GREEK
_Plato_
Plato (c. 429–347 B.C.), the Greek philosopher who developed his
metaphysical and cosmological theories through a series of some
twenty-five dialogues and the _Apology_, has a great deal to say on the
erotic theme.
In the _Timaeus_, he says of sexual excess:
He who has the seed about the spinal marrow too plentiful and
overflowing, like a tree overladen with fruit, has many throes,
and also obtains many pleasures in his desires and their
offspring, and is for the most part of his life deranged because
his pleasures and pains are so very great; his soul is rendered
foolish and disordered by his body; yet he is regarded not as
one diseased, but as one who is voluntarily bad, which is a
mistake. The truth is that sexual intemperance is a disease of
the soul due chiefly to the moisture and fluidity which is
produced in one of the elements by the loose consistency of the
bones. And in general, all that which is termed the incontinence
of pleasure and is deemed a reproach under the idea that the
wicked voluntarily do wrong is not justly a matter for reproach.
For no man is voluntarily bad, but the bad become bad by reason
of an ill disposition of the body and bad education—things which
are hateful to every man and happen to him against his will.
Again, of sexual love, Plato says, in the _Timaeus_:
On the subject of animals, then, the following remarks may be
offered. Of the men who came into the world, those who were
cowards or led unrighteous lives may with reason be supposed to
have changed into the nature of women in the second generation.
And this was the reason why at that time the gods created in us
the desire of sexual intercourse, contriving in man one animated
substance, and in woman another, which they formed,
respectively, in the following manner. The outlet for drink by
which liquids pass through the lung under the kidneys and into
the bladder, which receives and then by the pressure of the air
emits them, was so fashioned by them as to penetrate also into
the body of the marrow, which passes from the head along the
neck and through the back, and which in the preceding discourse
we have named the seed. And the seed, having life and becoming
endowed with respiration, produces in that part in which it
respires a lively desire of emission, and thus creates in us the
love of procreation. Wherefore also in men the organ of
generation becoming rebellious and masterful, like an animal
disobedient to reason, and maddened with the sting of lust,
seeks to gain absolute sway, and the same is the case with the
so-called womb or matrix of women. The animal within them is
desirous of procreating children, and when remaining unfruitful
long beyond its proper time, gets discontented and angry, and
wandering in every direction through the body, closes up the
passages of the breath, and, by obstructing respiration, drives
them to extremity, causing all varieties of disease, until at
length the desire and love of the man and the woman, bringing
them together and as it were plucking the fruit from the tree,
sow in the womb, as in a field, animals unseen by reason of
their smallness and without form; these again are separated and
matured within; they are then finally brought out into the
light, and thus the generation of animals is completed.
In the _Symposium_, Plato postulates a philosophy of love:
Love is the love of beauty and not of deformity?
He assented.
And the admission has been already made that love is of that
which a man wants and has not?
True, he said.
Then love wants and has not beauty?
Certainly, he replied.
And would you call that beautiful which wants and does not possess
beauty?
Certainly not.
Then would you still say that love is beautiful?
Agathon replied: I fear that I did not understand what I was saying.
Nay, Agathon, replied Socrates; but I should like to
ask you one more question:—is not the good also the
beautiful?
Yes.
Then in wanting the beautiful love wants also the
good? I can not refute you, Socrates, said Agathon.
And let us suppose that what you say is true.
Say rather, dear Agathon, that you can not refute the
truth; for Socrates is easily refuted.
* * * * *
And now I will take my leave of you, and rehearse the tale of
love which I heard once upon a time from Diotima of Mantineia,
who was a wise woman in this and many other branches of
knowledge. She was the same who deferred the plague of Athens
ten years by a sacrifice, and was my instructress in the art of
love. In the attempt which I am about to make I shall pursue
Agathon’s method, and begin with his admissions, which are
nearly if not quite the same which I made to the wise woman when
she questioned me: this will be the easiest way, and I shall
take both parts myself as well as I can. For, like Agathon, she
spoke first of the being and nature of love, and then of his
works. And I said to her in nearly the same words which he
“As in the former instance, he is neither mortal fair; and she
proved to me as I proved to him that, in my way of speaking
about him, love was neither fair nor good. “What do you mean,
Diotima,” I said, “is love then evil and foul?”
