VI. A Close Encounter with the Parallel Lives: Two Case Studies

At the outset of Plato's Timaeus, Socrates briefly recalls the discussion of the ideal state which he had the day before with his companions (Tim. 17c1–19b2). Looking back at it, he experiences what people often experience when they see beautiful creatures in repose: he wants to see them in motion (19b3–c2). This is precisely the goal of the present chapter. The previous one has provided a general overview of several essential themes and characteristics of the Parallel Lives. Now, it is time to see them ‘in motion’.

I. Plutarch's Life

The fifth and fourth century bc were truly the pinnacle of Greek history and culture. In those golden days, one could deliberate on political matters with Themistocles and Pericles; discuss our human condition with Socrates and Plato and the past with Herodotus and Thucydides; watch the superb plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides; visit the brand-new Acropolis at Athens or consult Apollo at Delphi; drop in at Polyclitus’ workshop or marvel at a skilfully decorated black-figure Panathenaic amphora. It was, however, also a period in which Greeks were still Greeks, whereas the rest were conveniently despised as barbarians. Greeks confidently bashed barbarian brains in (at Marathon, for instance, or Plataea) and were even proud of it. After all, they did it in a culturally justified way. With fellow Greeks, matters were somewhat different. Their brains were likewise crushed, to be sure, and even in such cases, the slaughter was usually not devoid of a certain feeling of ideological superiority, yet to refined Greek ears, the cracking of Greek skulls must have sounded differently from the smashing of the skull of an ordinary effeminate barbarian. Athenians, Spartans, and Thebans could often drink each other's blood (in a skilfully decorated cup), no doubt, but in the end, they all remained fellow Greeks.

II. Looking for the Truth: Plutarch as an Open-Minded Platonist

Plutarch saw himself primarily as a philosopher, standing in the long Academic tradition that could be followed back to the ‘divine’ Plato (De cap. ex inim. 90C; Per. 8.2). But when he took his first steps as a philosopher, Plato's works had been (re)read and interpreted for several centuries. As a result, Plutarch had to acquaint himself with a rich exegetical tradition that would shape the lens through which he read Plato and would turn his attention to specific dialogues. For some Platonic dialogues had during this time received a privileged position. In particular, the Timaeus was intensively studied, which led to heated discussions about the correct interpretation of specific passages. A detailed exegesis of this dialogue, complemented with material carefully selected from a few other dialogues, yielded a few Platonic ‘core doctrines’. Many Platonists, for instance, endorsed three fundamental principles, viz. God, matter, and the Forms (the so-called Dreiprinzipienlehre). These Forms were often regarded as the thoughts of God, and the final end of life (the τέλος) was nearly always defined as an assimilation to God (ὁμοίωσις θεῷ) – as far as possible (κατὰ τὸ δυνατόν) – on the basis of a celebrated passage from the Theaetetus (176b1). Such doctrines found their way into school handbooks (like Alcinous’ Didaskalikos or Apuleius’ De Platone), which provided the reader with a systematized Plato. Inconsistencies in Plato's works were explained away, obscure passages were clarified, and later insights (including Peripatetic and Stoic doctrines) were used to reconstruct a coherent Platonic philosophy.

VII. Reason as a Mystagogue: Plutarch's View of God

It is not only Alexander alone who has the right to be proud because he rules over many men, but no less right to be proud have they who have true notions concerning the gods. This quotation from a letter of Aristotle to Antipater (fr. 664 Rose) repeatedly occurs in the Plutarchan corpus. Plutarch clearly agreed. He regarded rational thinking about the gods as a human's most divine possession and as the most decisive influence on their happiness (De Is. et Os. 378C–D), and, as we have already seen, he adopted the Platonic phrase of ὁμοίωσις θεῷ (κατὰ τὸ δυνατόν) (‘assimilation to God [as far as possible]’) as the final end of life (see above, Chapter II, §1). In several ways, then, God is, as it were, the keystone that lends bearing power to the whole vault of Plutarch's philosophical thinking. A correct understanding of his thought therefore presupposes a deeper insight into his conception of God.

III. Learning in Abundance: The Ramifications of Plutarch's Erudition

The open-minded and penetrating search for the truth is the driving force of Plutarch's philosophy. Yet this search does not start from scratch: Plutarch knew very well that he was heir to an age-old tradition and it was never his ambition to re-invent the wheel. On the contrary, whether he was looking for the explanation of physical phenomena, discussing metaphysical questions, offering moral guidance, or dealing with history, he always tried to fall back on earlier insights. This, of course, does not imply that Plutarch was opposed to innovative answers (cf. Quaest. conv. 656D, where ‘Plutarch’ announces that he will ‘stir up something of his own’, ἴδιόν τι κινεῖν) but, for him, innovation should always be informed by a learned dialogue with the rich tradition. Sound philosophical zetesis, then, presupposes considerable erudition.

V. History as Matter for Philosophy: The Parallel Lives

Reading Plutarch's Parallel Lives is a fascinating encounter with the history of the ancient world. It includes witnessing the foundation of Athens (Thes. 24.1–3) and Rome (Rom. 11.1–12.1); participating in the battles of Salamis (Arist. 9.1–4; Them. 13.1–15.4), Pharsalus (Pomp. 69.1–72.6; Caes. 42.1–45.8), Philippi (Brut. 49.1–10), and Actium (Ant. 65.1–66.8); marvelling at Alexander sitting on Darius’ throne (Alex. 37.7); being dazzled by the wonderful buildings on the Acropolis (Per. 12.1–13.14); watching in dismay as Caesar is killed with twenty-three dagger blows (Caes. 66.1–14); sharing Pyrrhus’ desperation with one more victory (Pyrrh. 21.14); and standing aghast at the rape of the Sabines (Rom. 14.1–15.7), the tragic fate of Spartacus (Crass. 8.1–11.10), and Hannibal's triumph at Cannae (Fab. 16.1–9). It is a rendezvous with so many distinguished figures of Greek and Roman history: the protagonists and antagonists of the Lives, of course, but also the many less-known figures behind the scene, like Mnesiphilus, the teacher of Themistocles (Them. 2.6–7) or Damon, the brains behind the young Pericles (Per. 4.1–4). The decisive moments of history, such as Caesar's famous alea iacta est before his crossing of the Rubicon (Caes. 32.8; Pomp. 60.4), or his veni vidi vici at Zela (Caes. 50.3), are juxtaposed with ‘petite histoire’ with all its juicy anecdotes: Demetrius’ liaison with Lamia (Demetr. 27.1–14), Pericles’ relationship with Aspasia (Per. 24.2–12), Pompey's fondness for Flora (Pomp. 2.5–8), and, of course, Antony's notorious affair with Cleopatra (Ant. 36.1–7; 53.5–12; 71.4–86.9).