ point of view, both sides had some power over the other. This can be inferred from the 1 2

Cf. Préaux (1970) 10. See Aldo Setaioli’s contribution to this volume.

146

LUISA LESAGE GÁRRIGA

well-known anecdote about the Thessalian women, considered to be experts in astrology, who claimed to be able to make the moon descend whenever they wanted3. A more plausible scenario which we will consider below is that humanity has no power over the moon, but can nevertheless use it to make the most of a situation – in this case, situations bounded by the context of war. Of all the attributes that were applied to the moon throughout Antiquity – such as being fertile, cold, wet and feminine – we are going to focus on its characteristic brightness: that faint and soft glow that comes towards us as a reflection of the sun’s light, as Plutarch correctly affirms in De facie4, a light that becomes the natural torch of the night and is widely used as a literary artifice by many authors, including Plutarch himself5. 2. Lack of moonlight Perhaps the first thought that comes to mind when considering this brightness is precisely what happens when it is lacking: when the moon darkens and disappears before the generally terrified eyes of human beings facing an eclipse. We will not discuss here what Plutarch thought about the irrational fear that such an event creates in human beings, as it has already been investigated by many scholars6, but it will be interesting to investigate in more detail the way in which some historical military figures responded in these situations. It was a common thing for ordinary people to fear the darkening of either the moon or the sun, as was also the case with the soldiers of Aemilius Paulus and Dion (Aem. 17,8; Dion 24,2), as well as Pericles’ helmsman (Per. 35,2) and the troops and citizens referred to in the Life of Pelopidas (31,4). However, it is more unlikely to find a general who ignores or does not wish to pay heed to the natural causes of an eclipse – especially if, from Plutarch’s point of view, we are dealing with a coherent, rational and cautious character. All of the military figures mentioned above remained calm and made military decisions with proper deliberation, attempting above all to overcome the fear in their troops.

3

An anecdote that Plutarch himself used in De Pyth. or. 400B and in De def. or. 416F, and criticized in Con. praec. 145C in an attempt to discredit astrology and superstitious beliefs. 4 De facie 929DE. On the problem that the explanation of this reflection caused, see 936C–937A. 5 He mentions a few verses from Sophocles related to the changeable appearance of the moon in Quaest. Rom. 282B, De cur. 517D and Demetr. 45,2. We can also find some other literary references to the moon (such as comparisons and anecdotes) in Con. praec. 139C and in Sept. sap. conv. 157B. 6 See, e.g., Flacelière (1951); Brenk (1977).

THE LIGHT OF THE MOON

147

Pelopidas, for example, was aware that people might be afraid of an eclipse, so decided to fight Alexander on the battlefield with only a few volunteers. Using a practical example, Pericles demonstrated to his helmsman that an eclipse was a natural phenomenon and that there was no need to fear an approaching disaster. Dion’s behaviour could be considered to lie halfway between the two previous examples: he does not attempt to explain the rational cause of an eclipse to those who fear it irrationally, but he does attempt to calm them down using a simple strategy. He finds a fortune teller who, without ridding them of their superstitious beliefs, provides a favourable explanation of the eclipse. According to this fortune teller, the eclipse was a portent of the end of some entity that had been shining with strength for a long period, which was interpreted to mean the end of the reign of Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse. Along with these responses we also find some other, less exemplary forms, such as that of Aemilius Paulus. The combination of scientific reasoning and religious dread apparent in his behaviour has led some scholars to imply an element of incoherence in Plutarch’s ideology. Nonetheless, we agree with Brenk’s explanation that Plutarch, because of the literary genre he was using (the biography), was primarily interested in emphasizing the dramatic quality of his story7. That is to say, he made dramatic use of the scientific facts in order to better describe the psychology of his character. Despite these opinions, it seems plausible that Aemilius Paulus was simply a little frightened by the phenomenon. According to Plutarch, while Aemilius Paulus was supposed to know about the natural causes of an eclipse, he also sacrificed eleven bull calves to the moon because “he was very devout and given to sacrifices and divination”8. In any case, and just like his fellow military leaders, Aemilius Paulus carried out his battle plans when the time came. Whether they are victorious in the battlefield or not, Plutarch does not connect their defeats – for example, those of Pericles and Pelopidas – with the decision to act despite the appearance of an eclipse. He will not be so indulgent when, as reported in the Life of Nicias, the general is driven by fear rather than reason. In this biography we find one of the rare accounts of a military figure paralysed by the fear created by an eclipse, and Plutarch will see in this response itself – or should we say the lack of response – the explanation for the defeat and doom of Nicias. Our author dedicates a large passage to the onset of the eclipse (Nic. 23) and uses it to explain the cause of the meteorological phenomenon. This is also done in passages in other Lives (Aem. 17; Dion 24); on this

7 8

Brenk (1977) 48. Perrin (1970) 401.

148

LUISA LESAGE GÁRRIGA

particular occasion, however, Plutarch does not attempt to demonstrate the character’s knowledge of the fact, but to condemn his attitude, saying that it is “a great terror to Nicias and all those who were ignorant or superstitious enough to quake at such a sight”9. Furthermore, Plutarch has no hesitation in contrasting Nicias’ behaviour with that of Dion when the latter was also confronted by an eclipse: as we saw above, he praises the mettle of the latter and despises the indecision of the former. 3. The moon as a tactical resource The fear caused by the darkening of the moon, which was supposed to light up the night with its faint glow, was commonly shared by ancient Greeks and Romans. It seems natural then, that this emotion could have influenced military manoeuvres. However, there is a vast difference between the superstitious belief that the moon can affect us for better or for worse, and the conscious exploitation of its natural attributes; in other words, the use of moonlight by different military figures, in various situations, for their own advantage. As we know, many battles took place in the light of a full moon10, most likely to profit from its bright light. In other phases − depending on its position in the sky and in relation to the soldiers on the battlefield − it can also be extremely useful. In Pomp. 32, Plutarch states that the older officers, after observing the surrounding area and the sky, urged Pompey to attack before the end of the night because “it was not wholly dark, but the moon, which was setting, made it still possible to distinguish persons clearly enough”11. Due to this quick intervention, they were able to take advantage of the moon’s position behind their backs, and by projecting their shadows over the enemy, the latter was unable to calculate the real distance between them and so threw their spears too early, pointlessly. Nicias and Demosthenes would not be so lucky. Although they had the moon behind their backs, as had Pompey, they were defeated. According to Plutarch, Nicias, cautious and indecisive as he was, did not want to attack the Sicilians in any hurry, but Demosthenes urged him to act. On a night that “was one which afforded neither absolute darkness nor a steady light”12, a disorderly and chaotic battle took place: a battle in which, so it seems, no one knew who was enemy or ally. The moonlight contributed to this situation because it projected the shadows ahead of the soldiers in such a way that it concealed their weapons and made them appear

9 10 11 12

Perrin (1967) 289. Plutarch mentions a few of them: see Cam. 19,1 and 19,6; Arat. 21,2. Perrin (1961) 199–201. Perrin (1967) 285.

THE LIGHT OF THE MOON

149

less in number. Meanwhile, it shone directly onto the enemies’ weapons, making them glow and giving the impression that they were in greater number. It seems that Nicias was not supposed to defeat the Sicilians, either with the assistance of the moonlight or without it. While we cannot assert whether the defeat was caused by his bad luck or because he did not take advantage of the position of the moon in the battle as enjoyed by Pompey, we can state that his paralysis during the eclipse while preparing his retreat was a costly tactical mistake. Plutarch asserts as much at the end of the passage, following Philochorus: “For indeed the sign from Heaven, as Philochorus observed, was not an obnoxious one to fugitives, but rather very propitious; concealment is just what deeds of fear need, whereas light is an enemy to them”13. With this statement the author shows that not only the light of the moon but also the lack of it may be favourable on the battlefield. Nicias, in a clear act of cowardice, lost the great opportunity offered to him by the eclipse of the moon. Another character can be found in a similar situation of not taking advantage of the darkness offered by the moon. However, if we analyse the passage, it is clear that in this case we are dealing with a brave and honourable act. We are talking here about Alexander and the episode in which some of his soldiers urged him to attack Darius “by night, and so to cover up with darkness the most fearful aspect of the coming struggle”14. He refused, saying he would not steal the victory. With this statement he meant that he would attack his opponent in broad daylight, so the victory would be absolute and Darius would not be able to claim that the darkness of the night had been his undoing. 4. A peculiar scenario: Arat. 21–22 The help that the moon offers, with its casting of shadow, always remains a possibility, but no one, as far as we know, has profited from it. Let us now see how Aratus acted. In chapter 21,2 of his Life, this military leader and his soldiers were preparing an ambush, afraid of being discovered because of a bright and cloudless night. Luckily for them, as Plutarch narrates, “clouds ran up from the sea and enveloped the city itself and the region outside, which thus became dark”15. When a party of several men showed up, “they were not seen by them, being still in the shade of the moon, but saw them coming up in the opposite direction”16. Making the most of this resource, they managed to attack them.

13 14 15 16

Perrin (1967) 293. Perrin (1971) 319. Perrin (1975) 47. Ibid. 47.

150

LUISA LESAGE GÁRRIGA

In fact, this celestial body puts many resources at our disposal, as we find that Aratus not only profits from the shadows it casts, but also from its light. That very same night, the sky was darkened by clouds and the general became lost while approaching the city he intended to attack. Implying that the moon then actually acted on his character’s behalf, Plutarch says: “Then, marvellous to relate, the moon is said to have parted the clouds and shone out, making the most difficult part of the road plain”17. Plutarch closes this passage with one more example of gaining advantage from the moonlight (22,8): finally, when they entered into battle, with the rest of Aratus’ army on its way to help, the clouds disappeared and the brightness of the moon, reflected on their shields, made them look greater in number than they actually were. While we find several cases in which the natural means that are available for a military leader to develop a strategy – in our case the moonlight – are used or disregarded, Aratus’ example is particularly interesting. Plutarch does not confine himself to narrating the way that this character uses or does not use the light, but he rather has a clear literary intention. In chapters 21 and 22 he mentions the moon’s resource of illumination – to the benefit of the military action of his character – up to four times. Let us take a look at these passages (we use, along with the Greek text, Perrin’s English translation)18: 21,2: ἦν δὲ τοῦ ἔτους ἡ περὶ θέρος ἀκμάζον ὥρα, τοῦ δὲ μηνὸς πανσέληνος, ἡ δὲ νὺξ ἀνέφελος καὶ καταφανής, ὥστε καὶ φόβον τὰ ὅπλα παρέχειν ἀντιλάμποντα πρὸς τὴν σελήνην, μὴ τοὺς φύλακας οὐ λάθωσιν. ἤδη δὲ τῶν πρώτων ἐγγὺς ὄντων, ἀπὸ θαλάσσης ἀνέδραμε νέφη καὶ κατέσχε τήν τε πόλιν αὐτὴν καὶ τὸν ἔξω τόπον ἐπίσκιον γενόμενον. It was midsummer, the moon was at its full, and the night was cloudless and clear, so that they feared lest the gleam of their arms in the moonlight should disclose them to the sentinels. But just as the foremost of them were near the wall, clouds ran up from the sea and enveloped the city itself and the region outside, which thus became dark. 21,5: καί πως ἔτι πρόσωθεν αὐτοῖς ἀπήντα σὺν φωτὶ φυλακὴ τεσσάρων ἀνδρῶν οὐ καθορωμένοις· ἔτι γὰρ ἦσαν ἐν τῷ σκιαζομένῳ τῆς σελήνης, ἐκείνους δὲ προσιόντας ἐξ ἐναντίας καθορῶσι. μικρὸν οὖν ὑποστείλας τειχίοις τισὶ καὶ οἰκοπέδοις, ἐνέδραν ἐπὶ τοὺς ἄνδρας καθίζει· 17 18

Ibid. 49. Ibid. 47–51.

THE LIGHT OF THE MOON

151

A little further on they encountered a watch of four men with a light; they were not seen by them, being still in the shade of the moon, but saw them coming up in the opposite direction. So they drew back a little for shelter beneath some walls and buildings, and set an ambush for them. 22,2: εἶτα θαυμάσιον οἷον ἡ σελήνη λέγεται διαστέλλουσα τὰ νέφη καὶ ὑπολάμπουσα τῆς ὁδοῦ τὸ χαλεπώτατον σαφηνίζειν, ἕως ἥψατο τοῦ τείχους καθ’ ὃν ἔδει τόπον· ἐκεῖ δὲ πάλιν συνεσκίασε καὶ ἀπέκρυψε νεφῶν συνελθόντων. Then, marvellous to relate, the moon is said to have parted the clouds and shone out, making the most difficult part of the road plain, until he got to the wall at the spot desired; there the clouds came together again and everything was hidden in darkness. 22,8: οἱ δ’ εὐθὺς ἐκέλευον ἡγεῖσθαι, καὶ προσβαίνοντες ἅμα φωνῇ διεσήμαινον ἑαυτούς, ἐπιθαρρύνοντες τοὺς φίλους· ἥ τε πανσέληνος ἀπέφαινε τὰ ὅπλα πλείονα φαινόμενα τοῖς πολεμίοις διὰ τὸ μῆκος τῆς πορείας, καὶ τὸ τῆς νυκτὸς ἠχῶδες τὸν ἀλαλαγμὸν ἀπὸ πολλαπλασιόνων ἢ τοσούτων ἐποίει δοκεῖν φέρεσθαι. The three hundred at once ordered him to lead the way; and as they took to the ascent their cries signalled their coming and encouraged their friends; the light of the full moon also made their arms appear more numerous to the enemy than they really were, owing to the length of their line of march, and the echoes of the night gave the impression that the shouts proceeded from many times the number of men there really were. If we study these four passages thoroughly, we find an adept use of alliteration and recurrent structures that oppose light and darkness. In 21,2, when the soldiers need darkness and fear that the full moon will ruin their plan, we see a recurring use of the sounds ‘π, φ, ς’, all of them associated with words whose semantics are linked to brightness: πανσέληνος, ἀνέφελος, καταφανής, ἀντιλάμπουσα, σελήνην. Moreover, when the desperately awaited clouds appear and cover the moon, Plutarch retains the same sonority, only this time referring to this beneficial shadow: νέφη, ἐπίσκιον. In the next passage (21,5), where the shadow in which the soldiers are hiding is opposed to the light that brightens the scouting party whom they come across, we observe an antithetical structure. The first part begins with a reference to the light (φωτὶ φυλακή) and ends with the verb ‘to see’ in a negative form (οὐ καθορωμένοις), while the second part starts with a reference to the shadow (ἐν τῷ σκιαζομένῳ τῆς σελήνης) and ends with the same verb as the first part, but in a positive form (καθορῶσι).

152

LUISA LESAGE GÁRRIGA

Plutarch starts the third passage (22,2) by subtly indicating how unrealistic this sequence seems to be, for the clouds are going to move aside and guide Aratus on his way before sinking the night into deep darkness again: θαυμάσιον […] λέγεται. Once again, Plutarch uses alliteration of the sounds ‘π, φ, σ’: the first part is full of references to the light which had recently appeared (σελήνη, ὑπολάμπουσα, σαφηνίζειν), while the following part contains words related to darkness (συνεσκίασε, ἀπέκρυψε, νεφῶν). In the final passage, Plutarch adds a new natural element that will help Aratus and his soldiers: the noise. Playing with the same phonemes that we have already seen within these two chapters – and some new ones, such as ‘λ’ and ‘α’ − he creates a perfect ending, full of light and sound, in the battle scene. First, φωνή appears, a resounding signal that tells Aratus’ soldiers that their colleagues are coming to help. Then the light comes, right in the middle of the scene, illuminating their shields, as we have seen in passages in other Lives (πανσέληνος ἀπέφαινε τὰ ὅπλα πλείονα φαινόμενα), and it closes with a new reference to the sound (καὶ τὸ τῆς νυκτὸς ἠχῶδες τὸν ἀλαλαγμὸν ἀπὸ πολλαπλασιόνων ἢ τοσούτων ἐποίει δοκεῖν φέρεσθαι). We notice, therefore, that the resource of the moonlight that is used by these military figures is not only a real fact, but also works as a literary resource for Plutarch, an artifice with which he highlights the general’s good luck during the campaign. Although he uses vocabulary and structures similar to those observed in other Lives, in this specific case Plutarch takes much more care in the distribution of the ideas, the sonority and the semantic nature of the words, seeking to have an impact on the readers, making them recall earlier passages, and emphasizing the difference between them. Luisa Lesage Gárriga Universidad de Málaga Bibliography Brenk, F.E. (1977), In mist apparelled. Religious themes in Plutarch’s Moralia and Lives, Leiden. Derchain, Ph. et al. (1962), La lune, mythes et rites, Paris. Flacelière, R. (1951), “Plutarque et les éclipses de la lune”, REG 53, 203–221. Lloyd, G.E.R. (1964), “The Hot and the Cold, the Dry and the Wet in Greek Philosophy”, JHS 84, 92–107. Pérez Jiménez, A. (1991), “Plutarco y el Paisaje Lunar”, in García López, J. – Calderón, E. (eds.), Estudios sobre Plutarco: paisaje y naturaleza. Actas del II Simposio Español sobre Plutarco, Madrid, 307–317. Perrin, B. (1961), Plutarch’s Lives, vol. V, Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL).

THE LIGHT OF THE MOON

153

Perrin, B. (1967), Plutarch’s Lives, III, Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Perrin, B. (1970), Plutarch’s Lives, VI, Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Perrin, B. (1971), Plutarch’s Lives, VII, Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Perrin, B. (1975), Plutarch’s Lives, XI, Cambridge, Mass. – London (LCL). Préaux, C. (1970), La lune dans la pensée grecque, Académie royale de Belgique, Brussels.

The Power of Nature and Its Influence on Statesmen in the Work of Plutarch ANA FERREIRA In Plutarch’s Parallel Lives (Vitae Parallelae), references to nature are normally brief and bereft of any authorial comment, as befits a biographical text. When the theme does appear, it plays a minor role, generally related to the influence of the elements upon statesmen. However, because of the biographical and didactic purposes of the text, there are several small scientific digressions in it, which not only serve to explain natural phenomena but also to criticize the superstitions that arise when they are not properly understood – though Plutarch was clearly aware that a biography was not the most appropriate context for this type of reflection and so kept them to a minimum (cf. Lys. 12,9): Ταῦτα μὲν οὖν ἑτέρῳ γένει γραφῆς διακριβωτέον. But these matters should undoubtedly be considered in more depth in other types of work. This article looks at some of the questions that arise when we consider how a politician may be conditioned by nature. Firstly, it analyses the categories of phenomena that most influence the actions and decisions of statesmen in the Vitae, and then reflects upon the type of influence exerted (whether actions are furthered or hindered by them) and upon their area of operation (i.e. if they affect mostly political acts, in the narrow sense, or also military ones). It also tries to understand Plutarch’s attitude towards the traditional superstitions that interpret these occurrences as portentous. The natural events that appear most frequently in the Lives in association with the decisions and actions of statesmen may be categorised into three different groups. These are (in order of frequency): 1) meteorological, astronomical1 and geological phenomena (i.e. those responsible for fire, sound, and the light/darkness dichotomy); 2) living things (animals and plants); and 3) water (represented by seas, rivers and lakes). 1

This work will explore only the meteorological and astronomical phenomena. The others will be dealt with elsewhere.

156

ANA FERREIRA

Despite the diversity of the phenomena mentioned, most affect decisions taken in the context of war. As a rule, inanimate phenomena either aid or oppose the actions of the army that the hero commands, while animate ones (i.e. those involving the intervention of living things) tend to affect the conduct of the hero as governor. Let us begin with the meteorological phenomena. Most of these cases concern situations in which nature is on the side of the protagonists or their co-citizens and helps them succeed in what they are trying to do. One of the most commonly mentioned phenomena is the storm (χειμών) and things associated with it: wind (the ‘north wind’, ἀπαρκτία: Dion 25,6; ‘wind’, πνεῦμα: Pel. 9,2; Crass. 19,4), mist (ὁμίχλη: Flam. 4,11; 8,1; ζόφος, ‘darkness’: Alc. 28,4), rain (ὄμβρος: Dion 25,6), snow (νιφετός, ‘the snow that falls’: Pel. 9,2; κρύος, ‘cold’: Luc. 11,4), lightning (ἀστραπαί: Dion 25,6) and thunder (βρονταί: Dion 25,6; Crass. 19,4). In general, the strategist’s courage enables him to overcome this adversity2, fulfil his plans and vanquish the enemy, who, for his part, is unable to withstand the weather. This is the case of Lucullus (Luc. 11,4), who defeats Mithridates, who is surprised by a violent storm (Luc. 13,2). There are other occasions when an unexpected storm seems specifically to assist the hero, as Plutarch openly suggests in Alc. 28,43 (through the words ἔτυχε and συνεργῆσαι) and Pel. 9,2. In these two situations, Alcibiades and Pelopidas need to hide their approach (to Cyzicus and Thebes, respectively) and are aided by the darkness caused by the storm, and also (in the case of Pelopidas) by the fear of the people, who take refuge at home4. Similarly, in the case of Dion (Dion 25,4–13), the hero ultimately arrives at a friendly port, despite having been blown off course by the storm. However, there are also passages in which storms appear as bad omens, although this is downplayed by the heroes and even the people (who are usually quite superstitious). In Dion 38,1 (political context), a storm arises unexpectedly in the middle of summer and lasts for fifteen days, preventing the election of new strategists in Syracuse due to superstition5. Similarly, in Cic. 14,46, Cicero himself delays the elections 2

Although some soldiers could not stand the cold and deserted. The Romans, unlike the Cimbri, had difficulties resisting the cold, v. infra note 8. 3 Cf. Xen., HG 1,1,16. 4 Luc. 9,1: Mithridates takes advantage of the dark rainy night to place his troops at the gates of Cyzicus before sunrise. 5 The biographer uses words like ‘ἐξαίσιοι βρονταὶ καὶ διοσημίαι πονηραὶ ὑπὸ δεισιδαιμονίας’, which reinforces the idea of superstition and the association of thunder to Zeus and bad omens. In the following lines, other portents are mentioned which the Syracusans play down. 6 Cf. Cic., Catil. 3,8.

THE POWER OF NATURE AND ITS INFLUENCE ON STATESMEN

157

for the consulate on the occasion of the Catilinarian conspiracy, because of thunder, earthquakes and portentous events. In the context of war, there is a storm in Zeugma when Crassus crosses the river with his army (Crass. 19,4), followed by other ominous signs that bring negative consequences: a bridge is destroyed; the planned camp spot is struck by lightning (twice, according to Plutarch) and a horse falls into the river. Before moving on to other natural phenomena, let us look more closely at the effect of the wind, which plays an important role in various circumstances, not always connected to storms. In Cam. 34,3, it is the wind, blowing violently in the mountains, that helps Camillus to reach the enemy camp with his incendiary projectiles. In Cic. 32,3, the wind (which is constantly changing intensity during the journey to Dyrrhachium), along with the tsunami and earthquake which follow, presages change and the end of the exile of the homo nouus, according to the seers. On several occasions Plutarch intensifies the image of the force of the wind at moments of torment. He also highlights its influence on the hero’s action by contrasting the sudden tumult with the previous calm. That is what happens to Marius, for example, proscribed and on his way to Libya (Mar. 36). In this passage, the biographer describes, without adding comments of his own, how the wind, which had previously been in Marius’ favour (πνεῦμα φορόν), suddenly changes direction and intensity (πνεῦμα εἰς πελάγιον μεθισταμένον), blowing him off course and stirring up rough seas which make him feel unwell. Marius must surely have felt that even nature and the gods were against him at this point, as he was forced to land (still on Roman territory), disembark and live as a fugitive for some time. In any case, the fact of having overcome these difficulties ultimately serves to confirm his courage and capacity to resist hardship and confront adversity. The wind also plays an important role in Sull. 27,15, when a breeze (αὔρα) blows in from a nearby plain, covering the Roman soldiers’ helmets and shields with flowers, which suggests, even to their enemies, that they have been crowned victors. The portent encourages the Romans who intensify their efforts and end up victorious. Another of the natural elements most mentioned in the Lives is light (or its absence) from the sun, moon and stars. In Mar. 26,6, the sun’s light and heat are presented as allies of the Roman army. First, the enemy soldiers are dazzled by the sun7 and unable to see properly, which leads them to believe that they are fighting against a much bigger army. Then the

7

Knowing of this, Aemilius Paulus (Aem. 17,13) waits for the sun to be in a convenient position so that his men will not have to fight with it in their eyes.

158

ANA FERREIRA

Cimbri are overcome by the heat8, and unable to stand up to the Romans. Although not stated explicitly, these circumstances are presented as a kind of compensation (or revenge from Nature) for the situation described in Mar. 23,2–3, which caused the Roman army to withdraw. In that passage, when the two armies came face to face in winter in the Alps, the Cimbri flaunted their indifference to the cold and the snow, which did not appear to cause them any great discomfort. Yet, when the situation inverts and becomes favourable to the Romans, they did not gloat, because they themselves were not indifferent to the excessive heat. In fact, Plutarch takes advantage of this occasion to show the Romans’ capacity to struggle and resist fatigue, which made them able to withstand the heat “without sweating or panting” (Mar. 26,6). There are, however, other situations in which nature seems to oppose the aims of the strategists, as if it were an instrument of divine vengeance. This is what happens, for example, to Marius (Mar. 26,5), according to the tradition that Plutarch attributes to Sulla, when he claimed the glory for the victory over the Cimbri, underestimating Catullus’ contribution to the success. In full daylight, a great dust cloud forms (κονιορτοῦ ἀρθέντος οἷον εἰκὸς ἀπλέτου), which hides the two armies. This sudden event means that Marius moves away from the enemy over the plain and ends up playing a less important role in the victory than he wanted. The dazzling glare mentioned earlier, which, in the biography of Marius, is caused by the sun and is favourable to the Romans, can also be caused by the moonlight, with negative consequences for the hero’s army. This is what happens in Nic. 21,8–10 and Arat. 21,1–29. In the first case, Plutarch describes a somewhat confused battle in which the victorious Athenians fall upon each other, believing that they are attacking the enemy in retreat. This confusion is due to the quality of the light, because, while the night is not completely dark (σκότος ἄκρατον), it had an ‘indecisive light’ (μήτε φῶς βέβαιον), something that the author considers normal when the moon is waning (καταφερομένης σελήνης). This brief observation is important as it suggests he feels the need to present this fluctuating light as natural in a context in which he is reflecting upon fear and ignorance (μετὰ φόβου καὶ ἀγνοίας), which results – he claims on another occasion (Per. 6,1) – from a lack of knowledge about the functioning of nature. The problems caused by the waning moon are compounded by the shadow produced by the multitude of men and arms, and exacerbated by the position of the Athenian army, which had its back to the moon. And, as if this were not enough, the moonlight reflecting off the enemy 8

Mar. 23,3–4; 26,8: Plutarch stressed that the Cimbri are used to cold and snow. For a more detailed analysis of this event, see the contribution of Luisa Lesage Gárriga to this volume. 9

THE POWER OF NATURE AND ITS INFLUENCE ON STATESMEN

159

shields made them seem more numerous and imposing than they really were (a similar effect is produced in Arat. 22,8, jeopardizing the enemy’s success). In Arat. 21,1–2, there is a situation that could suggest that nature indeed has a role to play in Aratus’ success. On a clear cloudless night in the middle of summer, the light of the full moon, reflected by the weapons, is dangerous for the troops as it enables them to be seen by the enemy. However, as the soldiers draw closer to Corinth, the light is hidden by clouds that rise from the sea (ἀπὸ θαλάσσης ἀνέδραμε νέφη). This darkness, though useful, hinders the strategist’s movements, as he is climbing a steep slope and cannot see the way. Then, as if in response to the problem caused by the clouds – ‘miraculously’, according to tradition (θαυμάσιον οἷον λέγεται) – the moonlight shines out, revealing the most difficult part of the route (Arat. 22,2) but then is immediately hidden by the clouds again. Mutatis mutandis, something similar happens in Flam. 8,1: after a hot rainy night, the deep darkness caused by a dense cloud, which makes fighting difficult, disappears momentarily, enabling the two armies to see what is happening around them and fight. Just as the sudden appearance of the moon normally favours the actions of the hero’s troops, so the darkness seems to benefit his enemies. For example, Mithridates, in Luc. 9,1 takes advantage of a dark rainy night to try to escape Lucullus. Although this association is unlikely to be the consequence of literary artifice to link the good (Greeks and Romans) to light and the bad (their respective enemies) to darkness, the truth is that the descriptions obtained do rather suggest this relationship. In the context of the dichotomy between light and darkness, mention must be made of the astronomical phenomenon that Plutarch most describes: eclipses, both solar (Pel. 31,4; Per. 35,2; Rom. 27,7) and lunar (Aem. 17,7; Nic. 23,1; Dion 24,1). All the eclipses in the Lives, with the exception of the one in Rom. 27, occur in contexts of war, just as the armies are about to begin fighting or leaving for war (Nic. 23,6; Pel. 31,4; Per. 35,2). Sometimes these contexts are also religious as the departure may be preceded by sacrifices (Dion 24,1). Information about eclipses is dispersed throughout the Vitae. The main source for lunar eclipses is Anaxagoras (Nic. 23,3), a figure of great importance for Plutarch, as he has a fundamental role in the development of natural science and in the training of Pericles (Per. 6,1), who was primus inter pares on the political scene. There is enough information dispersed through the Vitae to compile a small treatise on this subject, as Plutarch indicates the context in which the eclipses occur: during the night (Nic. 23,110), with a full moon (Nic. 10

Cf. Thuc. 7,50,4. This eclipse occurred on 27/8/413 BC.

