The Hemlock Cup: Socrates, Athens, and the Search for the Good Life

by Bettany Hughes

  ALSO BY BETTANY HUGHES

  Helen of Troy: Goddess, Princess, Whore

  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK

  PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

  Copyright © 2010 by Bettany Hughes

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf,

  a division of Random House, Inc.

  www.aaknopf.com

  Originally published in Great Britain in 2010 by Jonathan Cape,

  an imprint of the Random House Group Limited, London.

  Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Hughes, Bettany.

  The hemlock cup : Socrates, Athens and the search for the good life /

  by Bettany Hughes.—1st U.S. ed.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-59529-4

  1. Socrates. 2. Philosophers—Greece—Athens—Biography. 3. Philosophers, Ancient—Biography. 4. Athens (Greece)—Biography. I. Title.

  B316.H84 2011

  183′.2—dc22

  [B] 2010045486

  Jacket image: Socrates, engraving by Thomas Trotter after a drawing

  by Peter Paul Rubens. Mary Evans Picture Library.

  Jacket design by Jason Booher

  v3.1

  For

  KE-SE-NE-WI-JA

  xenwia and xenia

  and therefore for my

  friends, at home and abroad.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  1 Acknowledgements

  2 Preface

  3 Introduction

  4 The dramatic story of Socrates – sources and approach

  5 Dramatis personæ

  6 List of Illustrations

  7 Maps

  ACT ONE – ATHENA’S CITY

  1 The water-clock: time to be judged

  2 Athena’s city

  3 Socrates in the Agora

  4 The Stoa of the King

  5 The first blood sacrifice

  6 Checks, balances and magic-men

  7 Persuade or obey

  8 Peitho, the power of persuasion

  ACT TWO – SOCRATES AS A YOUNG MAN

  9 Alopeke: a philosopher is born

  10 Kerameikos – potters and beautiful boys

  11 Pericles: high society, and democracy as high theatre

  12 Delos – and the birth of an empire

  13 Purple ambition

  14 Paddling in the river, sweating in the gym: Socratic youth

  15 Gym-hardened fighting men

  16 ‘Golden Age’ Athens

  17 Aspasia – Sophe Kai Politike, Wise and Politically Astute

  ACT THREE – SOCRATES THE SOLDIER

  18 Samos

  19 Flexing muscles

  20 Socrates the soldier

  21 Demons and virtues

  22 The plague

  ACT FOUR – NEW GODS, NEW POSSIBILITIES: SOCRATES IN MIDDLE AGE

  23 Silver Owls and a wise owl

  24 Hot air in the Agora

  25 Democracy, liberty and freedom of speech

  26 The good life – after dark

  27 Delphi, the Oracle

  28 Gnothi Seauton – Know Yourself

  29 Aristocrats, democrats and the realities of war

  ACT FIVE – THE FIGHT GOES ON

  30 The Peloponnesian War, phase two – a messy siege

  31 Brickbats and bouquets

  32 Amphipolis

  ACT SIX – SOCRATES AND LOVE

  33 Socrates in the symposium

  34 The trouble with love

  35 Oh, tell me the truth about love

  36 Diotima – a very social priestess

  37 Little Bears

  38 Xanthippe

  39 Alcibiades: violet-crowned, punch-drunk

  ACT SEVEN – CUTTING DOWN THE TALLEST CORN

  40 Melos

  41 Venus de Milo abused

  42 Priest of nonsense: playing with fire

  43 Sicily

  44 Rivers of blood

  45 Decelea – closing down the mines

  46 Time of terror

  47 Arginusae – standing out in the crowd

  48 Tall poppies, cut corn

  49 Thirty Tyrants

  ACT EIGHT – THE TRIAL AND DEATH OF SOCRATES

  50 The scapegoat

  51 An apology

  52 Twilight and Delos at dawn

  53 Socrates bound

  54 Flight from the world

  Coda: The tomb of Socrates – the Tower of the Winds

  Afterword

  Appendix One Honouring Aphrodite

  Appendix Two Mysteria – the Eleusinian Mysteries

  Timeline

  Text Acknowledgements

  Image Acknowlegements

  Notes

  Bibliography

  Illustrations

  Many wonders, many terrors, but none more wonderful or more terrible than a human being.

