Raphael Woolf has written a challenging and rewarding monograph about Plato’s Charmides. The book will best suit scholars and advanced graduate students of ancient philosophy.[1] (Although Woolf discusses several details of language and translation, he never assumes knowledge of Greek.) Woolf is a patient and insightful reader who devotes attention to the historical, dramatic, and philosophical aspects of the text. Above all else, Woolf interprets Charmides as a unified and valuable philosophical work. I don’t recommend reading selectively or by topic; in order to best understand and evaluate Woolf’s interpretation, readers should work through the entire book.
In the first chapter, Woolf introduces both his methodology and some key conclusions. Woolf employs two principles to guide his interpretation of Charmides: the principle of agnosticism and the principle of separation. The principle of agnosticism asks readers not to make assumptions about Charmides based on their views of other texts by Plato or about Socrates. Woolf acknowledges that he has read Plato’s other works and that he has views about Plato and Socrates, but he strives to interpret Charmides almost entirely on its own terms. The principle of separation asks readers not to assume that they know who speaks for Plato nor that Plato endorses or identifies with any particular speaker or viewpoint in the text. On a formal level, Woolf distinguishes between the horizontal and the vertical structure of Charmides. The vertical structure has three levels: at the top level, Plato writes a text; at the next level, Socrates (a character in Plato’s text) tells an unnamed (and unspeaking) listener about a series of meetings and conversations; at the lowest level, a group of people meet in a palaestra and talk—particularly about σωφροσύνη.[2] Woolf uses the gap between the horizontal and vertical structure of Charmides to motivate and introduce two main contentions: Socrates and Plato use different methods of communication in pursuit of different goals. Socrates uses conversation in pursuit of an erotic goal. As Woolf puts it, Socrates wishes “to discover (or instil) beauty” (17). Plato, however, uses writing in an effort “to instil in his readers…the stance of enquiry” (18).
In the second chapter, Woolf explores the stance of enquiry and sets forth some advantages of his distinction between the horizontal and vertical structures of Charmides. Initially, Woolf focuses on two claims to explain what he means by stance of enquiry and to show how Plato encourages such a stance. First, Woolf argues that by making use of first-person narration in this text, Plato encourages readers to see the text as perspectival and to question the perspective that the narrative presents. Second, Woolf notes that Socrates, Plato’s narrator and protagonist, has a “peculiar character” and values that are “out of the ordinary” (33, 38). According to Woolf, Plato uses formal features of the narrative and the strangeness of Socrates to inspire active, critical engagement with his text. Woolf organizes the rest of the chapter around contrasting pairs (testimony and self-knowledge, abstract and concrete, nature and nurture, fiction and history). In each case, Woolf argues that Plato provokes readers to take up the stance of enquiry by getting readers first to notice and then to question these polar and polarizing contrasts. Woolf acknowledges that Plato does not explicitly argue that we should become critical enquirers nor does any character within Charmides explicitly state—much less argue for—the value of the stance of enquiry (43). Instead, Woolf thinks that Plato proceeds by “show[ing] rather than tell[ing]” (46). The contrasting pairs are also implicit. Woolf argues for their importance, but he does not claim that Socrates or anyone else explicitly discusses, say, nature versus nurture in Charmides.
In Chapters Three through Five, Woolf analyzes Charmides from start to finish. The analysis that he offers runs along two tracks. (This is my language rather than his.) On the first track, Woolf analyzes what he calls the “horizontal structure” of the text. That is, he considers the explicit events and conversations that Socrates narrates to an unnamed, silent companion. On the second track, Woolf analyzes what he calls the “vertical structure” of the text. Here he explores what Plato communicates to readers. The first track is largely explicit, but the second track is entirely implicit.[3] For clarity of exposition, I will summarize each track separately.