160

ANA FERREIRA

23,2; Dion 23,3; Aem. 17,7) and with the moon at its zenith (Aem. 17,7) in the case of the lunar eclipses, and during the day (Pel. 31,411) and around the thirteenth day of the month (Nic. 23,2) in the case of the solar ones. Though this might seem like common sense, such details were important for the definition and distinction of eclipses in a context in which knowledge about them was scanty. Lunar eclipses are described in Aem. 17,7 and Nic. 23,2, involving a sudden darkening of the moon and changing colours (the colours would alter various times in the same night). However, the description is ambiguous, because of the ordering of the two moments. In the Life of Nicias, a sudden darkening of the moon (‘the moon suddenly loses its light’, αἰφνίδιον ἐκ πανσελήνου τὸ φῶς ἀπολλυσι: Nic. 23,2) is followed by a change of colours12 (‘it passes through all types of colours’, χρόας ἵησι παντοδαπάς: Nic. 23,2), while in the Life of Aemilius, the moon changes colour various times until it completely loses its light: αἰφνίδιον ἡ σελήνη πλήρης οὖσα καὶ μετέωρος ἐμελαίνετο καὶ τοῦ φωτὸς ἀπολιπόντος αὐτὴν χρόας ἀμείψασα παντοδαπὰς ἠφανίσθη Suddenly, the moon, which was full and at its zenith, darkened, lost its light after changing colour various times, and disappeared. This imprecision is likely to be considered a momentary lapse in the biography of Nicias, as there is more precise information in Aem. 17,9 to define the idea of the lunar eclipse: … τῶν ἐκλειπτικῶν ἀνωμαλιῶν, αἳ τὴν σελήνην περιφερομένην εἰς τὸ σκίασμα τῆς γῆς ἐμβάλλουσι τεταγμέναις περιόδοις καὶ ἀποκρύπτουσιν, ἄχρι οὗ παρελθοῦσα τὴν ἐπισκοτουμένην χώραν πάλιν ἐπιλάμψῃ πρὸς τὸν ἥλιον … the irregularities produced by eclipses, which plunge the moon into the earth’s shadow during its course for certain periods of time and conceal it from sight until, having crossed the region of shadow, it reflects again the light of the sun The information that Plutarch provides about lunar eclipses is much more detailed than about solar ones. This may be related to the claim made in Nic. 23,2 that, at the time of Nicias, solar eclipses were minimally understood, while lunar ones were not; hence, in Plutarch’s time, they continued to arouse strong emotions in people. 11

ὁ μὲν ἥλιος ἐξέλιπε καὶ σκότος ἐν ἡμέρᾳ τὴν πόλιν ἔσχεν. These changes were studied in the 20th century by André Danjon and became known as the ‘Danjon scale’. 12

THE POWER OF NATURE AND ITS INFLUENCE ON STATESMEN

161

We might wonder why Plutarch mentions the eclipses in such detail. The answer to this question is closely related to the matter of superstition, which he reflects on at different moments of his oeuvre, but particularly in the opusculum Περὶ Δεισιδαιμονίας13 (De sup. 164E–171E) dedicated to the subject. In fact, he considers that people should understand the causes of celestial phenomena (the science of nature – ὁ φυσικὸς λόγος) or else they will be perturbed by misplaced beliefs that may affect their actions. The statesman, who is obliged to protect the citizens for whom he is responsible, cannot display this type of weakness or behave as if he were ignorant14 and superstitious15. Hence, Plutarch applauds16 the reactions of Pericles17 and Pelopidas to the fear demonstrated by the pilot (Per. 35,218) and the people (Pel. 31,4) respectively, and criticizes Nicias (Nic. 23,1; De sup. 168F–169A). In the first case, Pericles uses his chlamys to show the pilot how an eclipse functions. In the second, Pelopidas, realising that people were fearful and without hope, leaves for war, while Nicias, petrified, does not, and consults seers and makes unnecessary sacrifices instead. However, although Plutarch is generally not favourable to superstition, he seems to accept that there is a strange coincidence between the occurrence of eclipses (and other manifestations) and the failure of his heroes’ ventures, as if they really were divine signs and the portents of what is to happen, as we can see in Per. 35,2–3 and Pel. 31,4. In the first case, although Pericles considers that associating the solar eclipse to a bad

13

Etymologically, this word means ‘fear of the gods’ or ‘respect for the gods’, but Plutarch uses it negatively in relation to people who believe that the gods have the power to hurt humanity. 14 Ignorance is the source of vice (Pl., Prt. 360b–d) and superstition (De sup. 165CD); knowledge is synonymous with virtue (Arist., EN 1144b28). 15 It is possible to make this claim based on the episodes that he evokes, aware that incomprehension and ignorance of the causes and functioning of the manifestations of nature, and of eclipses in particular cause fear and superstition. Particularly susceptible are people of a lower social rank (such as soldiers: Pel. 31,4), those that are fearful and have no hope (Per. 35) and the less cultured (Aem. 17,7), although people of noble ancestry, such as Nicias, may also be affected (Nic. 23,1; De sup. 168F–169A). For this point, see also Michiel Meeusen’s contribution to this volume. 16 Although Plutarch does not mention it, we know (through Liv. 44,37,5–8; Plb. 29,16) that C. Sulpicius Gallus, a military tribune in the second legion, informed his soldiers that there would be a lunar eclipse the day before it happened, explaining that they should not consider it an omen, but rather a natural phenomenon that could be understood and predicted. 17 Pericles was the disciple of Anaxagoras (Per. 6,1), from whom he learned a great deal about natural phenomena. 18 Cf. Thuc. 2,28. This eclipse occurred in 3/08/431 BC.

162

ANA FERREIRA

omen is a sign of superstition and ignorance, the Athenians were defeated and decimated by the plague. In the second, the same phenomenon is presented as a sign from the heavens, presaging the downfall of a worthy man; and, shortly afterwards, Dionysius is overcome. With regard to solar eclipses, let us pick up on what is said in Rom. 27,7 on the occasion of the account of the disappearance of Romulus, as this is not directly related to episodes of war. In fact, the alternation between light and darkness in the context of political life is also associated to the disappearance/death of statesmen and does not necessarily manifest itself in a total eclipse (Caes. 69,4–5). It is also usually accompanied by other manifestations, such as storms (as in Rom. 27,7 and Num. 2, in relation to Romulus) or comets (Caes. 69,4–5). Let us linger a little on this last passage, which alludes to a phenomenon that is even less common than a solar eclipse, which Plutarch classifies as θείον. According to tradition, this took place after the death of Caesar, when the sun lost its intensity for a year, with consequences for the ripening of fruit19. But, as already mentioned, divine manifestations associated to the death of Caesar were not limited to this suggestion that, after him, even the magnificence of Rome would never be the same again. Tradition, like the biographer, holds that another phenomenon occurred in the heavens at that time: a comet (μέγας κομήτης), which shone for seven nights20. The association of this type of phenomena to the disappearance of a statesman warrants more attention; in relation to two Roman figures that were of crucial importance for the construction and development of the empire, it does not have the usual character of prophesying death (that is to say, it is not exactly a bad omen). This suggests it may be a literary device to emphasise the heroes’ merit. However, it cannot really be attributed to Plutarch’s rhetorical skills, as he does no more than relay information fixed by tradition. And it does not seem as if a construction of such sophistication would spring spontaneously from tradition. In fact, it appears that, on the occasions of the deaths of Romulus and Caesar, these phenomena really did happen. Although Plutarch was not himself responsible for associating these phenomena to the deaths, he takes advantage of that connection in a different way in each biography. In the Life of Romulus, he treats it more impersonally and sceptically, given his commitment in the Life of Theseus (Thes. 1,5) to rationalizing the myth. It is therefore not surprising that he limits himself to recalling the different reasons presented by the population to justify the disappearance of the governor in that context, without advancing his own personal opinions,

19 20

Cf. Verg., G. 1,466–488. Cf. Suet., Caes. 88; Hor., Carm. 1,12,47; Verg., Ec. 9,47.

THE POWER OF NATURE AND ITS INFLUENCE ON STATESMEN

163

as he does elsewhere. As regards the death of Caesar, he surprisingly assumes that these phenomena, and the other events that took place after the death of Caesar, were the work of a daimon that had protected the statesman in life and avenged the crime perpetrated against him. In addition to eclipses and comets, Plutarch mentions another phenomenon that could be considered as another example of the light/darkness dichotomy: falling stars (Caes. 43,5; Pomp. 68,3–4 and Lys. 12,1). These are of interest because, like eclipses, they serve as the pretext for a brief scientific digression in Lys. 12,3–9. In this, Anaxagoras figures as one of the main authorities on the subject (as happens with the eclipses) although Plutarch does state that he considers another explanation more credible, the source of which he does not identify. Let us concentrate on Caes. 43,5 and Pomp. 68,3–4, two passages that allude to the same falling star. It is interesting to note that, once again, the biographer is less interested in characterizing the phenomenon than in describing the reaction that it provokes in those contemplating it. In this specific case, it generates widespread panic, not so much through ignorance of the nature of the phenomenon, but because of the trajectory described by the fire trail on the eve of the battle (λαμπὰς πυρός: Caes. 43,5; λαμπὰς φλογοειδής: Pomp. 68,3–4): it shines brighter as it passes over Caesar’s camp and disappears as it draws close to Pompey’s, whose men perceive it as a bad omen. In the Life of Pompey, the soldiers’ fear is offset by the reference to the calm of Caesar’s army as the star passes over. Concluding observations Through this tour of Plutarch’s biographies, it seems clear that the abundant, though cursory, references to natural phenomena and elements of nature are designed to characterize the heroes through their actions, in this case, their reactions to the different meteorological and astronomical events. But it also has to do with the ultimate aim of presenting models of statesmen for anyone that might be considering this career, although not all of the examples given (such as Nicias) are the best or the most praiseworthy. This is not surprising, as Plutarch believed that it was possible to perfect virtues and behaviours through the contemplation of less positive paradigms21. In any case, it is also clear that human beings, being elements of nature, also react to these manifestations and mutations. If man develops the intelligence and reason that distinguish him from the animals, he will be able to react differently from them, as he understands the phenomena (e.g., Pericles). This comprehension may even transform those

21

Cf. Demetr. 1,6; Ferreira (2014) 25.

164

ANA FERREIRA

phenomena into tools that will enable him to fulfil his intentions, although sometimes his plans may be thwarted. If man does not allow his behaviour to be governed by reason, he will be immobilized by fear, like an irrational animal (e.g., Nicias). Natural phenomena are often believed to result from the intervention of the gods or destiny in the life of mortals, not only through superstition (people reacting out of fear) but also belief (motivated by trust). Plutarch will have included examples of how nature conditions human action, with short explanations about each, in order to characterize what is really the central theme of his great work: human beings, with all their strengths and weaknesses. Ana Ferreira Universidade do Porto / CECH Bibliography Boulogne, J. (2008), “Les digressions scientifiques dans les Vies de Plutarque”, in Nikolaidis, A.G. (ed.), The Unity of Plutarch’s Work: ‘Moralia’ Themes in the ‘Lives’, Features of the ‘Lives’ in the ‘Moralia’, Berlin, 733–749. Ferreira, A. (2014), O homem de Estado ateniense em Plutarco: o caso dos Alcméonidas, Coimbra (Collection Humanitas Supplementum). Flacelière, R. (1951), “Plutarque et les eclipses de lune”, REA 53, 201–221. Flacelière, R. – Chambry, M. (1958), Plutarque: Vies. Tome I: Thésée-Romulus. LycurgueNuma, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1964), Plutarque: Vies. Tome III: Périclès-Fabius Maximus. AlcibiadeCoriolan, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1967), Plutarque: Vies. Tome IV: Timoléon-Paul-Émile. Pélopidas-Marcellus, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1967), Plutarque: Vies. Tome V: Aristide-Caton l’Ancien. PhilopoemenFlamininus, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1971), Plutarque: Vies. Tome VI: Pyrrhos-Marius. Lysandre-Sylla, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1972), Plutarque: Vies. Tome VII: Cimon-Lucullus. Nicias-Crassus, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1973), Plutarque: Vies. Tome VIII: Sertorius-Eumène. Agésilas-Pompée, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1975), Plutarque: Vies. Tome IX: Alexandre-César, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1976), Plutarque: Vies. Tome X: Phocion-Caton le Jeune, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1976), Plutarque: Vies. Tome XII: Démosthène-Cicéron, Paris (CUF).

THE POWER OF NATURE AND ITS INFLUENCE ON STATESMEN Flacelière, R. (1977), Plutarque: Vies. Tome XIII: Démétrios-Antoine, Paris (CUF). Flacelière, R. (1978), Plutarque: Vies. Tome XIV: Dion-Brutus, Paris (CUF). Sarton, G. (2011), Ancient Science through the Golden Age of Greece, New York.

165

Chasing Butterflies: The Conception of the Soul in Plutarch’s Works* ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE It is well-known that numerous ancient cultures represent the human soul’s wandering from life to death by means of various theriomorphic figures. Indeed, bears, ravens, mice, wasps, bees, dragonflies, or even dung-beetles may symbolically embody the soul on its ultimate journey. Strikingly, however, this is not the case in ancient Greece, in so far as we know from Plutarch’s works, although his interest in the human soul is an undisputed fact and can be seen in numerous of his writings (where he deals with its creation, form, internal dichotomy, substance, origin, and destination)1. Usually, when confronted with the need to represent such a scene, ancient Greek artists resorted to the so-called eidolon, a figure that appears more often than some scholars may expect. Thus, for example, the Dutch scholar Jan Bremmer, who, in his The Early Greek Concept of the Soul2, after describing the eidolon as “a being that looks exactly like a person … generally conceived of as a shadow”3, asserts that even this representation is rather uncommon4. However, souls as eidola are well attested in Greek art, for example, on funerary lekythoi, even if in general these rarely portray eschatological scenes. As has been pointed out5, this might be due either to the desire to remember the deceased individual as he or she was while alive, or to the predominance of a realistic style. In

*

I am grateful to Professor Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta (University of Groningen) for his invariably stimulating suggestions. 1 Perhaps the three most interesting passages on this issue are Plutarch, De sera 563F–568A; De facie 943A–945C; De genio 590B–592E. For an overview, see HirschLuipold (2014) 171–175. 2 Cf. Bremmer (1987) 64. 3 Cf. Homer, Il. 10,495; 11,207f. 4 Cf. Bremmer (1987) 79. 5 Cf. Díez de Velasco (2013) 190.

168

ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE

fact, only one hundred of the two thousand white background lekythoi portray purely eschatological scenes (representations of the daily Greek life predominate in the others)6. Among the former, two kinds of figures represent the soul of the deceased individual: either small human-like figures, or winged homunculi that fly around the heads of the corpses and of the underworld characters. In my view, both representations should be related to the eidola described by Bremmer7 (see fig. 1). In any case, what seems clear is that there is no place in Greek pottery for animals or insects as symbolic representatives of the human soul8.

Fig. 1. Athens, NM 1928 by the painter of Sabouroff; reproduced by permission of the museum.

Beside the eidolon in all of its variations – be it as a pure eidolon, a human-like figure, or a flying homunculus –, Bremmer still posits two other possible representations of the soul in its post-mortal state, even if the evidence is in these cases somewhat problematic. Thus there is, for example, the Greek belief that, after death, the soul could turn into

6

A good example is the anonymous MN 1814 (CC1662) in the National Museum of Athens, cf. Díez de Velasco (2013) 189, n. 15. 7 Cf. Díez de Velasco (2013) 207–208. 8 Many thanks to Professor Pedro Marfil (University of Cordoba) for calling my attention to this interesting point.

CHASING BUTTERFLIES

169

a snake9, and in Aristotle’s Historia Animalium there is a passage that seemingly associates the human soul with a butterfly (551a13–27)10. In this passage, the philosopher uses the Greek term psyche to denote a species of butterfly, the pieris brassicae, a usage which allegedly can be traced back to the Minoan age, although, as Bremmer himself concedes, there is still no solid evidence for this11. This discussion has been reopened in recent scholarship. Indeed, Verity Jane Platt has argued that some butterfly-like figures that appear on certain Greek gems should be interpreted as souls12. In her view, this is the case in a small number of examples in which the gems depict an Eros burning a butterfly with a torch (see figs. 2 and 3). According to Platt, the representation does not echo the well-known myth of Eros and Psyche13, but rather shows the background of magical love spells: when torching the butterfly, Eros incarnates the ‘power of desire’, which by means of the fire captures the will of a human soul14. While this may be an original and attractive interpretation, the textual evidence in support of it is tenuous. In fact, besides the mention of the scene in PGM 4,1724–173115, the author only provides the aforementioned passage of Aristotle’s Historia animalium16.

9 Cf. Bremmer (1987) 77–78 and 80–81. See also, Hultkrantz (1953) 465. Contra Cook (1925) 645 n. 4. 10 Aristotle, HA 551a13–27: “The so-called psyche or butterfly is generated from caterpillars which grow on green leaves, chiefly leaves of the raphanus, which some call crambe or cabbage. At first it is less than a grain of millet; it then grows into a small grub; and in three days it is a tiny caterpillar. After this it grows on and on, and becomes quiescent and changes its shape, and is now called a chrysalis. The outer shell is hard, and the chrysalis moves if you touch it. It attaches itself by cobweb-like filaments and is unfurnished with mouth or any other apparent organ. After a little while the outer covering bursts asunder, and out flies the winged creature that we call the psyche or butterfly. At first, when it is a caterpillar, it feeds and ejects excrement; but when it turns into the chrysalis it neither feeds nor ejects excrement”. 11 Cf. Bremmer (1987) 82. 12 Cf. Platt (2007) 89–99. 13 Cf. Apuleius, Met. 4,28–6,24; Myth. Vat. 1,231; Fulgentius, Myth. 3,6. See also Ruiz de Elvira (42000) 495–496. 14 Cf. Platt (2007) 94–96. 15 PGM 4,1716–1870, namely, “Sword of Dardanos”, 1730–1735: “and below / Aphrodite and Psyche engrave Eros standing on the vault of heaven, holding a blazing torch and burning Psyche”, cf. Betz (1986) 69–71. 16 Also, Greek Anthology 16,198; Gow and Page 1968, vol. 2, 317; Platt (2007) 94 and 96. Regarding the argument of similia similibus formula, cf. Faraone (1991) 5.

170

ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE

Fig. 2. Bath, The Roman Baths Museum 1983.14.d.9; reproduced by permission of the museum.

Fig. 3. Italy Gallery, Ashmolean Museum. Beazley Archive 44b; reproduced by permission of the museum.

Can Plutarch help us to shed some light on the relationship between Greek art and the literary sources that allegedly supported them? Interestingly, among his numerous works, scholars believe to have found three pas-

CHASING BUTTERFLIES

171

sages in which the butterfly motif represents the human soul departing from the body after death. My analysis in the following pages will therefore attempt to determine if we are dealing with the survival of ancestral beliefs and motifs, or whether the butterfly is a mere metaphor symbolizing life’s breath departing from the body. The first of the sections that may suggest a connection between soul and butterfly is Quaest. conv. 636C, in which Plutarch deals with the old Orphic-Pythagorean discussion of whether the egg was created earlier than the hen. Through his interlocutor Firmus, the Chaeronean expounds his hypothesis that simple elements precede complex ones. In order to explain his position, Firmus begins with the Atomistic theory. He then goes on to assert that the seed comes before the egg, and the hen after that, due to the fact that what is simple always comes first. Firmus bolsters his opinion with an ethical metaphor: “as development admittedly exists between innate merit and perfected virtue”. In his view, therefore, the egg should be considered as the intermediate element between the seed and the formed animal. The argument proceeds with a biological analogy. In his opinion, several components of the human body, such as arteries and veins, should exist before the bodily whole has been perfectly shaped17. This is also the case in art, where shapeless and undefined forms precede the artist’s finished work. It is in this moment that Plutarch introduces the metaphor we are dealing with, illuminating the similarities between caterpillar and egg, and, supposedly, between human soul and butterfly. In Plutarch’s own words: ὡς δὲ κάμπη γίνεται τὸ πρῶτον, εἶτ’ ἐκπαγεῖσα διὰ ξηρότητα καὶ περιρραγεῖσ’ ἕτερον πτερωθὲν δι’ αὑτῆς τὴν καλουμένην ψυχὴν μεθίησιν, τὸν αὐτὸν τρόπον ἐνταῦθα προϋφίσταται τὸ ᾠὸν οἷον ὕλη τῆς γενέσεως. And just as the caterpillar exists first, then, made brittle by dryness, it bursts asunder and itself releases another creature, winged, the so-called psyche (butterfly); so in like manner the egg here exists first, as material of generation18. The exposition continues with the reference to other zoogonic similes, namely, a comparison with bark-beetles and woodworms19. Even if 17 Cf. Quaest. conv. 636A–B. The paragraph could be an interpolation, cf. Teodorsson (1989) 217–218. 18 Clement – Hoffleit (1969) 149–151. 19 Cf. Quaest. conv. 636D. Teodorsson (1989) 220, highlights that the focus of the text is the question of how insects are born, whether through autogenesis or copulation, following the aforementioned quotation of Arist., HA 551a13–27. See also Geop. 15,1,21; Quaest. conv. 637B; Arist., HA 539a; GA 715b27.

172

ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE

Firmus does not explicitly mention that both kinds of insects hatch from eggs, he nevertheless makes use of them to explain that “the form from which a change is made necessarily precedes the form which results from change”. Plato’s words in the Timaeus provide the necessary support and bring this section to a close: “and matter is all from which whatever is created has its substance”20. Finally, Firmus refers to the myth of the orphic egg, which provides the logical conclusion. Firmus here defends the view that the egg existed not only before the hen, but also before the whole of creation. Additionally, the egg is, in his words, the consecrated symbol of Dionysus, one that produces and contains everything21. On the basis of this section of Quaestiones convivales, Pearson suggested an emendation of two Plutarchean passages – namely Cons. ad ux. 611F22 and fr. 177 Sandbach – in arguing that they both identify the human soul with the butterfly. The former is very lacunary and runs as follows: ἡ δὲ ληφθεῖσα μὲν … ὑπὸ κρειττόνων ἔρχεται [ἔχεται Wyttenbach], καθάπερ ἐκ καμπῆς [κάμπης Pearson] ὑγρᾶς καὶ μαλθακῆς ἀναχαιτίσασα23 πρὸς ὅ πέφυκεν. [Whereas the soul that tarries] after its capture [but a brief space in the body before it is set free by higher powers]24 proceeds to its natural state as though released from a bent position with flexibility and resilience unimpaired25. Pearson accepts most of Wyttenbach’s proposals for the text, admitting both the ἔχεται and his hypothesis that the lacuna after ἡ δὲ ληφθεῖσα μέν should contain a description of the soul, which has spent a short time in its corporeal environment26. Pearson’s innovation, however, concerns his preference for κάμπης (‘caterpillar’) over καμπῆς (‘bending’ or ‘flexion’), which, even if based on a minute change, introduces an important semantic shift. He translates: “like a butterfly shaking itself free from the supple and yielding caterpillar into its natural element”. Indeed,

20

Cf. Plato, Ti. 49a; 51a; 52d. See also Teodorsson (1989) 221. Cf. Teodorsson (1989) 221–224. Bernabé (2008) 295–296, regarding its implications, see 44 n. 44. See also Roig Lanzillota (2010) 115–141. 22 Cf. Pearson (1907) 214. 23 Pearson accepts, however, that the use of ἀναχαιτίζειν, with a wide range of parallels among Plutarch’s works, makes preferable the option of καμπῆς. 24 Wyttenbach supplies μένουσα δὲ βραχὺν ἐν τῷ σώματι χρόνον ἐλευθερωθεῖσα. 25 De Lacy – Einarson (1959). See also the parallels they adduce on p. 603, n. b. 26 Cf. Pearson (1907) 214. 21

CHASING BUTTERFLIES

173

whereas the edition of Wyttenbach perfectly fits Plutarch’s conception of the transmigration of the soul after death, the amendment by Pearson supposes a metaphorical use here, a simile by which the soul leaving the human body is compared to a butterfly emerging from a caterpillar’s cocoon. It is important to note that, in this work, Plutarch is trying to comfort his wife upon the death of their daughter, Timoxena. The main purpose of the Chaeronean is to explain that Timoxena’s soul has moved on to a better, painless state, and consequently the sorrow of her loss should not affect her parents (611C). In addition, however, Plutarch deals with the change of state of the soul, from this life to death, also engaging with Epicurean theories on the subject. In Plutarch’s opinion, the soul is immortal and hence its material life is like that of a bird in a cage (ταῖς ἁλισκομέναις ὄρνισι). Just like a bird is domesticated through habit, the soul may become used to this life and become entangled in material passions and changes of fortune due to its consecutive reincarnations. In order to avoid this, it is best for the soul to leave this life at the earliest opportunity and to regain its pristine state, freed from the human body. The broader thematic context, to be sure, is the transmigration of the soul after death, clearly paralleled in Plato’s Phaedo, especially in its understanding of the soul’s residing in a physical body as an imprisonment27. Wyttenbach completed the lacuna after μέν, correctly in my opinion, suggesting that Plutarch inserted here a description of the soul that spends only a short while in its corporeal environment. In this context, Wyttenbach’s interpretation appears plausible. As for the second emendation (fr. 177 Sandbach), Pearson included his proposal in his review of Prichkard’s Selected Essays of Plutarch. Vol. II 28. It concerns a fragment of Plutarch’s lost De Anima 2, where Pearson again defends κάμπης over καμπῆς, and resorts to Moralia 611F and 636C in order to support it (these are the passages from the Consolatio and Quaestiones convivales referred to above): διὸ δὴ καὶ λόγον ἔχει καθάπερ ἐκ καμπῆς [κάμπης Pearson] τινὸς ἀνείσης οἷον ἐξᾴττειν καὶ ἀναθεῖν τὴν ψυχήν ἀποπνέοντος τοῦ σώματος ἀναπνέουσαν αὐτὴν καὶ ἀναψύχουσαν29.

27

Plato, Phd. 82c–83a; Brenk (1998) 29–30 and n. 5. Cf. Pearson (1919) 33–35. 29 See also, Volpe Cacciatore (22010) 196 and 197: διὸ δὴ καὶ λόγον ἔχει καθάπερ ἐκ καμπῆς τινος ἀνείσης οἷον ἐξᾴττειν καὶ ἀναθεῖν τὴν ψυχὴν ἀποπνέοντος τοῦ σώματος ἀναπνέουσαν αὐτὴν καὶ ἀναψύχουσαν, “perciò è verosimile che l’anima, quando il corpo spira, scatti e rimblazi in su, come al rilascio di una molla, e riprenda fiato e vigore”. 28

174

ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE

Hence it is reasonable to believe that the soul, when expired by the body, shoots forth and races upwards, as if at the release of a spring, and itself draws breath and is revivified30. Pearson again adjusts the text by correcting καμπῆς into κάμπης. He translates: “the soul darts out and runs upwards, as from a certain caterpillar from it had been released”. The context is again that of the soul’s transmigration. Here, Plutarch’s interlocutor, Timon, defends the notion that what is imperishable does not share anything with the perishable in what regards the dissolution of death. In order to substantiate his claim, he resorts to the etymology of the term θάνατος (‘death’), which he relates to θέον ἄνω (‘racing upwards’). In his opinion, it means that what remains of a deceased human being does not stay in the world nor descends below it, but rather ascends swiftly to the higher realm. In the same line, the term γένεσις (‘birth’) is linked to ἐπὶ γῆν νεῦσις and interpreted as ‘earthward inclination’. Pearson’s emendations are certainly plausible from a palaeographical perspective, as they only involve the change of one diacritical mark (κάμπης/καμπῆς). However, in my opinion, they are far removed from Plutarch’s view, as will be demonstrated further on. Let us now return to the passage from Quaestiones convivales (636C). As Teodorsson argues, first of all, Firmus’s speech seems to reveal Plutarch’s intention to ridicule Epicurean theories31. Indeed, the conversation is related in a rather relaxed key, as follows: “after Alexander had ridiculed the inquiry on the ground that it yielded no firm solution, my relative Firmus said …”. Subsequently, the speech no longer deals with the main topic outlined above – the creation of the world’s soul. Despite of this, Firmus goes on to deliver a speech, filled with Aristotelian terminology that propounds a zoogonical simile for the creation of all things32. Yet, even so his conclusions actually contradict those of the Stagirite. For example, in the specific case of the butterfly, the so-called psyche, Aristotle has his doubts regarding its birth, but he nonetheless proposes that butterflies are born by spontaneous generation: “The so-called psyche or butterfly is generated from caterpillars which grow on green leaves, chiefly leaves of the raphanus, which some call crambe or cabbage”33. Aristotle mentions neither the seed nor the egg, nor the insect that is their result, as does Firmus: “as development admittedly exists between innate

30

Sandbach (1969). See also Roskam (2007) 137 and n. 182. Teodorsson, (1989) 215, supports his argument with direct quotations of Epicurus, such as ἐμοὶ … ἀτόμους, Epicurus, Ep. 2,41. 32 Cf. Quaest. conv. 636AB. See also Teodorsson (1989) 216. 33 Cf. Aristotle, HA 551a13–27; Geop. 15,1,21. See also, Teodorsson (1989) 219. 31

CHASING BUTTERFLIES

175

merit and perfected virtue, so the intermediate development in nature’s passage from the seed to the living creature is the egg”34. Similarly, we find significant contradictions once we arrive at the birth processes of bark-beetles and woodworms35. Secondly, it is notable that Firmus’s own arguments are contradictory. For instance, although he begins with the Atomistic theory, arguing that atoms are the first components of everything, he immediately forgets this, asserting the seed as the initial cause instead. In addition, as the speech further on suggests, if the seed comes first, then the hen exists beforehand36. The comic aspect of this reductio ad absurdum of Firmus’s speech, which consequently has nothing to do with Plutarch’s opinion, is evident at the end of his discourse, with the mention of Firmus’s laughter, ἔφη γελάσας, “he added with a laugh”37. If Plutarch and his wife were initiated into the Dionysian mysteries, as he affirms in his Cons. ad ux. 611D, Firmus’s intervention lacks the serious tone it deserves. We can therefore conclude that Plutarch’s intention is a parody and that the butterfly-soul is a mere metaphor. Consequently, the passage, far from showing the author’s view, is a pastiche with Aristotelian echoes – and consciously deformed ones at that. Let us now return to the second text of Cons. ad ux. 611F and review Pearson’s arguments once again. His corrections to the text are supported mainly by three arguments: 1. The conception of the butterfly-soul is widely attested by anthropologists; 2. ψύχη was the name actually given to a certain species of butterfly, which seems to be confirmed by Aristotle’s passage in the Historia animalium; 3. If any doubt remains, it may be assuaged by a comparison with Quaest. conv. 636C38. As for the first argument, Pearson does not provide any further information about which anthropologists attest the butterfly motif, and in which 34

Cf. Quaest. conv. 636B. Cf. Teodorsson (1989) 220. Cf. Quaest. conv. 636DE; he also supports his view with Plato’s theory on creation through imitation, cf. Plato, Ti. 49a; 50d; 52d. As far as this view is concerned, there exists a relationship between the first entity and the second one, as a result of the process of transformation. Moreover, Plutarch asserts that there exists a proportional relationship between the act of growing and the corruption by humidity. 36 Cf. Teodorsson (1989) 216–217. 37 Cf. Quaest. conv. 636D. 38 Cf. Pearson (1907) 214. 35

176

ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE

culture(s). In any case, as Jan Bremmer maintains, this conception is not attested in Greek literature, while in the European context it has only been found in Irish and Estonian folklore39. As for the second point, the aforementioned Aristotelian passage is not definitive. The ancient Greek polysemy of a term referring at the same time to the human soul and to a species of butterfly could originate from an ancient belief, but its meaning bears no traces on Aristotle’s works nor appears in those of Plutarch. As for the third point, in my view, the Quaestiones convivales passage cannot be used in support of Pearson’s conjecture in the other two passages, since they have rather different backgrounds. Whereas in Quaestiones convivales Firmus describes the soul’s incarnation in the human body, Plutarch in his Consolatio discusses the opposite process: the transmigration of the soul after death. In what regards fr. 177 Sandbach, apart from referring to his own article, published several years ago, Pearson does not present any further solid evidence. As was the case in the Consolatio, the core of the fragment is the transmigration of the human soul after death. This prevents us from connecting one passage with the other, from considering them as parallels and, consequently, from assimilating butterfly and soul. To conclude, it seems safe to affirm that Plutarch does not identify the soul with the butterfly: the only passage in which this happens is a parody filled with pseudo-scientific Aristotelian terminology. The only case in which the soul is related to the butterfly is found in Quaestiones convivales, where it serves as a simple metaphor. As a result, in my view, as far as the Greek literature is concerned, and excluding the testimony of Aristotle, we find only a mythological symbolism, that of Psyche, represented as a butterfly. Therefore, any further attempt to identify the human soul with the butterfly must be based on a solid textual foundation that is to include new texts, which up to now have not been taken into account. The artistic examples discussed above may show that winged eidola may be confused with butterflies, but, until new and solid evidence is provided, the hypothesis remains speculative40. Israel Muñoz Gallarte Universidad de Córdoba 39 Cf. Bremmer (1987) 64–65; Nilsson (31967) 198. See also Lixfeld (1972) 60–107; Hultkrantz (1953) 278–279. 40 Regarding the testimonies from Minoan and Mycenaean arts, see Dietrich (21974) 121–122. Bremmer, (1987) 64–65, 82, also says: “[I]mportunely, there are no other indications of a possible connection between the butterfly and the soul of the living and the dead”. In fact, the only example he sees as being up for discussion is Lucian’s Panegyric to the Fly, 7.