“Hush,” she cried; “is that to be deemed foul which is not
fair?”
“Certainly,” I said.
“And is that which is not wise, ignorant? do you not see that
there is a mean between wisdom and ignorance?”
“And what is this?” I said.
“Right opinion,” she replied; “which, as you know, being
incapable of giving a reason, is not knowledge (for how could
knowledge be devoid of reason? nor again, ignorance, for neither
can ignorance attain the truth), but is clearly something which
is a mean between ignorance and wisdom.”
“Quite true,” I replied.
“Do not then insist,” she said, “that what is not fair is of
necessity foul, or what is not good evil; or infer that because
love is not fair and good he is therefore foul and evil; for he
is in a mean between them.”
“Well,” I said, “love is surely admitted by all to be a great
god.”
“By those who know or by those who don’t know?”
“By all.”
“And how, Socrates,” she said with a smile, “can love be
acknowledged to be a great god by those who say that he is not a
god at all?”
“And who are they?” I said.
“You and I are two of them,” she replied.
“How can that be?” I said.
“That is very intelligible,” she replied; “as you yourself would
acknowledge that the gods are happy and fair—of course you
would—would you dare to say that any god was not?”
“Certainly not,” I replied.
“And you mean by the happy, those who are the possessors of
things good and fair?”
“Yes.”
“And you admitted that love, because he was in want, desires
those good and fair things of which he is in want?”
“Yes, I admitted that.”
“But how can he be a god who has no share in the good or the
fair?”
“That is not to be supposed.”
“Then you see that you also deny the deity of love.”
“What then is love?” I asked; “Is he mortal?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“As in the former instance, he is neither mortal nor immortal,
but in a mean between them.”
“What is he then, Diotima?”
“He is a great spirit, and like all that is spiritual he is
intermediate between the divine and the mortal.”
“And what is the nature of this spiritual power?” I said.
“This is the power,” she said, “which interprets and conveys to
the gods the prayers and sacrifices of men, and to men the
commands and rewards of the gods; and this power spans the chasm
which divides them, and in this all is bound together, and
through this the arts of the prophet and the priest, their
sacrifices and mysteries and charms, and all prophecy and
incantation, find their way. For God mingles not with man; and
through this power all the intercourse and speech of God with
man, whether awake or asleep, is carried on. The wisdom which
understands this is spiritual; all other wisdom, such as that of
arts or handicrafts, is mean and vulgar. Now these spirits or
intermediate powers are many and divine, and one of them is
love.”
“And who,” I said, “was his father and who his mother?”
“The tale,” she said, “will take time; nevertheless I will tell
you. On the birthday of Aphrodite there was a feast of the gods,
at which the god Poros or Plenty, who is the son of Metis or
Discretion, was one of the guests. When the feast was over,
Penia or Poverty, as the manner was, came about the doors to
beg. Now Plenty, who was the worse for nectar (there was no wine
in those days), came into the garden of Zeus and fell into a
heavy sleep; and Poverty considering her own straitened
circumstances, plotted to have him for a husband, and
accordingly she lay down at his side and conceived love, who
partly because he is naturally a lover of the beautiful, and
because Aphrodite is herself beautiful, and also because he was
born on Aphrodite’s birthday is her follower and attendant.”
(B. Jowett)
In Book 8 of _The Laws_, too, Plato discusses a variety of subjects,
among them festivals and contests in which men and women meet together.
This topic introduces the question of the sexes, and Plato makes
definitive statements in this respect. Licentiousness, he declares, is
abominable. Men ought to live under controlled moderation. That is what
nature herself enjoins. Man otherwise would fall below the level of
beasts. Here the laws should be restrictive. But if that is not
possible, there must at least be some adherence to decent mores.
