Plato's Timaeus as Cultural Icon (review)

This volume emanates from an international conference entitled "Plato's Timaeus as Cultural Icon" held at the University of Notre Dame in 2000. In the introduction, the editor and organizer, Gretchen Reydams-Schils (GRS), contends that the title is meant to communicate the considerable influence of Plato's Timaeus on so many different intellectual traditions and asks "What could account for this philosophical and cultural status?" (1).

There are thirteen essays by distinguished specialists in the field. For some reason, a number of the essays do not focus on the general theme of the volume and the question GRS raises, "what could account for this philosophical and cultural status?" is never directly, or even indirectly, addressed. In this short review, I will examine the essays in their order of appearance and make some general comments at the end.

Mitchell Miller, in the opening essay, argues that the Timaeus must be understood as addressed to a nonphilosophical audience, although he endeavors to show how the philosophically minded could interpret the Timaeus in light of the god-given method, the longer way, of the Philebus (16c-17a). With this in mind, Miller shows that the constitution of the elements and animals in the Timaeus was in fact determined in light of this method. From this perspective, the Timaeus is addressed not only to a nonphilosophical audience—albeit chiefly to these—but also to a philosophical audience.

Kenneth Sayre discusses a number of inconsistencies and incoherences in Plato's description/analysis of the Receptacle and concludes that it is nothing short of a "failed experiment." Personally, I find Plato's analysis rather helpful in a manner analogous to the famous similes he employs in the Republic to help us grasp the Form of the Good. Meanwhile, there is nothing in the essay, as with Miller's essay, to indicate why the Timaeus would constitute a cultural icon (unless as a paradigm for opacity and thus as a catalyst for allegorical interpretation, but again this is not Sayre's intent).

John Dillon, with whom the notion of the Timaeus as a cultural icon begins to emerge, emphasizes that most of the members of the Old Academy, including Speusippus, Xenocrates, and Cantor, maintained (contra Aristotle) that Plato did not hold that the universe was created. While it is true, as he notes, that they were in a better position to interpret the master, the fact remains that they all had different interpretations. There is thus a sense in which Dillon's analysis confirms Miller's position that Plato meant the Timaeus for two very different audiences.

Carlos Lévy focuses on the difficulty that Cicero had in translating the Timaeus without reverting to Stoic concepts. He argues that a Latin reader, unfamiliar with the Greek, would assume that transcendence is nonexistent and that mind and matter, as with the Stoics, are one. However, Lévy remains silent on why Cicero would not allow Plato to speak for himself, given that this appears to be the norm with many of his other interlocutors. Moreover, it is difficult again to see why the Timaeus would constitute a "cultural icon."

Luc Brisson presents the Timaeus in a radical new light. He shows the extent to which the Timaeus, or more precisely the highly exegetical Middle Platonist interpretation of the work, was the primary reference text for the influential Chaldean Oracles. This is an excellent example of the iconic status of the Timaeus, but it is worth noting that the Chaldean Oracles themselves and their doctrine of salvation may have been historically more influential than the Timaeus itself.

David Runia's essay is also an excellent example of the iconic influence of Plato's Timaeus, but unlike Brisson, he focuses on a particular feature of the cosmogonical account rather than the entire treatise: how the Timaeus influenced the debate, including with regard to the opening verses of Genesis, on first principles and the doctrine of creation. Runia...