CHASING BUTTERFLIES

177

Bibliography Bernabé Pajares, A. – Casadesús, F. (eds.) (2008), Orfeo y la tradición órfica. Un reencuentro, 2 vols, Madrid. Betz, H.D. (1986), The Greek Magical Papyri in Translation. Including the Demotic Spells, Chicago. Bremmer, I. (1987), The early Greek Concept of the Soul, Princeton. Brenk, F.E. (1998), Relighting the Souls. Studies in Plutarch, in Greek Literature, Religion, and Philosophy, and in the New Testament Background, Stuttgart. Clement, P.A. – Hoffleit, H.B. (1969), Plutarch’s Moralia, vol. VIII, London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). Cook, A.B. (1925), Zeus. A Study in Ancient Religion, vol. II, Cambridge. De Lacy, P.H. – Einarson, B. (1959), Plutarch. Moralia, vol. VII.2, London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). Dietrich, B.C. (21974), The Origins of Greek Religion, Berlin. Díez de Velasco, F. (2013), “El mediador fantasma: mediaciones simbólicas en el imaginario ateniense clásico del tránsito al más allá”, in http://fradive.webs.ull.es/artic/ fantasma.pdf, 181–218 [last access, 24-3-2014]. Faraone, Ch.A. (1991), “The Agonistic Context of Early Greek Binding Spells”, in Faraone, Ch.A. – Obbink, D. (eds.), Magika Hiera: Ancient Greek Magic and Religion, Oxford, 4–32. Hirsch-Luipold, R. (2014), “Religion and Myth”, in Beck, M. (ed.), A Companion to Plutarch, Malden-Oxford, 163–176. Hultkrantz, A. (1953), Conceptions of the Soul among North American Indians, Stockholm. Lixfeld, H. (1972), “Die Guntramsage (AT 1645A)”, Fabula 13, 60–107. Nilsson, M.P. (31967), Geschichte der griechischen Religion, vol. I, Munich. Pearson, A.C. (1907), “Stoica Frustula”, The Journal of Philology 30, 211–222. Pearson, A.C. (1919), “Selected Essays of Plutarch. Vol. II. Translated with Introduction by A.O. Prickard. Pp. xx + 336. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1918. 3s. 6d. net”, CR 33, 33–35. Platt, V. (2007), “Burning Butterflies: Seals, Symbols and the Soul in Antiquity”, in Gilmour, L.A. (ed.), Pagans and Christians – from Antiquity to the Middle Ages: papers in honour of Martin Henig, presented on the occasion of his 65th birthday, Oxford, 89–100. Roig Lanzillotta, F.L. (2010), “Orphic Cosmogonies in the Pseudo-Clementines? Textual Relationship, Character and Sources of Homilies 6.3–13 and Recognitions 10.17– 19.30”, in Bremmer, J.N. (ed.), The Pseudo-Clementines, Leuven, 115–141. Roskam, G. (2007), A Commentary on Plutarch’s De latenter vivendo, Leuven.

178

ISRAEL MUÑOZ GALLARTE

Ruiz de Elvira, A. (42000), Mitología Clásica, Madrid. Sandbach, F.H. (1969), Plutarch. Fragments, vol. XV, London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). Teodorsson, S.-T. (1989), A Commentary on Plutarchs Table Talks, vol. 1, Gothenburg. Volpe Cacciatore, P. (22010), Plutarco. I Frammenti, Napoli.

Plutarch’s Anthropology and Its Influence on His Cosmological Framework LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA After decades of confidence that a consistent body of thought or system would be found behind the multifarious themes dealt with in Plutarch’s abundant literary production1, recent years have seen such meritorious efforts replaced by a growing diffidence. Compared to the efforts of scholars during the 20th century to understand how diverse Plutarchean works relate to one another and, more importantly, the extent to which these reflect a unified body of thought, scholars nowadays are rather reserved regarding the possibility of finding such unity and tend to highlight differences instead of similarities. This concerns not only the analysis of the two main parts of Plutarch’s oeuvre, namely the Lives and Moralia2, but also and especially the study of the myths included in some tracts of the latter corpus. In his introduction to the text and translation of Plutarch’s De genio Socratis (2010), Donald A. Russell, for example, affirms that even if Plutarch’s myths draw on a stock of religious, philosophical and scientific lore, this “fund does not amount to a coherent system, and it would be rash to assume that there is such a thing, and that Plutarch is just revealing parts of it to us, a bit at a time”3. After analysing Plutarch’s eschatological myths behind De sera, De genio and De facie, in the same book Werner Deuse similarly concludes that it is impossible to find a consistent cosmological and anthropological system behind them. In his view “each myth fulfils a specific task of its own within the work for which it was conceived” and even if “in each there are also motifs and elements that connect it with the other myths”, they can hardly be subjected to a comprehensive synopsis or interpreted as parts of a uniform and overarching conception4. 1

Thus Hamilton (1934a) 24–30 at 24; and Hamilton (1934b) 175–182. See also Vernière (1977). 2 See however Nikolaidis (2008). 3 Russel (2010) 3–15 at 9. 4 Deuse (2010) 169–197 at 197.

180

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

Against these interpretations I intend to claim not only the unity of Plutarch’s cosmological views as expressed in De genio, De facie and De sera, but also the intrinsic relationship of this cosmology with the anthropology behind De animae procreatione, De virtute morali and other works. This relationship is not striking, though. Plutarch is no exception to the ancient view that sees the human being in the light of the cosmological framework5. The Universe and human being are so closely related to one another that they are conceived of as macrocosmos and microcosmos, large and small examples of the same order. With this in mind, I will firstly focus on Plutarch’s anthropological views. I will then analyse the different parts of his cosmological framework with a view to show how these parts are closely related to the parts within the human being as a whole and add some concluding remarks. 1. Microcosmos: Plutarch’s anthropological views Plutarch’s view of man is clearly tripartite. The vision of the intellect governing body and soul is a recurrent theme in the corpus Plutarcheum. The famous De facie section, in which Sylla corrects the standard bipartite view of man in order to state his tripartite conception6, has been dealt with on numerous occasions7 and with great accuracy in some cases8. In the history of anthropology Sylla’s assertion is an important turning point. Even if frequently implied in numerous ancient sources9, it is in Plutarch’s De facie10 that the human trichotomy is dealt with explicitly for the first 5 Allers (1944) 319–407 at 348 following Stenzel (1931) 29, affirms that cosmocentric microcosmism in a way pervades ancient anthropology. 6 De facie 943A. 7 De facie 943A. On this passage see Hamilton (1934a); Deuse (1983) 45–47; Deuse (2010) 182–190. 8 See, for example, Zeller (1903) III/2, 198; Ueberweg – Praechter (1926) 538; Dillon (1996) 211–213; Cherniss – Helmbold (1957) 196–199; Ferrari (1995) 178–181; Dörrie – Baltes (2002a) 204–207. 9 Aristotle, of course, provides the precedent for the view defended by Sylla: in his view intellect was separated from soul and, differently than the latter, immortal. See on the intellect DA 408b18–26; 413b24–28; 429a24–429b6; 430a17–25. See, on the status of the soul, DA 412a19–30; 413a3–10; 414a19–25. For Aristotle’s criticism of Plato’s bipartition and his view of the nous not as an element in its own right, but as a part of the soul, see Cherniss (1944) 605 ff. In spite of Aristotle’s criticism, however, Dörrie – Baltes (2002a) 204, point out that the corpus Platonicum provides enough passages – such as Ti. 42d5; 69c–70e; 30b; 46d5–6; Phlb. 30c; Legg. 897b1–2; 961d7; Epin. 982b5 – to let Aëtius (Dox. gr. 392) affirm that Plato, together with Pythagoras, Anaxagoras, Xenocrates and Cleanthes conceived of the nous as “coming in man from without”. 10 Besides Plutarch’s De facie, also De genio Socr. 591D–F (below) mentions this

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

181

time11. As well as mentioning human being’s three parts, Sylla’s words also assert a clear hierarchy among them: ‘in the same degree as soul is superior to body, so is mind better and more divine than human soul’. But the hierarchical relationship among the parts of the human complex is not the main focus of Sylla’s speech. In fact, it intends to explain the soul’s double nature. It is its combination either with the intellect or with the body that explains the rational or irrational parts of the soul12. A similar background also seems to explain the anthropology behind Timarchus’ myth in De genio, a text which apparently defends a bipartite rather than a tripartite view of man13. However, the passage in question begins by asserting that every soul partakes in nous or rationality, even if this aspect might be eclipsed by the soul’s excessive exchange with the body: ψυχὴ πᾶσα νοῦ μετέσχεν, ἄλογος δὲ καὶ ἄνους οὐκ ἔστιν, ἀλλ’ ὅσον ἂν αὐτῆς σαρκὶ μιχθῇ καὶ πάθεσιν, ἀλλοιούμενον τρέπεται καθ’ ἡδονὰς καὶ ἀλγηδόνας εἰς τὸ ἄλογον. μίγνυται δ’ οὐ πᾶσα τὸν αὐτὸν τρόπον· ἀλλ’ αἱ ὅλαι κατέδυσαν εἰς σῶμα, καὶ δι’ ὅλων ἀναταραχθεῖσαι τὸ σύμπαν ὑπὸ παθῶν διαφέρονται κατὰ τὸν βίον·14 … every soul partakes of understanding; none is irrational or unintelligent. But the portion of the soul that mingles with flesh and passions suffers alteration, and becomes irrational in the pleasures and pains it undergoes. Not every soul mingles to the same extent. Some sink entirely into the body and, becoming disordered throughout, are wholly distracted by passions during their life …15 When the rational part is not completely subdued by irrationality, tripartition is in turn preserved16. Thanks to the part that “is not dragged in with

trichotomy explicitly, while other passages – such as De genio Socr. 592C; De sera 563E; 564C; 566 D – imply it. 11 Of course, this priority depends on the chronology one gives to the tenth Hermetic treatise called the Key, which exposes exactly the same tripartite view in the same explicit manner: see CH 10,13; 17–18. On the issue, Dillon (2001) 42–43. 12 De facie 943A5–6; see also De an. procr. 1014E; 1016C; 1023D; 1024CD; 1026E; Quaest. Plat. 2,1001C; 4,1003A and, on the issue, Dörrie – Baltes (2002a) 205–206, with notes 27–31. 13 On the myth included in Plutarch, De genio Socr. 591D–592C, see Hamilton (1934b); Verniére (1977) 126–127; Babut (1984) 69–70; Döring (1984) 382–384; Dillon (1996) 212–214; Dörrie – Baltes (2002b) 228–234; Deuse (2010). 14 De genio Socr. 591DE. 15 English translation by De Lacy – Einarson (1959). 16 De genio Socr. 591DE: “… others mingle in part, but leave outside what is purest

182

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

the rest … is obedient and not overpowered by the passions”17, the individual is receptive and sensible to the third, extrinsic element, namely the nous or intellect, which De genio, in line with the Timaeus18, conceives of as a daimon that guides the individual19. The highest element in the human hierarchy is, consequently, the intellect. As such, it controls and guides the soul, assuring the direction and sound functioning of the individual20. Therefore, it can be described as impassible and sovereign21. Plutarch is clear about its separated nature: intellect is not a part of the soul, namely its rational part, but rather something detached, an entity in its own right. This separateness is emphasized in De facie by an analogy with the status of the soul within the body: the intellect is not a part of the soul, but is located in it in the same way that the soul is located in the body22. De genio, in turn, underlines its separable – even extrinsic – nature23, since even if relying on the Timaeus precedent, it seems clear that Plutarch is echoing Aristotle’s intellectus extrinsecus from De generatione animalium24. As far as the soul is concerned, it is Plutarch’s main point of interest, both in the case of De facie and in the passage of De genio quoted above. But Plutarch also discusses its nature in De virtute, in De animae procreatione in Timaeo and in Quaestiones Platonicae. Placed at the same distance between the intellect and the body, the soul occupies an intermediary position in a human being and, as such, functions as a bridge between immaterial and material realities. Its intermediary function is

in them. This is not dragged in with the rest, but is like a buoy attached to the top, floating on the surface in contact with the man’s head, while he is, as it were, submerged in the depths; and it supports as much of the soul, which is held upright about it, as it is obedient and not overpowered by the passions”. 17 Dillon (2001) 35–44 at 39–40. 18 De genio Socr. 591EF: “Now the part carried submerged in the body is called the soul, whereas the part left free from corruption is called by the multitude the understanding, who take it to be within themselves, as they take reflected objects to be in the mirrors that reflect them; but those who conceive the matter rightly call it a daemon, as being external”. 19 See on the issue, De genio Socr. 588DE: “Socrates had an intelligence, which being pure and free from passion, and commingling with the body to a minimal extent, for necessary purposes only, was so sensitive and delicate as to respond at once to what reached him”; see also Plato, Ti. 90ab, with Dillon (2001) 39–40. 20 De genio Socr. 588E–F. 21 De an. procr. 1025D. 22 See above note 7. 23 Dillon (2001). 24 Aristotle, GA 736b27–29; DA 408b18–26; 413b24–28; 429a24–429b6; 430a17–25. So too (albeit with hesitation) in Dörrie – Baltes (2002b) 233.

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

183

facilitated by the soul’s inner structure, which includes a rational and an irrational part25. According to De virtute, the Stoic theory of virtue is not sound because they neglected the inner division of the soul. They did not discern that: ὅτι δ’ αὐτῆς ἔστι τῆς ψυχῆς ἐν ἑαυτῇ σύνθετόν τι καὶ διφυὲς καὶ ἀνόμοιον, ὥσπερ ἑτέρου σώματος τοῦ ἀλόγου πρὸς τὸν λόγον ἀνάγκῃ τινὶ καὶ φύσει συμμιγέντος καὶ συναρμοσθέντος. There is some element of composition, some two-fold nature and dissimilarity of the very soul within itself, since the irrational, as though it were another substance, is mingled and joined with reason by some compulsion of nature26. While the rational half is connected with the intellect, the irrational one deals with the materiality of the human body. However, as the passage of De genio quoted above shows, the two parts should not be seen as exact halves. Depending on the individuals resisting or yielding to the influence of the body, the irrational part may either remain stable or grow and develop, finally eclipsing the rational one completely. This is due to the fact that both parts are intrinsically intermingled. As De animae procreatione puts it: “There is no part of the soul which remains pure and unmixed, or separate from the rest” (τῆς δὲ ψυχῆς οὐδὲν μὲν εἰλικρινὲς οὐδ’ ἄκρατον οὐδὲ χωρὶς ἀπολείπεται τῶν ἄλλων)27. Despite this, however, the soul’s halves are so different from each other that Plutarch can see them as responding to two different principles or ἀρχαί, namely the ‘rational principle’ (ἡ λογιστικὴ ἀρχή) and the ‘passionate principle’ (ἡ παϑητικὴ ἀρχή)28. On the one hand, the rational

25 De an. procr. 1025D: “… but the soul is a mixed and intermediate thing, even as the moon has been created by God, a compound and blend of the things above and below and therefore stands to the sun in the relation of earth to moon”. Translations of De an. procr. according to Cherniss (1976). 26 Plutarch, De virt. mor. 441DE. English translation by Helmbold (1939). 27 De an. procr. 1025D; 1026C: “There is no part of the soul which remains pure and unmixed, or separate from the rest … Nevertheless, there appears in the irrational part a turbulent and boisterous temerity; in the rational part, an orderly and well-marshalled prudence; in the sensitive part, the constraint of necessity; but in the understanding, entire and perfect command of itself. The limiting and bounding power sympathizes with the whole and the indivisible, by reason of the nearness of their relations; on the other side, the dividing power fixes itself upon particulars, by virtue of the divisible substance …”. 28 De virt. mor. 448D.

184

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

part is divine29, has intellective character30 and therefore takes the leading role and control over the complex of the soul31. Furthermore, it is impassible (ἀπαθές) and simple32. On the other hand, the irrational one is prone to the body, passible and therefore mortal33. It is further described as “variable and disorderly, and has need of a director”34. In line with Plato35, Plutarch further divides this part into two sub-sections, the appetitive one or ἐπιϑυμητικόν, which is “by nature ever willing to consort with the body and to serve the body”, and the spirited part (θυμοειδές), which may sometimes be an ally of rationality. The lower part of the triad is the body, which houses both human intellect and soul. Due to its material nature it tends to overwhelm both higher components. Plutarch sees the human body under a very dark light. Admittedly, there are in the corpus a couple of passages in which we see a positive view of the body, such as fr. 144 Sandbach highlighted by John Dillon, but in general Plutarch’s attitude is one of contempt36. The body’s material nature is determinant in this evaluation, since with its weight, disorderly nature, and needs it keeps individuals attached to materiality, inclining them to passions and posing a threat to the achievement of their τέλος. Plutarch’s view of the body is so negative that De facie conceives of incarnation both as ‘prison’ for the soul37 and as punishment for the misbehaviour of Spirits38. A fragment of his lost treatise On the Soul preserved by Stobaeus goes even further, since it equates the soul’s incarnation with its death39.

29

De an. procr. 1026E. De virt. mor. 450E. 31 De virt. mor. 442A. 32 De an. procr. 1024A and 1026D. 33 De an. procr. 1026D: ἔκ τε τῆς θνητῆς καὶ περὶ τὰ σώματα παθητῆς μερίδος; see also 1023D: τὸ παθητικὸν ὑπὸ τῶν περὶ τὸ σῶμα ποιοτήτων. See, however, Baltes (2005) 77–99 at 80 note 29. 34 De virt. mor. 442A. 35 Plato, R. 588–589. See also 439a–441a for Plato’s psychology as a conceptual background for the simile. On the origin and character of Plato’s tripartition of the soul, see Robinson (1995) 39–46 at 39–40. 36 See fr. 144 Sandbach, including a fragment of the lost treatise In Defence of Beauty. On which see Dillon (1996) 197–198. 37 De facie 926C: αὐτὴ δ’ ἡ ψυχή, πρὸς Διός’ εἶπον ‘οὐ παρὰ φύσιν τῷ σώματι συνεῖρκται βραδεῖ ταχεῖα καὶ ψυχρῷ πυρώδης, ὥσπερ ὑμεῖς φατε, καὶ ἀόρατος αἰσθητῷ; See also De an. procr. 1023C; fr. 177 Sandbach with Betz (1975) 323–324; Dörrie – Baltes (2002b) 225. 38 De facie 944C; De def. or. 417B; De Iside 361C. 39 Fr. 178, 68–93 Sandbach (Stob. V 1092, 1–25 W.-H.). See on the issue, Dörrie – Baltes (2002b) 225–226. 30

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

185

2. Macrocosmos: Plutarch’s cosmological framework As I have already explained, there is a strict correlation between man and the cosmos. The relationship between them is based on the fact that the cosmos is conceived of as a living being, an analogy which is recurrent in Moralia40. Plutarch refers in different places to the so-called cosmocentric microcosmism, the view according to which man “is conceived as not only including the diverse elements and natures of which the universe consists, but also their specific powers and mutual relations”41. Indeed, he claims that man’s constitutive elements proceed from the same elements existing in the cosmos42. In spite of Plutarch’s claims, however, his is clearly an anthropocentric microcosmism. His conception of the human being is the starting point of the cosmological views and not the other way around. As we will have the opportunity to see, Plutarch’s conception presses the analogy to its last consequence by extending the bipartition of the human soul to that of the world soul. Let us take a look at the constitution of this cosmos. In the same way that the human being consists of three parts, Plutarch postulates three coeval principles behind the constitution of the universe, namely God, the pre-cosmic soul and matter43: ὅτι, δυεῖν ὄντων ἐξ ὧν ὁ κόσμος συνέστηκε, σώματος καὶ ψυχῆς, τὸ μὲν οὐκ ἐγέννησε θεὸς ἀλλά, τῆς ὕλης παρασχομένης, ἐμόρφωσε καὶ συνήρμοσε, πέρασιν οἰκείοις καὶ σχήμασι δήσας καὶ ὁρίσας τὸ ἄπειρον. Whereas the world consists of two parts, body and soul, God indeed made not the body; but matter being at hand, he formed and fitted it, binding up and confirming what was infinite within proper limits and figures44. In addition to the ruling principle, we have two other elements explicitly referred to as body and soul. They were not created by God out of nothing, since Plutarch rejects creatio ex nihilo. Instead, God created them by imparting order on pre-existing elements: 40

Quaest. Plat. 1001B; 1002CD; De an. procr. 1013C; 1013F. See the lengthy analogy in De facie 14–15, 927E–928C. On Plato’s precedent in the Timaeus, see below note 71. 41 Allers (1944) 319–407 at 348. 42 So also, Plato, Phlb. 29b–30a, according to which the elements of the universe not only appear in us, but are also governed by them. Accordingly our human soul proceeds from the soul of the universe. 43 Quaest. Plat. 1001B. See the same basic principles also in Alcinous, Did. 168,9–15, with Dillon (1993) 118–119, who surmises the use of a common source such as Arius’ handbook in order to explain the equivalence. 44 English translation according to Cherniss (1976).

186

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

οὐ γὰρ ἐκ τοῦ μὴ ὄντος ἡ γένεσις ἀλλ’ ἐκ τοῦ μὴ καλῶς μηδ’ ἱκανῶς ἔχοντος, ὡς οἰκίας καὶ ἱματίου καὶ ἀνδριάντος. ἀκοσμία γὰρ ἦν τὰ πρὸ τῆς τοῦ κόσμου γενέσεως· ἀκοσμία δ’ οὐκ ἀσώματος οὐδ’ ἀκίνητος οὐδ’ ἄψυχος ἀλλ’ ἄμορφον μὲν καὶ ἀσύστατον τὸ σωματικὸν ἔμπληκτον δὲ καὶ ἄλογον τὸ κινητικὸν ἔχουσα· τοῦτο δ’ ἦν ἀναρμοστία ψυχῆς οὐκ ἐχούσης λόγον. For the creation was not out of nothing, but out of matter wanting beauty and perfection … For before the creation of the world there was nothing but a confused heap; yet was that confused heap neither without a body, without motion, nor without a soul? The corporeal part was without form or consistence, and the moving part stupid and headlong; and this was the disorder of a soul not guided by reason45. God imparts his intellective nature on the pre-cosmic soul, which becomes the world soul. Once endowed with rationality, the world soul is able to give form to formless matter46. It seems clear that cosmogony follows anthropology and, more precisely, ethics. God ‘creates’ the soul47 in the same way that the intellect preserves and enlarges the rational part of the soul; the world soul gives form to matter, in the same way that the human soul is able to govern the individual, once it recovers control over both body and soul by means of rationality. If we focus now on the world soul, we see that after God’s creative act, it also consists of two parts, like the human soul. On the one hand, there is the irrational part. The soul preserves traces of the pre-cosmic soul, which as a kinetic principle of chaotic matter was originally disordered, chaotic, unstable and irrational48. On the other hand, we have the rational part, which results from the ordering, creative act of the intellect, insofar as ‘creation’ here means the act by which the intellect transmits its inherent intelligibility to the pre-cosmic soul. In this sense the rational part of the soul may be considered both daughter and part of God49:

45

De an. procr. 1014B. See Quaest. Plat. 4,1003AB. On the issue, Roig Lanzillotta (2013) §2.3. 47 De an. procr. 1014B: “God neither incorporated that which is incorporeal, nor conveyed a soul into that which had none before; … God did not make the tangible and resistant solidity of the corporeal substance, nor the imaginative or moving faculties of the soul; but taking these two principles as they lay ready at hand, – the one obscure and dark, the other turbulent and senseless, both imperfect without the bounds of order and decency, – he disposed, digested, and embellished the confused mass”. 48 De an. procr. 1014C; 1015E; 1024A. 49 Quaest. Plat. 1001BC; see also De an. procr. 1014AB. On the issue Whittaker (1981) 52. 46

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

187

ἡ δὲ ψυχή, νοῦ μετασχοῦσα καὶ λογισμοῦ καὶ ἁρμονίας, οὐκ ἔργον ἐστὶ τοῦ θεοῦ μόνον ἀλλὰ καὶ μέρος, οὐδ’ ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ ἀλλ’ ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐξ αὐτοῦ γέγονεν. But the soul, partaking of mind, reason, and harmony, was not only the work of God, but part of him not only made by him, but begot by him. Rational as it is, this part of the soul is immovable, impassible and pure, and participates in the immutable50. Consequently, the world soul possesses the same parts as the human soul. Admittedly, irrationality is stronger in the latter than in the former, since it is not possible to find in man “either an emotion entirely divorced from reason or a motion of the mind in which there is present nothing of desire or ambition or rejoicing or grieving”51, but despite these differences they both consist of the same duality. Both De an. procr. and De virt. mor. claim that human soul is part and parcel of the world soul, and that consequently the former should be studied in the light of the latter52: ἥ τ’ ἀνθρώπου ψυχὴ μέρος ἢ μίμημα τῆς τοῦ παντὸς οὖσα καὶ συνηρμοσμένη κατὰ λόγους καὶ ἀριθμοὺς ἐοικότας ἐκείνοις οὐχ ἁπλῆ τίς ἐστιν οὐδ’ ὁμοιοπαθής, ἀλλ’ ἕτερον μὲν ἔχει τὸ νοερὸν καὶ λογιστικόν, ᾧ κρατεῖν τοῦ ἀνθρώ που κατὰ φύσιν καὶ ἄρχειν προσῆκόν ἐστιν, ἕτερον δὲ τὸ παθητικὸν καὶ ἄλογον καὶ πολυπλανὲς καὶ ἄτακτον ἐξεταστοῦ δεόμενον. οὗ πάλιν διχῆ μεριζομένου τὸ μὲν ἀεὶ σώματι βούλεσθαι συνεῖναι καὶ σῶμα θεραπεύειν πεφυκὸς ἐπιθυμητικὸν κέκληται, τὸ δ’ ἔστι μὲν ᾗ τούτῳ προστιθέμενον, ἔστι δ’ ᾗ τῷ λογισμῷ παρέχον ἰσχὺν ἐπὶ τοῦτο καὶ δύναμιν θυμοειδές. The soul of man, since it is a portion or a copy of the soul of the Universe and is joined together on principles and in proportions corresponding to those which govern the Universe, is not simple nor subject to similar emotions, but has as one part the intelligent and rational, whose natural duty it is to govern and rule the individual, and as another part the passionate and irrational, the variable and disorderly, which has need of a director. This second part is again subdivided into two parts, one of which, by nature ever willing to consort with the body and to serve the body, is called the appetitive; the other, which sometimes joins forces with this part and sometimes lends strength and vigour to reason, is called the spirited part.

50 51 52

De an. procr. 1023E. De an. procr. 1025D. De virt. mor. 441F–442A.

