The Problem of Ancient Primary Sources

Having finished one philosophical discussion, Grim recently asked for suggestions for the next project. I suggested maybe a discussion of how to read these texts. How can someone today read and understand Plato, or Aristotle, or other ancient philosophical works?

Many years ago I took some courses in reading classical Chinese. The textbook gave us selections from primary sources like Confucius, Mencius, and Tang Dynasty poets, and also provided extensive glossaries, and we were expected to translate a selection before each class. In class, we would each read our translations, and then we would discuss where we had problems, or where noticeable differences between our translations had appeared.

At one point, I started feeling like I was getting it. Not like I was an expert, but the texts started making sense more naturally. I did what I thought was a good translation of a particular text and felt kinda proud of it, for a beginner.

When I read my translation to the class, the professor paused for a moment. "That's a very plausible translation," he said. "But I'm afraid it's wrong." And he proceeded to give the correct translation.

I understood where I had erred, but not why. Surely there must be some marker in the text that would have indicated the change he gave me, a marker I wasn't aware of. So I asked him, how could I know which way to translate this?

"Well," he replied, with a touch of reluctance, "you have to know the story before you begin."

So then much more recently we were discussing akratēs at the Hall, "the puzzle of someone who knows what is right but does the wrong thing anyway." In the comments, I was trying to work through a definition of virtue, and Grim made a suggestion. "You probably need to read Plato's Parminedes. Socrates was very young when that conversation is supposed to have happened; and it raises all these questions beyond the practical to the metaphysical."

The phrase "beyond the practical to the metaphysical" should have been put in flashing red lettering. In any case, I thought I was going to read more about virtue, but instead ... well, here. I'll put a selection from the beginning of it below the fold, with some discussion of difficulties I had reading it.

The story starts with a visit to friends and the recital of an old philosophical argument so they could discuss it. The recital is not given in the text, just the fact that it was recited, and then they begin discussing it.

[Socrates] said: What is your meaning, Zeno? Do you maintain that if being is many, it must be both like and unlike, and that this is impossible, for neither can the like be unlike, nor the unlike like-is that your position?

Right here, right where the philosophical discussion begins, I have no real idea of what they are talking about. What does "being is many" mean? What about just "being"? What does "it must be both like and unlike" mean? I'm lost immediately. But maybe I can work it out if I keep reading.

Just so, said Zeno.

And if the unlike cannot be like, or the like unlike, then according to you, being could not be many; for this would involve an impossibility. In all that you say have you any other purpose except to disprove the being of the many? ... 

No, said Zeno; you have correctly understood my general purpose.

... [There is a side discussion here that doesn't seem relevant to the argument itself.]

[Socrates continues:] But tell me, Zeno, do you not further think that there is an idea of likeness in itself, and another idea of unlikeness, which is the opposite of likeness, and that in these two, you and I and all other things to which we apply the term many, participate-things which participate in likeness become in that degree and manner like; and so far as they participate in unlikeness become in that degree unlike, or both like and unlike in the degree in which they participate in both? And may not all things partake of both opposites, and be both like and unlike, by reason of this participation?-Where is the wonder? Now if a person could prove the absolute like to become unlike, or the absolute unlike to become like, that, in my opinion, would indeed be a wonder; but there is nothing extraordinary, Zeno, in showing that the things which only partake of likeness and unlikeness experience both. Nor, again, if a person were to show that all is one by partaking of one, and at the same time many by partaking of many, would that be very astonishing. But if he were to show me that the absolute one was many, or the absolute many one, I should be truly amazed. And so of all the rest: I should be surprised to hear that the natures or ideas themselves had these opposite qualities; but not if a person wanted to prove of me that I was many and also one. When he wanted to show that I was many he would say that I have a right and a left side, and a front and a back, and an upper and a lower half, for I cannot deny that I partake of multitude; when, on the other hand, he wants to prove that I am one, he will say, that we who are here assembled are seven, and that I am one and partake of the one. In both instances he proves his case. So again, if a person shows that such things as wood, stones, and the like, being many are also one, we admit that he shows the coexistence the one and many, but he does not show that the many are one or the one many; he is uttering not a paradox but a truism. If however, as I just now suggested, some one were to abstract simple notions of like, unlike, one, many, rest, motion, and similar ideas, and then to show that these admit of admixture and separation in themselves, I should be very much astonished. This part of the argument appears to be treated by you, Zeno, in a very spirited manner; but, as I was saying, I should be far more amazed if any one found in the ideas themselves which are apprehended by reason, the same puzzle and entanglement which you have shown to exist in visible objects.

I still don't clearly understand "one" or "many" here, but Socrates seems to be making sense. I am beginning to think I don't understand the term "idea," though. 

