3.5: The Emotional Power of Tune and Rhythm

See 398c-400e. Unfortunately, no text adequately explaining the details of the Greek musical modes (harmoniai) survives from the time of Plato. What scholars have been able to piece together with a reasonable degree of certainty is that musicians considered the intervals of the fourth (e.g., c – f) and the fifth (e.g., c – g) “consonant,” that these two intervals, but especially the fourth, structured their scales, determining the top, middle, and bottom notes (see 443d), and that the notes falling between the upper and lower ends of the fourth varied according to the particular mode. (It also appears that the modes make considerable use of quartertones, notes that fall between adjacent keys on a piano. If it were possible for us to go back in time and listen to this music, accustomed as we are to the conventions of Western music, we might be surprised at its strangeness.) Although descriptions of the musical modes come down to us from late antiquity, quite detailed in some respects, scholars dispute whether the terms used in the Republic and the terms used in these texts refer to the same things. And even if they do, no one knows which notes in a given mode would have been emphasized, or in what sequence they would have been played, or with what rhythm, or in what tempo. So when Socrates talks about music in “the mixo-Lydian” or “the syntono- Lydian” we just have to accept that we do not know, and may never know, what sounds he has in mind. That said, the gist of his thought is straightforward enough. The patterns of rhythm and pitch that constitute what we human beings recognize as music have a great power to affect our emotions. And different musical patterns affect the soul differently. For a simple example (simple for our ears), compare the C major scale, c – d – e – f – g – a – b – c, to what has sometimes been called the “gypsy scale,” c – d – e flat – f sharp – g – a flat – b – c. Notice how the long interval between e flat and f sharp stirs up a kind of tension or restlessness in the soul that cannot be achieved in C major. Socrates’ idea is that the harmonic modes and rhythmic meters “imitate” various sorts of people. Just as words and gestures are able to call to mind a person’s actions and thoughts, tunes and rhythms are able to call to mind a person’s emotions. (Consider how directors use music in movies nowadays. We can only speculate about how the Greek dramatists used it in their theater productions.) And so, just as we should be concerned about the influence of verbal imitation on the guardians-in-training, we should be concerned about the effect on their souls of tunes and rhythms. They should be encouraged not only to act, outwardly, like virtuous people, but also to feel like them within. Socrates thinks two sorts of music should suffice: one that imitates a person courageously standing up to danger or misfortune, and one that imitates a temperate person who calmly persuades others or is in turn persuaded by them.

• How is it that music is able to stir us emotionally in so many different ways? Is Socrates right that it works through imitation? Is there resemblance between people and music?

• Can music encourage a person to live a life of virtue, helping them feel what it is like to live such a life?

• Can music have a corrupting effect on a person, causing them to have feelings in tension with living a life of virtue?

• Suppose someone were to object that emotions have nothing to do with being a good person. What matters instead is whether or not a person acts dutifully, duty being a matter not of following what feels right, but of commanding oneself to do what reason determines is right. How might Socrates reply?