The Myth of the Cave
-- Plato
And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened:--Behold! human beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.
I see.
And do you see, I said, men passing
along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of
animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the
wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.
You have shown me a strange image,
and they are strange prisoners.
Like ourselves, I replied; and they
see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire
throws on the opposite wall of the cave?
True, he said; how could they see
anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?
And of the objects which are being
carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?
Yes, he said.
And if they were able to converse
with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was
actually before them?
Very true.
And suppose further that the
prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to
fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came
from the passing shadow?
No question, he replied.
To them, I said, the truth
would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
That is certain.
And now look again, and see
what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their
error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand
up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer
sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the
realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then
conceive some one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but
that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards
more real existence, he has a clearer vision,--what will be his reply? And you
may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass
and requiring him to name them,--will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy
that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now
shown to him?
Far truer.
And if he is compelled to look
straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him
turn away to take refuge in the objects of vision which he can see, and which
he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being
shown to him?
True, he said.
And suppose once more, that he
is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he is
forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and
irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will
not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.
Not all in a moment, he said.
He will require to grow accustomed to the
sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the
reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the objects
themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the
spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the
sun or the light of the sun by day?
Certainly.
Last of all he will be able to see
the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in
his own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.
Certainly.
He will then proceed to argue that
this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the guardian of all that
is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he
and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?
Clearly, he said, he would first see
the sun and then reason about him.
And when he remembered his old
habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not
suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them?
Certainly, he would.
And if they were in the habit of
conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the
passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed
after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw
conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honors
and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,
Better to be the poor servant of a
poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live
after their manner?
Yes, he said, I think that he would
rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this
miserable manner.
Imagine once more, I said, such a
one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would
he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?
To be sure, he said.
And if there were a contest, and he
had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved
out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become
steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight
might be very considerable), would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him
that up he went and down he came without his eyes; and that it was better not
even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him
up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to
death.
No question, he said.
This entire allegory, I said, you
may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the
world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend
me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the
intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have
expressed--whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But whether true or false, my
opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all,
and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the
universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the
lord of light in this visible world, Here Plato describes his notion of God in
a way that was influence profoundly Christian theologians. and the immediate
source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon
which he would act rationally either in public or private life must have his
eye fixed.
I agree, he said, as far as I am
able to understand you.
Moreover, I said, you must not
wonder that those who attain to this beatific vision are unwilling to descend
to human affairs; for their souls are ever hastening into the upper world where
they desire to dwell; which desire of theirs is very natural, if our allegory
may be trusted.
Yes, very natural.
And is there anything surprising in
one who passes from divine contemplations to the evil state of man, misbehaving
himself in a ridiculous manner; if, while his eyes are blinking and before he
has become accustomed to the surrounding darkness, he is compelled to fight in
courts of law, or in other places, about the images or the shadows of images of
justice, and is endeavoring to meet the conception of those who have never yet
seen absolute justice?
Anything but surprising, he replied.
Any one who has common sense will
remember that the bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from
two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light,
which is true of the mind's eye; and he who remembers this when he sees any one
whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh; he will
first ask whether that soul of man has come out of the brighter life, and is
unable to see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness
to the day is dazzled by excess of light. And he will count the one happy in
his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a
mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be
more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above
out of the light into the den.
That, he said, is a very just
distinction.
But then, if I am right, certain
professors of education must be wrong when they say that they can put a
knowledge into the soul which was not there before, like sight into blind eyes.
They undoubtedly say this, he
replied.
Whereas our argument shows that the
power and capacity of learning exists in the soul already; and that just as the
eye was unable to turn from darkness to light without the whole body, so too
the instrument of knowledge can only by the movement of the whole soul be
turned from the world of becoming into that of being, and learn by degrees to
endure the sight of being and of the brightest and best of being, or in other
words, of the good.
PDF file: TheMyth of the Cave.pdf
Brought to you
by,
Khabirul Basar Tonmoy
Department
of English,
University of Rajshahi.
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