The Ion

A very short dialogue, the Ion by Plato has Socrates discussing artistic interpretation with a rhapsode, whose job was to perform Homer to the delight of audiences and the award of prizes. The argument is straightforward; you can read it in just a few minutes if you wish, and you won't have trouble following the argument without much commentary (but here is some anyway, if you like).

It is an early salvo in Plato's war against poets and similar figures (Ion is not quite a poet, just a reciter of poetry who can also expound his thoughts on its meaning). This war is carried on at much greater length in the Republic and Laws. There, however, Plato is especially concerned with poets who assign to the divine beings immoral acts and motivations; here, Plato has Socrates question whether Ion is really capable of understanding well enough to do any of the things he claims to do. We might analogize to our own culture's desire to imbue pop culture icons with moral clarity as well as whatever physical beauty or talent they may have; why else care what actors or singers endorse politically?

Socrates here does something that the later dialogues avoid, which is to endorse (perhaps ironically) the idea that the rhapsode is in fact inspired by the divine directly. He makes an analogy of his own, to a magnet:

The gift which you possess of speaking excellently about Homer is not an art, but, as I was just saying, an inspiration; there is a divinity moving you, like that contained in the stone which Euripides calls a magnet, but which is commonly known as the stone of Heraclea. This stone not only attracts iron rings, but also imparts to them a similar power of attracting other rings; and sometimes you may see a number of pieces of iron and rings suspended from one another so as to form quite a long chain: and all of them derive their power of suspension from the original stone.... For the poet is a light and winged and holy thing, and there is no invention in him until he has been inspired and is out of his senses, and the mind is no longer in him: when he has not attained to this state, he is powerless and is unable to utter his oracles.

Many are the noble words in which poets speak concerning the actions of men; but like yourself when speaking about Homer, they do not speak of them by any rules of art... and he who is good at one is not good any other kind of verse: for not by art does the poet sing, but by power divine. 

Now if that is true then the poets who are inspired to ascribe to the divine beings various immoral acts or impulses do know what they're talking about because they are directly informed by the divine. That would greatly complicate the later Plato's arguments against poets who write such things; it is the philosopher that has the problem, because the poet is channeling divine energy and inspiration into their work.

The commentary I linked warns of the danger of hubris to the poet or rhapsode in making the claim, and suggests that they are required then to engage philosophy on its own terms in order to justify their positions. Yet the philosopher has no divine inspiration to compare with this; logic and analysis, like mathematics, model the world as well as the human mind can do it, but the poet has direct inspiration from beyond the veil. Or so they claim, and so Socrates here appears (ironically?) to grant. 

It seems reasonable to say that Ion doesn't really have that kind of direct connection to the divine, no more than our own celebrities; but what about Homer or Shakespeare? Or, as you might prefer, what about the Biblical poets and prophets? Inspired perhaps by the divine, they have composed works of art that have moved the hearts and minds of generations of humanity, though translated into many different languages and taught to people who have very different cultural assumptions and practices. Many today still strive to structure their lives according to the words of such poets and prophets; and very few are inclined to reject them in favor of philosophy, but rather tend to try to find a way to accommodate their philosophy to their faith in such poets and prophets. 

As usual, and following Plato's example, I leave the matter open. What I first and always liked about Plato was the invitation he offered to all of us to try to understand and participate in these ancient discussions.