188

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

As could be expected, once the whole attains order, we find a cosmos consisting of three parts as well. This seems clear from different works, but especially from De facie (943A). Even if Xenocrates, fr. 56 (Heinze) is not free of interpretive difficulties53, Plutarch claims its testimony to support the tripartition of the cosmos into three levels, namely the sun, moon and earth54. In the physicist tone of the section, the sun occupies the highest place in the scheme due to its composition – which, according to Plato55, was a mixture of earth and fire, but according to Xenocrates a mixture of fire and the first density – the moon occupies second place and the earth the lowest position in the hierarchy56: ὁ δὲ Ξενοκράτης (fr. 56) τὰ μὲν ἄστρα καὶ τὸν ἥλιον ἐκ πυρός φησι καὶ τοῦ πρώτου πυκνοῦ συγκεῖσθαι, τὴν δὲ σελήνην ἐκ τοῦ δευτέρου πυκνοῦ καὶ τοῦ ἰδίου ἀέρος, τὴν δὲ γῆν ἐξ ὕδατος καὶ ἀέρος καὶ τοῦ τρίτου τῶν πυκνῶν· … but Xenocrates says that the stars and the sun are composed of fire and the first density, the moon of the second density and air that is proper to her, and the earth of water and air and the third kind of density. In addition to their composition, however, their hierarchy is also determined by active or passive roles played by sun, moon and earth. Once again the analogy with anthropology is clear. In fact, while the highest element only gives, the lowest only receives, but the intermediate one gives and receives at the same time57. In the same way that the soul occupies a middle position between mind and body, so the moon is placed between sun and earth: τὸ γὰρ ἄψυχον ἄκυρον αὐτὸ καὶ παθητὸν ὑπ’ ἄλλων, ὁ δὲ νοῦς ἀπαθὴς καὶ αὐτοκράτωρ, μικτὸν δὲ καὶ μέσον ἡ ψυχὴ καθάπερ ἡ σελήνη τῶν ἄνω καὶ κάτω σύμμιγμα καὶ μετακέρασμα ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ γέγονε, τοῦτον ἄρα πρὸς ἥλιον ἔχουσα τὸν λόγον ὃν ἔχει γῆ πρὸς σελήνην. 53

See Cherniss (1951) 137–158. De facie 943F–944C. 55 De facie 943F: “each of the stars as well was constructed of earth and fire bound together in a proportion by means of the two intermediate natures, for nothing, as he said, attains perceptibility that does not contain an admixture of earth and light”. 56 De facie 943F (Xenocrates, fr. 56). 57 De facie 945C: “In fact, the earth gives nothing in giving back after death all that she takes for generation, and the sun takes nothing but takes back the mind that he gives, whereas the moon both takes and gives and joins together and divides asunder in virtue of her different powers, of which the one that joins together is called Ilithyia and that which divides asunder Artemis.” 54

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

189

… the inanimate is itself powerless and susceptible to alien agents, and the mind is impassible and sovereign; but the soul is a mixed and intermediate thing, even as the moon has been created as a compound by God and blend of the things above and below, and therefore stands to the sun in the relation of earth to moon58. As a result, these three cosmic regions are associated with motion, generation, and decay, respectively, which are in turn allotted to the Three Fates – Atropos, Clotho and Lachesis59. It is interesting that in spite of claiming the support of Xenocrates, Plutarch does not adopt his allotment of Fates to the different realms60 and follows instead Plato’s distribution in the Laws61. However, as H.J. Krämer and F. Ferrari62 have pointed out, we find here the same onto-cosmology with epistemological implications as in Xenocrates, fr. 5 Heinze, which differentiates the transcendent, divine region of the intelligible (νοητή οὐσία), the astral region of opinion (δοξαστή) and the sublunary region of the perceptible (αἰσθητή). The same tripartition of being63 – also shared by Aristotle’s distinction in Metaphysics between the unmoved, the sensible imperishable and the sensible perishable64 – is at work in De genio (591B), a text in which Plutarch seems to speak of four regions instead of three, namely Life, Motion, Birth and Decay: τέσσαρες δ’ εἰσὶν ἀρχαὶ πάντων, ζωῆς μὲν ἡ πρώτη κινήσεως δ’ ἡ δευτέρα γενέσεως δ’ ἡ τρίτη φθορᾶς δ’ ἡ τελευταία· συνδεῖ δὲ τῇ μὲν δευτέρᾳ τὴν πρώτην Μονὰς κατὰ τὸ ἀόρατον, τὴν δὲ δευτέραν τῇ τρίτῃ Νοῦς καθ’ ἥλιον, τὴν δὲ τρίτην πρὸς τετάρτην Φύσις κατὰ σελήνην. τῶν δὲ συνδέσμων ἑκάστου

58

De facie 945D. De facie 944C: “In fact, the earth gives nothing …, and the sun takes nothing but takes back the mind that he gives, whereas the moon both takes and gives and joins together and divides asunder in virtue of her different powers …”. 60 According to Xenocrates, fr. 5 Heinze, as a matter of fact, Atropos presides over the intelligible and supra-celestial region, Lachesis over the opinable and celestial, Clotho finally the sensible and sublunar. 61 Plato, Legg. 960c, Lachesis, Clotho, and Atropos are named in ascending order. On the issue, see Dörrie (1954) 331–342. 62 Krämer (1964) 98, note 250; Ferrari (1995) 181–182. 63 Both Hamilton, (1934a) and, more recently, Vernière (1977) 126, find the same trichotomy in De genio Socratis. Deuse (1983) 46–47 sees the Timarchus myth as a first step towards the theory exposed in De facie. See also, in the same line, Cherniss (1968) 200–201. Against my former interpretation of the issue in Roig Lanzillotta (2011) 409 note 51, I think both myths present the same basic cosmology, and even Deuse (2010) seems to have softened his interpretation in the same direction. 64 Merlan (1976) 195–224. 59

190

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

Μοῖρα κλειδοῦχος Ἀνάγκης θυγάτηρ κάθηται, τοῦ μὲν πρώτου Ἄτροπος τοῦ δὲ δευτέρου Κλωθώ, τοῦ δὲ πρὸς σελήνην Λάχεσις, περὶ ἣν ἡ καμπὴ τῆς γενέσεως. Four principles there are of all things: the first is of life, the second of motion, the third of birth, and the last of decay; the first is linked to the second by Unity at the invisible, the second to the third by Mind at the sun, and the third to the fourth by Nature at the moon. A Fate, daughter of Necessity, holds the keys and presides over each link: over the first Atropos, over the second Clotho, and over the link at the moon Lachesis. The turning point of birth is at the moon65. The reference to the Three Fates, which are called here kleidouchoi or ‘holders of keys’, shows, in my view, that in spite of the interpreters who emphasize the fourfold character of the division, we are still dealing with the same tripartite cosmological order66. If we focus on the Fates, we see that each of them is associated with four elements. Physically, Atropos is associated with Life and Motion, cosmologically with the invisible and ontologically with the monas; Clotho is physically associated with Motion and Being, cosmologically with the sun and ontologically with the intellect; Lachesis is physically associated with Being and Decay, cosmologically with nature, and ontologically with the moon. In fact, Ferrari also interprets the cosmological framework of De genio as consisting of three parts, namely intellect, soul and body67. In addition, Dillon’s interpretation of the ‘invisible’ as the outer rim of heaven seems to lend support to this tripartite cosmos68. At the same time, the duality of the two highest principles, the monas and the intellect, might be seen as the unfolding of the intellect in a strictly divine and transcendent part outside the cosmos and its inner worldly variant at the top of it, which from a cosmological perspective is the sun, and from an anthropological one the human mind. Be that as it may, the cosmos includes the same elements as the human being. Highest in the hierarchy we find the sun, which is associated with intellect and fulfils the governing task; the moon is in the middle, associated with the soul, and, as such, regulates the good functioning of the whole; finally, there is the earth, whose disorderly and material character is associated with the body. “Then when the sun with his vital force has again sowed mind in her, she (the soul) receives it and produces

65 66 67 68

English translation according to Cherniss – Helmbold (1957). See Roig Lanzillotta (2011) 401–417 at 408–409. Ferrari (1995) 178–181. Dillon (1996) 215 and (2001) 38 note 13.

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

191

new souls, and earth in the third place furnishes body”69. This parallelism is not only based on the equivalent function of the parts. In fact, there is a genealogical relationship between the elements in man and in the cosmos: “In the composition of these three factors earth furnishes the body, the moon the soul, and the sun furnishes mind to man for the purpose of his generation, even as it furnishes light to the moon herself”70. According to the myth in De facie, once the individual dies and the human body dissolves, man’s constitutive elements return to their original realm: “As to the death we die, one death reduces man from three factors to two and another reduces him from two to one; and the former takes place in the earth …, the latter in the moon …”. 3. Conclusions It is time to draw some conclusions. To begin with, I think Plutarch’s thought is more unitary than some scholars are ready to admit. On the one hand, the three famous mythological expositions, of which I have only analysed De genio and De facie reveal clear contacts and parallels behind the manifold elements belonging to their stories. Of course, all different myths have their own particular focus, meaning and goals, but it is nevertheless possible to find a coherent conceptual background behind them. The same uniform system is also at the basis of Plutarch’s more scientific approaches, both to the cosmos and to man in De animae procreatione and in De virtute morali. Secondly, it is also important to see that Plutarch conceives of the cosmos in the light of man’s constitution. Even if Rudolf Allers exclusively highlighted the macro/microcosmos parallelism in Plutarch’s conception of the world soul, the study of his anthropology and cosmology reveals analogies in his three coeval principles before the creation of the cosmos, in the constitution of the Universe and in the conception of the character and functioning of its elementary parts. The parallel between cosmology and anthropology is pressed so far that Plutarch even develops his notion of the first and second death to describe how man’s elements return to their original region in the cosmos. As far as the type of Plutarch’s microcosmism is concerned, we can state that his microcosmism is more anthropocentric than cosmocentric. Plutarch repeatedly resorts to Plato’s view of the cosmos as a living being in the Timaeus71. However, this living being is analogically conceived on 69

De facie 945C. De facie 943B. 71 Plato, Ti. 30b7–8, “Thus, then, in accordance with the likely account, we must declare that this Cosmos has verily come into existence as a Living Creature endowed with soul and reason owing to the providence of God.” 70

192

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

the basis of man’s constitution. As is also the case with the human being, the cosmos is formed out of an intellect, a soul and a body. As Allers has pointed out, though, cosmocentric and anthropocentric microcosmism often appear closely linked to one another72. However, in Plutarch’s view the analogy between man and cosmos goes further than the simple parallelism between its components. This can be seen in the fact that both in his anthropology and cosmology his main point of interest is the middle element of the triad, namely the soul and the moon respectively. From an anthropological perspective – as the battlefield of rationality and irrationality, and of passions and temperance – the soul is of course the most interesting element, since it is the part by which virtue is achieved and the human telos attained. From a cosmological perspective, the moon is the most appealing subject, not only for its influence on the processes of generation and corruption in the sublunary region, but also and especially due to it being a turning point in the destiny of the intellect, either finally freed from the accretions of soul and body or forced to return to an earthly existence. However, the moon is also very important in Plutarch’s theological views, since it plays a pivotal role in his theodicy. As a seat of both rationality and irrationality, it is the natural place for judgement and punishment of human conduct. The parallelism between man and cosmos is once again obvious. The mixed nature and the mediating functions of soul and moon allow him to explain the existence73 of evil both on an anthropological and a cosmological level. This is, by the way, also the case with Plutarch’s conception of the world soul, the irrational part of which allows the existence of evil, imperfection and deformity in the context of creation to be explained74.

72 Allers (1944) 350: “The cosmocentric viewpoint sometimes appears linked to the anthropocentric. Because the universe is an animated being and this is taken to be the primary fact, man, being animated too, is viewed as an image or reproduction of the universe”. 73 This is in my view the reason why Plutarch does not pay much attention to the higher regions of the cosmic region either in De sera or in De genio Socratis. See Deuse (2010) 181: “In both texts then the space above the moon is not really part of the myth; the allusions to it only serve to inform the reader of the restriction of perspective. It is all the more astonishing that in the outline of cosmic hierarchy … two further spheres above the moon are mentioned (the Invisible and the Sun) but have no part at all to play in what follows. This is further proof that Plutarch wants to exclude the Invisible and the Sun as topics and alert the reader to this”. 74 De def. or. 428F: ὅτι τῶν ἀνωτάτων ἀρχῶν, λέγω δὲ τοῦ ἑνὸς καὶ τῆς ἀορίστου δυάδος, ἡ μὲν ἀμορφίας πάσης στοιχεῖον οὖσα καὶ ἀταξίας ἀπειρία κέκληται· ἡ δὲ τοῦ ἑνὸς φύσις ὁρίζουσα καὶ καταλαμβάνουσα τῆς ἀπειρίας τὸ κενὸν καὶ ἄλογον καὶ ἀόριστον ἔμμορφον παρέχεται. Text according to Babbitt (1936).

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

193

The parallel between Plutarch’s anthropology and cosmology can consequently be seen not only in the analogy of their respective constitutive elements, but also in the goal that both constitutions target. His vision of the soul as the middle point between intellect and body is based on an ethical conception of the human being and on a clear view of the goal of human life as the attainment of a life of contemplation detached from the body and the passions. His vision of the cosmos also appears to be based on the same ethical view. This can be seen in the important mediating roles played by both the world soul and the moon in cosmology and cosmogony respectively, whose intermediary position is essential for the attainment of order and intelligibility in the Universe. Plutarch’s microcosmism consequently goes so far that microcosmos and macrocosmos are conceived of as sharing the same telos, which is attained once both man and the cosmos achieve or regain the immobile, impassive and pure existence of the intellect. Lautaro Roig Lanzillotta Rijksuniversiteit Groningen Bibliography Allers, R. (1944), “Microcosmus: From Anaximander to Paracelsus”, Traditio 2, 319–407. Babbitt, F.C. (1936), Plutarch’s Moralia: in sixteen volumes, Vol. V: 351c–438e, London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). Babut, D. (1984), “Le dialogue de Plutarque ‘Sur le démon de Socrate’. Essai d’interpretation”, Bulletin de l’ Association G. Budé, 51–76. Baltes, M. (2005), “Plutarchs Lehre von der Seele”, in idem, Epinoemata. Kleine Schriften zur antiken Philosophie und homerischen Dichtung (M.-L. Lakmann ed.), Leipzig, 77–99. Cherniss, H. (1944), Aristotle’s Criticism of Plato and the Academy, Baltimore. Cherniss, H. (1951), “Notes on Plutarch’s De facie in orbe lunae”, Classical Philology 46, 137–158. Cherniss, H. (1976), Plutarch’s Moralia: in sixteen volumes, Vol. XIII, part 1: 999c–1032f, London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). Cherniss, H. – Helmbold, W.C. (1957), Plutarch’s Moralia: in sixteen volumes, Vol. XII: 920a–999b, London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). De Lacy, P.H. – Einarson, B. (1959), Plutarch’s Moralia: in sixteen volumes, Vol. VII: 523c–612b, London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). Deuse, W. (1983), Untersuchungen zur mittelplatonischen und neuplatonischen Seelenlehre, Mainz. Deuse, W. (2010), “Plutarch’s Eschatological Myths”, in H.G. Nesselrath (ed.), Plutarch. On the daimonion of Socrates, Tübingen, 169–197.

194

LAUTARO ROIG LANZILLOTTA

Dillon, J. (1993), Alcinous. The Handbook of Platonism, Oxford. Dillon, J. (2001), “Plutarch and the Separable Intellect”, in A. Pérez Jiménez – F. Casadesús, Estudios sobre Plutarco. Misticismo y religiones mistéricas, Madrid-Málaga, 35–44. Dillon, J. (21996), The Middle Platonists. A Study of Platonism 80 BC to AD 220, Ithaka. Döring, K. (1984), “Plutarch und das Daimonion des Sokrates (Plu. De genio Sokratis Kap. 20–24)”, Mnemosyne IV 37, 376–392. Dörrie, H. (1954), “Zum Ursprung der Neuplatonischen Hypostasenlehre”, Hermes 82, 331–342. Dörrie, H. – Baltes, M. (2002a), Der Platonismus in der Antike, Vol. 6.1: Die philosophische Lehre des Platonismus: von der “Seele” als der Ursache aller sinnvollen Abläufe, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt. Dörrie, H. – Baltes, M. (2002b), Der Platonismus in der Antike, Vol. 6.2: Die philosophische Lehre des Platonismus: von der “Seele” als der Ursache aller sinnvollen Abläufe, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt. Ferrari, F. (1995), Dio, idee e materia. La struttura del cosmo in Plutarco di Cheronea, Naples. Hamilton, W. (1934a), “The Myth in Plutarch’s De Facie (940F–945D)”, Classical Quarterly 28, 24–30. Hamilton, W. (1934b) “The Myth in Plutarch’s De genio (589F–592E)”, Classical Quarterly 28, 175–182. Helmbold, W.C. (1939), Plutarch’s Moralia: in sixteen volumes, Vol. VI: 439a–523b London – Cambridge, Mass. (LCL). Krämer, H.J. (1964), Der Ursprung der Geistmetaphysik. Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des Platonismus zwischen Platon und Plotin, Amsterdam. Merlan, P. (1976), “Aristotle’s Unmoved Movers”, in F. Merlan (ed.), Kleine Schriften, Hildesheim. Nikolaidis, A.G. (ed.) (2008), The Unity of Plutarch’s Work: “Moralia” Themes in the “Lives”, Features of the “Lives” in the “Moralia”, Berlin. Robinson, T.M. (1995), Plato’s Psychology, Toronto. Roig Lanzillotta, L. (2011), “Plutarch of Chaeronea and the Gnostic Worldview: Middle Platonism and the Nag Hammadi Library”, in Candau Morón, J.M. – González Ponce, F.J. – Chávez Reino, A.L. (eds.), Plutarco como Transmisor. Actas del Simposio internacional de la sociedad española de Plutarquistas. Sevilla, 12–14 de noviembre de 2009, Seville, 401–417. Roig Lanzillotta, L. (2013), “Dios como padre y artífice en Moralia de Plutarco”, in de Navascués, P. – Crespo, M. – Sáez, A. (eds.), Filiación. Cultura pagana, religión de Israel, orígenes del cristianismo. Volumen V, Madrid, 139–156.

PLUTARCH’S ANTHROPOLOGY

195

Russel, D.A. (2010), “Introduction”, in Nesselrath, H.G. (ed.), Plutarch. On the daimonion of Socrates, Tübingen, 3–15. Stenzel, J. (1931), Metaphysik des Altertums, München. Ueberweg, F. – Praechter, K. (1926), Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie, Vol. 1: Die Philosophie des Altertums, Berlin. Vernière, Y. (1977), Symboles et mythes dans la pensée de Plutarque: essai d’interprétation philosophique et religieuse des Moralia, Paris. Whittaker, J. (1981), “Plutarch, Platonism and Christianity”, in Blumenthal, H.J. – Markus, R.A. (eds.), Neoplatonism and Early Christian Thought. Essays in Honour of A.H. Armstrong, London, 50–63. Zeller, E. (41903), Die Philosophie der Griechen in ihrer geschichtlichen Entwicklung, vol. III/2: Die nacharistotelische Philosophie, zweite Hälfte, Leipzig.

IV. COMPOSITIONAL TECHNIQUE AND STYLE

From Chaos to Cosmos (and Back Again) Plato’s Timaeus and the Composition of De animae procreatione and De facie in orbe lunae* BRAM DEMULDER It has often and rightly been stated that, of all philosophers, Plato occupies the most important place in Plutarch’s work and that, of all Platonic dialogues, the Timaeus is most often referred to1. Any attempt to provide a full account of Plutarch’s interpretation of Plato’s main text on natural philosophy in a single paper would obviously not have a chance of yielding a “likely story” (εἰκὼς μῦθος) and would thus be in grave disharmony with the Platonic text at hand2. Therefore, I will confine myself to examples taken from two texts, keeping in mind a distinction recently drawn in an excellent discussion of the Platonic dialogues in Plutarch’s oeuvre:

* I would like to thank Geert Roskam for turning some chaotic thoughts from this paper into cosmos (although any remaining chaos is due to my own demiurgic deficiency), Jan Opsomer for kindly sending me his inspiring article on Plutarch’s De facie ahead of print and Liesbeth Schulpé for correcting my English. The translations of De animae procreatione and De facie are Cherniss’, sometimes with slight modifications. 1 E.g. Hershbell (1987) 235 (with references to earlier scholarship in n. 3); Froidefond (1987) 201; Ferrari (2004) 225–226 and 233–235. 2 On Timaeus’ account being, just like any account involving natural philosophy, neither more nor less than a “likely story” (Ti. 29d), see recently Brisson (2012) and Grasso (2012), two responses to Burnyeat’s (2005) seminal paper. A similar evaluation of the status of natural philosophy is prominent in Plutarch’s oeuvre as well, cf. Donini (1992), who emphasizes its presence in De defectu oraculorum and the Quaestiones convivales and Opsomer (forthc.), who points out the fallibilistic epistemological framework of the first part of De facie in orbe lunae (cf. also Baldassarri (1992); Ferrari (1995) 154–156; Donini (2011) 138).

200

BRAM DEMULDER

De façon générale, il est possible, dans l’ œuvre philosophique de Plutarque, d’établir une distinction entre deux types d’ écrits: ceux dont l’objectif est de commenter directement un dialogue ou une section de dialogue de Platon et ceux qui tentent d’ établir une position propre à Plutarque, notamment à l’aide de Platon3. Plutarch’s De animae procreatione is assigned – evidently, it would seem – to the first category. The second category is not clearly defined, but we can safely assume that a text such as De facie in orbe lunae (henceforth De facie) would be a suitable example4. It is the use of the Timaeus in these two works that is considered in this paper. I start with some general observations which will serve as a framework for a case study revolving around a quotation from Timaeus 53b occurring in both Plutarchean texts. It will be argued that, although the distinction mentioned above is formally justified and certainly useful for purposes of classification, it risks obscuring a more fundamental unity in Plutarch’s thought and, consequently, in his exegetical and compositional method5. 1. Selection, arrangement and function 1.1 Looking at both texts globally, one immediately gets the impression that Plutarch adopted different methods of selecting and arranging the Timaeus passages he used6. The main issue in De animae procreatione is the interpretation of Timaeus 35a–b (for the first part) and 35b–36b (for the second part): these two passages are quoted in their entirety as prefaces to the respective parts. In other words: in this work, Plutarch is mainly concerned with a very small section of the Timaeus, viz. the passage in

3 Brouillette – Giavatto (2010) 5 (emphasis in the original). The distinction is repeated at p. 9. 4 Brouillette – Giavatto (2010) 7–9 themselves discuss the comparable case of De defectu oraculorum as an example of the second category. It should be clarified here that I do not want to argue that any position taken in De facie – not even that of Plutarch’s brother Lamprias – entirely coincides with Plutarch’s view. Cf. Donini (2011) 11–12 n. 10; Opsomer (forthc.) n. 44. More generally speaking I take it to be the main characteristic of the philosophical dialogues falling under the second category distinguished by Brouillette and Giavatto that Plutarch is developing positions himself (rather than his own positions per se) with the aid of Plato’s text. 5 This is not denied – and perhaps even suggested – by Brouillette – Giavatto (2010) 9. 6 The most reliable list of Platonic quotations in the Moralia is Giavatto (2010). The present paper is very much indebted to this work.

FROM CHAOS TO COSMOS (AND BACK AGAIN)

201

which Plato explains the composition of the world soul and its subsequent division into harmonic intervals. Although numerous other passages from the dialogue are adduced and it is once referred to as a whole (1017B: πᾶν τὸ σύγγραμμα), this is always with an eye to the key passage and the exegetical questions it entails. Never is it Plutarch’s intention to comment on the entire scope of the Timaeus7; the focus is on a single passage that must have been particularly important to Plutarch’s thought8. At the same time the project undertaken in De animae procreatione goes well beyond the Timaeus: several other Platonic dialogues are adduced in order to show that, when we follow Plutarch’s interpretation of the Timaeus passage in point, there is no reason to suspect Plato of contradicting himself. As opposed to the concentric pattern of the Timaeus passages in De animae procreatione (i.e. centred around Ti. 35a–36b), the references in De facie reveal a linear pattern, which more or less mirrors the plan of the Timaeus itself (see table 1). In the Timaeus, Plato first discusses the works of reason before tackling the effects of irrational necessity. In De facie, Plutarch seems to read the Timaeus back to front, discussing chaos before cosmos. Enclosing the other Timaeus passages are references to two loci (Ti. 53b and 31b–32c respectively) which are closely connected (e.g. in De an. procr. 1016E–1017A) and mark the general orientation from chaos to cosmos. By the last reference we find ourselves in Sulla’s myth, the climax of the dialogue. This myth is in itself an imitation, even a miniature version of the Timaeus, as has been pointed out by W. Hamilton9. Concerning the selection of Timaeus passages in both works of Plutarch, it may be interesting to note that not a single reference is made to the Timaeus past Stephanus page 56. In other words: only rather more than half the Timaeus is taken into account. In fact, Plutarch stops where – at least, in our modern view – the real natural philosophy starts: he does not consider Plato’s account on the transformations and compounds of the primary bodies, on sensation and the other passions, and on the cooperation of reason and necessity.

7

See Ferrari – Baldi (2002) 12–16 on the place of De an. procr. within the tradition of Spezialkommentare, commentaries on a limited portion of a certain text, cf. also Ferrari (2000). 8 Cf. De an. procr. 1012B and Quaest. plat. 1003A, where Plutarch refers to his many (πολλάκις) earlier discussions of this specific topic. 9 Hamilton (1934).

202

BRAM DEMULDER Table 1. Plato’s Timaeus in Plutarch’s De facie

De facie Ti. 926F 927C 928A 928B

930C 937E 938E 943F

53b 41b 48a 45b

pre-cosmic state of the universe: 4 elements in disorder bonds of λόγος are stronger than bonds of φύσις/ἀνάγκη

logical arrangement shows itself in the order of the cosmos: stars = radiant eyes; sun = heart; earth and sea = bowels and bladder [Plutarch aptly supplements Plato, who only talks about the rational structure of the micro-cosmic (i.e. human) body in this passage of the Timaeus, with macro-cosmic parallels.] 46bc mirror images 40bc purpose of the earth: “nurse, strict guardian and artificer 40bc of night and day” 31b–32c cosmic state of the universe: proportioning of the 4 elements

1.2 When looking at the function of the Timaeus quotations, we again find different approaches in De animae procreatione and De facie – approaches, we might add, corresponding to the choices made regarding selection and arrangement of the passages. The strategy adopted in De animae procreatione is clear enough. Plutarch accuses previous philosophers of promoting their own doctrines in their interpretations of the Timaeus. He himself expresses the desire to put conformity with Plato front and centre instead (1013B). The way to accomplish this turns out to be a literal interpretation of the text, an investigation into what Plato really wrote. Proof of the validity of such interpretation is that it complies with the presupposition that Plato never contradicts himself (1015B)10. Straightforward as all this may seem, one cannot neglect that Plutarch is taking pride in his polemical stance and his consciously original solution to Plato’s apparent inconsistency, which he indicates are the reasons for writing the work in the first place (1012B). Nor can one deny that quotations from Platonic dialogues are often decontextualized, adapted or conveniently overlooked11. In other words: we should not overlook

10 See esp. Opsomer (2004) on De an. procr. as a search for Platonic consistency. Cf. also Hershbell (1987) 240–241. 11 I do, however, agree with Opsomer (2004), contra Cherniss (1976), that we should not address these issues in terms of malicious manipulation.

FROM CHAOS TO COSMOS (AND BACK AGAIN)

203

the fact that, by choosing to let Plato speak in De animae procreatione, which he very often does, Plutarch is always speaking himself as well. Conversely, it could be argued that, in the writings in which Plutarch at first sight seems to develop mere positions of his own using Platonic references, he is at the same time trying to increase his readers’ affinity with the Platonic dialogues per se. While in De animae procreatione the main theme of the Timaeus (viz. the visible world) plays a small and subsidiary role (e.g. the cosmic body is only discussed in order to explain parallel features of the cosmic soul, as will appear from our case-study), it is much more prominent in De facie, where issues such as the mechanism of vision, the working of mirrors, the likeliness of physics and – obviously – the positions and properties of the planets are discussed at length. Moreover, the combination of science and myth is a characteristic shared by the Timaeus and De facie, which is entirely absent from De animae procreatione12. In the case of De facie, then, we should keep in mind that the observation that Plutarch is developing his own positions does not entail that Plato’s own voice is stifled. 1.3 This general sketch of Plutarch’s use of the Timaeus in De animae procreatione and De facie may nuance the clear-cut distinction between works in which Plutarch directly comments on Plato’s writings and works in which he uses Plato’s text merely in order to develop his own position. De animae procreatione certainly has the characteristics of a commentary, but its focus on an issue so important to Plutarch personally, its declaration of originality and its polemical nature suggest that the development of Plutarch’s own position is at stake as well13. On the other hand, although De facie undoubtedly shows Plutarch developing positions of his own, the selection, arrangement and function of Timaeus passages used in this work seem to yield a more faithful and complete picture of the Platonic dialogue overall, as opposed to the rather narrow focus of De animae procreatione. The distinction between commentary and development of own philosophical positions is fundamentally problematic in the case of Plutarch – as it is, I think, in ancient philosophy in general. 2. A hypomnema involving Timaeus 53b? 2.1 The general observations made in the previous paragraphs can be further explored in a case study on the use of Timaeus 53b in both 12

On this subject see Taub (2008) 70–76. Interestingly, the second part of De an. procr. which, according to Cherniss (1976) 135, “contains little that is original”, comprises far less Timaeus quotations than the first part, which distinguishes itself by its originality (i.e. 54 vs. 5 references, counting both – in Giavatto’s (2010) 131 terminology – “citation[s] à peu près fidèle[s]” and “citation[s] moins proche[s] du texte d’ origine”). Thus, there seems to be no correlation between adherence to Plato’s text and absence of originality. 13

204

BRAM DEMULDER

Plutarchean texts. In Timaeus 52d–53c Plato gives a description of chaos, i.e. the state of the universe before the demiurge set about his work. In this pre-cosmic state, the four elements (fire, water, earth and air) were there, though without proportion or measure (53a: ἀλόγως καὶ ἀμέτρως). “They were indeed in the condition one would expect thoroughly god-forsaken things to be in” (53b: παντάπασί γε μὴν διακείμενα ὥσπερ εἰκὸς ἔχειν ἅπαν ὅταν ἀπῇ τινος θεός; tr. Zeyl). It is important to keep in mind that, generally speaking, both ancient and modern interpreters assume that this impression of the pre-cosmic state of affairs is part of Plato’s pedagogical approach. By most readers, as Plutarch was well aware, Plato is taken to describe the generation of the cosmos as happening once upon a time for theoretical purposes (De an. pr. 1013A: θεωρίας ἕνεκα; cf. 1017B) and in order to make his account less difficult to grasp (1013B)14. However, some Platonists – “dissentients”, as Cornford calls them – assumed that there actually was a pre-cosmic state of the universe15. The most notable among them was Plutarch16. Plutarch’s dissentient stance is the key to the interpretation of the Timaeus he presents in De animae procreatione. To his mind, a precosmic soul has to be assumed in order to explain the existence of evil in the world. After all, inert matter cannot be the cause of evil, nor can evil be the work of the demiurge. The only remaining possible cause is a precosmic soul (1015B–C). That this is the correct solution to the problem is proved, as has already been mentioned, by the fact that it resolves a Platonic inconsistency: Plato called the soul “unsubject to generation” (ἀγένητος) in the Phaedrus (1016A–C), even though he stated in the Timaeus that it was generated. Plutarch goes on to equate Plato’s ungenerated soul, as described in the Phaedrus, with his pre-cosmic soul and Plato’s generated soul, as described in the Timaeus, with the soul generated when the demiurge introduced intelligence, reason and rational concord in the pre-cosmic soul (1016C). Plutarch justifies this equation by referring to the body of the universe, which, according to his interpretation, is described as both ungenerated and generated in the Timaeus itself (1016D–F). Here, we stumble upon the description of chaos in Timaeus 52d–53c and, more specifically, the mention of the “condition one would expect thoroughly god-forsaken things to be in” (Ti. 53b)17. It is beyond doubt that, in De animae procreatione, 14

