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The Cave of RA
The Cave of RA—that is, incidentally.
It is actually very interesting to read what was written almost four centuries before our era.
That is, imagine: you can now read what a person wrote 2,500 years ago. He also walked around just as we do, thought about things, dreamed about something, philosophized...
And just as we do, he had a Teacher and teachers. Plato's teacher was Socrates.
By the way, it was Plato who left records about Atlantis.
The Allegory of the Cave — Wikipedia
An explanation of Plato's account itself, which follows below:
The account itself:
... look at it this way: people are, as it were, in an underground dwelling resembling a cave, with a wide opening extending along its entire length. From childhood they have been shackled by their legs and necks, so that they cannot move from their places and can see only what is directly in front of them, since they cannot turn their heads because of the chains. They face away from the light coming from a fire burning far above and behind them, and between the fire and the prisoners runs an upper road, fenced off by... a low wall like the screen behind which puppeteers place their assistants when they display their puppets above the screen.
... behind this wall, other people carry various objects, holding them so that they can be seen above the wall; they carry statues and all kinds of images of living beings made of stone and wood. As one would expect, some of those carrying them talk, while others remain silent.
— What a strange picture you are drawing, and what strange prisoners!
— They are like us. First of all, do you think that people in such a position could see anything of themselves or of one another besides the shadows cast by the fire onto the cave wall opposite them?
— How could they see anything else if they were forced to keep their heads motionless all their lives?
— And the objects carried along behind the wall—would the same not happen with them?.. If the prisoners were able to converse with one another, do you think they would not believe that they were giving names precisely to what they saw?
And if their dungeon echoed every sound uttered by any passerby, do you think they would attribute those sounds to anything other than the passing shadow?.. Such prisoners would take the shadows of the objects being carried past them as the whole and complete truth...
Now observe their release from the chains of ignorance and their healing from it—in other words, how all this would occur if something of the kind happened to them naturally.
When one of them was freed from his chains and suddenly forced to stand up, turn his neck, walk, and look upward toward the light, he would be in pain as he performed all these actions; he would be unable to look at those things in the bright light whose shadows he had seen before. And what do you think he would say when they began telling him that what he had seen before was trivial, but that now, approaching being and turning toward what was more real, he could gain a correct view? And especially if they pointed to one thing or another passing before him and asked what it was, forcing him to answer as well! Do you not think this would greatly confuse him, and that he would believe there was much more truth in what he had seen before than in what was now being shown to him?...
And if he were forced to look directly at the light itself, would his eyes not hurt, and would he not run back to the things he was capable of seeing, believing that they were truly more reliable than the things being shown to him?...
But if someone dragged him by force up the steep ascent, uphill, and did not let him go until he had brought him out into the sunlight, would he not suffer and resent such violence? And when he came into the light, would not his eyes be so dazzled by its radiance that he could not make out a single one of the objects whose reality he was now being told about... He would need time to grow accustomed, if he was to see all that was above. He should begin with what is easiest: first look at shadows, then at reflections in water of people and various objects, and only afterward at the things themselves; moreover, he would find it easier to see what is in the sky and the sky itself at night rather than by day—that is, to look at the light of the stars and the Moon, rather than at the Sun and its light.
And finally, I think, this man would be able to look upon the Sun itself, in its own place, and observe its nature, without limiting himself to watching its deceptive reflection in water or in other media foreign to it.
And then he would conclude that the Sun governs the seasons and the passage of the years, that it oversees everything in the visible world, and that it is somehow the cause of all that this man and the other prisoners had previously seen in the cave.
Recalling his former dwelling, its wisdom, and his fellow prisoners, would he not consider himself blessed by the change in his condition, and would he not pity his friends?
And if they had bestowed honors and praise on one another there, rewarding the one who had the sharpest sight in observing the objects passing by and remembered best what usually appeared first, what afterward, and what simultaneously, and who on that basis predicted the future, do you think the man who had already been freed from his bonds would still desire all this, or envy those whom the prisoners honored and who wielded influence among them?...
Consider this as well: if such a man went down there again and sat in the same place, would his eyes not be filled with darkness because of this sudden departure from the light of the Sun?.. And if he again had to compete with those perpetual prisoners in interpreting the meaning of the shadows? Until his sight adjusted and his eyes grew accustomed—and that would take considerable time—would he not appear ridiculous? They would say that he had returned from his ascent with damaged eyesight, and therefore that it was not even worth trying to go upward. And if anyone attempted to free the prisoners and lead them upward, would they not kill him if they could get their hands on him?...
