Wednesday, October 2, 2013

PHILOSOPHY IN THE TRAGIC AGE OF THE GREEKS


(By all means see also my entry Nietzsche And The Pre-Socratics in the Nietzsche section.)

The best introduction to the geniuses of pre-Socratic philosophy is undoubtedly given in Nietzsche’s great work Philosophy in the Tragic age of the Greeks, to which I have devoted a fairly lengthy entry Nietzsche And The Pre-Socratics, in the Nietzsche section, and I strongly recommend that the reader go back to it now, as its content is indispensable to the present section. Reluctant to be repetitious, I shall not quote that entry in full here, but some of these Nietzsche’s passages must be repeated here no matter what, especially now that I have started quoting them already in the previous entry. Needless to say, the focus of my notes in the Nietzsche section was Nietzsche ipse, whereas here, it is the pre-Socratics, and these different comments of mine, plus the essentiality of the subject matter to both sections, determine the legitimacy of having such extended quotations from Nietzsche repeated in both cases without being branded as redundant.

They all stand before us in magnificent solitude as the only ones who then devoted their life exclusively to knowledge. They all possess the virtuous energy of the Ancients whereby they excel the later philosophers in finding their own form and in perfecting it by metamorphosis in its minutest details and general aspect. For they were met by no helpful and facilitating fashion. Thus, together they form what Schopenhauer, in opposition to the Republic of Scholars, calls a Republic of Geniuses; one giant calling another across the arid intervals of ages, and undisturbed by a wanton noisy race of dwarfs creeping about beneath them the sublime intercourse of spirits continues.

The cynic might chuckle with delight at the opportunity here to interfere and bring down the whole bunch of the pre-Socratic geniuses on the grounds that we are discussing mythology, rather than factual reality, in this case, just as our Homer is not even a Homer, and so on. My opinion on the subject of such mythology is by now well known to the reader, and I shall not bother to repudiate such cynics any further.

Of this sublime intercourse of spirits, I have resolved to relate those items, which our modern hardness of hearing might perhaps hear and understand; meaning, certainly, the least of all. It seems to me that those old sages from Thales to Socrates have discussed in that intercourse, although in its most general aspect, everything which constitutes for our contemplation the peculiarly Hellenic. In their intercourse, as already in their personalities, they express distinctly the great features of the Greek genius, of which the whole of Greek history is a shadowy impression, a hazy copy, which, consequently, speaks less clearly. If we could rightly interpret the total life of the Greek nation, we should ever find reflected only that picture which in her highest geniuses shines with more resplendent colors.

It is understandable for Nietzsche, a classical philologist with a good knowledge of Greek and Latin, and a faithful student of the Ancient Greek culture, to focus specifically on the Hellenic element, whereas we can talk in broader terms about the pre-Socratics’ relevance to the foundations of our Western civilization as a whole. Not that Nietzsche is wrong in his focus, of course not, but my temptation to somewhat broaden the base of this discussion was too great not to have made this comment.

Other nations have their Saints, the Greeks have Sages. Rightly it is said that a nation is characterized not only by her great citizens but rather by the manner in which she recognizes and honors them. In other ages the philosopher is an accidental solitary wanderer in the most hostile environment-- either slinking through or pushing through with clenched fists. With the Greeks, though, the philosopher is not accidental; when in the Sixth and Fifth centuries, amidst the most frightful dangers and seductions of secularization, the Greek philosopher appears and steps forth from the cave of Trophonios [my comments on Trophonios in the Nietzsche section will be posted later on] into the very midst of luxuriance, the discoverers’ happiness, the wealth and the sensuousness of the Greek colonies ---then we perceive that they come as noble warners for the same purpose, for which Tragedy was born in those centuries, and which Orphic mysteries in grotesque hieroglyphics give us to understand. The opinion of those philosophers on Life and Existence means much more than a modern opinion, because they had before themselves Life in a luxuriant perfection, and because with them, unlike us, the sense of the thinker was not muddled by the disunion, engendered by the wish for freedom, beauty, fullness of life, and the love for truth that only asks: What is the good of Life at all? The mission that the philosopher has to discharge within a real Culture can’t be clearly conjectured out of our circumstances and experiences, for the simple reason that we have no such culture. It is only a Culture like the Culture of the Greeks that can answer the question, as to that task of the philosopher, only such a Culture can justify philosophy, because only such a Culture knows, and can demonstrate, why and how the philosopher is not an accidental chance wanderer, driven now hither, now thither. There is a steely necessity, which fetters the philosopher to a true Culture: but what if this Culture does not exist? Then, philosophers are incalculable and, therefore, terror-inspiring comets, whereas in the favorable case they shine as the central star in the solar system of Culture. It is for this reason precisely that the Greeks justify the philosopher because with them they are no comets.