  Sophocles, Antigone, 332

  And what kind of person is more loved by the gods than the one who is most happy?

  Xenophon, describing Socrates in his Memorabilia, 4.8.3

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  I have referenced the works, both ancient and modern, upon which I have relied heavily or which might be of further interest to the reader. Although I would have loved Socrates to be Sokrates – and hence more Hellenic, I have in general chosen the more familiar, Latinised versions of the names of literary and historical figures and places.

  The translations are my own or a collaborative effort between myself and my colleagues unless otherwise stated.

  For help, humour, hospitality and the gift of nous my heartfelt thanks go to:

  Julian Alexander, Anna Antoniou, Professor Mary Beard, Professor Lisa Bendall, Professor Sue Blundell, Richard Bradley, Professor John Camp, Professor Paul Cartledge, Sophia and Alex Constantidis, Professor Michael Cosmopoulos, Professor James Davidson, Dr Angelos Delivorrias, Professor Matthew Dickie, Dr Matt Edge, Kathy Elgin, Lucy Felmingham, Spiro and Millie Flamburiari (thank you for introducing me to the delights of Corcyra), Wing Commander John Foden (who, age 83, led me through the mountains of the Peloponnese), Dr Annelise Freisenbruch, Professor Betsy Gebhard, Dr Dimitris Grigoropoulos, Dr Angie Hobbs, Dr Dan Hogg, Ben Jackson, John, Jenny, Jane and Julia (for the houses), Professor Robin Lane-Fox, Bill Locke, Jack Maclnnes, Peter Millett, John Morcom, Dr Alfonso Moreno, Professor Dirk Obbink, Justin Pollard, Jennifer Redfearn, Professor P. J. Rhodes, Laura Rizzotto, Sophia Roberts, Professor Charlotte Roueché, Dr Deborah Ruscillo, John Savage, Dr Michael Scott, Philip Sellars, Dr Victoria Solomonidis, Julietta Steinhauer, Dr Claire Stocks, Professor Barry Strauss, Professor Oliver Taplin, Lieutenant-Commander Alec Tilley, Dr Nicola Wardle, Olivia Williams. The staff of the Ashmolean and British Museums, the German Archaeological Institute, the Naples Museum and the Samos Epigraphical Museum, thank you for your patience. St. Hilda’s College – my alma mater – always there for me. Professor Dirk Obbink – the treasures from the sands of Egypt have been patiently and generously revealed. Robin – you fired me to do all of this, when we meet or talk or I read a word of your work I remember why every single one of your tutorials was wildly inspirational. Never a dull moment. Matti and Nicholas Egon have been, as ever, wonderful. The world owes you much. Professor John Camp, your guided tours were exceptionally helpful, and illuminating for both me and my g
irls. Peter and Anna, you’ve let me impose on your hospitality so many times now, and Athens will not be the same without you. Pete, our road trips have been amongst the happiest days of my life. Sorrel and May Evans – thank you very much for reading out those Plato quotes at times of need. Adrian, thank you for living with a backview at a computer for the last five years. Ma and Pa, you made it possible.

  Without the undinting support of all of the above this book simply would not have made it into print.

  Ellah Allfrey and Dan Franklin sympathetically honed the text and saved me from both extreme colloquialism and self-indulgence, Tom Avery – the man with the most beautiful writing in the world, was charm personified despite my increasingly wild demands. Neil – thank you for the extension, Will for your good judgement, and Clara for your vivacity and vision. Julian Alexander, my literary agent, has been my rock and has become one of my dear friends, you have made my life better – and whenever I think of you I smile. Dr Alfonso Moreno, Dr Angie Hobbs, Professor Oliver Taplin, Professor Michael Cosmopoulos, Professor James Davidson, Professor Elizabeth Gebhard, Professor Matthew Dickie, Peter Millett, Dr Matt Edge have all been kind enough to read all or part of this text and save me from error and mania. Paul Cartledge has proved himself, once again, to be both the superior friend and scholar. He has met last-minute requests to look over this text – I blush to think how many times – with grace and generosity. He is one of the reasons I love antiquity with such a passion.