In Woolf’s view, ἔρως (desire) inspires and unifies the narrative that Socrates recounts. Socrates impersonates a doctor and starts a conversation with Charmides about σωφροσύνη because he wants access to the beauty of Charmides’s soul. Socrates instructs Charmides to discuss σωφροσύνη in terms of what he finds present in himself because he wants Charmides to reveal his beautiful soul. Socrates offers an utterly uncharitable and weak argument in response to Charmides’s first definition of σωφροσύνη because Charmides offers proverbial wisdom, disobeys Socrates’s instructions, and does not reveal his soul. Socrates doesn’t think much of Charmides’s second definition, but nevertheless he praises Charmides for it because Charmides follows Socrates’s instructions and reveals something about himself when he says that σωφροσύνη is shame. After a perfunctory and uncharitable conversation about Charmides’s third definition, Socrates brusquely dumps Charmides in favor of Critias because, for a second time, Charmides disobeys Socrates’s instructions and does not offer a definition based on self-reflection. Even when Socrates speaks with Critias, he still pursues the beautiful Charmides. First, he entices Charmides to return to the conversation by a display of “intellectual fireworks” (95). Second, Socrates shames and humbles the recalcitrant Charmides—treatment that Woolf explicitly compares to “negging,” a manipulative technique recommended by contemporary (self-named) pickup artists (137). Finally, even after Socrates and Critias fail to discover what σωφροσύνη is, Charmides asks Socrates for more conversation because Socrates has successfully impressed and humiliated Charmides.
The second track is not a narrative. Here Woolf explores several contrasts between Socrates and Plato, as well as implicit philosophical views that the text suggests. In a summary near the end of the book, titled “Plato versus Socrates,” Woolf describes what I take to be the central contrast between how Socrates treats Charmides and how Plato treats readers (252). In this contrast, and to use my own language, Socrates is coercive, manipulative, and domineering towards Charmides. Plato, on the other hand, treats his readers as intellectual equals; he does not talk down to readers, manipulate them, nor dictate terms to them. Woolf also contrasts Socratic and Platonic methods: Socrates prefers conversation to writing and belittles interpretation, but Plato employs writing and expects thoughtful interpretation from his readers. Finally, in terms of implicit views, Woolf argues at length that despite the narrative aporia over the definition of σωφροσύνη, Plato urges readers to consider whether σωφροσύνη is an “art of self-realization.” Woolf means this literally, though understanding that literal meaning requires us to understand some key terms in novel ways. On this account, we only come to know what we believe through a process of enquiry. In addition, Plato equates the self with the soul and the soul with our structured beliefs. With these claims in place, Woolf concludes that Plato wishes us to see σωφροσύνη as a form of focus or attention that makes us who we are. By enquiring, we come to have the beliefs that make us ourselves.
In closing, I want to explore my strongest reservation. I worry that Woolf’s principles of interpretation may obscure more than they reveal. The principles of agnosticism and separation lead Woolf to read Charmides largely in isolation not just from Plato, but also from Xenophon, Aristotle, and other ancient sources. Woolf asks readers not to assume that they know what Socrates is like nor whether the author Plato endorses his character Socrates. But readers can consistently agree to this while rejecting a further suggestion to interpret each piece of evidence alone. In practice, I found myself repeatedly thinking that Woolf’s principles led him astray. I will briefly examine a few examples.
First, Woolf argues that we should not assume that the opening scene of Charmides depicts Socrates as admirably self-possessed or σώφρων. He suggests more than once that Socrates displays an odd, and potentially “cold and unfeeling,” lack of concern for the terrible battle he just survived and “the deaths of his comrades” (36). But what values does Woolf assume when he says this or that Socrates displays “startling…nonchalance” when he talks about his recent military experience (34)? I suspect the answer is, roughly, a common-sense approach to war and death. But readers of Plato’s Apology, Crito, and Phaedo would not expect Socrates to hold common-sense attitudes towards death. And readers of Plato’s Republic can remember that Socrates demands emotional restraint, even in the face of what common-sense views as terrible misfortunes (386d-e).