So, my dear Glaucon, this comparison must be applied to everything said earlier: the realm revealed by sight resembles the prison dwelling, while the light from the fire within it is likened to the power of the Sun. The ascent and contemplation of things above is the soul's ascent into the realm of the intelligible. If you accept all this, you will understand my cherished thought—if indeed you wish to know it—and God knows whether it is true. This, then, is how it appears to me: in the realm of the knowable, the idea of the Good is the ultimate limit, and it is difficult to discern; but once it is discerned there, one must conclude that it is the cause of everything right and beautiful. In the visible realm it produces light and its ruler, while in the intelligible realm it is itself sovereign, on which truth and understanding depend; and whoever wishes to act consciously in private as well as public life must look toward it.
... do not be surprised that those who have reached all this do not wish to engage in human affairs; their souls are always striving upward. And this is natural, since it corresponds to the picture drawn above... But is it really surprising, in your opinion, if someone who has passed from divine contemplation to human wretchedness looks awkward and seems extremely ridiculous? His sight has not yet grown accustomed to it, and yet before he becomes used to the surrounding darkness, he is made to appear in court or somewhere else and argue about shadows of justice or the images that cast those shadows, having to dispute them in the manner perceived by people who have never seen justice itself.
Anyone who reflects would remember that there are two kinds of disturbances of vision, arising from two causes: either when one passes from light into darkness, or from darkness into light. The same thing happens to the soul: this can be understood by seeing that the soul is confused and unable to make anything out. Instead of laughing senselessly, it is better to observe whether this soul has come from a brighter life and has therefore been darkened through unfamiliarity, or whether, conversely, having passed from utter ignorance to a life of light, it has been blinded by the brilliant radiance. The former condition and life may be considered blessed; the latter deserves our compassion. If, however, someone still finds himself laughing when he looks at it, let him laugh less at it than at the soul that has come down from above, from the light.
Since this is true, this is how we must think about these souls: enlightenment is not at all what certain people claim it to be when they say that there is no knowledge in a person's soul and that they put it into the soul, as though they were putting sight into blind eyes.
Our reasoning shows instead that everyone has this capacity in their soul; the soul also has an instrument that helps each person learn. But just as it is impossible for the eye to turn from darkness to light except together with the whole body, so one must turn away with the whole soul from everything that comes into being; then a person's capacity for knowledge will be able to endure the contemplation of being and of what is brightest in it, which, as we maintain, is the Good. Is that not so?
The Cave of RA—that is, incidentally.
It is actually very interesting to read what was written almost four centuries before our era.
That is, imagine: you can now read what a person wrote 2,500 years ago. He also walked around just as we do, thought about things, dreamed about something, philosophized...
And just as we do, he had a Teacher and teachers. Plato's teacher was Socrates.
By the way, it was Plato who left records about Atlantis.
The Allegory of the Cave — Wikipedia
An explanation of Plato's account itself, which follows below:
The cave itself represents the “sensory world”—the visible world of everyday experience, where everything is uncertain and constantly changing. The chained prisoners (ordinary people) live in a world of conjecture and illusion, while the former prisoners, who are allowed to wander around the cave, hold the most accurate view of reality possible in the changeable world of perception and experience. The world beyond the cave is “true being,” the intelligible world, filled with objects of knowledge—ideal, eternal, and unchanging.
The account itself:
... look at it this way: people are, as it were, in an underground dwelling resembling a cave, with a wide opening extending along its entire length. From childhood they have been shackled by their legs and necks, so that they cannot move from their places and can see only what is directly in front of them, since they cannot turn their heads because of the chains. They face away from the light coming from a fire burning far above and behind them, and between the fire and the prisoners runs an upper road, fenced off by... a low wall like the screen behind which puppeteers place their assistants when they display their puppets above the screen.
... behind this wall, other people carry various objects, holding them so that they can be seen above the wall; they carry statues and all kinds of images of living beings made of stone and wood. As one would expect, some of those carrying them talk, while others remain silent.
— What a strange picture you are drawing, and what strange prisoners!