Cherniss (1976) 168–169 n. c lists the parallel passages in other authors. Cornford (1937) 26. 16 This paragraph is, of course, a blatantly simplified account of the matter. On the question of the existence of a pre-cosmic state and the literal creation of the cosmos, see esp. Baltes (1976). 17 Thévenaz (1938) 22 n. 92 thus rightly stated that “dans tout ce passage, Plutarque applique aussi à l’ âme ce que Platon ne disait que du corps”. 15

FROM CHAOS TO COSMOS (AND BACK AGAIN)

205

this condition should be understood as the state in which both pre-cosmic matter and pre-cosmic soul are present, only the intelligence and order introduced by the demiurge being absent18. This is clear from the general interpretation defended in the treatise and even more so from the direct context in which the Timaeus passage is quoted: right before (1016C) and after (1017A) the description of the pre-cosmic body of the universe the existence of a pre-cosmic soul is emphasized. Let us now turn to the mention of the same Timaeus passage in De facie. The context is different, though not entirely unrelated. Instead of discussing the soul of the universe, the interlocutors are discussing the body of the moon. Instead of proving Plato’s consistency, the speaker (Plutarch’s brother Lamprias) is trying to prove the inconsistency of the Stoics. In an elaborated speech he points out that their doctrine of natural location of the elements (presented in 924B) is “inconsistent with the facts” (926B: μαχόμενον τοῖς πράγμασι), for there are many examples of substances not being in their natural location. Lamprias mentions (1) the fire of the Etna, unnaturally located below earth, (2) the air which is confined in skins – one could think of something like a buoy – and is thus prevented from making its natural, upward motion, (3) the soul, confined in the body, and (4) the Stoic Zeus, having become everything and thus everywhere after the transformation of his original, fiery nature (926C–D). The difficulties involved in this last example will be addressed later on19. Lamprias’ provocative conclusion is that Stoic philosophy, by defending the doctrine of natural location, runs the risk of “contriving a dissolution of the cosmos” (διάλυσίν τινα κόσμου φιλοσοφῇς20). After all, they try to separate the four elements, thus recreating the “strife (νεῖκος) of Empedocles”21 (926E). The remark is as clever as it is rude: Lamprias’ suggestion seems to be that Stoic philosophy is so primitive that it is stuck in a pre-cosmic state22. The only philosophy able to account for the 18

Cf. Cherniss (1976) 206–207 n. a. On this passage, see esp. Görgemanns (1970) 98–105, as well as the contribution of Aurelio Pérez-Jiménez to this volume. 20 Cf. Aristotle’s criticism of the doctrine (adhered to by Plutarch) that the world was generated: “He [i.e. Aristotle] used to say in mockery (we are told) that in the past he had been afraid for his house lest it be destroyed by violent winds or by fierce storms or by time or by lack of proper maintenance, but that now a greater fear hung over him, from those who by an argument were destroying the whole world” (fr. 18 Rose = Philo, De aet. mundi 10–11; tr. Barnes – Lawrence). 21 On Plutarch’s use of Empedocles in this passage, see Santaniello (2005). 22 It should be pointed out that Lamprias’ playful rudeness is a typical character trait, both in De facie and in other Plutarchean works in which he appears (cf. e.g. Quaest. conv. 726D, where he is portrayed as ὑβριστὴς […] καὶ φιλόγελως φύσει). 19

206

BRAM DEMULDER

generation on the cosmos, on the other hand, will evidently turn out to be Plato’s. It is in his description of Empedocles’ νεῖκος that Lamprias mentions “the state in which, according to Plato, everything is from which God is absent” (926F: οὕτως εἶχον ὡς ἔχει πᾶν οὗ θεὸς ἄπεστι κατὰ Πλάτωνα). This time, Plutarch’s wording differs slightly from Plato’s, but the reference to Timaeus 53b is unmistakable. Interestingly, Plutarch adds an explanation right after this paraphrase: the state just described is the state “in which bodies are when mind and soul are wanting” (926F: τουτέστιν ὡς ἔχει τὰ σώματα νοῦ καὶ ψυχῆς ἀπολιπούσης)23. The pre-cosmic soul, the pièce de résistance of Plutarch’s Timaeus interpretation as it is set out in De animae procreatione, is entirely absent here. This is all the more striking if we take into account the words just before the Timaeus reference, where Plutarch describes the four elements in their pre-cosmic state “moving with their own peculiar and arbitrary motions” (926F: φερόμεναι φορὰς ἰδίας καὶ αὐθάδεις). The mention of precosmic movement almost begs for the mention of a pre-cosmic soul: without soul there can be no movement24. This suggests that, in De facie, not only is Plutarch keeping silent about his particular interpretation of the Timaeus, he even seems to abandon his distinctive interpretative methodology, i.e. his literal reading of Plato’s text. After all, in De animae procreatione, Plutarch accuses the non-literalistic interpreters of the Timaeus of being “utterly mistaken” (1013B: διαμαρτάνειν) and of promoting their own doctrines instead of Plato’s (ibid.)25.

23

Plutarch’s choice of the word ἀπολιπούσης instead of e.g. ἀπούσης is to be understood metaphorically: Lamprias is speaking ‘in reverse’, accusing the Stoics of ‘undoing’ the cosmos. 24 Cornford (1937) 203: “It is now generally agreed that this disorderly condition can never have existed by itself at a time before order was introduced. Bodily motion cannot exist without a soul to cause it.” The locus classicus for this doctrine is Plato, Phdr. 245c–246a. Cf. De an procr. 1015E with Cherniss (1976) 196–197 n. d. One could of course try and explain the passage under discussion by arguing that the absent soul mentioned here is the world soul as forged by the demiurge, not the pre-cosmic soul. Even if this interpretation is granted, the problem remains that Plutarch does not clarify this and that, since the pre-cosmic soul is “soul in itself” according to De an. procr. (1014E), the reader familiar with Plutarch’s general philosophical outlook cannot be blamed for being at a loss here. 25 I am not concerned with the relative chronology of the two treatises under discussion. We know very little about when they are written (De facie after the dramatic date, i.e. ca. 75 CE; De an. procr. after 90 CE given the fact that Plutarch’s sons are considered to be capable of understanding the treatise). As has already been pointed out, Plutarch mentions that De an. procr. presents an interpretation he had often presented in public, from which we can infer that he must have held it for some time before writing it down. Consequently, the chronology does not matter for our current purposes.

FROM CHAOS TO COSMOS (AND BACK AGAIN)

207

We can only speculate about the reasons why Plutarch chose to omit his particular interpretation of the Timaeus here. Was it because he wanted to avoid inserting a digression on the matter? Mentioning the pre-cosmic soul en passant without any further explanation would have been problematic, for Plutarch knew very well that his interpretation was in “opposition to most of the Platonists” (De an. procr. 1012B) and that it probably would not have been understood, let alone accepted, by readers of De facie not familiar with his other work. After all, the nuance of his Timaeus interpretation is not needed here. The only point Lamprias has to make is that the Stoics are deficient in reducing the cosmos to merely physical factors; whether the other relevant factors are due to νοῦς or to ψυχή is not of the essence here26. In other words: the context of the quotation of Timaeus 53b is the refutation of a false philosophical view, not, as it was in De animae procreatione, the establishment of a right one27. Moreover – and this second element is compatible with the previous one – the lack of nuance may well seem appropriate once we consider the dialogical context and the fact that Lamprias is speaking. Is it possible that Plutarch did not want to put his proudly original interpretation, his brainchild, in the mouth of (the character of) his smart though notoriously scoffing brother28? 2.2 The versatility of the interpretation of Timaeus 53b notwithstanding, the quotations seem to be surrounded by similar material both in De animae procreatione and in De facie. This becomes even more clear when we link our passage from the 9th chapter of De animae procreatione (1016C–1017B) to the 27th chapter of the treatise (1026A–E). Both chapters, which similarly describe the pre-cosmic state of the universe and the subsequent generation of the cosmos, contain numerous recurring elements (see table 2). Beginning and ending both with a reference to harmony or the absence of it, they depict the disorderly motion of the pre-cosmic state, then taken over by god who used number to introduce form to soul and thus made it rational. The result is a state of φιλία. In De animae procreatione chapter 27 Plutarch refers directly to this Empedoclean cosmic principle; in chapter 9 he cites Timaeus’ reference to φιλία (Ti. 32b–c)29.

26

Cf. Donini (2011) 275–276 n. 117 and 279 n. 125. Another case of Plutarch seemingly abandoning his own views as set out in De an. procr. and reverting to a more generally accepted Platonic interpretation because of the context is Quaest. conv. 720B–C, cf. Opsomer (2004) 149 n. 54. 28 Cf. De def. or. where Timaeus 53b is interpreted in the same way as in De facie and where the speaker is, once again, Lamprias. 29 Generally, modern scholars assume that Timaeus’ mention of φιλία is inspired by 27

208

BRAM DEMULDER Table 2. De animae procreatione on the pre-cosmic state of the universe

De an. pr. 9 (1016C–1017B)

De an. pr. 27 (1026A–E)

1. + 7 pre-cosmic soul = causing jangling (πλημμελῶς) and disorderly motion (κινοῦσαν) (cf. Ti. 30a) 2. cosmic soul = ὁ θεὸς […] ἔμφρονα ἀπεργασάμενος 3. introduction of εἶδος

7. ἁρμονία and μέλος

1. pre-cosmic body = in disorderly motion (κινούμενον) (paraphrase Ti. 30a) 4. cosmic body = god takes over (παραλαβόντα) and regulates (paraphrase continued)

8. regulation of the body, first ἀλόγως καὶ ἀμέτρως, with figures and numbers (εἴδεσι καὶ ἀριθμοῖς) (quotation Ti. 53a–b) 5. φιλία arose from the combination of the 4 elements (Ti. 32b–c) 6. ὁμοιότητος

3. introduction of εἶδος … 1. … in the divisible and omnifarious character of motion (κινήσεως) [i.e. the pre-cosmic soul, cf. 1014D] 4. comprehension (συλλαβοῦσα) …

8. + 2 + 6 … of sameness and difference with the aid of the similarities and dissimilarities of numbers (ὁμοιότησι καὶ ἀνομοιότησιν ἀριθμῶν ὁμολογίαν ἀπεργεσαμένων) 2. cosmos: ἔμφρων …

7. … καὶ ἁρμονία 5. φιλία opposed to νεῖκος (Empedocles)

1. disorderly motion (ἀτάκτου φορᾶς) 7. harmony (διαρμοσάμενος) 8. regulation of the soul with numbers and ratios (ἀριθμοῖς καὶ λόγοις)

Empedocles (cf. e.g. Taylor (1928) 99; Cornford (1937) 44 n. 4). However, examination of the evidence inevitably leads to aporia, as has been concluded by Hershbell (1974) 150: “In sum, it is difficult to find any clear verbal resemblances between Timaeus’ account of the cosmos and Empedocles’ description of the pre-cosmic Sphere. Perhaps Timaeus was thinking specifically of Empedocles, and his views are a ‘correction’ of the latter; such a possibility can be neither categorically denied nor confidently affirmed.” (See p. 148 for his discussion of this specific passage.)

FROM CHAOS TO COSMOS (AND BACK AGAIN)

209

We can thus take these two passages from De animae procreatione together in comparing them to the material from De facie30. The results of the comparison are presented in table 3. These parallels suggest Plutarch might have leaned on a hypomnema, a “rough draft” taking the form of a “more or less elaborate train of thought, involving material previously gathered and certainly written in full syntactical sentences”31. I imagine the train of thought in question to involve a reflection on the pre-cosmic state, with Timaeus 53b at the heart of Plutarch’s contemplation of the subject. The analysis of recurring textual clusters in the corpus plutarcheum, supposedly going back to the same hypomnema, provides us with an insight in Plutarch’s compositional methods. More specifically, the hypomnematic phase of his workflow helps to explain how the same textual material can occur in different contexts with different functions. What, then, does the recurring cluster presented in table 3 tell us? Table 3. Traces of a hypomnema involving Timaeus 53b? De facie 12–13 (926C–927D)

De an. procr. 9

De an. procr. 27

A. Stoic Zeus (ὁ Ζεὺς ὑμῖν): sequence of singularity (ἕν ἐστι) and plurality (πᾶν χρῆμα γεγονὼς καὶ γιγνόμενος ἐν ταῖς μεταβολαῖς) B. dissolution of the cosmos = Empedocles’ νεῖκος

C. πλημμελῶς

C. ἁρμονία and μέλος

E. disorderly motion (κινοῦσαν) combined with stable soul (τῆς μονίμου [ψυχῆς]) H. ἀπεργασάμενος (ἔμφρονα καὶ τεταγμένην [ψυχήν]) E. disorderly motion (κινούμενον) G. god takes over the pre-cosmic body (παραλαβόντα)

E. divisible and omnifarious character of motion (κινήσεως)

C. ἀκοσμίαν καὶ πλημμελείαν D. 4 elements not combined (Empedocles) E. unorderly motion of the elements (φερόμεναι φορὰς ἰδίας καὶ αὐθάδεις) 30

G. comprehension (συλλαβοῦσα) of sameness and difference H. ἀπεργεσαμένων C. ἁρμονία

Cf. De tranq. an. chapters 7–8 and 14–15 with Broecker (1954) 136–138 for another example of closely connected material that has ended up in separate parts of the final text. 31 Van der Stockt (1999) 595, which is the seminal article on the subject of cluster analysis and Plutarch’s hypomnemata. For a discussion of Plutarch’s hypomnematic practice applied to his works of natural philosophy, see Meeusen (2012).

210

BRAM DEMULDER Table 3. Traces of a hypomnema involving Timaeus 53b? (cont.)

De facie 12–13 (926C–927D)

De an. procr. 9

De an. procr. 27

F. the state from which god is absent (Ti. 53b)

D. 4 elements not combined (cf. Ti. 53b)

B’. affection arose (φιλότης, cf. Empedocles, Parmenides, Hesiod) G. interchanging (μεταλαβόντα) of functions

F. the state from which god is absent (Ti. 53b)

B. Empedocles: φιλία and νεῖκος (cf. Heraclitus, Parmenides, Anaxagoras, Zoroaster) A. Euripidean Zeus: either ἀνάγκη or νοῦς ↔ Plutarch: ἀνάγκη καὶ νοῦς

E. regulation of motion (τὰ μὲν κινήσεως τὰ δὲ μονῆς) C. ἁρμονία H. ἀπεργάστηται (ἁρμονίαν καὶ κοινωνίαν) A. Stoic Zeus corrected in Platonic terms: πατὴρ καὶ δημιουργός

B. affection arose from the combination of the 4 elements (Ti. 32b–c: φιλία) E. disorderly motion (ἀτάκτου φορᾶς) A. god = πατὴρ καὶ δημιουργός C. harmony (διαρμοσάμενος)

Keeping in mind the context sketched earlier, it is clear why Plutarch thought of Timaeus 53b while writing the passage of De facie under discussion. The Stoic doctrine of natural location, separating “all that is heavy and all that is light” (De facie 926E: τὸ βαρὺ […] τὸ κοῦφον), is compared to the “dissolution of the cosmos”, which is characterized in Timaeus 53a by the phenomenon that “the heavy, dense material goes one way, while the light, flimsy material goes and settles elsewhere” (τὰ μὲν πυκνὰ καὶ βαρέα ἄλλῃ, τὰ δὲ μανὰ καὶ κοῦφα εἰς ἑτέραν ἵζει φερόμενα ἕδραν). However, it is less obvious why Plutarch wanted to mention the example of the Stoic Zeus before leading up to the mention of Timaeus 53b. In fact, the example might strike the reader as rather unconvincing, or at least unsatisfying. The Stoic opinion that Zeus is sequentially “single, a great and continuous fire”, i.e. when the cosmos is in a state of ἐκπύρωσις, and “transformed, having become and continuing to become everything in the course of his mutations”, i.e. when the cosmos is in a state of διακόσμησις,

FROM CHAOS TO COSMOS (AND BACK AGAIN)

211

is not nearly as clear an example of the doctrine of natural place as the previous instances32. My suggestion is that this example might be taken from the hypomnema on the pre-cosmic state which Plutarch supposedly used for writing this passage, as is suggested by the mention of Zeus in the parallel passage from De animae procreatione. There, after having described the transition from pre-cosmic to cosmic state, Plutarch – in the dualistic tone which is prominent in this chapter – criticizes Euripides’ conception of Zeus. In the Troades (886), Euripides has Hecuba exclaiming: “Zeus, whether natural necessity (ἀνάγκη) or the intelligence (νοῦς) of mortal men.” Plutarch’s point is of course that Euripides should have used a conjunction instead of a disjunction: “the power that pervades all things is both necessity and intelligence” (De an. procr. 1026C). A similar Platonic criticism could be applied to the Stoic conception of Zeus: he – i.e. the Stoic representation of the world soul – cannot be either singularity (i.e. monadic) or plurality (i.e. dyadic). At any time he has to be both33. Plutarch might have found this criticism in his hypomnema involving Timaeus 53b and inserted it in adapted form in De facie, thus more or less smoothly connecting the previous section of De facie with the section on the pre-cosmic state, based on the hypomnema. At the end of the De facie passage, Plutarch, “beginning and ending with Zeus” like Hesiod (Th. 48) would have wanted, aptly replaces the Stoic Zeus with the Platonic demiurge, described in terms which appear in De animae procreatione chapter 9. The connection between the example of the Stoic Zeus in De facie and the material in De animae procreatione is further suggested by Plutarch’s mocking the Stoics in De animae procreatione chapter 27. There, Plutarch clearly uses Stoic terminology (conjunction, disjunction and the power that pervades all things) and employs the Stoic method of ἐπανόρθωσις to interpret the Euripides verse in order to explain his anti-Stoic dualism. As Babut observed: “Plutarque s’amus[e] à traduire la these dualiste qu’ il fait la sienne et prétend retrouver […] dans le langage même du monisme stoïcien”34. One could argue that the practice of ἐπανόρθωσις, of which Plutarch remarks at the beginning of De animae procreatione chapter 9 that it is not needed in order to understand Plato’s work (1016C), is also ironically used in the De facie passage, i.e. in the rectification of the Stoic understanding of Zeus.

32 Cf. Plutarch’s criticism of this Stoic doctrine in De Stoic. rep. 1051E–1052D and the discussion of this passage in Dillon (2002) 223–224. 33 Cf. De an. procr. 1024D: the soul is a mixture of the one and the dyad. 34 Babut (1969) 141.

212

BRAM DEMULDER

3. Concluding remark Consideration of the hypomnematic provenance of the material used by Plutarch in different works adapted to different contexts suggests that there is a compositional and, a fortiori, a philosophical stratum underlying the formal distinction between commentary texts and texts in which Plutarch uses Plato in order to develop his own positions, as the general observations had led us to suspect. In the hypomnematic phase of Plutarch’s workflow there could not have been a place for such a distinction. Plutarch must have been commenting while developing his own positions, and developing his own positions while commenting. Accordingly, his texts deserve to be questioned from a similar, unitary perspective which allows for different formal manifestations35. That the same material, from the same provenance, occurs in both De animae procreatione and De facie should thus not come as a surprise after all. Bram Demulder KU Leuven / Research Foundation – Flanders (FWO) Bibliography Babut, D. (1969), Plutarque et le stoïcisme, Paris. Baldassarri, M. (1992), “Condizioni e limiti della scienza fisica nel De facie plutarcheo”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo. Genova – Bocca di Magra, 22–25 aprile 1991, Genova, 263–269. Baltes, M. (1976), Die Weltentstehung des platonischen Timaios nach den antiken Interpreten. Teil I, Leiden (Philosophia Antiqua 30). Brisson, L. (2012), “Why Is the Timaeus Called an Eikôs Muthos and an Eikôs Logos?”, in Collobert, C. – Destrée, P. – Gonzalez, F.J. (eds.), Plato and Myth. Studies on the Use and Status of Platonic Myths, Leiden – Boston (Mnemosyne Supplements 337), 369–391. Broecker, H. (1954), Animadversiones ad Plutarchi libellum ΠΕΡΙ ΕΥΘΥΜΙΑΣ, Bonn. Brouillette, X. – Giavatto, A. (2010), “Les dialogues platoniciens chez Plutarque. Une introduction”, in Brouillette, X. – Giavatto, A. (eds.), Les dialogues platoniciens chez Plutarque. Stratégies et méthodes exégétiques, Leuven (Ancient and Medieval Philosophy, Ser. I, 43), 1–25. Burnyeat, M. (2005), “ΕΙΚΩΣ ΜΥΘΟΣ”, Rhizai 2, 143–165. Cherniss, H. (1976), Plutarch. Moralia. Volume XIII, Part I, with an English Translation, London – Cambridge (MA) (LCL). Cherniss, H. – Helmbold, W.C. (1957), Plutarch. Moralia. Volume XII, Part I, with an English Translation, London – Cambridge (MA) (LCL). 35

Cf. Ferrari – Baldi (2002) 9.

FROM CHAOS TO COSMOS (AND BACK AGAIN)

213

Cornford, F.M. (1937), Plato’s Cosmology. The Timaeus of Plato, Indianapolis. Dillon, J. (2002), “Plutarch and God: Theodicy and Cosmogony in the Thought of Plutarch”, in Frede, D. – Laks, A. (eds.), Traditions of Theology. Studies in Hellenistic Theology, its Background and Aftermath, Leiden (Philosophia antiqua 89), 223–237. Donini, P. (1988), “Science and metaphysics. Platonism, Aristotelianism, and Stoicism in Plutarch’s On the face in the moon”, in Dillon, J – Long, A.A. (eds.), The Question of ‘Eclecticism’: Studies in Later Greek philosophy, Berkeley – Los Angeles – London, 126–144. Donini, P. (1992), “I fondamenti della fisica e la teoria delle cause in Plutarco”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), Plutarco e le scienze. Atti del IV Convegno plutarcheo. Genova – Bocca di Magra, 22–25 aprile 1991, Genova, 99–120. Donini, P. (2011), Plutarco. Il volto della luna. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi Moralium 48). Ferrari, F. (1995), Dio, idee e materia. La struttura del cosmo in Plutarco di Cheronea, Napoli (Strumenti per la ricerca plutarchea 3). Ferrari, F. (2000), “I commentari specialistici alle sezioni matematiche del Timeo”, in Brancacci, A. (ed.), La filosofia in età imperiale. Le scuole e le tradizioni filosofiche, Napoli, 169–224. Ferrari, F. (2004), “Platone in Plutarco”, in Gallo, I. (ed.), La biblioteca di Plutarco. Atti del IX Convegno plutarcheo. Pavia, 13–15 giugno 2002, Napoli, 225–235. Ferrari, F. – Baldi, L. (2002), Plutarco. La generazione dell’anima nel Timeo. Introduzione, testo critico, traduzione e commento, Napoli (Corpus Plutarchi Moralium 37). Froidefond, C. (1987), “Plutarque et le platonisme”, in ANRW II, 36, 1, Berlin – New York, 184–233. Giavatto, A. (2010), “Répertoire des citations de Platon dans les Moralia”, in Brouillette, X. – Giavatto, A. (eds.), Les dialogues platoniciens chez Plutarque. Stratégies et méthodes exégétiques, Leuven (Ancient and Medieval Philosophy, Ser. I, 43), 131–141. Görgemans, H. (1970), Untersuchungen zu Plutarchs Dialog De facie in orbe lunae, Heidelberg. Grasso, E. (2012), “Myth, Image and Likeness in Plato’s Timaeus”, in Collobert, C. – Destrée, P. – Gonzalez, F.J. (eds.), Plato and Myth. Studies on the Use and Status of Platonic Myths, Leiden – Boston (Mnemosyne Supplements 337), 343–367. Hamilton, W. (1934), “The Myth in Plutarch’s De Facie (940F–945D)”, CQ 28, 24–30. Hershbell, J.P. (1974), “Empedoclean Influences on the Timaeus”, Phoenix 28, 145–166. Hershbell, J.P. (1987), “Plutarch’s ‘De animae procreatione in Timaeo’: An Analysis of Structure and Content”, in ANRW II, 36, 1, Berlin – New York, 234–247. Meeusen, M. (2012), “Matching in Mind the Sea Beast’s Complexion. On the Pragmatics of Plutarch’s Hypomnemata and Scientific Innovation: the Case of Q.N. 19 (916BF)”, Philologus 156, 234–259.

214

BRAM DEMULDER

Opsomer, J. (2004), “Plutarch’s De animae procreatione in Timaeo: Manipulation or Search for Consistency?”, in Adamson, P. – Baltussen, H. – Stone, M.W.F. (eds.), Philosophy, Science and Exegesis in Greek, Arabic and Latin Commentaries. Vol. 1., London (Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies Supplement 83.1), 137–162. Opsomer, J. (forthc.), “Why doesn’t the moon crash into the earth? Different brands of teleology in Plutarch’s On the Face in the Moon”, in Rocca, J. (ed.), Nature’s Purpose. Essays on the Teleological Tradition in Antiquity, Cambridge. Santaniello, C. (2005), “Working on Empedocles in Plutarch’s Days (Fac. lun. 926D ff.)”, in: Jufresa, M. – Mestre, F. – Gómez, P. – Gilabert, P. (eds.), Plutarc a la seva època: paideia i societat, Barcelona, 445–452. Taub, L. (2008), Aetna and the Moon. Explaining Nature in Ancient Greece and Rome, Corvallis (OR). Taylor, A.E. (1928), A Commentary on Plato’s Timaeus, Oxford. Thévenaz, P. (1938), L’Âme du monde, le devenir et la matière chez Plutarque. Avec une traduction du traité ‘De la Genèse de l’ Âme dans le Timée’ (1re partie), Neuchâtel (Collection d’ études anciennes). Van der Stockt, L. (1999), “A Plutarchan Hypomnema on Self-Love”, AJPh 120, 575–599.

Plutarch and Transgressions of Nature: Stylistic Analysis of De facie in orbe lunae 926CD AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

1. Nature and Plutarch’s stylistic procedures in § 12–15 of the De facie in orbe lunae The passage that I will discuss in this paper is the practical argument with which Lamprias (that is, Plutarch) dialectically uses the Stoic doctrine, discussed by him, on the natural movements of the elements, since with it his antagonist, represented here by Pharnaces, denies the earthy character of the moon which is essential in the metaphysical and teleological design established by Plutarch in this dialogue. We can say that with chapters 12–15 (926C–928B) of De facie we enter the realm of nature1. In it the first actor represents φύσις, which is constant from the beginning to the end. It is literally mentioned twenty times in the three chapters and another ten as part of the root of the verb φύω: a visible proof of Plutarch’s interest in the question of nature which is applicable to the stars. Moreover, of those thirty-four times, the linguistic expression of nature is included in at least three clauses of main periods with the preferred rhythms of the Chaeronean: ditrochaean (926C: -φυκεν οὖσαν and 927C: -θαι πέφυκεν) and dicretic (928A: τὴν ἑκάστου φύσιν). This certainly confirms the stylistic relevance of the topic. As to other stylistic procedures, the importance of φύσις is marked with: 1) the position of the term at the beginning or end of a syntactic structure: 927C: παρὰ φύσιν (1) ἐν οὐρανῷ (2) τοῖς γεώδεσι (3) τὰς κινήσεις (2) ὑπάρχειν (1);

1

See the analysis on this Section of Görgemanns (1970) 98–111 and, in particular for the text concerning this contribution (chapter 12), 98–103.

216

AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

2) its inclusion in chiasms: 926C: μὲν ἀνωφερὲς (1) φύσει (2) καὶ κοῦφον (1); 926E: Τιτᾶνας (1) ἐπὶ τὴν φύσιν (2) καὶ Γίγαντας (1); 927C: ταῖς κατὰ φύσιν ῥοπαῖς (1) χρῆσθαι (2) καὶ φέρεσθαι (2) καθ’ ὃ πέφυκε (1); 3) or with syntactical alternations in combination with chiasm: 926E: τοὺς παλαιοὺς (1) κινῇς (2) Τιτᾶνας (1) ἐπὶ τὴν φύσιν (2) καὶ Γίγαντας (1) …; and, finally, 4) its presence in syntactic formulas with the perfect πέφυκεν which, with minor variations, is repeated up to 6 times (ὅπου μὴ πέφυκεν, 926C, 2x, ἐξ οὗ πέφυκεν, 927Α, ἧ πέφυκε, 927Α, καθ᾽ὃ πέφυκεν, 927C and πρὸς ὃ πέφυκεν, 927Ε). The aim of these chapters is to demonstrate to the Stoic Pharnaces and in a brief statement to the Peripatetic Aristotle, that the moon is earthly and inhabitable, a necessary condition for the philosophical credibility of Sulla’s demonological myth. The main argument used by the Stoics is that of the position of up or down and the movement upwards or downwards of the elements. With that argument, taken to its logical conclusion, they conclude that the moon if it were earthly, could not be aloft, as earth land and water tend downwards and there cannot exist other outer worlds (a topic which Plutarch also rejects in De def. or. 423CD2), as this would imply παρὰ φύσιν positions of the elements. So Lamprias and Lucius confront this argument by discussing the identification of earth, the centre of the cosmos and the position of below. The elements thus become, insomuch as part of the φύσις, the Leitmotif of the passage, and this explains their stylistic relevance in the dialogue. The names of the principal elements confronted (earth, air and fire), or their essential qualities and behaviours are repeated often and are the main literary referent, and the stylistic devices used in relation to them (sentence positioning, alliteration, semantic fields, etc.) give precedence above all to that of the element of earth and that of fire as belonging to the moon in two (the Stoic and Platonic) antithetical theories in dispute. Earth, be it by the actual term (γῆ), its derivatives (γεῶδες) or its characteristic qualities, such as ‘stony’, is mentioned eleven times: γῆ (8), γεῶδες (2), λιθῶδες (1) ψυχρός. Water is referred to seven times ὕδωρ (3), θάλαττα (3) and ὑγρώτης (1). Air appears with the term πνεῦμα four times. And fire is, as we have said before, after earth, the dominant element in our passage: be it with the actual word πῦρ (7), or with adjectives derived from it as πυρώδης (2) and πυροειδής (1), or with its primary quality, θερμότης (1) and θέρμα (1).

2

See also Görgemanns (1970) 103.