* * * * *
Lust and desire are discussed in Book 6 of _The Laws_ and in the
_Greater Hippias_. The three universal appetites are food, drink, and
lust of procreation, which is linked with the imperious sexual frenzy
and its concomitant excitements. Sexual desire, the necessities of love,
overflowing into excesses, may be harmful to the welfare of the state.
Excesses must therefore be stemmed and controlled by laws. In this
manner evil may be diminished and the good of the state as a whole will
be promoted.
With regard to exhausted capacity and the loss of passion as a corollary
to old age, Plato says, in Book I of _The Republic_:
I will tell you, Socrates, he said, what my own feeling is. Men
of my age flock together; we are birds of a feather, as the old
proverb says; and at our meetings the tale of my acquaintance
commonly is—I can not eat, I can not drink; the pleasures of
youth and love are fled away; there was a good time once, but
now that is gone, and life is no longer life. Some complain of
the slights which are put upon them by relations, and they will
tell you sadly of how many evils their old age is the cause. But
to me, Socrates, these complainers seem to blame that which is
not really at fault. For if old age were the cause, I too being
old, and every other old man, would have felt as they do. But
this is not my own experience, nor that of others whom I have
known. How well I remember the aged poet Sophocles, when in
answer to the question, How does love suit with age,
Sophocles,—are you still the man you were? Peace, he replied;
most gladly have I escaped from a mad and furious master. His
words have often occurred to my mind since, and they seem as
good to me now as at the time when he uttered them. For
certainly old age has a great sense of calm and freedom; when
the passions relax their hold, then, as Sophocles says, we are
freed from the grasp not of one mad master only, but of many.
The truth is, Socrates, that these regrets, and also the
complaints about relations, are to be attributed to the same
cause, which is not old age, but men’s characters and tempers;
for he who is of a calm and happy nature will hardly feel the
pressure of age, but to him who is of an opposite disposition
youth and age are equally a burden.
Of sexual appetite Plato declares, in Book 8 of _The Republic_:
Are not necessary pleasures those of which we can not get rid,
and of which the satisfaction is a benefit to us? And they are
rightly called so, because we are framed by nature to desire
both what is beneficial and what is necessary, and can not help
it.
True.
We are not wrong therefore in calling them necessary?
We are not.
And the desires of which a man may get rid, if he takes pains
from his youth upwards—of which the presence, moreover, does no
good, and in some cases the reverse of good—shall we not be
right in saying that all these are unnecessary?
Yes, certainly.
Suppose we select an example of either kind, in order that we
may have a general notion of them?
Very good.
Will not the desire of eating, that is, of simple food and
condiments, in so far as they are required for health and
strength, be of the necessary class?
That is what I should suppose.
The pleasure of eating is necessary in two ways; it does us good
and it is essential to the continuance of life?
Yes.
But the condiments are only necessary in so far as they are good
for health?
Certainly.
And the desire which goes beyond this, of more delicate food, or
other luxuries, which might generally be got rid of, if
controlled and trained in youth, and is hurtful to the body, and
hurtful to the soul in the pursuit of wisdom and virtue, may be
rightly called unnecessary?
Very true.
May we not say that these desires spend, and that the others
make money because they conduce to production?
Certainly.
And of the pleasures of love, and all other pleasures, the same
holds good?
True.
And the drone of whom we spoke was he who was surfeited in
pleasures and desires of this sort, and was the slave of the
unnecessary desires, whereas he who was subject to the necessary
only was miserly and oligarchical?
Very true.
(B. Jowett)
* * * * *
Nakedness, both of boys and girls, was not an obscenity in ancient
Greece. The statesman Lycurgus, for example, established exercises in
Sparta in which boys and girls, in puris naturalibus, took part.
To the Greek philosopher Plato, too, nudity involved no indecency. He
actually advocated, in _The Laws_, naked dances by boys and girls, for
the purpose of mutual acquaintance.