There is a possibility here that Nietzsche is idealizing the Ancient Greek society’s benevolence towards its philosophers for the simple reason that they were not just philosophers, but preeminent scientists, military engineers, prognosticators, physicians, religious figures and leaders, and much more, in other words, they were awe-inspiring colossi, whom the society depended on for its wellbeing and even for its very existence. It was therefore not on account of the Greeks’ particular appreciation of philosophy as such that these sages were greatly honored, but there can be no doubt that the honorable profession of philosophical thinking did benefit from the comprehensive, all-embracing genius of the pre-Socratic giants.

After such contemplations, it will be accepted without offense if I speak of the pre-Platonic philosophers as of a homogeneous company, and devote this paper to them exclusively. Something quite new begins with Plato; or it might be said with equal justice that in comparison with that Republic of Geniuses from Thales to Socrates, the philosophers since Plato lack something essential.

The next paragraph explains what, in Nietzsche’s opinion, all pre-Socratics have that Plato and other greats who follow him are missing. The Republic of Geniuses from Thales to Socrates has the elemental integrity, each specimen totally unlike the others, and in this unique heterogeneity, purity of the type, they find their homogeneity, so that they can all be seen as a single company. A very interesting observation!

On the other hand, Plato, Aristotle, and the rest of them, are composite types, according to Nietzsche, in the sense that their philosophy has distinctive elements of eclecticism. This can be very helpfully compared to chemistry, where we find pure elements in nature, whose number is limited, and also compounds, in far-far larger numbers. We cannot say that all compounds are inferior to pure substances, but the latter are grouped together in the periodic table of the elements, unlike the compounds, and thus, particularly honored in their selective quality, as being alike, in the sense of being unlike all others.

Whoever wants to express himself unfavorably about the older masters, may call them one-sided, and their Epigones, with Plato as head, many-sided. Yet it would be more just and unbiased to conceive of the latter as philosophic hybrid characters and of the former as the pure types. Plato himself is the first magnificent hybrid character, and as such finds expression as well in his philosophy as in his persona. In his ideology are united Socratic, Pythagorean, and Heraclitean elements, and for this reason it is not a typically pure phenomenon. As a person, too, Plato mingles the features of the royally secluded, all-sufficing Heraclitus, of the melancholy compassionate and legislatory Pythagoras, of the psycho-expert dialectician Socrates. All later philosophers are hybrid characters; wherever something one-sided does come into prominence with them, as in the case of the Cynics, it is not type, but caricature. Much more important, however, is the fact that they are founders of sects, and the sects founded by them are all institutions in direct opposition to the Hellenic culture and to the unity of its style prevailing up to that time. In their own way, they seek a redemption, but only for the individuals, or at the best, groups of friends and disciples, closely connected with them. The activity of the older philosophers tends, although they were unconscious of it, towards a cure and purification on a large scale; the mighty course of Greek culture is not to be stopped; terrible dangers are to be removed out of the way of its current; the philosopher protects and defends his native country. Now, since Plato, he is in exile, and conspires against his fatherland.

The last portion of this paragraph is raising an extremely peculiar question: Are the pre-Socratics an organic part of their Hellenic society, whereas all later philosophers (with the most notable exception of the Italian Giovanni Gentile, at least in his initial idealistic period of glorifying il totalitarismo e fascismo) stand in isolation from, and in opposition to, their surroundings epitomizing the alienation of the individual from his society? An answer to this question should be a very difficult one, for at least two reasons. One, concerning post-Socratic philosophy, it is making too broad a generalization, although the temptation to agree with this familiar premise is too great, that in the universal conflict of man versus society philosophers are counted in the front ranks of “man.” The second reason is twofold of itself. On the one hand, we are too far removed from the pre-Socratic era to make an accurate judgment, contraposing pre-Socratic philosophy to the post-Socratics, and on the other seeing the pre-Socratics as Nietzsche sees them being integral and indispensable assets of their communities, we may wonder whether these renaissance men had been adequately honored by their communities and reciprocated that honor primarily on account of their enormous practical services, their philosophical contributions being secondary to their relationships, and perhaps benevolently tolerated by the community, rather than admired by it. Having said that, it is only proper for me to quote myself from the last paragraph of Nietzsche And The Pre-Socratics, in the Nietzsche section:

I will not be so presumptuous as to jump into agreeing with Nietzsche on the impeccable intellectual taste and the spiritual nobility of the Ancient Greeks, in treating their greatest thinkers as a superior caste. After all, it is very unfortunate, and indeed rather suspicious, that the works of the Pre-Socratic philosophers had not survived the ‘annorum series et fuga temporum in a much larger volume, if not in their entirety. But I am completely with Nietzsche in turning this Greek experience into a monumental history of the greatness of the Ancient Greek spirit, as a lesson to subsequent generation, as the gold standard of any nation’s value, a powerful “Plutarchian” example for all of us to look up to.

It is a real misfortune that so very little of those older philosophic masters has come down to us, and that all complete works of theirs are withheld from us…

This is indeed a misfortune, considering how much our knowledge of our cultural heritage could have been enriched, and how much we are therefore missing. But alas, such has been the will of fate, or as I had called it before, in Italian, and for a very good reason,--- la forza del destino.

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