PLUTARCH AND TRANSGRESSIONS OF NATURE

217

As for the movements of these elements, they are indicated by nouns and verbs (τὰς κινήσεις, ἥκειν, ὑφεῖται καὶ κέκαμπται καὶ διεσχημάτισται, γεγονὼς καὶ γινόμενος, μεταβολαῖς, μεθιστὰς καὶ ἀπάγων, διάλυσίν, κινῇς, ἀκοσμίαν); the allusion to the movements of air and fire (including the soul and νοῦς) is frequent: ascent, lightness and speed (ἀνωφερὲς, κοῦφον, ταχεῖα, καὶ περιπολοῦντα διιπτάμενον) and to those of earth (including the body): descent, weight and slowness (βραδεῖ, τὸ βαρύ, βρίθος, πάχος). Most of these terms furthermore form part of a literary style that enhances their importance, either by their position in chiasmus – being at the beginning or end of a period or member – or by other rhetorical devices: alliteration, homonymy and repetitions with or without polyptoton, alternations, and parallelism or antithetical position. We will come back to some of these devices when analysing a small part of this passage, which for reasons of space will have to be limited in this work. 2. Analysis of the litterary structures in § 12 of De facie in orbe lunae In chapter 11 of the dialogue there has already been a discussion about the natural movement of the constituent elements of the stars and the sky in general. The conclusion drawn by the characters that represent the views of Plutarch, Lamprias and Lucius, is that because of the infinity of the universe, the centre, and therefore the lowest position, does not correspond to any body (meaning earth) nor to the incorporeal3. Thus, the upward and downward movement, which is essential to demonstrate the possibility of an earthly body occupying an elevated position, is downplayed. As Daniel Babut points out4, this argument alone is sufficient to refute the thesis of the Stoics which prevents the earth from being above, and therefore makes out the Moon to be air and fire. However, convinced that Pharnaces, always suspicious and averse to the methods of the Platonic dialectic, is not happy with his argument, Lamprias decides to disprove the Stoic doctrine adopting their own stance. With this in mind, he accepts, at least as a methodological resort, the natural movements and positions of the elements. He begins thus his argument tacitly accepting that the movements in the sky of earthly objects are unnatural: Οὐ μὴν ἀλλὰ θέντες, εἰ βούλει, παρὰ φύσιν ἐν οὐρανῷ

3

De facie 926B: σῶμα μὲν γὰρ οὐθέν ἐστι κάτω πρὸς ὃ κινεῖται, τὸ δ’ ἀσώματον οὔτ’ εἰκὸς οὔτε βούλονται τοσαύτην ἔχειν δύναμιν, ὥστε πάντα κατατείνειν ἐφ’ ἑαυτὸ καὶ περὶ αὑτὸ συνέχειν (“for there is no body that is ‘down’ towards which they are in motion and it is neither likely nor in accordance with the intention of these men that the incorporeal should have so much influence as to attract all these objects and keep them together around itself”). 4 Babut (1969) 124–125.

218

AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

τοῖς γεώδεσι τὰς κινήσεις ὑπάρχειν … (926C)5. And with obvious rhetorical mastery, once the Stoic point of view has been put on the table, he will focus – and this will be the central theme of the passage under discussion – on the observation that the elements can occupy positions contrary to their nature. This, in the end, will permit him to introduce an agent (Providence) to correct the natural mechanicism that will guide the natural towards τὸ βέλτιον6. But let’s move on to the passage which is the object of our analysis. When Lamprias assumes that the motion in the sky (above) of the earthly element (the moon) is unnatural, he is not agreeing with the Stoics that the moon is not earth. The acceptance of this principle proves only that the place (heaven) occupied by the moon is unnatural: τοῦτο τὴν σελήνην οὐ δείκνυσι γῆν μὴ οὖσαν ἀλλὰ γῆν ὅπου μὴ πέφυκεν οὖσαν (926C)7. And, of course, the expression of that place will be the linguistic component stylistically highlighted. Indeed, from the literary point of view, which is what interests us here, the period in question highlights two arguments; one is the Platonic: the moon is earth; and the other (the only concession to the Stoics) is the transgression of nature implied by this statement. The first argument is given relevance through the following devices: 1) the prolepsis of the main term, σελήνην, the star which is the subject of controversy; 2) the litotes ‘οὐ δείκνυσι γῆν μὴ οὖσαν’ which together with the adversative ἀλλὰ γῆν … οὖσαν reinforces Plato’s position since it is a two-fold way, first negative and then positive, of saying that the Moon “is earth”; but then it also introduces a restriction (place), which is to be the Leitmotif of the whole chapter and more specifically the concession made to the Stoics, making it compatible with the Platonic idea; 3) in the structure τὴν σελήνην οὐ δείκνυσι γῆν μὴ οὖσαν ἀλλὰ γῆν the important nouns (referring to earth and moon) are organized in a chiasmus that places at the centre the element identifying the moon, and at the ends the identified objects (moon-earth-earth) so that cohesion is given to this identity. Furthermore, from the semantic point of view, we find an alternation of elements, 1 (noun) 2 (predicate) 1 (noun) 2 (predicate) 1 (noun), pointing in the same direction; and finally, 4) repetition of the root indicates the identifying element of the moon (earth) in γεώδεσι, γῆν, γῆν. 5

“All the same, let us assume, if you please, that the motions of earthy objects in the heaven are contrary to nature”. 6 Cf. De facie 927C. 7 “This indicates not that the moon is not earth but that she is earth in an ‘unnatural’ location”.

PLUTARCH AND TRANSGRESSIONS OF NATURE

219

The other topic, which accepts and adapts the Stoic thesis to Platonic thought, that is, that such a claim is “against nature”, is underlined by the phrase παρὰ φύσιν and the formula ὅπου μὴ πέφυκεν. In fact, both terms open and close the entire period and, despite the syntactic variatio, are equivalent: 1) also in this case the most significant root, φυ-, is repeated: φύσιν and πέφυκεν; 2) the natural transgression (wielded by the Stoic doctrine) is spatially relativized, first with a specific term (ἐν οὐρανῷ) and then with an adverb of place that leaves the place indeterminate, but refers to it: ὅπου μὴ πέφυκεν. Finally, at the end of the period a rhythmic link between the two issues is set, as the leading term of the phrase denoting the spatial transgression of nature and the participle that indicates the earthly identity of the Moon are represented in a ditrochaic clause conferring normality to Lamprias’s position: -φυκεν οὖσαν. So, as regards this first period of the argument, we can conclude that the unnatural character of the upward movement of the earthly bodies and the downward of the aerial and igneous ones is assumed; but the possibility of an unnatural position of the elements in the cosmos is confirmed. The demonstration of this possibility will now be made (in the following period) with examples of the reality of the other major elements (fire and air) which also undergo positions against nature without undermining their identity as such. To these examples, verifiable by experience, others taken from the philosophical corpus of the Stoics and perhaps, in part, of Platonists, will then be added. They concern the behaviour of the soul, the intellect and the universal element. In each of these examples we will see how the stylistic relevance focuses on the antithetical elements in their natural reality and their unnatural position. 1) The first one is the fire of Etna: ἐπεὶ καὶ τὸ πῦρ τὸ Αἰτναῖον ὑπὸ γῆν παρὰ φύσιν ἐστίν, ἀλλὰ πῦρ ἐστι (926C)8. The important thing here is fire and its unnatural position: it is located underground, without affecting the identity of the element (whose natural motion is upward). The repetition of the term πῦρ (with its initial sound underlined by the alliteration in παρά and its presence in ἐπεί and ὑπό) and its position at the beginning and end of the colon, forming part of the clause (ἀλλὰ πῦρ ἐστι = cretic + spondee) reveals now the main referent of the message. The structure sets in the 8

“For the fire of Aetna too is below earth ‘unnaturally’, but it is fire”.

220

AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

centre, thus in a relevant position, the other major theme of the argument: the place (ὐπὸ γῆν) and its unnatural condition (παρὰ φύσιν); as to the identity of the element, which remains intact despite the transgression of the φύσις, it is an important fact that the verb used for it is εἰμί (repeated in both senses of “being in” and “being”); besides, the element is also linked to a dual and parallel construction πῦρ τὸ … ἐστίν, ἀλλὰ πῦρ ἐστι, which, as we said, forms the clause with it. 2) The air enclosed in skins: καὶ τὸ πνεῦμα τοῖς ἀσκοῖς περιληφθὲν ἔστι μὲν ἀνωφερὲς φύσει καὶ κοῦφον, ἥκει δ’ ὅπου μὴ πέφυκεν ὑπ’ ἀνάγκης (926C)9. The second example affects the other element whose natural position is above, air, but whose upward movement is intercepted, contra naturam, when enclosed in skins. Again the element (now τὸ πνεῦμα further emphasized by alliteration with περιληφθέν and πέφυκεν) occupies the first position in the colon, although the identity (again in this case the verb used is εἰμί) is expressed through its natural properties (ἀνωφερὲς φύσει καὶ κοῦφον); the repetition of the phrase ὅπου πέφυκεν μὴ recalls the initial argument (that the moon is earthly but in an unnatural place) for which it is used as evidence. From a stylistic point of view the structure is splendid: besides the relevance of πνεῦμα, already pointed out, emphasis is placed on the φύσις and its transgression, and on the opposition between the natural ascending movement of the air (pleonasm with adjectives κοῦφον and ἀνωφερές) and perhaps the circular movement (the choice of the περιληφθὲν term is excellent10) to which it is seen as restricted by its position: ἀνωφερές, which indicates the natural movement of air with its prefix ἀνωis further reinforced by the simple alliteration with ἀσκοῖς and by syllabic with ἀνάγκης; as for its second element -φερές, we can make two remarks: 1) it explains for stylistic reasons the use of the verb ἥκει instead of ἐστί to allude to the natural position as in the previous cases (the moon and the fire of Etna); and 2) it emphasizes the main protagonist of the whole passage, nature, since it reinforces the term φύσις by the alliteration of the sound φ, which is echoed furthermore with alliteration within the same sentence περιληφθέν, κοῦφον and πέφυκεν. Finally, in this clause the colon (at the end of period) -φυκεν ὑπ’ ἀνάγκης, a first paeon + spondee,

9 “And the air confined in skins, though by nature it is light and has an upward tendency, has been constrained to occupy an ‘unnatural’ location.” 10 Cf. De facie 927C: ὡς, εἴ γε πάντα δεῖ ταῖς κατὰ φύσιν ῥοπαῖς χρῆσθαι καὶ φέρεσθαι καθ’ ὃ πέφυκε, μήθ’ ἥλιος κυκλοφορείσθω μήτε φωσφόρος μηδὲ τῶν ἄλλων ἀστέρων μηδείς· ἄνω γάρ, οὐ κύκλῳ τὰ κοῦφα καὶ πυροειδῆ κινεῖσθαι πέφυκεν (“For, if all things really must follow their ‘natural’ inclinations and move with their ‘natural’ motions, you must order the sun not to revolve and Venus too and every other star as well, for light and fiery bodies move ‘naturally’ upwards and not in a circle”).

PLUTARCH AND TRANSGRESSIONS OF NATURE

221

expresses the physical transgression (the paeon) rhythmically as well as the necessity imposed on natural air movement (the spondee). After these two examples, which correspond to objective experience, Lamprias passes on to the anthropological and metaphysical (both physical) ground of Stoic philosophy itself. Plutarch (although elsewhere he resorts to distinctions of his own philosophy, such as the differentiation between ψυχή and νοῦς) is careful in these examples to attribute the physical interpretation of the soul (ὥσπερ ὑμεῖς φατε) and divinity (ὁ δὲ Ζεὺς ὑμῖν οὗτος) to the Stoics, whose principles were assumed only as a starting point of the whole argument. In addition, for new examples, which only interest him as part of the dialectical demonstration that natural elements can be found in reality occupying spaces contra naturam, the Platonist keeps his doctrinal distance with a different procedure. Indeed, where for the examples of physical experience he used a discursive language, now he introduces restrictions with impressive devices (πρὸς Διός εἶπον) and employs, for the three cases, rhetorical questions that circumvent the idea that the philosopher shares the same ideas as his opponents. 1) The Soul and its corporeity: αὐτὴ δ’ ἡ ψυχή, πρὸς Διός ‘εἶπον’ οὐ παρὰ φύσιν τῷ σώματι συνεῖρκται βραδεῖ ταχεῖα καὶ ψυχρῷ πυρώδης, ὥσπερ ὑμεῖς φατε, καὶ ἀόρατος αἰσθητῷ; (926C)11. As in the previous examples, there is anticipatio of the main referent in the period, the soul, which is at the opening. Moreover, the word for it (ψυχή) is emphasized by syllabic alliteration (accompanied by homonymy and multilayer polyptoton) ψυχή … ψυχρῷ12 … ψυχήν. Here also the syntagm contra naturam (παρὰ φύσιν) is associated with the place occupied by it, the body, the term for which, σώματι, is almost as important as ψυχή being its antithesis and anthropological complement. Indeed, σῶμα is repeated later, it is reinforced in the next period (which corresponds to νοῦς) through the identification of its parts (σάρκας … νεῦρα καὶ μυελούς); and its relevance is completely underlined through the initial sound alliteration: σώματι συνεῖρκται … σώματι … σάρκας. The oppositions of both substantives and adjectives that characterize this unnatural association, are stylistically linked by a set of chiastic structures and a very accomplished alternation. The first structure consists of the syntactic chiasmus ἡ ψυχὴ … τῷ συνεῖρκται σώματι

11

“As to the soul herself,” I said, “by Zeus, is her confinement in the body not contrary to nature, swift as she is and fiery, as you say, and invisible in a sluggish, cold, and sensible vehicle?” 12 Although here the term indicates a quality of the body as opposed to the soul, it must not be forgotten that in the context of the Stoics, it is used for the etymological explanation of the origin of the soul through the cooling of the intellect.

222

AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

ταχεῖα βραδεῖ: nominative (1) dative (2) verb (3) dative (2) nominative (1). Now the verb underlining the position is not εἰμί, as in the case of the fire of Etna; nor ἥκω, as in the example of air, but συνεῖρκται, a word which surely betrays the Pythagorean-Platonic militancy of the characters (Lucius and Lamprias) who are engaged in a common cause against the Stoics represented by Pharnaces. In fact, the same verb συνεῖρκται is found in a passage of strong Pythagorean tones by Aristides Quintilianus13 in which the relationship between body and soul is explained, and, with the participle συνειργμένη, in another Platonicthemed work of Plutarch14. It would therefore seem that with this first chiasmus Lamprias takes up his own position (reminiscent of the Platonic idea of the body as the tomb of the soul) before moving on to the second chiasmus, where the thought of the Stoics is apparently expressed and emphasised. This is definite for the opposition between ψυχρῷ and πυρώδης, and indeterminate for the other, shared by other schools, including Platonism. Indeed, the sentence ὥσπερ ὑμεῖς φατε, perhaps suggested by the characterization of the soul as πυρώδης, constitutes the centre of another syntactic chiasmus, καὶ ψυχρῷ πυρώδης, ὥσπερ ὑμεῖς φατε, καὶ ἀόρατος αἰσθητῷ, which follows the final sequence of the preceding chiastic structure: dative (1) nominative (2) ὥσπερ ὑμεῖς φατε (3) nominative (2) dative (1). Finally, the clause ἀόρατος αἰσθητῷ (choriamb + spondee) rhythmically reflects the content of the period, the choriamb imitating the internal cohesion of body and soul and the spondee the strength of their union. 2) Nοῦς and its corporeity: διὰ τοῦτ’ οὖν σώματι ψυχὴν μὴ λέγωμεν εἶναι μηδὲ νοῦ, χρῆμα θεῖον, ὑπὸ βρίθους καὶ πάχους, οὐρανόν τε πάντα καὶ γῆν καὶ θάλασσαν ἐν ταὐτῷ περιπολοῦντα καὶ διιπτάμενον, εἰς σάρκας ἥκειν καὶ νεῦρα

13 De mus. 3,24: τῶν δὲ δύο κύκλων τὴν πρὸς τὸ ἡγεμονικὸν τῶν φαντασιῶν δηλούντων ἀνακύκλησιν ἀναλόγως ταῖς τῆς φωνῆς ἐπιτάσεσι καὶ ἀνέσεσιν ὁ μὲν ἐκ τῆς ἀρτιάκις τετρακτύος τὸ πρακτικὸν τῆς τοῦ παντὸς δηλοῖ ψυχῆς, ὃ καὶ συνεῖρκται τῷ σώματι, ὁ δ’ ἐκ τῆς κατὰ τοὺς περιττοὺς τὸ θεωρητικὸν καὶ θειότατον καὶ ἐκτὸς ὁμιλοῦν τῷ βελτίονι (“Since the two circles show the circuit relative to the authoritative force of the appearances analogously with the ascents and descents of the voice, the one circle derived from the even-times tetractys shows the practical part of the soul of the universe, which was also fastened together with the body, and the other derived from the tetractys by odd numbers shows the theoretical, most divine, and external part, which associates with the better”; transl. by T.J. Mathiesen, taken from The Loeb Classical Library). 14 De an. procr. in Tim. 1023C: ἀτοπώτερον δὲ τὸ τὴν ψυχὴν ἰδέαν ποιεῖν· ἡ μὲν γὰρ ἀεικίνητος ἡ δ’ ἀκίνητος, καὶ ἡ μὲν ἀμιγὴς πρὸς τὸ αἰσθητὸν ἡ δὲ τῷ σώματι συνειργμένη (“What is more absurd, however, is to make the soul an idea, for the former is perpetually in motion but the latter is immobile and the latter cannot mix with the perceptible but the former has been coupled with body.”).

PLUTARCH AND TRANSGRESSIONS OF NATURE

223

καὶ μυελοὺς καὶ παθέων μυρίων μεστὰς ὑγρότητας; (926D)15. The beginning of this period διὰ τοῦτ’ οὖν σώματι ψυχὴν μὴ λέγωμεν εἶναι16 is a bridge between the two successive examples: it closes the subject of soul and body with the chiastic arrangement of the two terms in relation to the beginning of the previous colon (ἡ ψυχή … τῷ σώματι … σώματι ψυχήν); and it opens a new one, the one of the νοῦς, which in this way is also linked to the body in the same condition as the soul was, contra naturam. Plutarch makes use again of alternations, zigzagging with language 1) the levity of intellect (χρῆμα θεῖον) and its weight and thickening which push it down towards the body (ὑπὸ βρίθους καὶ πάχους17); 2) the agility and immediacy of its freedom of movement (οὐρανόν τε πάντα καὶ γῆν καὶ θάλασσαν ἐν ταὐτῷ περιπολοῦντα καὶ διιπτάμενον), and its entry into the various components of the body: σάρκας, νεῦρα, μυελούς and παθέων μυρίων μεστὰς ὑγρότητας. On the phonic level, we must emphasize the alliteration (partly syllabic) and insistent repetition of π underlining the most significant terms of the alternation between the qualities of the intellect and the certainty of its incarnation – πάχους, πάντα, παθέων, περιπολοῦντα, διιπτάμενον – as well as other body parts: σάρκας because of its relationship with σῶμα through alliteration; νεῦρα because of its phonic relation with νοῦν; and μυελούς because of its alliteration which is syllabic with μυρίων, simple with μεστάς and more distant with μή μηδέ at the start of the period. As for the clause, the ditrochee ὑγρότητας belongs to the normal rhythmic ending in Plutarch, but it is an element that, together with its closing position, gives prominence to the last physical element that is pervaded by νοῦς and that is also involved in the materialization of the spirit.

15 “Shall we then on this account deny that there is soul with (Cherniss: “is soul ” from εῖναι, see below, note 16) body or that mind, a divine thing, though it traverses instantaneously in its flight all heaven and earth and sea, has passed into flesh and sinew and marrow under the influence of weight and density and countless qualities that attend liquefaction?”. 16 We stick to the manuscript reading as opposed to the correction εῖναι of Van Herwerden/Kepler, accepted by Cherniss and recently by Donini. 17 There is no reason to change the position of the syntagma as it is substantiated both stylistically and philosophically. To accept this position does not entail a contradiction of the Plutarchean theory of the immateriality of the νοῦς as Donini maintains. What Lamprias is doing here is either proposing a Stoic νοῦς of a certain substance which through weight and condensation enters the body, or an immaterial νοῦς such as Plutarch believes, but which linked to the soul (a doctrine developed in the myth of Sulla) enters the body because of the material nature of the former. In both cases Lamprias preserves his view that the intellect which is of a divine nature (igneous), contra naturam ends up also occupying a physical space.

224

AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

3) Zeus one and many: ὁ δὲ Ζεὺς ὑμῖν οὗτος οὐ τῇ μὲν αὑτοῦ φύσει χρώμενος ἕν ἐστι μέγα πῦρ καὶ συνεχές, νυνὶ δ’ ὑφεῖται καὶ κέκαμπται καὶ διεσχημάτισται, πᾶν χρῶμα γεγονὼς καὶ γινόμενος ἐν ταῖς μεταβολαῖς (926D). The last of the rhetorical questions with which Lamprias brings the Stoic doctrine over to his own position points to their watermark: Zeus, the supreme deity, transformed into the allegorical referent of the Stoic reality, that is, fire. Again, the name that corresponds to the argument comes first – Ζεῦς occupies the first position – and, as in the case of the soul (and by extension νοῦς) Lamprias takes care to establish firmly that the aforesaid is part of the philosophical baggage of his opponents (Ζεῦς ὑμῖν οὗτος). The period has two members. In the first one, the uniform and continuous nature of divinity, according to its nature, is emphasized (ἕν ἐστι μέγα πῦρ καὶ συνεχές); in the second, it is the plurality that reveals itself in the reality, after the differentiation of the cosmos (contra naturam, indeed), which is underlined. From a stylistic point of view, apart from the recovery of the term φύσις, of capital importance throughout the passage we are discussing, the Leitmotif of the first period (unicity) is achieved with the central position of ἔστι (again the verb that best expresses the identity) between ἕν and μέγα, and of πῦρ (the divine entity) between μέγα and συνεχές. As for the second period, the differentiation (διακόσμησις) contra naturam of fire is achieved in two ways: 1) through the unusual accumulation of three verbs denoting change and separation (ὑφεῖται καὶ κέκαμπται καὶ διεσχημάτισται); and 2) through the repetition with polyptoton (perfect participle and present participle) of the verb γίγνομαι, indicating the identity in the process. The passage closes with a very adequate term to express this idea as μεταβολαῖς. As for χρῶμα, which is the manuscript reading, I think it is a mistake to correct it, as Donini does, with the conjecture χρῆμα of an Aldine edition18: on the one hand, it associates the new (unnatural) situation of Fire in διακόσμησις with its physical reality in ἐκπύρωσις thanks to the similarity of alliteration between χρώμενος in the first period and χρῶμα in this second one; on the other hand, the word plays an important role in both Platonism and Stoicism: in the first one, it is part of the creation (the contribution of fire to the visibility of the cosmos), and in the doctrine of Zeno τὰ χρώματα πρώτους εἶναι σχηματισμοὺς τῆς ὕλης is a thought that Plutarch has certainly in mind when he associates χρῶμα with the verb that indicates the last phase of cosmic differentiation: διεσχημάτισται19. 18

Bibliothèque Nationale de Paris (Rés. J. 94). This is Leonicus’ conjecture. Zenon: Ζήνων ὁ Στωικὸς τὰ χρώματα πρώτους εἶναι σχηματισμοὺς τῆς ὕλης (Plac. philos. 883C, “The Stoic Zeno (said) that colours are the first configurations of matter”). Plato too believed that at the birth of the world of the elements (Ti. 28b; 32b) earth contributed τό ἐμβριθές and fire τὸ χρῶμα, a doctrine Plutarch himself calls to mind in De fort. Rom. 316EF: καὶ νομίζω, καθάπερ Πλάτων φησὶν ἐκ πυρὸς καὶ γῆς ὡς ἀναγκαίων τε καὶ πρώτων γεγονέναι 19

PLUTARCH AND TRANSGRESSIONS OF NATURE

225

Also here the clauses provide the pathos of their rhythm to the meaning of their members: indeed, the choriamb closing the first colon emphasizes the unity of the fire, while the dicretic in the second colon (-νος ἐν ταῖς μεταβολαῖς, actually baccheus + forth paeon) with the abundance of short syllables and the following dismemberment of the usual rhythmic elements, fits well into the cosmic plurality that it attempts to reflect. 3. Conclusion Here we leave our analysis, but let me anticipate that in what follows, both in this chapter and in the following, Lamprias, (that is, Plutarch), having demonstrated that the elements occupy unnatural positions in the cosmos, warns his antagonists of the dangers of breaking the orderly and forced union of the elements, and of wanting to return them to their state of isolation, primal separation, where only chaos and discord reign. The imposition upon them of rational order, which is superior and contravenes the natural disorder, involves replacing νεῖκος by ἔρως, and the intervention of Providence (926F–927A). So in the end Lamprias lays down his cards revealing himself as a Platonist: he wants to show, as stated earlier, that the divinity ἐχρήσατο τῇ φύσει αὐτῶν ἐπὶ τὸ βέλτιον (927D). As is but logical, we do not have here a straightforward narrative exposition: as in the opening passage that we have discussed, and in some cases with a greater profusion of stylistic resources, language accommodates itself to philosophical arguments. In this way Plutarch makes it possible for us to understand the ἀκοσμία represented by the elements κατὰ φύσιν as well as the ἁρμονία imposed by love (Aphrodite and Eros), and the action of πρόνοια, of ποιητής Ζεὺς Ἀριστοτέχνας, replacing the physical necessity for the order of λόγος (927AB). And he takes advantage of all kinds of literary devices to make us perceive these ideas with the same stylistic intensity, and the same formal colouring with which we have felt, in our example, the relative importance of the παρὰ φύσιν position of the elements in the cosmos. Aurelio Pérez-Jiménez Universidad de Málaga

τὸν σύμπαντα κόσμον, ἵν’ ὁρατός τε γένηται καὶ ἁπτός, γῆς μὲν τὸ ἐμβριθὲς καὶ στάσιμον αὐτῷ συμβαλλομένης, πυρὸς δὲ χρῶμα καὶ μορφὴν καὶ κίνησιν, αἱ δ’ ἐν μέσῳ φύσεις, ὕδωρ καὶ ἀήρ, μαλάξασαι καὶ σβέσασαι τὴν ἑκατέρου τῶν ἄκρων ἀνομοιότητα συνήγαγον καὶ ἀνεμίξαντο τὴν ὕλην δι’ αὐτῶν (“Even as Plato asserts that the entire universe arose from fire and earth as the first and necessary elements, that it might become visible and tangible, earth contributing to it weight and stability, and fire contributing colour, form, and movement; but the medial elements, water and air, by softening and quenching the dissimilarity of both extremes, united them and brought about the composite nature of Matter through them”; transl. F.C. Babbitt, taken from The Loeb Classical Library).

226

AURELIO PÉREZ-JIMÉNEZ

Bibliography Babut, D. (1969), Plutarque et le Stoïcisme, Paris. Donini, P. (2011), Plutarco. Il volto della luna, Napoli. Görgemanns, H. (1970), Untersuchungen zu Plutarchs Dialog De facie in orbe lunae, Heidelberg.

Plutarch on Solon’s Simplicity Concerning Natural Philosophy: Sol. 3,6–7 and Frs. 9 and 12 West* DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO A scholar wishing to investigate the personality and work of Solon can essentially rely on two types of material: the vestiges of his artistic and legislative activity, and the information provided about him by other authorities. In fact, those different sources are closely interwoven with each other. If, on the one hand, we owe the transmission of what remains of his poetry and laws to the ancient authors who mention his work, on the other those same fragments are fundamental to the reconstruction of the historical framework of Solon’s time – a particularly turbulent period in the history of archaic Athens. The correct perception of these factors is as essential as it is complex, if one takes into consideration that the first concrete references to the great Athenian legislator are provided by sources composed long after his death. In addition to this limitation, it should not be forgotten that Solon was also the object of an idealization process, a phenomenon that influenced the more or less impartial understanding of his work and activity provided by ancient testimonies. Therefore, in addition to the scarcity of direct information about the early Archaic Period, one has likewise to face the limitation of dealing with data that do not all have the same historical validity – a factor that demands particular attention or otherwise one can easily be misled and compromise the accuracy of the research. Besides the fact that Solon constitutes a major figure in the gallery of Athenian statesmen, he also embodies the paradigmatic image of a special wise man, who would feed the literary imagination for centuries, as is shown, in particular, by the numerous literary and artistic treatments of his meeting with Croesus – the Lydian monarch who, from the high pedestal of brilliant wealth and immense power, had fallen into the dark

*

I wish to thank Manuel Tröster, who read an earlier version of this paper and whose comments helped me to improve it, especially at the linguistic level.

228

DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO

and deserted abyss of disgrace. Even if its historicity is highly unlikely on chronological grounds, this famous meeting, which has as its backdrop the concept of happiness, attracted much attention after its first literary expression in Book I of Herodotus’ Histories – because it constitutes a remarkable account of Solon’s wisdom, a quality that, along with his legislative work, eventually turned him into a paradigmatic figure, both on ethical and political grounds1. Nevertheless, this paper proposes to approach another feature that equally contributed to the shaping of Solon as one of the great figures of Greek history: the sometimes neglected fact that he was also the first Attic poet. Solon’s aesthetic option of putting into verse civic and ideological reflections, while being generally recognized as very useful from a social and historical perspective, does not always attract due attention from a literary and philosophical perspective. The first reason seems to rest in the assumption, implied or assumed, that the verses of Solon do not deserve a prominent place in Greek literature. Although such undervaluation is anything but fair, its real motivation may at least be partially explained by the very importance that the reformer has in the field of political and constitutional history. In other words, the fact that he was an important statesman seems to legitimate a certain implicit disregard for Solon’s poetic work, as if it were a quality superfluous to someone who had already achieved notoriety at a different level. Another explanation for this relative injustice can be found in the circumstances accompanying the transmission of Solon’s poems, i.e. in the fact that ancient testimonies used to quote his poetry in order to illustrate aspects of the legislator’s activity. Although this practice may, at first glance, seem to be another example of literary perception based on a short-sighted biographism, the truth is that this temptation is comprehensible in so far as the poetic fragments, alongside the vestiges of the laws, stand out as important firsthand material for the understanding of Solon’s work as political reformer. However, even if it is legitimate to consider Solon’s verses from a historical perspective, this does not eliminate the obligation of doing the same from an aesthetic point of view. Solon’s poems can be approached in many different ways, but there are two basic aspects that should not be left out: the type of information provided and the plastic expression adopted to transmit it. Such a methodology faces an unavoidable limitation, however, which is that the preserved pieces of Solon’s poetry do not even reach the number of three hundred lines. Conversely, there is evidence that the missing part would be far more extensive, as can be deduced from a passage in Diogenes 1

For a global introduction to this topic, see Leão (2010a); Id. (2010b).