While Socrates was speaking, Pythodorus thought that Parmenides and Zeno were not altogether pleased at the successive steps of the argument; but still they gave the closest attention and often looked at one another, and smiled as if in admiration of him. When he had finished, Parmenides expressed their feelings in the following words:-

Socrates, he said, I admire the bent of your mind towards philosophy; tell me now, was this your own distinction between ideas in themselves and the things which partake of them? and do you think that there is an idea of likeness apart from the likeness which we possess, and of the one and many, and of the other things which Zeno mentioned?

I think that there are such ideas, said Socrates.

Parmenides proceeded: And would you also make absolute ideas of the just and the beautiful and the good, and of all that class?

Yes, he said, I should.

And would you make an idea of man apart from us and from all other human creatures, or of fire and water?

I am often undecided, Parmenides, as to whether I ought to include them or not.

And would you feel equally undecided, Socrates, about things of which the mention may provoke a smile?-I mean such things as hair, mud, dirt, or anything else which is vile and paltry; would you suppose that each of these has an idea distinct from the actual objects with which we come into contact, or not?

Certainly not, said Socrates; visible things like these are such as they appear to us, and I am afraid that there would be an absurdity in assuming any idea of them, although I sometimes get disturbed, and begin to think that there is nothing without an idea; but then again, when I have taken up this position, I run away, because I am afraid that I may fall into a bottomless pit of nonsense, and perish; and so I return to the ideas of which I was just now speaking, and occupy myself with them.

I followed all that, though I'm still not quite sure what we're talking about with "being / being is one / being is many", but now I'm pretty sure I do not understand the word "idea". Why would Socrates assume an idea of man separate from men exists, but not of hair? One is worthy and the other silly, but this doesn't seem logical. But Parmenides brings this out in the next paragraph: 

Yes, Socrates, said Parmenides; that is because you are still young; the time will come, if I am not mistaken, when philosophy will have a firmer grasp of you, and then you will not despise even the meanest things; at your age, you are too much disposed to regard opinions of men. But I should like to know whether you mean that there are certain ideas of which all other things partake, and from which they derive their names; that similars, for example, become similar, because they partake of similarity; and great things become great, because they partake of greatness; and that just and beautiful things become just and beautiful, because they partake of justice and beauty?

Yes, certainly, said Socrates that is my meaning.

Then each individual partakes either of the whole of the idea or else of a part of the idea? Can there be any other mode of participation?

There cannot be, he said.

Then do you think that the whole idea is one, and yet, being one, is in each one of the many?

Why not, Parmenides? said Socrates.

Because one and the same thing will exist as a whole at the same time in many separate individuals, and will therefore be in a state of separation from itself.

No idea what this means. The idea that great things participate in the idea of greatness doesn't divide the idea of greatness -- unless I don't understand the term "idea", again. Or, maybe I don't understand "participate." I thought it was similar to "have," but now that I think of it, "participate" is an active verb, so maybe I don't understand either "participate" or "idea," and "being / being is many / being is one" are all still unsettled terms as well. They seem to be increasing rather than decreasing as I read.

So let's step back for a moment and develop my thoughts on the problem with reading these ancient sources, I begin not knowing what terms mean, and those in the textual discussion disagree about what terms mean, to some extent, and so there isn't a consistent framework to infer meaning from. 

What I have to do mentally is build at least two different frameworks of meaning for the text itself, one for Socrates and one for Parmenides, and that still doesn't explain how I should understand the terms of discussion. The result is two frameworks from the text that are in conflict, and a third framework from which I am working which is unsettled -- the terms aren't clear, so I am forced to maintain a set of undefined (or very loosely defined) placeholder terms, and there is no promise that those terms will ever be defined. It's exhausting. 

What is the solution? 

One solution is heavily annotated versions of the texts. I started reading Aristotle's "Nicomachean Ethics" in a book with extensive notes on the original text. There were discussions of the meanings of specific key terms as well as historical notes where appropriate. That made the text accessible; I felt like I could easily follow the discussion.

But that's hard on a blog. Before we take up a text, should we all buy an agreed-upon annotated version? That would probably limit the appeal of the exercise, having to purchase the text.

Of course, a possible problem is that I expect to quickly understand. Maybe taking some time on my own to look things up, consider the possibilities, sketch a few notes of my own on the topic, and engage with the text beyond just reading it would help. That takes time; I can't immediately engage with the discussion on the blog that way. But maybe it's the best solution.

Or maybe I could look it up and read a summary first. That might not help a great deal if we go part by part through the text; I'll never know of which part I've read a summary, but knowing the overall thrust of it could guide my reading.

I know several (most?) of us have dealt with historical primary documents, so I'll leave the discussion there and look forward to what you might have to say.