Athenian Nights

              Lilith is the last fantasy novel that our father among the saints George MacDonald ever wrote and also his most theologically adventurous. It was published just 10 years before his death and one can see that he had been thinking a lot of what would come next after he died when he wrote this book, and the result is rather lovely. I first read this book several years ago when I first learned of George MacDonald. I read his Unspoken Sermons first and was amazed at the power, vitality, and truth within those pages, so I started picking up his fiction and Lilith was the first one I’d read. I will be the first to say that, even though he considered himself a poet, he was a much better preacher than a writer of fiction or poetry. He isn’t terrible, but he isn’t subtle, and I’ll just say that one doesn’t really read his books for the plot or characters. He is very heavy-handed and moralizes a lot and uses rather clunky...

              The next dialogue that I will comment upon is Euthydemus . It definitely has some pearls of wisdom in it, and I would recommend it, with some reservations though. This dialogue is not a failure on the part of Plato, in fact I think he wrote it quite well and it was a topic that necessarily had to be addressed. The only problem is the nature of the subject – it is beyond annoying, but that is not Plato’s fault, it’s just the nature of the beast and not even his monumental intellect and stylistic artistry could help things along much. A couple of themes adumbrated here are by now well-known: whether virtue can be taught, what the key to a happy life is, wisdom as the greatest gift God could bestow on man, etc. Also dealt with is the ambiguity of language, something I haven’t seen Plato address since Phaedrus , so I enjoyed that as well. The overarching topic though is to beware of fools who only pretend at being tru...

             Meno is another hard-hitting heavyweight of a dialogue like the last one I commented on, Protagoras . This is up there with the greats, but not quite as good as the last one. This is mainly due to the fact that the doctrine of anamnesis it touts is one I cannot accept, delightfully fanciful though it may be. Here we have an extended reflection on virtue where Socrates more clearly sets forth his position on the subject. What exactly virtue is and whether or not it can be taught are the main ideas in this dialogue and are focused on in a more laser like fashion than in Protagoras . There are also some surprisingly good epiphanies experienced along the way like when Meno realizes that we all desire good, none desires evil and when Socrates gives excellent pedagogical device. I’m fairly certain Meno would make the cut in my top ten dialogues and if not, it would be fairly close.           ...

              I have enjoyed reading and commenting upon the last few dialogues. There aren’t any Platonic dialogues that are bad, just that some rise head and shoulders above the rest. The shorter ethical works were beautiful in their own way and did address topics of real substance, but I haven’t read something as outstanding as the Protagoras in a while, probably since I read Timaeus or Parmenides . All of the main topics in this dialogue are now familiar to me as well trod ground in Platonism. This dialogue explores virtue in-depth and urges us to practice it and be careful to whom we open our souls to, they are fragile. Protagoras is most famous for Socrates and Plato’s unique and seemingly ridiculous doctrine that no one does evil voluntarily, also known as the denial of akrasia. Akrasia is the Greek word for the concept of going against one’s better judgment or knowledge or being weak in willpower. So, when Socrates de...

              I just finished reading Fahrenheit 451 by the prophetic Ray Bradbury this weekend and it was as exhilarating and inspiring as the first time. I remember my initial exposure to this when I was in the 7 th grade. I was part of a science fiction club and the teacher would either show a sci-fi movie, read from a sci-fi book or anthology, and we would discuss what we’d just digested. During one of these sessions the teacher recommended that we read this delightful short novel, and I consider this quite providential. I’d already had inchoate thoughts that tended towards Bradbury’s main idea in this story, but this really set me on fire for learning and especially reading, something I’ve kept with me and will treasure for the rest of my life. There are many different themes and sub-themes that are immaculately tied together here, but this is an overarching one that informs them all. At the heart of the story is the ide...

  Ion is one of the shortest dialogues in all of Plato’s work and, I must say, it was delightful to read. It was a welcome break from the more intellectually heady stuff that hurts your brain, but still dimly sheds some light on Platonic truths that are mirrored in other dialogues. It begins with Socrates meeting the vain and childlike Ion, a rhapsodist who is an expert on Homer. Socrates is being quite ironic when he says he is very envious of rhapsodists, who were the actors of ancient times. They would act out the epic poems which entailed they dress up in fine clothes and have a great ability to memorize huge amounts of lines. More than that though, “You have to understand his thought [the poet’s], and not merely learn his lines” (530c). Whether or not they can really do that remains to be seen. Ion claims to be the world’s foremost expert on Homer, so much so that he would be able to impress the Homeridae (descendants of Homer). Socrates asks what he thinks of other poets lik...

               The Lesser Hippias is a really strange dialogue. Every introduction I have read about it says that it is, by far, one of the most inferior of the authentic Platonic dialogues and I have to agree. That is mainly due to the style, even though the topic of the text also escapes my grasp, but that may have more to do with me than with Plato. Nevertheless, the conclusion reached and how he got there is exceedingly odd and done with far less subtlety than is usually present in Plato’s work. It also seems to be a fairly meaningless paradox, although maybe upon further reflection it might be shown to contain some purpose. It starts with the sophist Hippias declaring his arrogance with a gusto, that, like I mentioned, seems a bit too on the nose and more farcical than Plato is accustomed to using. He says he can answer any question anyone can possibly ask, and he has never found his superior in anything. And by anything, he means every...