  PREFACE

  Those who are already wise no longer love wisdom – whether they are gods or men.

  Similarly, those whose own ignorance has made them bad, rotten, evil, do not strive for wisdom either. For no evil or ignorant person ever strives for wisdom.

  What remains are those who suffer from ignorance, but still retain some sense and understanding. They are conscious of knowing what they don’t know.

  Socrates, in Plato’s Lysis, 218b, fourth century BC

  PUT TWO AUTHORS TOGETHER IN A room and someone is bound to leave mildly depressed. The only exception seems to be when one of the pair is Peter Cook. Meeting a fellow writer in a bar, so the anecdote goes, he was asked whether he was penning a book. ‘Yes, I’m not either …’ came the soothing reply.

  No such comfort for me. Sharing breakfast in an Edinburgh hotel with an award-winning novelist, just as I embarked on this book, the friendly chat came round to our next projects.

  ‘Socrates! What a doughnut subject!’ he exclaimed. ‘Gloriously rich, with a whacking hole in the middle where the central character should be …’ My smile fixed. Of course he is right: because as far as we know, Socrates wrote down not one word of philosophy. The idea of Socrates is immensely influential, and yet everything we know of him is hearsay. He is, historically, conspicuous by his absence. And thus for the past five years, as I’ve typed, I have had a spectral doughnut hovering over my shoulder.

  But painters will tell you that the truest way to represent a shape is to deal with the space around it. The primary-source, autobiographical, historical Socrates is a lacuna; my hope is that by looking at the shape around the Socrates-sized hole, at the city in which he lived – Athens in the fifth century BC – I can begin to write not quite a life of Socrates, but a vivid sketch of Socrates in his landscape; a topography of the man in his times.

  I have a warehouse full of unusual allies in this task – the earth-shifters, bulldozers, spades and trowels that have been picking over the Greek landscape in the last few years. The millennial year of 2000, the promise of a Greek Olympics in 2004, the new Acropolis Museum, a change in planning law – all these things have yielded huge amounts of material evidence from the fifth century BC. Socrates is an eidolon – the Greek word gives us idol, a ghost – who haunts a very real landscape. By exploring this physical landscape my hope is to flesh out this idol, and to imagine the life of one of the most provocative and provoking thinkers of all time.1

  INTRODUCTION

  The unexamined life is not a life worth living for a human being.

  Socrates, in Plato’s Apology, 38a1

  WE THINK THE WAY WE DO because Socrates thought the way he did. Socrates’ belief that, as individuals, we need to question the world around us stands at the heart of what it means to live in ‘modern times’. In the Socratic Dialogues, generated twenty-four centuries ago, we find the birth of ethos – ethics2 – and the identification of the psyche.3 ‘The First Martyr’ – the Greek martys means ‘witness’ – a witness to ‘truth, virtue, justice’ and ‘freedom of speech’, is commemorated as a bedrock of our civilisation.

  Socrates stands at the beginning of our world – when democracy and liberty are first conceived as fundamental values of society. We need to understand him because he did not just pursue the meaning of life, but the meaning of our own lives.4

  Socrates sees us coming. He worries that the pursuit of plenty will bring mindless materialism, that ‘democracy’ will become just a banner under which to fight. What is the point, he says, of warships and city walls and glittering statues if we are not happy? If we have lost sight of what is good? His is a question that is more pertinent now than ever. He asks: ‘What is the right way to live?’

  I am a stinging fly, sent to goad the city as though it were a huge, thoroughbred horse, which because of its size is rather sluggish and needs to be stirred.5

  When Socrates comes into focus, in Greece in the fifth century BC, he is no didact: he wanders through the streets of Athens, debating the essence of what it means to be human. For the young men (and women) of the city he is irresistible: his relentless questioning appears to tap man’s potential for self-knowledge. His ‘ethics’ programme centres on the search for the ‘good life’. His, it was whispered – then and through the next 2,400 years – is a voice of incomparable sophia: of knowledge, skill, wisdom and truth. The greater part of Socrates’ life was spent out in public, in Athens, philosophising unrestricted. But when the philosopher was seventy, Athens turned against him. In March 399 BC the ageing citizen was tried in a religious court and found guilty of both primary and secondary charges: ‘not duly acknowledging the city’s gods and inventing new ones’ and ‘corrupting the youth’. The death sentence was passed: four weeks or so later Socrates killed himself by drinking the hemlock poison left for him by his jailer in his Athenian cell.

