Philosophy in Dialogue : Plato's Many Devices

ANNE-MARIE BOWERY

The audience sees the necessity of reassessing knowledge and admit-
ting aporia. They are crucial components of the philosophic life. It is
important to note that though Socrates’ modes of thinking are more
apparent in these dialogues, it also becomes increasingly apparent that
Socrates does not follow a single philosophical method in any of these
dialogues. Indeed, as Gary Scott suggests, “The more one pays attention
to Socrates’ larger objectives with the characters he encounters, the less
uniform and generic his method appears to be in the various ‘case stud-
ies’ Plato has dramatized for posterity.”^50 Though Socrates’ actions may
be easier for the audience to understand and emulate when they have
access to his thoughts about his actions, it is not because Socrates’ ac-
tions are part of a single methodological approach. Rather, it is because,
as Brickhouse and Smith suggest, “Like the prisoners in Plato’s cave,
Socrates was and is only ‘like us’ (see Rep. VII. 515a) in what he could
bring to the task of overcoming ignorance.”^51

Socrates’ Emotional Responses

Throughout these dialogues, Socrates the narrator describes the emo-
tional responses of Socrates the character. Consider these examples
from the Protagoras. Socrates recalls that “we were all overjoyed at the
prospect of listening to wise men, and we laid hold of the benches and
couches ourselves and arranged them over by Hippias” (317e). Here
an emotional state, being overjoyed, hastens the beginning of a philo-
sophical exchange. Later Socrates recalls, “I was taken aback, and said
to him, ‘Do you consider the relationship between justice and piety re-
ally only one of some slight similarity?” (331e). Again, Socrates’ narra-
tive describes how an emotional state, being taken aback, furthers the
philosophical conversation. Socrates also describes the emotional effect
of Protagoras’ words in starkly physical terms: “Protagoras got a noisy
round of applause for this speech. At fi rst I felt as if I had been hit by a
good boxer. Everything went black and I was reeling from Protagoras’
oratory and the others’ clamor. Then, to tell you the truth, to stall for
time to consider what the poet meant, I turned to Prodicus and call[ed]
on him” (339e). Again, a nonrational state, “reeling from the oratory
and noise,” turns the philosophical conversation in a new direction.
Socrates calls on Prodicus to help him interpret Simonides’ poem. Simi-
larly, in the Lysis, Socrates recalls that “I was rejoicing, with all a hunter’s
delight, at just grasping the prey I had been so long in chase of, when
presently there came into my mind, from what quarter I cannot tell, the
strangest sort of suspicion. It was that the conclusions at which we had
arrived were not true” (218c). Here too an emotion, “rejoicing,” coupled