Book 3, Chapter 10

6 min

But indeed, if chance brought him into conversation with any one possessed of an art, and using it for daily purposes of business, he never failed to be useful to this kind of person. For instance, stepping one time into the studio of Parrhasius the painter, and getting into conversation with him—

But indeed, if he happened to talk with someone who practiced a craft for a living, he always helped that person. For example, he once visited the studio of Parrhasius the painter and began talking with him:

{alla men kai}... "But indeed the sphere of his helpfulness was not circumscribed; if," etc.

For Parrhasius of Ephesus, son of Evenor and rival of Zeuxis, see Woltmann and Woermann, "Hist. of Painting," p. 47 foll., and Cobet, "Pros. Xen." p. 50 (see especially Quint. XII. x. 627). He may have been a young man at the time of the conversation, whether it actually took place or is imagined.

I suppose, Parrhasius (said he), painting may be defined as "a representation of visible objects," may it not? That is to say, by means of colours and palette you painters represent and reproduce as closely as possible the ups and downs, lights and shadows, hard and soft, rough and smooth surfaces, the freshness of youth and the wrinkles of age, do you not?

“I suppose, Parrhasius,” he said, “that painting may be defined as ‘a representation of visible objects,’ can it not? In other words, you painters use colors and a palette to reproduce surfaces as closely as possible. You show their rises and dips, light and shadow, hardness and softness, roughness and smoothness. You also show the freshness of youth and the wrinkles of age, do you not?”

Following Schneider, L. Dind., etc., and Stobaeus, read {e graphike estin eikasia}. If using the vulg. {graphike estin e eikasia}, translate: "Painting is the term applied to a particular representation," etc.

You are right (he answered), that is so.

You are right, he answered. That is true.

Soc. Further, in portraying ideal types of beauty, seeing it is not easy to light upon any one human being who is absolutely devoid of blemish, you cull from many models the most beautiful traits of each, and so make your figures appear completely beautiful?

Soc. Also, when portraying ideal beauty, you cannot easily find one person without any flaws. So do you choose the most beautiful features from many models to make your figures look completely beautiful?

Compare Cic. "de Invent." ii. 1 ad in. on Zeuxis; Max. Tur. "Dissert." 23, 3, cited in Schneider ad loc.

Parrh. Yes, that is how we do.

Parrh. Yes, that's how we do it.

Or, "that is the secret of our creations," or "our art of composition."

Well, but stop (Socrates continued); do you also pretend to represent in similar perfection the characteristic moods of the soul, its captivating charm and sweetness, with its deep wells of love, its intensity of yearning, its burning point of passion? or is all this quite incapable of being depicted?

But wait, Socrates continued. Do you also claim to portray the soul’s moods just as perfectly? Can you capture its charm and sweetness, its deep wells of love, its intense yearning, and its burning passion? Or is it impossible to depict any of this?

Nay (he answered), how should a mood be other than inimitable, Socrates, when it possesses neither linear proportion nor colour, nor any of those qualities which you named just now; when, in a word, it is not even visible?

No, he answered, how could a mood be imitated, Socrates? It has no linear proportion , color, or any of the other qualities you just named. In short, a mood is not even visible.

Literally, "symmetry." Compare Plin. xxxv. 10, "primus symmetriam picturae dedit," etc.

Soc. Well, but the kindly look of love, the angry glance of hate at any one, do find expression in the human subject, do they not?

Soc. But people do show a kind look of love or an angry glance of hate toward someone, don't they?

Or, "the glance of love, the scowl of hate, which one directs towards another, are recognised expressions of human feeling." Compare the description of Parrhasius's own portrait of Demos, ap. Plin. loc. cit.

Parrh. No doubt they do.

Parrh. No doubt they do.

Soc. Then this look, this glance, at any rate may be imitated in the eyes, may it not?

Soc. Then, at least, this look, this glance, can be imitated in the eyes, can't it?

Undoubtedly (he answered).

Certainly (he answered).

Soc. And do anxiety and relief of mind occasioned by the good or evil fortune of those we love both wear the same expression?

Soc. And do we show the same expression when we feel anxiety or relief over the good or bad fortune of those we love?

By no means (he answered); at the thought of good we are radiant, at that of evil a cloud hangs on the brow.

“Not at all,” he answered. “When we think of good things, our faces light up. When we think of evil, our brows cloud over.”

Soc. Then here again are looks with it is possible to represent?

Soc. Then here again, are there looks that can be represented?

Parrh. Decidedly.

Parrh. Definitely.

