In Plato’s Phaedrus those that seek knowledge are compared to a lover or those in love. At first glance, comparing philosophers to lovers seems silly, as those in love are seldom in search of “Truth”. Nevertheless, Plato continues to state that some souls remember reality of the gods better than others. He orders groups of people and trades by the level the souls in that group remember divine reality. Plato depicts that we have all seen real beauty, that of the heavens, and when we are reminded of it, our souls past wings begin to grow back. Interestingly, at the top of the list is a lover. Further, he states those whom remember Reality the most will enter into a future seeking wisdom, knowledge or love/ be a lover. Through out Phaedrus, love is used as a metaphor in the search for knowledge and Truth, and lengthy depictions are given about the madness of love.
A word search of Lover on Persus yielded some fascinating results. While some of the definitions were to be expected, one who longs for or, filled with passion, one particular definition stood out. The Greek word, ἐρᾶν is listed in 115 documents, showing up 2,692 times. Two meanings are noted in Persus, the first being love, the second and more notable of the two, means to pour forth, and or vomit! With some thought this definition of love seems to make a bit of sense. Those in love often express feelings of being ‘love sick’, and ill. In an intimate relationship you are expected to pour forth feelings, and to some degree, lovers vomit out the deep secrets of their souls to each other.
Due to this definition, it is a bit perplexing why Plato would state that the search for knowledge is like vomiting. Perhaps, the quest for knowledge is like a lover, in that searching for Truth often produces small amounts of substance leaving the seeker frustrated and disappointed, much like frustration and unproductive nature of dry heaves. Furthermore it is often said that, the more one learns, the less he/she knows. Future rhetorical pedagogy might benefit from remembering this comparison of Plato. While some students think they have knowledge, teaching this definition and comparison could help remind seekers of knowledge that the quest for understanding is ongoing, yielding lots of dry heaves, and small amounts of real substance.
3 comments:
I couldn't help but think that the vomitting by the student is something that happens, and it's the teachers job to almost "fix" or "heal" them. I was thinking of the times that I might have word vomited the wrong answer in class, but the teacher became almost my academic doctor and corrected me.
It was interesting to see where the phrase love sick comes from! Another strange note, that love sickness can be both positive and negative. We often talk about loving so much it hurts, another way to look at love sickness.
I think this post and the wonders about vomit provides an interesting interlude to Kendall's post that talks about how pain must be present. If love whether metaphorical or in actual terms is a virtue then it seems there would be required pain in order to suceed and understand it. This might mean the fights that the couples have or the annoying yet "necessary" cat and mouse games of the pursuit or the courtship era of relationships.
I don't know maybe its just a thought.
I think there is a third option to love sick as an extreme or a necessity. Love and knowledge aren't always positive things. It seems to me to ring true that there would be definitions to understand love and wisdom at stages where the experience is unplesant. A discovery that we were wrong about someone or something. (I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then...) Or that we loved the wrong person - or that the person we loved doesn't love us back. So I see love sickness not as loving to an extreme, but loving at a disadvantage. At the end of something, love looks different and is often something we wish we could remove. But, Dylan says it best.
Love Sick - From Time out of Mind -
I'm walking through streets that are dead
Walking, walking with you in my head
My feet are so tired, my brain is so wired
And the clouds are weeping
Did I hear someone tell a lie?
Did I hear someone's distant cry?
I spoke like a child; you destroyed me with a smile
While I was sleeping
I'm sick of love but I'm in the thick of it
This kind of love I'm so sick of it
I see, I see lovers in the meadow
I see, I see silhouettes in the window
I watch them 'til they're gone and they leave me hanging on
To a shadow
I'm sick of love; I hear the clock tick
This kind of love; I'm love sick
Post a Comment