The Night Socrates Drank Everyone Under the Table

Transcript

An Athenian drinking party could begin with a very sensible decision. Tonight, let’s not drink too much. This one did. It failed. Plato, Socrates’ pupil and one of antiquity’s greatest philosophers, tells us about a gathering at the house of Agathon, a young playwright who had just won first prize with his tragedy. There had already been a major celebration the night before. Several guests were still recovering. Aristophanes — Athens’ great comic playwright — admitted that he had been thoroughly soaked in wine. Fortunately, there was a doctor present. His advice was simple: Getting drunk is bad for you. Everyone agreed. So no heavy drinking tonight. They sent away the flute-girl who had come to entertain them and decided to do something else. Talk. The subject was love. Men reclining on couches. Wine mixed with water. Food. Conversation. And one after another, some of the most remarkable men in Athens trying to explain what love actually is. Then came a noise at the door. Someone was outside. Very drunk. Very loud. It was Alcibiades. Beautiful, notorious and ambitious — one of the most controversial men in Athens. He came in leaning on his companions, wearing a wreath of ivy and violets, with a flute-girl beside him. He took one look at the room. Everyone was far too sober. This had to be corrected. Alcibiades ordered an enormous drinking vessel to be filled with wine. He emptied it. Then he ordered it filled for Socrates. But he warned the others: Don’t expect this to work. You can give Socrates as much wine as you like. He never gets drunk. The quiet philosophical evening was over. More revellers arrived. The drinking became chaotic. People left. Others fell asleep where they were. Eventually, dawn came. Almost everyone was gone or unconscious. Only three men were still awake.

Agathon. Aristophanes. And Socrates. They were still drinking. And Socrates was still arguing. Now he was trying to convince the two playwrights that the same person should be able to write both tragedy and comedy. Eventually, Aristophanes fell asleep. Then Agathon. Socrates was the last man awake. He stood up. Walked to the Lyceum. Washed. And carried on with his day as if the night had barely happened.