PLUTARCH ON SOLON’S SIMPLICITY

229

Laertius (1,61), where the doxographer says that the Athenian legislator composed thousands of verses. Although the information provided by Diogenes always demands some reservations (since a prolific poetic output appears to represent a recurrent feature in his characterization of the figure of the wise), yet it is not improbable that only a small percentage of Solon’s total production has come down to us, thus limiting greatly its appreciation as a whole. From what is known of Solon’s artistic production, it cannot be said that he is the greatest poet of the Archaic Period, but there are, however, more than enough reasons for considering him a full-fledged poet2. In his verses, besides an often original use of the previous literary tradition (especially Homeric language), the vividness of the metaphors with which he describes and visualizes his contemporary reality is particularly distinctive3. He does not even hesitate to point out the intellectual progress and the balance brought about by age4, a new and defiant attitude when confronted with the ‘carpe diem’ sensibility that dominates the latent pessimism of archaic Greek poetry in general. Moreover, one cannot forget the impacting reflections about the functioning of the world or of the relationship between human nature and divine willpower, which are presented in one of the most justly famous compositions of Greek literature: the so-called “Elegy to the Muses” (fr. 13). However, what his poetry records in a more paradigmatic way is the passionate expression of an ethic of service to the polis and to the community, as is so sublimely expressed in such poems as the “Salamis Elegy” (frs. 1–3), the “Eunomia” (fr. 4), or in those where he delivers the global apology of his legislative work (like fr. 36). If nothing else existed, this would be enough to secure him a place in his own right in the history of Greek literature. It is not, however, the aim of this study to reflect on the poetry of Solon as a whole, but only to analyze in more detail some of the verses (frs. 9,1–2 and 12) transmitted by Plutarch, in the Vita Solonis, as 2 For a comprehensive analysis of Solon’s poetry, see Masaracchia (1958) 201–362; Leão (2001) 401–458; Almeida (2003); Blok – Lardinois (2006), 15–172; Noussia-Fantuzzi (2010). 3 This may be as well a sign of the playful character of Solon, which can also be detected in the way he decided to label his first emblematic reform – the seisachtheia, the revolutionary cancellation of debts which he literally called a ‘shaking off of burdens’ – thus covering up the rigidness of difficult measures with an expressive metaphorical term. When mentioning this, Plutarch (Sol. 15,2–3) comments ironically that the Athenians must have learned quickly with Solon, because “they called harlots ‘companions,’ taxes ‘contributions,’ the garrison of a city its ‘guard,’ and the prison a ‘chamber.’” 4 Most notably fr. 18. All the quotations of Solon’s poetry are made according to the edition of West (1992).

230

DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO

well as the observations he makes about the structural meaning of these compositions in what relates to the philosophical thinking of the poet. Before mentioning these verses, Plutarch refers to two other fragments (15 and 31) of his poetry to underline that Solon, driven by economic needs, devoted himself to commerce in his early years, and that the life of danger characteristic of the trading activity left its marks in the ‘more vulgar than philosophical’ (3,1: τὸ φορτικώτερον ἢ φιλοσοφώτερον) way he speaks about pleasure in his poetry. Plutarch continues by saying that the statesman started by composing frivolous poems for his own amusement (3,4: παίζων ἔοικε προσχρήσασθαι καὶ τέρπων ἑαυτὸν ἐν τῷ σχολάζειν), but later decided to put as well into verse philosophic maxims (γνώμας … φιλοσόφους), political teachings, admonitions to the Athenians and even laws (quoting as an example of this the incipit of fr. 31). After this overall appreciation of the Solonian verses, Plutarch presents some further considerations on the poet’s thinking in what concerns philosophy, which demand closer scrutiny (Sol. 3,6–8): φιλοσοφίας δὲ τοῦ ἠθικοῦ μάλιστα τὸ πολιτικόν, ὥσπερ οἱ πλεῖστοι τῶν τότε σοφῶν, ἠγάπησεν. ἐν δὲ τοῖς φυσικοῖς ἁπλοῦς ἐστι λίαν καὶ ἀρχαῖος, ὡς δῆλον ἐκ τούτων (frs. 9,1–2 and 12) ἐκ νεφέλης πέλεται χιόνος μένος ἠδὲ χαλάζης, βροντὴ δ’ ἐκ λαμπρᾶς γίνεται ἀστεροπῆς. ἐξ ἀνέμων δὲ θάλασσα ταράσσεται· ἢν δέ τις αὐτὴν μὴ κινῇ, πάντων ἐστὶ δικαιοτάτη. καὶ ὅλως ἔοικεν ἡ Θάλεω μόνου σοφία τότε περαιτέρω τῆς χρείας ἐξικέσθαι τῇ θεωρίᾳ· τοῖς δ’ ἄλλοις ἀπὸ τῆς πολιτικῆς ἀρετῆς τοὔνομα τῆς σοφίας ὑπῆρξε. In philosophy, he cultivated chiefly the domain of political ethics5, like most of the wise men of the time; and in physics, he is very simple and antiquated, as is clear from the following verses: From clouds come sweeping snow and hail, And thunder follows on the lightning’s flash. By winds the sea is lashed to storm, but if it be Unvexed, it is of all things most amenable.

5 The English quotations of Plutarch’s Life of Solon are taken from B. Perrin’s translation, available at the Perseus Project. However, in what respects this passage in particular, a more precise translation would be ‘in the ethical part of philosophy, he cultivated chiefly the domain of politics’.

PLUTARCH ON SOLON’S SIMPLICITY

231

And in general, it would seem that Thales was the only wise man of the time who carried his speculations beyond the realm of the practical; the rest got the name of wisdom from their excellence as statesmen. Before discussing Plutarch’s statements in more detail, it must be underlined that his quotation of Solon’s poetry in this particular case combines the first two verses of fr. 9 with two other verses from a different poem, corresponding to fr. 12 in West’s edition. In fact, a more extensive version of fr. 9 is known from Diodorus Siculus, who explains that this elegy was delivered by Solon before the Athenians as a prediction of the upcoming tyranny of Pisistratus. It is worth quoting the whole passage (9,20,1–2): Ὅτι Σόλων ὁ νομοθέτης παρελθὼν εἰς τὴν ἐκκλησίαν παρεκάλει τοὺς Ἀθηναίους καταλύειν τὸν τύραννον πρὶν τελέως ἰσχυρὸν γενέσθαι. οὐδενὸς δὲ αὐτῷ προσέχοντος ἀναλαβὼν τὴν πανοπλίαν προῆλθεν εἰς τὴν ἀγορὰν γεγηρακώς, καὶ τοὺς θεοὺς ἐπιμαρτυρόμενος ἔφησε καὶ λόγῳ καὶ ἔργῳ τῇ πατρίδι κινδυνευούσῃ βεβοηθηκέναι τὸ κατ’ αὐτὸν μέρος· τῶν δὲ ὄχλων ἀγνοούντων τὴν ἐπιβολὴν Πεισιστράτου συνέβη τὸν Σόλωνα τἀληθῆ λέγοντα παραπέμπεσθαι. λέγεται δὲ Σόλων καὶ προειπεῖν τοῖς Ἀθηναίοις τὴν ἐσομένην τυραννίδα δι’ ἐλεγείων· ἐκ νεφέλης πέλεται χιόνος μένος ἠδὲ χαλάζης, βροντὴ δ’ ἐκ λαμπρᾶς γίνεται ἀστεροπῆς. ἀνδρῶν δ’ ἐκ μεγάλων πόλις ὄλλυται, εἰς δὲ μονάρχου δῆμος ἀϊδρίηι δουλοσύνην ἔπεσεν. λίην δ’ ἐξάραντ’ ῥάιδιόν ἐστι κατασχεῖν ὕστερον, ἀλλ’ ἤδη χρὴ πάντα νοεῖν. Solon the lawgiver once entered the assembly and urged the Athenians to overthrow the tyranny before it became all-powerful. And when no man paid attention to him, he put on his full armour and appeared in the market-place, although an old man, and calling upon the gods as witnesses he declared that by word and deed, so far as in him lay, he had brought aid to the fatherland when it was in peril. But since the populace did not perceive the design of Peisistratus, it turned out that Solon, though he spoke the truth, was disregarded. And it is said that Solon also predicted the approaching tyranny to the Athenians in elegiac verse: From cloud is born the might of snow and hail And from bright lightning’s flash the thunder comes. And from great men a city finds its doom; The people in their ignorance have bowed In slavery to a monarch’s single rule.

232

DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO For him who puts too far from shore it’s hard The harbour later on to make; but now At once one needs think of everything6.

When introducing the quotation of frs. 9,1–2 and 12, Plutarch says that these verses illustrate the fact that Solon proved to be simplistic and archaic in the field of natural sciences (ἐν δὲ τοῖς φυσικοῖς ἁπλοῦς ἐστι λίαν καὶ ἀρχαῖος)7. Although this statement sometimes goes unnoticed by scholars, the truth is that it seems to be confirmed by the poet’s use of dike at the cosmological and naturalistic level. In other words, Solon recognizes the existence in the world of an immanent notion of reciprocity and balance, a natural and universal order, which has long been interpreted as a parallel to the value of dike in the cosmological system of Anaximander. In effect, Jaeger is among those who first underlined this aspect, speaking about the “Erkenntnis eines sinnvollen immanenten Gesetzes”, and many others followed the same line of reasoning8. That Solon could have had contact with Ionian philosophy is indirectly sustained by the tradition of his apodemia, whose historicity, although disputed, is strong enough to be accepted as a very plausible possibility9. It is nevertheless beyond the objectives of this analysis to discuss in detail the possible relation of 6

The English quotation of Diodorus is taken from C.H. Oldfather’s translation, available at the Perseus Project. 7 The fact that Solon, along with other personalities of the Archaic Period (perhaps the whole group of the Seven Sages), gave preference to ethics and politics in his thinking is close to the position expressed by Dicaearchus – as exposed by Diogenes Laertius (1,40) –, according to whom those personalities were not philosophoi, but simply sagacious people and legislators (ὁ δὲ Δικαίαρχος οὔτε σοφοὺς οὔτε φιλοσόφους φησὶν αὐτοὺς γεγονέναι, συνετοὺς δέ τινας καὶ νομοθετικούς). 8 Jaeger (1926) 24–25: “Solons tiefes neues Erleben des Göttlichen entspringt der Erkenntnis eines sinnvollen immanenten Gesetzes, das in dem sozialen Leben der Menschen waltet und von selbst einen gerechten Ausgleich schafft, ähnlich wie wenige Jahrzehnte später der milesische Naturphilosoph Anaximander kühn eine immanente δίκη und τίσις in der Natur lehrt, die das Werden und seine Ungerechtigkeit durch das Vergehen der Dinge wieder kompensiert”. The same pattern of argumentation is adopted by Schadewaldt (1933) 58; Gentili (1975) 160; Alt (1979) 397. More recently, Lewis (2006) 46–47 holds that the verses under consideration “provide the raw material for an archaic understanding of causal necessity, which may share a common heritage with the explanations of the Presocratic philosophers”. Noussia (2006) 144–146 is unequivocal in accepting the influence of Anaximander and states that “Solon’s principal idea of justice, dikê, as something ‘natural’ and his identification of it with the ‘stability’ of the sea when disturbing winds are absent was precisely the value dikê had in the cosmological system of Anaximander” (144). Noussia–Fantuzzi (2010) 312–313, extends the same naturalistic speculations to Anaximenes and Heraclitus as well. 9 For more details on this, see Leão (2001) 246–250; 275–277.

PLUTARCH ON SOLON’S SIMPLICITY

233

Solon and Anaximander. For now it is enough to underline that Solon is not necessarily as simplistic or naïve as Plutarch maintains in the way he approaches the physical causality of natural phenomena – on the contrary, he is probably in line with the contemporary meteorological speculations of Ionian philosophy10. The analysis will now examine more directly the way the image of natural causality presented in those two fragments can be harmonized with Solon’s ethical and political perspectives. In fact, changes to the natural kosmos are part of a cause and effect reasoning that the imagery taken from meteorology helps to visualize: snow and hail are generated by the cloud (ἐκ νεφέλης πέλεται χιόνος μένος ἠδὲ χαλάζης), just as thunder comes from the lightning’s flash (βροντὴ δ’ ἐκ λαμπρᾶς γίνεται ἀστεροπῆς). In fr. 12, the same principle that explains the agitation of the sea as a natural consequence following a stormy wind (ἐξ ἀνέμων δὲ θάλασσα ταράσσεται) is transposed to the human sphere through an unexpected term used by the poet to illustrate the undisturbed quietness of the liquid surface: dikaiotate, ‘the most righteous’11. With this bold metaphor and the skilful use of a word particularly connoted with the political and social sphere, Solon maintains that the same basic notion of dike operates both in nature and among men. What happens with the sea happens as well with the social body: in fact, the ‘calmness of the sea’ is a vivid metaphor to express the social and political ideal of a community ruled by good norms, like the concept he develops most especially in fr. 4 (Eunomia)12. By presenting frs. 9 and 12 in juxtaposition as if they constituted a single poem, Plutarch therefore most probably intends to emphasize the naturalistic context of the way Solon conceives the polis.

10 Although this could also be implicit in Plutarch’s mind when he states (3,6) that, in what concerned ethics and politics, Solon behaved “like most of the wise men of the time” (ὥσπερ οἱ πλεῖστοι τῶν τότε σοφῶν). 11 Lewis (2006) 157 translates the expression πάντων ἐστὶ δικαιοτάτη as “is the justest (most calm) of all things”. Gentili (1975) 160–161 underlines the notion of “equilibrio statico” transmitted by the term δικαιοτάτη, and calls attention to the Latin parallel mare aequatum (cf. Varro, LL 7,23) as a particularly suitable equivalent to the Greek expression. Reggiani (2013) 17 suggests that this poem has a cosmogonic overtone that evokes the idea of euthesia (“correta stabilità”) and eukosmia of the primordial waters. 12 As pointed out by Masaracchia (1958) 301–302, who further underlines (300) that the idea of comparing a mass of people to the sea, either calm or turbulent – when it is troubled by some external factor like the wind – is already present in Homer (e.g. Il. 2,144–145; 394–397). For a more extensive analysis of frs. 4 (Eunomia) and 13 (Elegy to the Muses), and the way they expand Solon’s ideas on an orderly polis and on the relation between cause and effect / misdeed and punishment, see Leão (2001) 409–416; 428–434.

234

DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO

In lines 3–6 of fr. 9 (not preserved by Plutarch but transmitted by Diodorus), the legislator warns the demos against the dangers of autocratic rule, thus providing an aetiological interpretation for natural phenomena in a socio-political setting. When he sets the context for the poem, Diodorus (9,20) notes that, with this elegy, Solon sought to alert the Athenians to the menace of the imminent Peisistratid tyranny13. The excessive influence of some powerful men causes the ruin of the polis (ἀνδρῶν δ’ ἐκ μεγάλων πόλις ὄλλυται) because it alters the natural social balance, just as the excessive concentration of authority in one person (μονάρχου) results in the servitude of the other citizens (δῆμος ἀϊδρίηι δουλοσύνην ἔπεσεν)14. That is why Solon insists upon the idea of ‘restraining’ (κατασχεῖν) the action of a would-be tyrant, before it is too late15. In fact, the installation of a tyrant and the consequent loss of liberty imply the destruction of the very idea of ‘true political dike’16. In frs. 4,24–25 and 36,7 slavery is not a metaphor, but a harsh reality with which the Athenians had to deal before Solon’s archonship. Because he managed to overthrow this state of affairs by his political measures (the cancelling of debts and the prohibition of debt bondage), he now feels obliged, in his old age, to warn his fellow citizens against the risk of a different (but equally degrading) kind of slavery – which would be aggravated by the fact that this time it would embrace the whole demos. In what respects natural phenomena, it is not possible for men to intervene in order to change the weather patterns, but with social and political phenomena, the community has the real possibility of acting. Therefore, failing to do this is simply a sign of stupidity or, at the very best, of ignorance.

13 Rihll (1989) argues that this poem, as well as frs. 10 and 11, refer to Draco and not to Pisistratus. However, the ancient testimonies are much more favourable to the second hypothesis – and hence to the idea that the poems were composed after Solon’s archonship – and there are in fact no compelling reasons to go against this interpretation. On the tradition of Solon’s theatrical behaviour in his opposition to the tyranny of Pisistratus, see Leão (2008). 14 In this context, the term demos is particularly comprehensive as it covers the whole citizen-body with the exception of the monarchos, thus deepening the gap between the demos and the imposing hegemon. Lewis (2006) 110–111 argues in favour of the reading τυράννου over μονάρχου in line 3 of fr. 9. Diodorus has μονάρχου in the passage quoted (as does Diogenes 1,50), but elsewhere (19,1,4) he has τυράννου. Noussia-Fantuzzi (2010) 315–316 underlines that tyrannos would have been the natural expectation as a term more common than monarchos, although the latter might have seemed more suitable to Solon to express the idea of power monopolized by one single person. 15 Behm (2009) 179–180 says that the verb κατέχειν is used in order to keep the balance or the kosmos, thus preventing the lack or the excess (the “Zuviel” and the “Zuwenig”) of intervention on the part of the masses. Cf. frs. 9,3–6 and 37,7–10. 16 To use the expression of Almeida (2003) 201.

PLUTARCH ON SOLON’S SIMPLICITY

235

Along with fr. 9, frs. 10 and 11 are presented in their testimonies as warnings against the tyranny of Pisistratus – either when it was only a threat or when it was already a reality17. That the idea of tyranny was very present in Solon’s poetry is undisputed, even if his feelings towards this form of government are not always unequivocal18. Taking as reference again the Vita Solonis, it is worth mentioning that Plutarch insinuates quite clearly (Sol. 14,8–9), when introducing the poems with which Solon addresses his critics (frs. 32 and 33, the so-called tetrameters to Phocus), that the statesman might have felt the temptation of becoming a tyrant – or at least some of his supporters must have had that expectation at some time during the archonship. Plutarch denies that the statesman wanted to become a tyrant, but the way he describes Solon’s behaviour suggests that his form of government was at least quite ‘forceful’. The passage where he makes those commentaries is worth being quoted, because Plutarch’s words are interwoven with Solon’s verses in order to provoke a more impressive effect (Sol. 15,1): Ταῦτα τοὺς πολλοὺς καὶ φαύλους περὶ αὐτοῦ πεποίηκε λέγοντας. οὐ μὴν ἀπωσάμενός γε τὴν τυραννίδα τὸν πρᾳότατον ἐχρήσατο τρόπον τοῖς πράγμασιν, οὐδὲ μαλακῶς οὐδ’ ὑπείκων τοῖς δυναμένοις οὐδὲ πρὸς ἡδονὴν τῶν ἑλομένων ἔθετο τοὺς νόμους· ἀλλ’ ᾗ μὲν ἀρεστὸν ἦν, οὐκ ἐπήγαγεν ἰατρείαν οὐδὲ καινοτομίαν, φοβηθεὶς μὴ “συγχέας παντάπασι καὶ ταράξας τὴν πόλιν, ἀσθενέστερος γένηται τοῦ καταστῆσαι πάλιν” (fr. 33a) καὶ διαρμόσασθαι πρὸς τὸ ἄριστον· ἃ δὲ καὶ λέγων ἤλπιζε πειθομένοις καὶ προσάγων ἀνάγκην ὑπομένουσι χρήσεσθαι, ταῦτ’ ἔπραττεν, ὥς φησιν αὐτός (fr. 36,16)· ὁμοῦ βίην τε καὶ δίκην συναρμόσας. Thus he represents the multitude and men of low degree as speaking of him. However, though he rejected the tyranny, he did not administer affairs in the mildest possible manner, nor in the enactment of his laws did he show a feeble spirit, nor make concessions to the powerful, nor consult the pleasure of his electors. Nay, where a condition was as good as it could well be, he applied no remedy, and introduced no innovation, “fearing lest, after utterly confusing and confounding the city, he should be too weak to establish it again” and recompose it

17

Noussia-Fantuzzi (2010) 309–311 rightly states that, although the testimonies favour the identification of the threat with Pisistratus, an expression like ἀνδρῶν δ’ ἐκ μεγάλων (fr. 9,3) can designate broadly the aristocrats whom the demos has incautiously raised to power. 18 On the ambiguity of the language on tyranny in Solon’s poems, see Irwin (2005) 205–261.

236

DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO

for the best. But those things wherein he hoped to find them open to persuasion or submissive to compulsion, these he did, “Combining both force and justice together”. Taking as a backdrop this ‘forceful way of ruling’, I would now like to return to the image of the undisturbed quietness of the sea’s surface, which Solon describes in fr. 12,2 as δικαιοτάτη: ‘the most righteous’, ‘the most just’ or ‘the most calm’19. Although the justification for this bold metaphor has caught the attention of scholars quite often, it has never been suggested, as far as I know, to establish a link with an anecdote dealing with Periander – registered as well by Plutarch in the Septem Sapientium Convivium (147C) – regarding the expression ‘lopping off the heads’ (κολούσεις τῶν ἄκρων). According to Plutarch, it was Thrasybulus who gave this advice to Periander20. The expression is applied, in a political context, to the immoderation characteristic of tyranny and to the temptation of getting rid of other (aristocratic) adversaries who could dispute power. As a result from that action, powerful citizens were eliminated and all members of the community were put at the same level, under the supervision of the tyrant. Solon’s image of the quiet and undisturbed surface of the sea as the ‘most righteous’ and natural situation has recognizably a very different inspiration, but maybe its ultimate motivation is not that far away from the image of an orderly and well-arranged field, where no plant was allowed to be more prominent than the other. In the first case, this goal was attained through the excessive and arbitrary bia of a tyrant, while in the second, it was granted “ὁμοῦ βίην τε καὶ δίκην συναρμόσας”, to use Solon’s own words, which may well constitute a discreet affirmation of the ‘tyrannical’ power of law. To sum up: contrarily to other sources, Plutarch presents Solon’s frs. 9 and 12 in juxtaposition, as if they constituted a single poem, arguing that those verses illustrate the ‘simplistic’ philosophical thinking of the Athenian poet. However, by stating this, Plutarch is most probably just intending to emphasize the naturalistic context of the way Solon conceives the polis. In fact, in what respects natural phenomena, it is not possible for men to intervene in order to change the weather patterns,

19 Masaracchia (1958) 301; Noussia-Fantuzzi (2010) 320 suggest a comparison with Herodotus, 7,16,5, for a similar metaphoric reference to the quietness the sea, probably the oldest datable reference after Solon. Herodotus uses a different adjective (χρησιμωτάτη), although as well in superlative, like the Solonian δικαιοτάτη. 20 Herodotus (5,92,6) also says that Thrasybulus made this suggestion to Periander. However, according to Aristotle (Pol. 5,1311a20–22), it was Periander who gave the advice to Thrasybulus rather than vice versa. On the use of this expression, see Salmon (1997).

PLUTARCH ON SOLON’S SIMPLICITY

237

but with social and political phenomena, the community has the real possibility of acting. Therefore, failing to intervene is, at the very best, a sign of ignorance and sometimes even of foolishness. Solon has perceived this and even if he did not want to become a tyrant, he nevertheless may have enacted the ‘tyrannical’ power of law – as is suggested by the term δικαιοτάτη used by him to describe the quietness of the sea’s surface –, thus providing a paradigmatic illustration of Plutarch’s conception of a lawgiver and of his ‘forceful’ way of ruling. Delfim Ferreira Leão Universidade de Coimbra Bibliography Almeida, J.A. (2003), Justice as an Aspect of the Polis Idea in Solon’s Political Poems. A Reading of the Fragments in Light of the Researches of New Classical Archaeology, Leiden. Alt, K. (1979), “Solons Gebet zu den Musen”, Hermes 107, 389–406. Behm, W.-D.G. (2009), Solon von Athen und die Entdeckung des Rechts, Würzburg. Blok, J.H. – Lardinois, A.P. (eds.) (2006), Solon of Athens. New historical and philological approaches, Leiden. Gentili, B. (1975), “La giustizia del mare: Solone, fr. 11D., 12 West. Semiotica del concetto di dike in greco arcaico”, QUCC 20, 159–162. Irwin, E. (2005), Solon and Early Greek Poetry. The Politics of Exhortation, Cambridge. Jaeger, Werner (1926), “ΗΜΕΤΕΡΗ ΔΕ ΠΟΛΙΣ. Solons Eunomie”, SPA 25, 69–85 [= Eisenhut, W. (ed.) (1970), Antike Lyrik, Darmstadt, 7–31]. Leão, D.F. (2001), Sólon. Ética e política, Lisboa. Leão, D.F. (2008), “A Sophos in Arms: Plutarch and the Tradition of Solon’s Opposition to the Tyranny of Pisistratus”, in Ferreira, J.R. – Van der Stockt, L. – Fialho, M.C. (eds.), Philosophy in Society. Virtues and Values in Plutarch, Leuven and Coimbra, 129–138. Leão, D.F. (2010a), “The Seven Sages and Plato”, in Giombini, S. – Marcacci, F. (eds.), Il quinto secolo. Studi di filosofia antica in onore di Livio Rossetti, Aguaplano, 403–414. Leão, D.F. (2010b), “A tradição dos Sete Sábios: o sapiens enquanto paradigma de uma identidade”, in Leão, D.F. – Ferreira, J.R. – Fialho, J.R., Paideia e Cidadania, Coimbra, 47–110. Lewis, J.D. (2006), Solon the Thinker. Political Thought in Archaic Athens, London. Masaracchia, A. (1958), Solone, Firenze. Noussia, M. (2006), “Strategies of persuasion in Solon’s elegies”, in Blok, J.H. – Lardinois, A.P. (eds.), Solon of Athens. New Historical and Philological Approaches, Leiden, 134–156.

238

DELFIM FERREIRA LEÃO

Noussia-Fantuzzi, M. (2010), Solon the Athenian. The Poetic Fragments, Leiden. Reggiani, N. (2013), “Giustizia e misura. Le riforme di Solone fra polis e cosmo”, in Gheller, V. (ed.), Ricerche a confronto. Dialoghi di Antichità Classiche e del Vicino Oriente, Milano, 13–22. Rihll, T.E. (1989), “Lawgivers and Tyrants (Solon, frr. 9–11 West)”, CQ 39, 277–286. Salmon, J.B. (1997), “ ‘Lopping off the Heads?’ Tyrants, Politics and the Polis”, in Mitchell, L.G. – Rhodes, P.J. (eds.), The Development of the Polis in Archaic Greece, London, 60–73. Schadewaldt, W. (1933), “Lebenszeit und Greisenalter im frühen Griechentum” [= (1960), Hellas und Hesperien, Zürich, 41–59]. West, M.L. (1992), Iambi et Elegi Graeci ante Alexandrum Cantati, vol. II, Oxford.