_Dioscorides_
Pedanius Dioscorides, who flourished in the first century A.D., was born
in Anazarbus. He became an army physician: but, in addition, he was
deeply interested and versed in pharmacological subjects. With the
purpose of compiling a kind of encyclopedic work in this field,
Dioscorides traveled widely throughout Greece, Asia Minor, and the
Mediterranean countries, collecting information, legends, and
prescriptions.
Dioscorides is the author of a systematic Materia Medica, written with
clarity and precision and with an informative rather than a stylistic
purpose. His work includes plants and herbs, animals, minerals: all
arranged in exact subdivisions, and emphasizing the medicinal and
pharmacological virtues of all the items included. The text is arranged
in five books, and covers some thousand drugs. An English translation,
under the title of the Greek Herbal of Dioscorides, was produced by John
Goodyer in 1655, and was edited by Robert T. Gunther and first printed
by the Oxford University Press in 1934.
Apart from the fascination of the work in itself, Dioscorides lists a
number of herbs and roots that are of amatory interest as philtres.
Goodyer’s text, for the relevant items, follows:
Greek Cyclamen: It is sayd also that the root is taken amongst
love-procuring medicines being beaten, and soe made into
Trochiscks. Trochiscks are pastilles.
Brassica Rapa: Turnip: Also called Gongule. The Romans call it Rapum.
The roote of it being sod is nourishing, yet very windie, and
breeding moist and loose flesh, and provoking to Venerie.
(As an infusion) being dranck it is good against deadly medicines,
and doth provoke to Venerie.
Kuprinon: Oil of Cuperos. An invigorating oil.
Lolium Temulentum: Darnel: Being suffumigated with polenta, or Myrrh,
or Saffron, or Franckincense, it doth help conceptions.
Cardamom Lepidium Sativum: Cress: Some call it Cynocardamom. The best
is found in Babylon. The seed is effectual in inciting to
copulation.
Orchis Rubra: Orchis Papilionacea: And of this root it is said that if
the greater roote is eaten by men, it makes them beget males, and
the lesser, being eaten by women, to conceive females. It is
further storied that ye women in Thessalia do give to drink with
goates milk ye tenderer root to provoke Venerie, and the dry root
for ye suppressing, dissolving of Venerie. And that it being drank
ye one is dissolved by the other.
Satyrion: Also called Trifolium, because ‘it bears leaves in three’s,
as it were,’ bending down to ye earth like to Rumex or Lilium, yet
lesser, and reddish. But a naked stalk, long, as of a cubit, a
flower like a Lilly, white; a bulbous root, as bigg as an apple,
redd, but within white, like an egg, to ye taster sweet and
pleasant to ye mouth. This one ought to drink in black hard wine
for ye Opisthotonon, and use it, if he will lie with a woman. For
they say that this also doth stirr up courage in ye conjunction.
Saturion Eruthronion: Called by the Romans Morticulum Veneris. It hath
a seed like to flax seed. It is said that it doth stirr up
conjunctions, like ye Scincus doth. It is storied that the root
being taken into ye hand doth provoke to Venerie, but much more,
being drank with wine.
Salvia Horminum: The Romans call it Geminales. It is an herb like to
Marrubium. In the wild it is found round swart, but in the other
somewhat long, and black, of which there is use, and this also is
thought being drank with wine to provoke conjunction.
Galium Verum: Gallion. But ye root doth provoke to conjunction.
Katananke: The Romans call it Herba Filicula. The roots are of two
kinds. ‘But some report that both kinds are good for Philters, and
they say that the Thessalian women do use them.’
Phuteuma: Also called Silene spurium. Phuteuma hath leaves like to
Radicula, but smaller, much seed, bored through, little root,
thin, close to the earth, which some relate to be good for a love
medicine.
_Nonnus_
Nonnus was a Greek epic poet of Panopolis, in Egypt. He flourished in
the fifth century A.D., and is the author of _Dionysiaca_. This is a
long epic poem describing, in abundant detail, with picturesque imagery,
the triumphal progression of Dionysus, god of wine and fertility, to
India.