  Socrates’ arguments were perhaps just too incendiary, too dangerously charismatic. He believed that man had the potential to enjoy perfect happiness. A clue to the contemporary impact of his ideas is given by his pupil Plato. In the Allegory of the Cave,6 with cool detail, Plato has Socrates describe a race of men who have been born in chains, and who, staring for ever at a cave wall, see only the shadows of creatures above them and believe these shadows to be reality. He then reveals the dismay and joy these captives feel when they are brought, blinking, into the light of the real world. The chained men represent those of humanity who have yet to hear or understand what Socrates has to say.

  However, when it comes to wholeheartedly embracing the new, mankind displays a poor record. In a superstitious city, Socrates’ spiritual and moral make-up was unconventional, troubling. He seems to have suffered from some form of epilepsy or ‘petit mal’ (hence his curious cataleptic seizures, when he stared into the distance for hours on end), which in a pious age was interpreted as a malign ‘inner voice’.7 His contemporary the playwright Aristophanes talks of the passionate men who go to hear him preach and turn their minds to fundamental issues rather than frivolities as having been ‘Socratified’. And in his comedy Clouds,8 Aristophanes jeers at Socrates’ high-minded eccentricities, has him clamber into a raised bath and scramble around in the clouds to ‘peer at the arse of the moon’. Democracies need pragmatists, yet Socrates refuses to contain himself, to temper the power of principle. So pheme – rumour, gossip – starts to fly through Athena’s city. As the robust philosopher is only too aware, a whispering campaign is the most pernicious and insidious of enemies.9

 
These people who have thrown scandal at me are genuinely dangerous. They’ve used envy and slander and they’re difficult to deal with. I cannot possibly bring them into court to cross-question them or refute their charges. I have to defend myself as if I were boxing with shadows.10

  Socratic thought and the living Socrates

  In all cities, it is easier to hurt a man than to help him.

  Plato, Meno, 94e

  In the Metropolitan Museum in New York hangs a painting of Socrates, just before death, by the great neoclassical painter Jacques-Louis David. Socrates – speaking slowly but determinedly, the hemlock about to run through his veins, a martyr to virtue and high principle – is surrounded by agitated disciples.11 Crouched around his bed are those men such as Plato who will carry his words into literature and thus on into the very DNA of world civilisation.12

  Now it is time for us to go away, for me to die and for you to live; but which of us is going to a better condition is not known to anyone except god.13

  This is not a book of philosophic theory. I am a historian, not a philosopher, and cannot possibly better the work of those who have gone before me, who have squeezed ever-evolving interpretations out of Socrates’ philosophical ideas; Plato, Aristotle, Diogenes the Cynic, Al-Kindi, Yehuda ha-Levi, Thomas Hobbes et al. – all these men have tussled with what Socrates’ philosophy means. That is a bulging canon and one I would not presume to augment. But I can turn my eyes to the stones under my feet. I can see how Socrates’ philosophy evolved in his time and his place.

  For the purposes of this book, the joy of Socratic thought is that Socrates did not believe in or deal with abstracts. For him, morality stemmed from and emerged to deal with real problems in a real world. The characters he employs as porters for his ideas are often cobblers, bakers, priestesses, whores. Socrates continually emphasises that he is flesh and blood, and that it is as a flesh-and-blood man that he lived and understood life. It is one of the reasons his philosophy is so accessible to all of us. So bringing the humble, the archaeological and the physical back into the Socratic experience is appropriate. The totemic ideas that Socrates delivered were, put simply, as much to do with the religious ritual he had just witnessed down at his local harbour, with the pleasure of walking barefoot through Athens, with the death of a loved one, or the horror of living through a wasting-war, as they were with any kind of purely intellectual concept. Socrates’ prime concern was with the world as lived. As this book weaves together the mongrel evidence for his life, where material remains are as valued as literary and documentary sources, a picture emerges of a world that is, for the first time, self-consciously trying to build a ‘civilisation’ that is based on a ‘democracy’.14