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

Index Nominum et Rerum abortion 121–123 abortives 129 Academy, see New Academy Academic ἐποχή and εὐλάβεια 63, 138 accident 62, 67 Aegospotami 137 Aelianus 76 Aemilius Paulus 146–147, 157, 160 aeromancy 135 aether 36, 91, 106 aetiology 130, 133 physical aetiology 17–19, 21, 73, 131–132, 138–139 Aetius 50, 90, 96, 180 Alcaeus 77 Alcibiades 156 Alcinous 32, 36, 43, 46, 185, 194 Alcman 100, 103–104 Alexander the Great 147, 149, 174 Ps.-Alexander of Aphrodisias 100 Alexandria 76 Alexandrian erudition 115 allegory 60 allegorical interpretation 67, 104, 224 alliteration 151–152, 216–217, 219–221, 223–224 Alps 158 amateur 15 ambition 187 Ammonius 43, 76–77 amulet 121–122 anacoluthon 134 analogy 34, 92, 114, 119, 121, 171, 182, 185, 188, 191–193 Anaxagoras 39, 91, 95, 136–137, 159, 161, 163, 180, 210 Anaximander 90, 193, 232–233 Anaximenes 93, 232 ancestral beliefs 171 anecdote 120, 123, 146, 236 anemia 123

animals 69, 80, 90–91, 99, 118–119, 121, 155, 163, 168 animal behaviour 12 animal instincts 119 animal sensation 37 animal world 118, 121 theriomorphic figures 167 theriomorphic representation 22 zoogonic similes 171, 174 anthropology 22, 179–181, 186, 188, 191–193 Antipater 105 antipathy 137 Antiquity 11–14, 20, 76, 81, 100, 111, 132, 146 ants 119 aphorism 124 Aphrodite 169, 225 Apollonides Tacticus 77–78 appetite 119–123 Apuleius 21, 101, 169 Aratus 5, 19–20, 87–89, 91–97, 149–150, 152, 159 Arcesilaus 63 Archilochus 99 architecture 12 Aristides Quintilianus 222 Aristophanes 77 Aristotle 12, 20–21, 30–33, 35–36, 39, 41, 50–53, 61, 68, 75, 78, 80–82, 91, 94–95, 100–101, 104–105, 114, 122, 124, 130, 133, 135, 169, 174–176, 180, 182, 189, 205, 216, 236 Aristotelian approach 37 Aristotelian causality 53, 68 Aristotelian echoes 175 Aristotelian language 36, 114 Aristotelian milieu 80 Aristotelian parallels 81 Aristotelian Platonism 124 Aristotelian Problemata physica 18, 21, 113, 130, 132

242

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

Aristotelian theory that cold is a στέρησις of heat 133 Aristotelian qualities (hot, cold, dry, wet) 32, 35, 45, 51 Aristotelian scholasticism 12 Aristotelian science 130 Aristotelian terminology 174, 176 Aristotelian tradition 49, 81, 84 Aristotelian vocabulary 68 Aristotelianism 97 Arius 185 Artemis 106, 188 arteries 171 arts 176 artists 89, 167, 171 astrology 146 astronomy 11–12, 14, 145 astronomers 95 astronomical events 163 astronomical phenomena 22, 155, 159 atheism 139 Athenaeus 76, 80 Athens 76, 84, 168, 227 Athenian army 158 Athenian legislator 227, 229 Athenian statesmen 227 Athenian poet (Solon) 236 Athenians 158, 162, 229–231, 234 Athryitus 77, 79–84 atmosphere 88 atmospheric sign 90 atomism 18, 29, 31–32, 37–42, 46, 48–51, 53–54 atomic entities 49 atomic particles 52 atomistic theory 171, 175 atomists 50 atoms 18, 30, 32, 41, 47, 49, 50–53, 175 Atropos 189–190 authenticity 113–114, 116 authority 163, 227, 234 philosophical authority 20 scientific authority 17, 20 traditional authority 81, 131 autogenesis (see also spontaneous generation) 171

babies 108–109, 120, 123 baccheus 225 balneology 132 bark-beetles 171, 175 bears 119, 167 beauty 31, 41, 43, 60, 88, 134, 184, 186 bees 118–119, 167 bestiality 122 bird 123, 173 birth 123, 145, 174–175, 189–190, 224 child-delivery 99 childbirth 121–123 monstrous births 17 bladder 91, 202 blood 80, 82, 91, 119 boar 107 boats 117 Boethus of Sidon 97 bowels 91, 202 brain 14, 92 breath 22, 91, 171, 174 breathing 78 brightness 88, 146, 150–151 bronze 100, 104–105 butterfly 22, 167, 169, 171–176 cabbage 169, 174 Caesar 145, 162–163 calculation 13, 44 calculability 30 calendar 88 Callimachus 115 Calypso 96 Camillus 157 cardiocentrism 92 Carthage 77 Carthaginians 132 caterpillar 169, 171–174 Catilinarian conspiracy 157 catoptrics 12 Catullus 158 causality 14, 16, 41, 53, 69, 131, 135, 137, 139, 233 Chaeronea 115, 120–121, 127, 194 chaos 199, 201, 204, 225 chiasm, chiasmus 216–218, 221–222

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM chicken 110 children 135–136 child-delivery, childbirth see birth choriamb 222, 225 chronology 33, 181, 206 chrysalis 169 Chrysippus 93 Cicero 133, 156 Cimbri 156, 158 classification 12, 14, 124, 200 Cleanthes 104, 180 Clemens of Alexandria 76 climate 91, 116 Clotho 189–190 cloud 90, 95, 135, 149–152, 158–159, 230–231, 233 cloud-formation 89 cloudiness 94 cloudless night 149, 159 clusters 19, 209 coal 122–123 cocoon 173 cognition 18, 58–59 cold 19–21, 29, 32, 34–38, 40, 45, 50–51, 53, 64, 66, 77–82, 94, 132–133, 139, 146, 152, 156, 158, 221 coldness 35–38, 50, 64 cooling 77, 221 coloration 135 colour 29, 37, 41, 46–48, 89, 91, 93–94, 160, 224–225 Colotes 18, 32, 45, 47–48, 53–54, 61, 63–64, 67, 70 combustion 80 combustibles 95 comet 135, 162–163 complexion 119 compositional technique 17, 23, 197 concoction 91 condensation 44, 93, 223 configurations 41, 46, 224 copper 99–100, 102–106 copper nails 99, 102–103 copulation 171 Corinth 159 corporeity 221–222 corporeal environment of the soul 172–173

243

corporeal part of the pre-cosmic world 186 corporeals 66 corpuscles 18, 30–33, 37, 41–42, 44, 46, 49–50, 52, 54 cosmos 12, 14, 16–18, 21–23, 63, 66, 91–92, 137, 143, 145, 185, 188, 190–193, 199, 201–202, 204–210, 216, 219, 224–225 cosmic body 203, 205, 208–209 cosmic spectacles 134 cosmogony 186, 193 cosmological framework 179–180, 185, 190 cosmology 22, 180, 189, 191–193 cow 121–122 cowardice 149 Crassus 157 crayfish 119 creation 11, 167, 172, 174–175, 186, 191–192, 204, 224 creatio ex nihilo 185 creator 31 creature 169, 171, 175, 191 Critias 136 Croesus 227 crown of the sun 94 cube 42–43 curiosity 12 Cyrenaics 64–65 Cyzicus 156 daemon, daimon, demon 11, 163, 182 Daimachus 137 Danjon scale 160 Dardanos 169 Darius 149 darkness 34, 95, 148–149, 151–152, 155–156, 159, 162–163 dawn 90, 92 daylight 149, 158 death 22, 145, 162–163, 167–168, 171, 173–174, 176, 184, 188, 191, 227 decay 20, 99, 100, 102, 107–108, 110, 189–190 deformity 192 deity 224

244

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

Delphic oracle 67 Delphic E 44 Demiurge 16, 32–33, 41, 43, 46, 204–206, 211 Democritus 18, 30, 32, 39, 40–41, 45, 47–51, 91, 114 Demosthenes 148 desiccation 109 destiny 164, 192 destruction 33, 50, 52, 234 devotion towards the divine (εὐσέβεια) 16, 21, 131, 138–139 dew 104 dialogue 15, 20, 43–44, 92, 100, 104, 199–203, 215–217 Delphic dialogues 37 Diana 106 Dicaearchus 232 dicretic 215, 225 digression 21, 43, 130, 155, 163, 207 Diodorus (in Aetius) 50 Diodorus Siculus 231–232, 234 Diogenes Laertius 62, 228–229, 232, 234 Dion 146–148, 156, 159–160 Dionysian mysteries 175 Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse 147, 162 Dionysius of Halicarnassus 114 Dionysus 172 Disarius 102, 105, 110 diseases 119, 122, 124 disorder 21, 186, 202 obsessive-compulsive disorder 123 mental disorder 123–124 Pica (eating disorder) 21, 123 dissections 12 divination 147 divinity 88, 221, 224–225 divine creation 11 divine entity 16, 224 divine intervention 136 divine manifestations 162 divine miracles 17 divine portent 137 divine signs 161 divine vengeance 158 dodecahedron 29, 42, 43 dogs 118–119 dragonflies 167

dreams 93 drinking-parties 131 drunkenness 19, 78 dualism 49, 69, 211 dualistic causality 137, 139 duality 187, 190 dung-beetles 167 dust 123, 158 dyad 45, 211 Dyrrhachium 157 earth 13, 29, 36–40, 42, 66, 90–92, 95, 106, 119, 121–123, 132, 134, 145, 183, 188–191, 202, 204–205, 214, 216–219, 223–225 earthiness 91 earthquake 157 echoes 151 eclipse 17, 22, 94–95, 146–149, 159–163 effect 11, 22, 35–39, 53, 64, 68, 77–78, 89, 94–95, 99, 105, 108–109, 116–117, 121, 123, 137, 157, 159, 201, 233 egg 110, 171–172, 174–175 Orphic egg 172 Egypt 11 Egyptian gods 63 elegy 229, 231, 233–234 elegiac verse 231 element 31, 34–36, 42, 44, 50–52, 64, 91, 107, 216, 218–220 elemental particles 45, 52 elemental properties 31, 41, 55 elemental transformation 43, 50, 52 elementary corpuscles 46, 54 ellipse 134 elliptic construction 96 emotion 148, 160, 187 Empedocles 20, 40, 50, 80, 91, 96, 205–210 empirical data 12, 97 encomium 44 entrails 121 ephebe 78 Epicurus 18, 32, 41, 45–48, 50–52, 61, 80, 93, 174 Epicureans 45, 53, 64 Epicurean account of the elements 41, 50

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM Epicurean atomism 48–49, 51, 53 Epicurean confidence in the senses 63, 67 Epicurean criticism of Democritus 41 Epicurean physics 45 Epicurean theories about the soul 173–174 Epicurean tradition 12 epidemics 84 epistemology 18, 57–61, 63, 70, 130, 138 epistemological distinction 58, 60 epistemological error 94 epistemological framework of Plato’s Timaeus 16, 69 epistemological framework of Plutarch’s De facie 199 epistemological gap 70 epistemological matrix of the problems 18 epistemological models 18, 58 epistemological progression 58 epistemological vocabulary 61 ontological-epistemological preconceptions/beliefs 17 epithet 100–101, 104 Eraton 76 Eros 169, 225 ethics 186, 230, 232–233 ethical metaphor 171 ethical conception of the human being 193 ethical part of philosophy 230 Etna 205, 219, 220, 222 Etruscans 132 etymology 83, 106, 174 Euripides 134, 211 Euripidean Zeus 210 Eustathius 102, 109–110 Euthydemus 99, 102, 107 evaporation 44, 117 excrement 121, 169 excretions 79 exegesis 17–19, 42–43, 46, 73 exegetical approach 97 exegetical format 19 exegetical method 87, 96 exegetical questions 201 exegetical writings 18

245

exhalation 90–91, 117, 129 experience 37, 39, 89, 94, 102, 119, 219, 221 experimentation 13 eyes 94, 104, 146, 157, 202 evil eye 123 eye-trouble 89 eyelid 89, 94 eyesight 104 fable 137 faculty 60–62, 65–66, 97, 186 fantasy 93 farmer 39, 66, 87–88, 135 fat 82 Fate 189–190 Favorinus 34, 40 female (see also woman) 78, 80, 83, 120 feminine 146 fetus 122–123 fever 39 fire 19, 29, 34, 36–37, 39, 42, 44, 50, 66, 68–69, 90–91, 93, 95–96, 108–109, 135, 155, 163, 169, 188, 204–205, 210, 216–217, 219–220, 222, 224–225 fiery bodies 220 fiery bubbles 135 fiery form of the sun 91 fiery nature of the Stoic Zeus 205 fiery nature of the soul 221 Firmus 171–172, 174–176 fishing 118 flame 96 flavour 41 flesh 83, 94, 99, 181, 223 flintstones 123 Florus, L. Mestrius 77, 80–82, 84, 130 flowers 157 flower wreaths 77 fluidity 29 fluids 14 flute 66 flute-players 39 food 119–120, 123 force 11, 91–93, 96, 157, 190, 236 forms 12, 32–34, 43–44, 46–47, 49, 57, 59–61, 63, 69, 90–91, 93, 167, 171–172, 186, 207, 225

246

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

fortune 147, 173 fruit 88, 162

Greeks 103, 132, 148, 159 grub 169

Galen 34–35 Gallus, C. Sulpicius 161 Gauls 132 Gellius 76 gems 169 generation 33, 43–44, 47–48, 51, 132, 171, 188–189, 191–192, 204, 206–207 generation of the cosmos 204, 207 spontaneous generation (see also autogenesis) 174 genre 14, 17–21, 67, 75, 130, 138, 147 genre of natural problems 18, 21 geography 12, 81 geographical boundaries 12 geographical locale 22 geographical phenomenon 22 geographical lore 83 geological phenomena 155 geometry 29 geometric account 18, 32, 37, 45, 53 geometric atomism 18, 29, 31–32, 37–38, 41–42, 46, 50, 53–55 geometric forms 33, 46 geometric properties 30, 46 geometric shapes 31, 40 god 11, 16, 31, 63, 65, 67, 136, 139, 157, 161, 164, 183, 185–187, 189, 191, 206–210, 231 goddess 106 goodness 31, 41 grass 119 Greco-Roman civilization 14 Greece 75, 167 Greek art 167, 170 Greek literature 15, 141, 176–177, 228–229 Greek Magical Papyri 110, 177 Greek philosophy 54, 71, 152, 213 Greek poetry 229, 237 Greek rationalism 11 Greek religion 177 Greek science 24–25, 141 Greek statesmen 21 Greek thinkers 11

haemorrhoids 122 hail 230–231, 233 haloes 135 haplography 84 harmony 91, 187, 207–208, 210 head 78, 123, 168, 182, 236, 238 headache 119, 122 health 13, 120–121, 124 healthful influence 104 healthy effects 123 healthy properties 119 heart 14, 62, 91–92, 121, 202 heat 34–37, 39, 49, 80, 82, 84, 91, 94, 99–100, 105, 107–110, 116–117, 132–133, 139, 157–158 heaven 88, 129, 134, 149, 162, 169, 190, 218, 223 celestial body 13, 106, 109–110, 145, 150 celestial phenomena 87–88, 161 celestial region 189 heaviness 39, 117 Hecuba 211 Heraclitus 93, 210, 232 hero 21–22, 156–159, 161–163 Herodotus 79, 114, 228, 236 Hesiod 77, 87, 210–211 hexahedron 29, 38 hierarchy 181–182, 188, 190, 192 hinds 121–122 Hippocrates 122–123 historicity 228, 232 history 11–15, 84, 114, 180, 227–229 hollows in the sun 89 Homer 90, 95–96, 99–100, 167, 233 Homeric epithets 100, 104 Homeric language 229 homonymy 217 honeycombs 119 horizon 90, 92 horse 67–68, 157 humanity 145–146, 161 human being 21–22, 48, 80, 145–146, 163–164, 174, 180–182, 185, 190, 192–193

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM human body 37–38, 48, 171, 173, 176, 183–184, 191 humankind 145 humidity 99, 175 humidifying power of the moon 99–100 hunger 120, 122–123 hunting 118 hypochondrium 122 hypomnema 203, 209–211 Iamblichus 31, 45 icosahedron 29, 42 ignorance 136, 158, 161–163, 231, 234, 237 Ilithyia 188 illness 94, 119 illusion 89, 93 image 60, 66, 68–69, 91, 95, 157, 192, 227, 233, 236 imagery 68, 135, 233 imagination 61, 227 imaginary influence of the moon on human lives 145 imitation 60, 69–70, 101, 175, 201 immoderation 236 impression 64, 89, 93–94, 149, 151, 204 incineration 83–84 India 83 infinity of the universe 217 ingestion 121–123 insect 168, 171–172, 174 instinct 119 instrument 61, 70, 138, 158 intellect 60–62, 66, 180–184, 186, 190, 192–193, 219, 221, 223 intellection 57, 60, 62, 65–66, 70 intelligibility 186, 193 intelligibles 46, 58–60, 62, 66–70 Ion 99–100 Ionian philosophy 232–233 iron 69, 91, 104, 123 irrationality 181, 187, 192 ivy 77 justice

232, 236

Kepler

15, 223

247

laboratories 13 Lachesis 189–190 lactation 78 lakes 155 Lamprias 44, 200, 205–207, 215–219, 221–225 Lamprias Catalogue 19, 33, 76, 114–115 lapis lazuli 123 laurel 77 law 13, 227–228, 230, 235–237 lawgiver 231, 237 legislator 227–229, 232, 234 universal laws 13 laxative 99, 110 Leitmotif 216, 218, 224 lekythoi 167, 168 Libya 157 lightning 156–157, 230–231, 233 linguistics 14 liquids 78, 119, 121 liquefaction 223 litotes 218 liver 91 lore 83, 87, 179 folklore 176 love 65, 122, 136, 169, 225 Lucian 176 Lucretius 133 Lucullus 156, 159 Macrobius 20–21, 76–77, 101–110 macrocosmos 180, 185, 193 magic 11 magical love spells 169 man 14, 17, 21–22, 47, 68, 82, 88, 162–164, 180–181, 185, 187, 191–193, 227, 231 male animals 80 male body 82 males 80 Marius 157–158 marvel 21, 132–134, 136, 138 marvelling 133 marvellous phenomena 14, 90, 133, 135, 150–151 materiality 183–184 mathematics 11, 14, 43

248

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

mechanics 12 medicine 11, 14 memory 39, 75, 77 menstruation 78, 82 Mesopotamia 11 metaphor 22, 30, 66, 68–69, 171, 175–176, 229, 233–234, 236 metaphysics 17, 27, 39, 68, 189 meteorite 137 meteors 129, 135 meteorology 20, 233 meteorological marvels 136 meteorological phenomena 12, 22, 135–137, 147, 155–156, 163 meteorological speculations 233 methodology 12, 129, 206, 228 methods 200, 209, 217 Metrodorus 91 mice 167 microcosmos 180, 191, 193 microcosmism 180, 185, 191–193 micturition 79 Minoan age 169 Minoan arts 176 miracles 17 mirabilia 83, 97, 137–138 miraculous phenomena 137 mirror 69, 95, 182, 202, 203 Mithridates 156, 159 mixture 50–52, 62, 188, 211 modernity 16 moisture 78, 96, 99, 105, 107–109 monad 44 monas 190 moon 15, 17, 19, 23, 69, 88, 91–92, 95, 99–101, 103–110, 135, 145–151, 157–160, 183, 188–193, 205, 215– 220 moonlight 20, 22, 69, 99, 102, 109, 146, 148–150, 152, 158–159 Moschion 99–100, 102–103, 105, 107, 110 mountains 157 muses 229, 233 music 12, 14 musician 76 Mycenaean arts 176 myth 104, 106, 162, 169, 172, 179,

181, 189, 191–192, 201, 203, 216, 223 mythography 17 mythology 11, 136, 139 mythological accounts 139 mythological expositions 191 mythological personification 104 mythological symbolism 176 nails 99, 102–103, 122 nausea 119–121 navigation 116–117 necessity 53, 64, 183, 190, 201, 211, 221, 225, 232 New Academy 17 Nicander 87 Nicias 147–149, 160–161, 163–164 Nicomachus 45 nourishment 80–81 nutrition 118 nurse 108–109, 202 objectivity 13 observation 12, 82–83, 93–94, 97 observational knowledge 12 octahedron 29, 42, 44 Odysseus 96 ointment 82, 84 omen 17, 156, 161–163 ontology 18, 49, 58, 60, 130 opinable 59, 62, 68, 189 opinion 12, 18, 40, 57–66, 68, 70, 189 optics 12 optical illusion 89, 93 originality 203 Osiris 65 paeon 220–221, 225 pain 122, 181 paradox 132 paradoxography 138 paradoxographers 138 paradoxographical phenomena paralysis 147, 149 parhelions 95 Parmenides 61–62, 80, 84, 210 parody 175–176

138

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM particle 43–46, 50, 52, 93–94, 96 passion 173, 181–182, 184, 192–193, 201 pastiche 175 pathology 122 patient 119 pebble 91, 121–122 Peisistratus, Pisistratus 231, 234–235 Peisistratid tyranny 234 Pelopidas 146–147, 156, 161 pentagon 42 perception 12–13, 29, 39–40, 46, 64, 93–95, 97, 227–228 perceptibility 188 perceptible elements 66 perceptible objects 65 perceptible properties 29 sublunary region of the perceptible 189 Periander 236 Pericles 136, 146–147, 159, 161, 163 Peripatetics 133, 216 Peripatetic circles 80 Peripatetic diaspora of science 124 Peripatetic imprint of Quaestiones naturales 122 Peripatetic knowledge 141 Peripatetic school 105 Peripatetic science 130, 142 Peripatetic tradition 114, 129 persuasion 16, 62, 236 pessimism 229 pharmacological procedures 87 Pharnaces 215–217, 222 Philo 205 Philochorus 149 Philolaus 45, 91 philosophy 47, 57–58, 65–66, 68, 129, 133, 135, 137–139, 203, 205, 221, 230, 232–233 natural philosophy 11–15, 17–18, 23, 45, 58, 66, 69, 135–136, 199, 201, 209, 227 philosopher 12, 14, 21, 39, 51, 58–59, 61, 66–68, 90, 93, 96, 106, 115, 120–121, 129, 169, 199, 202, 221, 232 natural philosopher 39, 58, 66–67, 69–70

249

philosophia prima 131, 139 philosophic maxims 230 philosophical concepts 17 philosophical dialogues 200 philosophical discourse 126–127, 141 philosophical knowledge 57 philosophical school 131 philosophical thinking 17, 230, 236 philosophical tradition 20, 29, 79 philosophical writings 13, 15–16, 18, 23, 131 phlegm 119 Phocus 235 physician 39, 66, 77, 79, 84, 99, 103, 106 physics 17, 27, 45–46, 53, 203, 230 physiology 12, 19, 82 pigs 119 Pindar 95 plague 84, 162 plant 47, 91, 99, 155, 236 Plato 12, 16, 18, 23, 29, 30–43, 45–46, 49–54, 58–63, 65, 67–68, 70, 75, 90–93, 114, 120, 133, 137, 172–173, 175, 180, 182, 184–185, 188–189, 191, 199–206, 211–212, 218, 224–225 Platonic circles 36 Platonic dialectic 217 Platonic dialogues 199, 201–203 Platonic dogma 17 Platonic epistemology 138 Platonic forms 34 Platonic idea 46, 218, 222 Platonic interpretation 207 Platonic myths 212–213 Platonic ontology 18, 49, 130 Platonic schools 36 Platonic tradition 12, 31 Platonism 12, 97, 124, 130, 222, 224 Platonist 22, 32, 92, 97, 221, 225 Platonists 12, 31, 38, 46, 204, 207, 219 Platonist doctrine 46 Platonist dualism 49 plausibility 16, 48 plausible answer 64 plausible explanation 12, 92, 123, 129 plausible statements 40–41 pleonasm 220

250

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

Pliny the Elder 90, 96, 100, 103, 107, 108, 121, 122 Plotinus 36, 49 poetry 17, 83, 110, 227–231, 235 poem 19–20, 87–88, 96, 228–231, 233–236 poet 15, 19, 67, 87–88, 96, 104, 120, 124, 134, 228–230, 232–233, 236 polis 229, 233–234, 236 politics 120, 230, 232–233 politician 22, 120, 155 polyhedra 29–33, 40, 42–44, 51, 53 polyhedric elements 33 polyhedric shapes 18, 33 polyhedron 29, 42–43 polyptoton 217, 224 Pompey 148–149, 163 pores 96 porousness 84 porous body of women 78 Porphyry 106 portent 137, 147, 156–157, 161 portentous events 155, 157 pottery 168 power 22, 34–35, 37, 40, 51, 60–61, 68–70, 99–100, 103–104, 106, 119, 145–146, 155, 161, 169, 172, 183, 185, 188–189, 211, 227, 234–237 Pre-Socratics 11 presocratic philosophers 232 pregnancy 121–123 pregnant women 81, 119–124 prisms 33 privation 34–35, 133 prolepsis 218 prophetic art 135 psyche 169, 171, 174, 176 psychological disease 122 psychology 22, 147, 184 Ptolemaeus 90 purposefulness 41 pyramid 29, 42, 44 Pythagoras 180 Pythagorean discussion 171 Pythagorean tones 222 Pythagorean view 32 Pythagoreans 32, 45, 91

question-and-answer format

18

rain 90, 95, 156 rainbow 135–136 ram 69 raphanus 169, 174 rarity 133 rationality 181, 184, 186, 192 rational approach 11 rational attitude 135 rational devotion 21, 138–139 rational explanations 138, 145 rationalism 11, 16 ravens 167 ray of light 20, 88–89, 92, 94–95, 99 reductio ad absurdum 175 regularity 33, 41, 88 reincarnation 173 religion 11 religious contexts 159 religious discourse 13 religious dread 147 religious lore 179 religious outlook on the world 139 Renaissance 12 rhetoric rhetorical devices 23, 217 rhetorical embellishment 134 rhetorical idiom 16, 130 rhetorical questions 134–135, 221, 224 rhetorical strategies 16–17 rhetorical training 132 rhythm 215, 225 rhythmic elements 225 rhythmic ending 223 rhythmic link 219 rituals 120 river 79, 116–117, 124, 155, 157 Rome 75, 162 Roman army 157–158 Roman citizenship 77 Roman empire 12, 24, 129, 141 Roman philosophy 71 Roman statesmen 21 Romans 132, 148, 156–159 Romulus 162 rue 81

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM sacrifice 69, 147, 159, 161 sage 23, 171, 232 sailor 88, 120 Salamis 229 salt 116 saline content in the sea 116 salinity 117 saltiness 117 sanctuaries 123 Satyrus 99, 102 scepticism 17 school 12, 20, 36, 38, 61, 97, 105, 131, 222 science 11–15, 19, 90, 124, 129–130, 141, 159, 161, 203, 232 scientific authority 17, 20 scientific concepts 13 scientific digression 21, 130, 155, 163 scientific disciplines 14 scientific discourse 17, 23 scientific exercises 131 scientific innovation 126, 141, 213 scientific inquiry 12, 13, 17, 19, 132 scientific insight 135, 137 scientific knowledge 13, 14, 16, 17 scientific literature 138 scientific lore 179 scientific method 12, 129 scientific research 19, 57 scientific tradition 24, 97 scientific value 15, 23, 130 scientific writing 15, 16, 18, 130, 131 scientificity 15 scientist 87, 124, 137 sea 155, 157, 236–237 seasons 88, 117 seed 39, 42, 44, 66, 81, 96, 171, 174–175 seer 69, 157, 161 seisachtheia 229 Selene 104 Seneca 95, 115, 133, 135–136 Senecio, Q. Sosius 75–76 sensation 14, 37, 63, 89, 94, 201 sense-impressions 64 sense-perception 12, 39, 57, 62–64, 66–67, 93–94, 97 sense of smell 119 senses 39–40, 47–48, 63–67, 220

251

sensible objects 46, 60 sensible realm 61 sensible world 58, 67, 69 sensibles 58–60, 62–63, 66–70 sensory faculties 97 sensory world 58 shadow 89, 93–95, 148–151, 158, 160, 167 sharpness 30 shivers 82 Sicilians 148–149 Simplicius 31–33, 50 skin 80, 82, 91, 122, 205, 220 sky 90, 92, 95–96, 129, 148, 150, 217–218 sleep 84 snake 169 Socrates 34, 62, 182, 195 soldiers 146, 148–149, 151–152, 156–157, 159, 161, 163 solids 18, 43, 65 Solon 23, 227–237 sonority 151–152 Sophocles 146 soul 17, 21–22, 47–48, 63, 65–66, 93, 167–169, 171–174, 176, 180–193, 201, 203–209, 211, 217, 219, 221–224 appetitive part of the soul 187 cosmic soul 185–186, 203–208 human soul 17, 167–169, 171–172, 176, 181, 185–187 transmigration of the soul 173–174, 176 trichotomy of the soul 180–181, 189 world soul 174, 185–187, 191–193, 201, 206, 211 spectacle 16, 134 spectacular phenomena 135 spectator 134 speed 217 spells 169 sphere 192, 208, 233 spondee 219–222 spontaneous generation (see also autogenesis) 174 springs (hot and cold) 21, 132–133, 136, 139 Stagirite 12, 174 star 88, 90, 93–95, 103, 157, 163, 188, 202, 215, 217–218, 220

252

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM

statesman 21–22, 120, 155, 157, 159, 161–163, 227–228, 230–231, 235 Stesichorus 95 Stobaeus 50, 184 Stoicism 92, 97, 224 Stoics 40, 90, 93, 96, 205–207, 211, 216–219, 221–222 Stoic terminology 211 Stoicizing allusion 102 anti-Stoic attitude 137 anti-Stoic dualism 211 stone 92, 119–123 storm 95–96, 156–157, 162, 205, 230 stormy wind 233 Strato 40 strife 205 stupidity 234 stylistics 134 stylistic analysis 23, 215 stylistic devices 216 stylistic feature 114 stylistic procedures 215 stylistic resources 225 substance 19, 34–35, 37, 39–40, 47, 94, 123, 167, 172, 183, 186, 205, 223 Sulla, L. Cornelius 158 Sulla, Sextius 77–78, 84, 180–181, 201, 216, 223 summer 91, 96, 156, 159 sun 20, 69, 88–95, 99, 106–110, 135, 146, 157–158, 160, 162, 183, 188–192, 202, 220 sunlight 92 sunrise 156 sunset 90, 92, 94 superstition 21–22, 131–132, 135–139, 155–156, 161–162, 164 superstitious belief 132, 146–148 superstitious people 156 suspension of judgment 35, 40–41, 58, 63 sweat 78 sweating 158 sympathy 137, 145 symposium 19, 76–78 sympotic discussions 14, 16, 129 sympotic framework 130 sympotic questions 20, 77

sympotic scene 20 sympotic tradition 129 symposiasts 16, 20, 137 symptoms 121 syndrome 122–123, 124 Magpie Syndrome 123 Syracuse 147, 156 Syracusans 156 Syrianus 30 taste 29, 41 tears 78 technê 39 technician 39 technology 13 teleological explanation 41 teleological design of De facie 215 temperament 13, 20, 78 temperature 41 tetractys 222 tetrahedron 29, 43 tetrameters 235 text-genetic process 17 Thales 231 Thebes 156 theodicy 192 Theodorus of Soloi 42–44, 46 theology 131 theological views 192 Theon 104 Theophrastus 62, 87, 91, 96 therapies 122 Thessalian women 146 Thrace 79, 83 Thrasybulus 236 Thucydides 84 thunder 138, 156–157, 230–231, 233 Timaeus (character in Plato’s Timaeus) 29, 32–33, 37–38, 199, 207–208 Timaeus 16, 29, 31–32, 36–37, 42–43, 45–47, 49, 52, 63, 69, 92, 172, 182, 185, 191, 199–207, 209–211 Timaeus Locrus 32–33, 37 Timarchus 181, 189 Timon 174 Timotheus 100–101, 103 Timoxena 173

INDEX NOMINUM ET RERUM tradition 12, 20–21, 29–31, 46, 49, 75, 77, 79, 81, 83–84, 87, 97, 101, 103, 114–115, 118, 123, 129, 158–159, 162, 201, 229, 232, 234 traditional belief 138 traditional superstitions 155 Trajan 75–76 transcendence 30 transcendent region 189–190 triad 184, 192 triangle 29–33, 37–38, 40, 42–44, 52, 64 scalene triangles 29, 37–38, 42 tripartition 181, 184, 188–189 truffles 138 truth 62, 64, 66, 136, 159, 228, 231– 232 truth-claim 64 Tryphon 76–77 tsunami 157 turtles 119 twilight 94 tyranny 231, 234–236 tyrant 147, 234–237 unconsciousness 123 underworld 168 universe 16, 21–22, 91, 145, 180, 185, 187, 191–193, 202, 204–205, 207–208, 217, 222, 225 universal order 232 urine 78 uterus 121 vapor 92, 117 Varro 233 veins 171 Venus 220 Vergilius 90 viper 119 virtue 92, 161, 163, 171, 175, 183, 188–189, 192 virtuous human conduct 22 visibility 37, 224 vomit 119–120 vomiting 120–121

253

vultures 119 vulva 121 warmth 34, 91, 107 warm property 20 wasps 167 water 19, 29, 36, 40, 42, 44, 92, 116–117, 132, 155, 188, 204, 216, 225, 233 weather 156 weather patterns 234, 236 wind 90, 129, 156–157, 205, 230, 232–233 wine 19–20, 77–80, 84, 100 winter 81, 91, 95–96, 158 wintery storm 95 wisdom 68, 228, 231 wolves 118 woman (see also female) 19, 75, 77–85, 119–124, 146 womb 119 wonder 13, 94, 133–137, 161 wonder-inducing phenomena 138 wonderful phenomena 133, 135 wonders of nature 134 wondrous nature 138 wood 92, 96, 99, 108–109 woodworms 171, 175 world 11–17, 21–22, 31, 33, 36, 41, 43–44, 57–61, 64, 66–70, 87, 93, 118, 121, 130, 139, 145, 174, 185–187, 191–193, 201, 203–206, 211, 216, 224, 229, 232 two-worlds theory 58–63 world view 14, 16, 22, 130 wounds 104 Xenocrates 50–51, 180, 188–189 Xenophanes 90 Xenophon 75 Zeitgeist 16 zenith 160 Zeno 224 Zeugma 157 zeugmatic meaning 134 Zeus 19, 67, 104, 134, 156, 205, 209–211, 221, 224 Zoroaster 210