The poem is packed with quaint geographical lore, with a miscellaneous
mass of information on astrology and plants and other subjects
intertwined into the primary theme, and it also contains many erotic
incidents of a mythological nature.
The Corybantes take a prominent place in the worship of Dionysus. They
are the frantic, orgiastic priests of Cybele, the Mighty Mother of the
Gods, and their passionate ceremonials touch the erotic field.
The handsome, effeminate Cadmus appears—the cheeks of his love-begetting
face are red as roses, chants the poet: and the sight of Cadmus is
itself an amatory urge.
It is effective, too, in the case of Harmonia, destined to be Cadmus’
mate. Aphrodite addresses the prospective bride:
I will teach those grace-breathing kisses to women unhappy in
love.
There was, evidently, knowledge of potions and similar excitants, for
one character pleads:
Tell me what varied store of balsams can I apply in my heart to
cure the wound of love.
And again:
I shrink before a woman, for she shoots bright shafts from her
lovesmit countenance and pierces me with her beauty.
* * * * *
In the sixth century A.D., Theodora, a public courtesan whose name was a
byword in Byzantium, became first the mistress and then the wife of the
Roman Emperor Justinian. Even as an Empress she did not abandon her
profligate ways. She had experienced and invited every possible variety
of erotic practice. She went out with bands of youths and spent the
night in their riotous company. Her erotic frenzies drove her to public
exhibitionism. Often she had appeared in the theatre in puris
naturalibus. Yet her personal beauty made the Emperor her blind slave,
while her lusts extended in every direction.
* * * * *
The Greek chronicler Procopius describes the court of the Roman Emperor
Justinian and his consort Theodora. The Imperial general attached to the
court was Belisarius. He had a wife, named Antonina, who was so
passionate that she consummated her erotic impulses, in relation to a
youth named Theodosius, in the full presence of her servants and
attendant maids.
* * * * *
The Byzantine general Belisarius, attached to the court of the Emperor
Justinian, in the sixth century A.D., was again and again the victim of
his wife’s flagrant infidelities. Again and again, however, he forgave
her. He permitted himself self-deception, in spite, at times, of the
evidence of his own eyes. He was so deeply infatuated with her that he
preferred to retain her at all costs.
* * * * *
The Greek orator Demosthenes, in one of his famous legal speeches,
successfully pleaded for the death penalty in the case of one of the
mistresses of the dramatist Sophocles. She was associated with a secret
club, and was initiated in the preparation of philtres and magic
potions.
* * * * *
Among the Greeks, the concept of love in the modern sense was rare. Nor
was the medieval attitude to amatory sensibilities, embodied in courtly
love, any more prevalent. Love, in a general sense, was treated as an
aberration from normal life, a kind of sickness, a lack of balance in
the elements of the entity. Yet there was, of course, as the Greek
Anthology and other poetic testimony indicate, lust and passion and
erotic intimacy. There was, too, a greater freedom in this relationship
between men and public women, nor did this association affect in a
negative sense the marriage relationship.
There were these professional public hetairae, female companions who
often had marked intellectual endowments, whose association with poets
and dramatists, statesmen and philosophers brought not the slightest
stigma on such men in their artistic or public career. Aspasia of
Miletus was one of the most outstanding of this group. She was the
mistress of the statesman Pericles. Gnathaena and Lais were equally
known. It was said that Plato was in love with the hetaira Archeanassa
of Colophon. The comic poet Menander was associated with Glycera.
Phryne, the priestess of Aphrodite, as she was termed, was the most
beautiful of them all, the model for the sculptor Praxiteles’ Aphrodite.
The seductive equipment of the hetaira was as various as in modern
times, and as effective. It included diaphanous robes, of Coan silk,
veils and scarves, mirrors and unguents and rouge, jewelry for neck and
ears and arms. And the hetaira replenished her armory and refurbished
her memory of her techniques: for there were at hand, for her constant
use, manuals that contained guidance, amatory and financial and social,
specific instructions in a multiplicity of hypothetical but more than
probable cases, and ominous warnings as well.