My second example concerns how Woolf interprets the unnamed and unspeaking “noble” companion to whom Socrates narrates his day at the palaestra (155d3). Woolf writes that “the silence of the anonymous companion is…deafening” (41), and he suggests that Plato uses this silence, in part, to goad readers into a more active, critical enquiry. However, I would argue that the companion’s silence is the norm when Plato uses Socrates as his primary narrator. In Lysis and Republic, Socrates similarly narrates the dialogue to an unnamed and unspeaking listener. Likewise, just as in Charmides, both of those texts end without any explicit return to the frame of narration. Similarly, in Protagoras an unnamed friend meets Socrates who then narrates his adventures with Hippocrates at the house of Callias. Although Socrates and the friend talk briefly at the start of the text, the friend never interrupts Socrates to ask clarifying questions as Woolf says we should expect in Charmides. Euthydemus provides the only exception to this pattern. There Socrates narrates his debate with two sophists to Crito, a well-known companion of Socrates. Only in that text does the listener ask Socrates questions or interrupt him as he narrates. With these comparisons in mind, readers may not be surprised that the companion in Charmides never speaks.
As a last example, consider how Woolf interprets Socrates’s motivation in Charmides. Woolf argues that Socrates is on “an erotic quest,” and that he cares about truth and the definition of σωφροσύνη at best instrumentally—and occasionally not at all (e.g., 18, 254). Nearly all the Socratic texts of Plato and Xenophon insist that Socrates cares enormously about truth, knowledge, and the virtues, but I give one concrete counter-example. At the start of Protagoras, Socrates says that he completely lost interest in Alcibiades because he found someone else, namely Protagoras, far more beautiful (309b-d). However, Socrates quickly clarifies: he found Protagoras so stunning because “what is most wise appears particularly beautiful” (309c11-12). Readers who recall this passage may find it hard to accept that Socrates cares so little for truth and knowledge of the virtues in Charmides.
To be clear, these examples cannot refute Woolf. First, he can obviously reply that I have violated his principles. Second, he may interpret any or all of my examples differently than I have. Nevertheless, Woolf himself acknowledges that hermeneutic circles can be virtuous (5). He also emphasizes that many of the characters in Plato are fictionalized not fictional, and he takes this to mean that we should evaluate them in the light of “at least some basic features of their historical counterparts’ lives” (10). Woolf applies this insight primarily to characters other than Socrates. But if readers treat Socrates as Woolf treats Critias and Charmides, they may look to other texts by Plato, Xenophon, and Aristotle for evidence concerning the basic features of Socrates.[4] My contention is that readers will understand Socrates better if they interpret individual Platonic texts with explicit attention to other evidence. That said, even readers who ultimately reject Woolf’s approach should thank him for raising such important questions and for exploring the complexity and richness of Plato’s Charmides.
Notes
[1] For undergraduates or readers who want more background and discussion of other interpretations of Charmides, I recommend Voula Tsouna’s Plato’s Charmides: An Interpretative Commentary (Cambridge 2022).
[2] The word σωφροσύνη defies consensus or simple translation, so I leave it untranslated throughout the review. Etymology suggests something like “safe-minded” or “sound-minded.” In Plato’s time, the word appears to have involved prudence and clear thinking but also self-control, temperance, moderation, and restraint—especially from desires for food, drink, and sex.
[3] In a fascinating digression, Woolf anticipates and attempts to defuse critics who object to his interpretative method. After Woolf acknowledges that there is no explicit evidence for his definition of σωφροσύνη, he writes “I [do not] intend…to represent some ‘hidden’ meaning beneath the (mostly) aporetic surface. There is, if my general interpretative approach is correct, nothing ‘beneath’ the conversations and events that the work depicts; its surface is its substance” (225).
[4] Woolf mentions neither Xenophon nor Aristotle in this context. He discusses only the choice between reading Platonic texts in isolation or in combination with other Platonic texts.