Phaedrus: Part 2– The Speech of Lysius and the First Speech of Socrates

It is noteworthy, first, to recognize that Socrates will not allow Phaedrus to recite the speech if he can hear the speech read instead. The spoken word for Socrates is closer to the Forms (since it is immaterial) than the immaterial. By copying it into words on a page it is “killing it” in a sense, or making it a copy. To have Phaedrus recite it from memory would be to copy the copy, bringing to mind Plato’s ontology as portrayed in the allegory of the cave.

Socrates, despite Phaedrus’ praises for Lysius’ speech, reacts to it with utmost sarcasm. Phaedrus calls for him to do a speech on the topic then, and to get Socrates to agree, he decides to swear by the tree they are near that he will never let Socrates see or hear another speech he comes in contact with. Oddly enough, the threat works on Socrates, despite his disbelief in the true reality of the tree, and the reader might wonder why he wouldn’t just find his speeches through some other source. Perhaps when his dear friend Phaedrus swears by the tree, which Socrates knows to be a useless oath (in his metaphysics), he decides he must try and enlighten his friend by giving him a speech that is closer to the truth. This theory is reinforced when Socrates begins his first speech by stating that most people do not realize their ignorance about the essential nature of something; in this case, he is setting himself up to define the notion of “love.”

People are characterized by two different types of aims: the rational, which is seen by those who desire excellence or beauty. The other aim is toward pleasure, which is irrational. Socrates interrupts himself to ask Phaedrus if he thinks he is inspired, and when Phaedrus answers in the affirmative, Socrates mentions that the nymphs might take possession of him soon… or perhaps that he may be gripped by irrational desire for lyrical pleasure in his speech. This clarification allows Socrates to argue that a “lover,” or someone enslaved by the desire for pleasure, will only use the object of his desire, which means it is better to have a friend than a lover.

Then, abruptly, Socrates stops. Phaedrus and the reader alike wonder at the unbalanced treatment, since Socrates did not explain the benefits of thwarting a lover. Socrates marvels at the love Phaedrus has for rhetoric, which will undoubtedly appear later in the work, and then is about to leave until he receives his “supernatural sign” that which makes him a gadfly in the lives of the people of Athens. This sign reminds Socrates that Love is a god, and that the two previous speeches were blasphemous. It seems rare to find Socrates in the wrong; usually he exposes the errors and indiscrepancies of others, yet here he is, apparently bewitched by Phaedrus (whom he perhaps loves), falling into a contradiction himself: claiming that lovers are bad while believing that Love is a god, and thus belonging to the immaterial world of the Forms.