Soc. Furthermore, as through some chink or crevice, there pierces through the countenance of a man, through the very posture of his body as he stands or moves, a glimpse of his nobility and freedom, or again of something in him low and grovelling—the calm of self-restraint, and wisdom, or the swagger of insolence and vulgarity?

Soc. Furthermore, doesn't a man's face and posture, whether he stands or moves, reveal something of his character? As if through a crack or crevice, we glimpse his nobility and freedom, or something low and groveling in him. We see the calm of self-restraint and wisdom, or the swagger of insolence and vulgarity.

You are right (he answered).

“You’re right,” he answered.

Soc. Then these too may be imitated?

Soc. So these can be imitated too?

No doubt (he said).

Of course, he said.

Soc. And which is the pleasanter type of face to look at, do you think—one on which is imprinted the characteristics of a beautiful, good, and lovable disposition, or one which bears the impress of what is ugly, and bad, and hateful?

Soc. And which face do you think is more pleasant to look at? One that shows a beautiful, good, and lovable disposition, or one that shows an ugly, bad, and hateful disposition?

For this theory, compare Ruskin, "Mod. P." ii. 94 foll., and indeed throughout.

Parrh. Doubtless, Socrates, there is a vast distinction between the two.

Parrh. Certainly, Socrates, there is a huge difference between the two.

At another time he entered the workshop of the sculptor Cleiton, and in course of conversation with him said:

On another occasion, he visited the sculptor Cleiton’s workshop. During their conversation, he said:

An unknown artist. Coraes conj. {Kleona}. Cf. Plin. xxxiv. 19; Paus. v. 17, vi. 3. He excelled at making portrait statues. See Jowett, "Plato," iv.; "Laws," p. 123.

You have a gallery of handsome people here, Cleiton, runners, and wrestlers, and boxers, and pancratiasts—that I see and know; but how do you give the magic touch of life to your creations, which most of all allures the soul of the beholder through his sense of vision?

You have a gallery of handsome people here, Cleiton: runners, wrestlers, boxers, and pancratiasts. I can see and recognize them. But how do you give your creations that magical touch of life? It is this quality that most captivates the soul of the person looking at them.

Following L. Dind., read {kaloi ous}. If using the common reading {alloious}, translate "You have a variety of types, Cleiton, not all of one mould, but runners," etc. Alternatively, "I see quite well how you give the diversity of form to your runners," etc.

As Cleiton stood perplexed, and did not answer at once, Socrates added: Is it by closely imitating the forms of living beings that you succeed in giving that touch of life to your statues?

Cleiton looked puzzled and did not answer immediately. Socrates added: Do you make your statues look lifelike by closely copying the forms of living beings?

No doubt (he answered).

“Certainly,” he answered.

Soc. It is, is it not, by faithfully copying the various muscular contractions of the body in obedience to the play of gesture and poise, the wrinklings of flesh and the sprawl of limbs, the tensions and the relaxations, that you succeed in making your statues like real beings—make them "breathe" as people say?

Soc. Don’t you make your statues look like living beings by faithfully copying how the body’s muscles contract? You show how muscles move with each gesture and pose, as flesh wrinkles and limbs sprawl, tense, and relax. Isn’t that how you make your statues "breathe," as people say?

Cleit. Without a doubt.

Cleit. Without a doubt.

Soc. And does not the faithful imitation of the various affections of the body when engaged in any action impart a particular pleasure to the beholder?

Soc. And doesn't accurately depicting the body's various movements during an action give the viewer a particular pleasure?

Cleit. I should say so.

Cleit. I would say so.

Soc. Then the threatenings in the eyes of warriors engaged in battle should be carefully copied, or again you should imitate the aspect of a conqueror radiant with success?

Soc. Then should you carefully copy the threatening look in the eyes of warriors in battle, or imitate a victorious conqueror radiant with success?

Cleit. Above all things.

Cleit. Above all else.

Soc. It would seem then that the sculptor is called upon to incorporate in his ideal form the workings and energies also of the soul?

Soc. So it seems the sculptor must also show the soul's workings and energies in the ideal form?

Paying a visit to Pistias, the corselet maker, when that artist showed him some exquisite samples of his work, Socrates exclaimed:

Socrates visited Pistias, the corselet maker. When Pistias showed him some exquisite examples of his work, Socrates exclaimed:

See Athen. iv. 20, where the same artist is apparently called {Piston}. For the type of person, see Moroni's "Portrait of a Tailor" in the National Gallery. See "Handbook," Edw. T. Cook, p. 152.

By Hera! a pretty invention this, Pistias, by which you contrive that the corselet should cover the parts of the person which need protection, and at the same time leave free play to the arms and hands.... but tell me, Pistias (he added), why do you ask a higher price for these corselets of yours if they are not stouter or made of costlier material than the others?

