Conversing with Aged Men

I just started re-reading Plato's Republic, and in the first three pages came across this dialogue; I wonder if my father-in-law remembers these thoughts from his friends. I'm sorry that it feels too late to read it out loud to him - but maybe I can try. In better days, he would have like that - and what's said here - a lot.

You don't come to see me, Socrates, as often as you ought: If I were still able to go and see you I would not ask you to come to me. But at my age I can hardly get to the city, and therefore you should come oftener to the Piraeus. For let me tell you, that the more the pleasures of the body fade away, the greater to me is the pleasure and charm of conversation. Do not then deny my request, but make our house your resort and keep company with these young men; we are old friends, and you will be quite at home with us.

I replied: There is nothing which for my part I like better, Cephalus, than conversing with aged men; for I regard them as travelers who have gone a journey which I too may have to go, and of whom I ought to inquire, whether the way is smooth and easy, or rugged and difficult. And this is a question which I should like to ask of you who have arrived at that time which the poets call the 'threshold of old age' --Is life harder towards the end, or what report do you give of it?

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 cannot eat, I cannot 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 in 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 the thing of which you speak; I feel as if I had 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.

I listened in admiration, and wanting to draw him out, that he might go on --Yes, Cephalus, I said: but I rather suspect that people in general are not convinced by you when you speak thus; they think that old age sits lightly upon you, not because of your happy disposition, but because you are rich, and wealth is well known to be a great comforter.

You are right, he replied; they are not convinced: and there is something in what they say; not, however, so much as they imagine. I might answer them as Themistocles answered the Seriphian who was abusing him and saying that he was famous, not for his own merits but because he was an Athenian: 'If you had been a native of my country or I of yours, neither of us would have been famous.' And to those who are not rich and are impatient of old age, the same reply may be made; for to the good poor man old age cannot be a light burden, nor can a bad rich man ever have peace with himself."

Plato's Republic, Part One, Prelude.

Comments

[Dave]

Hmm. Well, it was certainly true of my maternal gradfather, who had had a bit of a temper when young. My paternal grandfather stayed gloomy and grouchy to the end. But what about aged women? Is there any difference? To me, they seem to accept aging with much more grace, and with much more of their intellectual curiosity still intact, on average.

[Leslee]

I think temperament is more indicative than gender of how gracefully one will age. Women may have some advantage in valuing and maintaining friendships among themselves, especially since they usually outlive men. Also women have not, traditionally anyway, tended tp define themselves by their work, which can be a problem with some men when they retire.

Anyway, interesting post, Beth. Funny that we think we're so different from the ancients. This seems as relevant today as then.

[Kaycie]

I would like to know what your father-in-law would have to say about that. I suspect it would be something illuminating and sublime.

[pohanginapete]

I regard them as travelers who have gone a journey which I too may have to go... —I wasn't aware this was to be found among Plato's works, but I did realise the truth of it a long time ago when I was lucky to count as a good friend a man in his 80s. I have an aunt in her 80s now, too, and her temperament is inspirational. Sadly, I've known, and know of, others who are just the opposite. As for Dave's question, perhaps any answer would have to be so qualified — for example, by identifying the culture in which the person grows old — that a generalisation about men and women would be almost meaningless. I guess the last paragraph of the excerpt makes that point pretty clearly.

The prospect of being older than any of your friends could be scary. Thinking of it like this — as a journey; as an opportunity to go somewhere ahead of your friends and show them the way — seems to make it far more appealing. Well, to me at least... ;^)

[marja-leena]

Wonderful reading, I've come back to reread this a couple of times. I'd agree with Leslee and Pohaninapete that temperament is the most important factor in how well one accepts and carries old age. I think I'm getting grouchier... yet would like to be one of those inspirational elders like your f-i-l.

[language hat]

That's a great passage, all right. I do wish Plato weren't translated quite so mustily; in Greek he's much more conversational and vivid. For instance, where the translator has "Some complain of the slights which are put upon them by relations," the Greek rendered as "slights" is propēlakiseis, which is derived from a word for 'mud, mire' (and thus uses the same metaphor as our "mud-slinging"); when (old!) Tiresias is delivering his magisterial takedown of Oedipus in response to the latter's threats and insults, he finishes his peroration with:

pros tauta kai Kreonta kai toumon stoma
propēlakize. Sou gar ouk estin brotōn
kakion hostis ektribēsetai pote.

Which Robert Fagles renders:

"There. Now smear us with insults—Creon, myself
and every word I've said. No man will ever
be rooted from the earth as brutally as you."

(I've bolded the word in question.) Plato was particularly fond of the word, and a punchier translation than "slight" should be used!

[beth]

Thanks, all. Yes, women do seem to do this a bit differently in general, but I've known grouchy, bitter old women and sweet, accepting old men. One thing I've observed for sure is that no one wants to visit the crotchety bitter elders who talk about themselves constantly and complain about life, while people who stay interested in other people and engaged with life are often sought out for their wisdom - so people kind of reap what they sow, even in old age.

Pete - yes, your aunt is inspirational! And my FIL would agree with you that one of the great sadnesses of old age is outliving all your friends, mainly because there is no one to reminisce with about the things that he wants to remember.

Hat - thanks for the further quotes and notes on translation - I've got Liddell & Scott open and am exploring the words in question - pretty colorful stuff, in the Greek! (the original verb: "to cover with mud: to treat with indignity, to abuse foully; also to throw in one's teeth, reproach with -- and then, good old Oxford translates the noun as "contumelious treatment" !) I like Fagles' "smear." But what an expressive language ancient Greek was. This re-reading is really reminding me of that, even in the stuffy Pelican translation I've got.

[Fred Garber]

This post comes at a good time for me. George Carlin died last week and I have been watching again all of his old HBO specials, have been rereading some interviews with him and have been watching and reading the comments about his life. Carlin said in 1 interview that if some people were not walking out during his performances he was not doing his job. I am not sure what Carlinhas to do with Socrates but it resonated with me.

[language hat]

I suspect Socrates felt the same way. (At the end, it escalated to "if people aren't giving me hemlock, I'm not doing my job.)