By Hera! That is a clever invention, Pistias. Your breastplate covers the parts of the body that need protection, while leaving the arms and hands free to move.... But tell me, Pistias, he added, why do you charge more for your breastplates if they are no stronger or made of more expensive material than the others?

Because, Socrates (he answered), mine are of much finer proportion.

“Because, Socrates,” he answered, “mine are much better proportioned.”

Soc. Proportion! Then how do you make this quality apparent to the customer so as to justify the higher price—by measure or weight? For I presume you cannot make them all exactly equal and of one pattern—if you make them fit, as of course you do?

Soc. Proportion! How do you show the customer this quality to justify the higher price? Do you measure or weigh them? For I assume you cannot make them all exactly alike and in one pattern if you make them fit. And of course you do make them fit.

Fit indeed! that I most distinctly do (he answered), take my word for it: no use in a corselet without that.

“Fit? It certainly does,” he answered. “Take my word for it. A corselet is no use if it doesn’t fit.”

But then are not the wearer's bodies themselves (asked Socrates) some well proportioned and others ill?

But aren't the wearers' bodies themselves sometimes well proportioned and sometimes poorly proportioned? Socrates asked.

Decidedly so (he answered).

Definitely, he answered.

Soc. Then how do you manage to make the corselet well proportioned if it is to fit an ill-proportioned body?

Soc. Then how do you make a well-proportioned corselet if it has to fit a poorly proportioned body?

Or, "how do you make a well-proportioned corselet fit an ill- proportioned body? how well proportioned?"

Pist. To the same degree exactly as I make it fit. What fits is well proportioned.

Pist. Exactly as much as I make it fit. Whatever fits is well proportioned.

Soc. It seems you use the term "well-proportioned" not in an absolute sense, but in reference to the wearer, just as you might describe a shield as well proportioned to the individual it suits; and so of a military cloak, and so of the rest of things, in your terminology? But maybe there is another considerable advantage in this "fitting"?

Soc. It seems you do not use "well-proportioned" in an absolute sense, but in relation to the wearer. You might describe a shield as well-proportioned to the person it suits. And you would say the same of a military cloak and other things? But perhaps there is another considerable advantage to this "fitting"?

Pist. Pray instruct me, Socrates, if you have got an idea.

Pist. Please tell me, Socrates, if you have an idea.

Soc. A corselet which fits is less galling by its weight than one which does not fit, for the latter must either drag from the shoulders with a dead weight or press upon some other part of the body, and so it becomes troublesome and uncomfortable; but that which fits, having its weight distributed partly along the collar-bone and shoulder-blade, partly over the shoulders and chest, and partly the back and belly, feels like another natural integument rather than an extra load to carry.

Soc. A well-fitting corselet is less burdensome than one that does not fit. A poorly fitting corselet either hangs heavily from the shoulders or presses on another part of the body. This makes it troublesome and uncomfortable. But a well-fitting corselet distributes its weight across the collarbone, shoulder blades, shoulders, chest, back, and belly. It feels more like another layer of skin than an extra load to carry.

See Schneider on this passage. Compare Eur. "Electr." 192, {prosthemata aglaias}, and, for the weight, Aristoph. "Peace," 1224.

Pist. You have named the very quality which gives my work its exceptional value, as I consider; still there are customers, I am bound to say, who look for something else in a corselet—they must have them ornamental or inlaid with gold.

Pist. You have named the very quality that, in my view, makes my work exceptionally valuable. Still, I must admit that some customers want something else in a corselet. They insist that it be decorative or inlaid with gold.

For all that (replied Socrates), if they end by purchasing an ill-fitting article, they only become the proprietors of a curiously-wrought and gilded nuisance, as it seems to me. But (he added), as the body is never in one fixed position, but is at one time curved, at another raised erect how can an exactly-modelled corselet fit?

Even so, Socrates replied, if they buy something that does not fit, they merely own an elaborately made and gilded nuisance, it seems to me. But, he added, the body never stays in one position. It bends at one moment and stands upright at another. How, then, can a precisely fitted corselet fit?

Pist. It cannot fit at all.

Pist. It doesn't fit at all.

You mean (Socrates continued) that it is not the exactly-modelled corselet which fits, but that which does not gall the wearer in the using?

You mean, Socrates continued, that the corselet that fits is not the one shaped exactly to the body, but the one that does not chafe the wearer during use?

Pist. There, Socrates, you have hit the very point. I see you understand the matter most precisely.

Pist. Exactly, Socrates, you have hit the point. I see you understand the matter very precisely.

Or, "There, Socrates, you have found exactly the right phrase. I couldn't put it more clearly myself."