— They are like us. First of all, do you think that people in such a position could see anything of themselves or of one another besides the shadows cast by the fire onto the cave wall opposite them?
— How could they see anything else if they were forced to keep their heads motionless all their lives?
— And the objects carried along behind the wall—would the same not happen with them?.. If the prisoners were able to converse with one another, do you think they would not believe that they were giving names precisely to what they saw?
And if their dungeon echoed every sound uttered by any passerby, do you think they would attribute those sounds to anything other than the passing shadow?.. Such prisoners would take the shadows of the objects being carried past them as the whole and complete truth...
Now observe their release from the chains of ignorance and their healing from it—in other words, how all this would occur if something of the kind happened to them naturally.
When one of them was freed from his chains and suddenly forced to stand up, turn his neck, walk, and look upward toward the light, he would be in pain as he performed all these actions; he would be unable to look at those things in the bright light whose shadows he had seen before. And what do you think he would say when they began telling him that what he had seen before was trivial, but that now, approaching being and turning toward what was more real, he could gain a correct view? And especially if they pointed to one thing or another passing before him and asked what it was, forcing him to answer as well! Do you not think this would greatly confuse him, and that he would believe there was much more truth in what he had seen before than in what was now being shown to him?...
And if he were forced to look directly at the light itself, would his eyes not hurt, and would he not run back to the things he was capable of seeing, believing that they were truly more reliable than the things being shown to him?...
But if someone dragged him by force up the steep ascent, uphill, and did not let him go until he had brought him out into the sunlight, would he not suffer and resent such violence? And when he came into the light, would not his eyes be so dazzled by its radiance that he could not make out a single one of the objects whose reality he was now being told about... He would need time to grow accustomed, if he was to see all that was above. He should begin with what is easiest: first look at shadows, then at reflections in water of people and various objects, and only afterward at the things themselves; moreover, he would find it easier to see what is in the sky and the sky itself at night rather than by day—that is, to look at the light of the stars and the Moon, rather than at the Sun and its light.
And finally, I think, this man would be able to look upon the Sun itself, in its own place, and observe its nature, without limiting himself to watching its deceptive reflection in water or in other media foreign to it.
And then he would conclude that the Sun governs the seasons and the passage of the years, that it oversees everything in the visible world, and that it is somehow the cause of all that this man and the other prisoners had previously seen in the cave.
Recalling his former dwelling, its wisdom, and his fellow prisoners, would he not consider himself blessed by the change in his condition, and would he not pity his friends?
And if they had bestowed honors and praise on one another there, rewarding the one who had the sharpest sight in observing the objects passing by and remembered best what usually appeared first, what afterward, and what simultaneously, and who on that basis predicted the future, do you think the man who had already been freed from his bonds would still desire all this, or envy those whom the prisoners honored and who wielded influence among them?...
Consider this as well: if such a man went down there again and sat in the same place, would his eyes not be filled with darkness because of this sudden departure from the light of the Sun?.. And if he again had to compete with those perpetual prisoners in interpreting the meaning of the shadows? Until his sight adjusted and his eyes grew accustomed—and that would take considerable time—would he not appear ridiculous? They would say that he had returned from his ascent with damaged eyesight, and therefore that it was not even worth trying to go upward. And if anyone attempted to free the prisoners and lead them upward, would they not kill him if they could get their hands on him?...
So, my dear Glaucon, this comparison must be applied to everything said earlier: the realm revealed by sight resembles the prison dwelling, while the light from the fire within it is likened to the power of the Sun. The ascent and contemplation of things above is the soul's ascent into the realm of the intelligible. If you accept all this, you will understand my cherished thought—if indeed you wish to know it—and God knows whether it is true. This, then, is how it appears to me: in the realm of the knowable, the idea of the Good is the ultimate limit, and it is difficult to discern; but once it is discerned there, one must conclude that it is the cause of everything right and beautiful. In the visible realm it produces light and its ruler, while in the intelligible realm it is itself sovereign, on which truth and understanding depend; and whoever wishes to act consciously in private as well as public life must look toward it.
... do not be surprised that those who have reached all this do not wish to engage in human affairs; their souls are always striving upward. And this is natural, since it corresponds to the picture drawn above... But is it really surprising, in your opinion, if someone who has passed from divine contemplation to human wretchedness looks awkward and seems extremely ridiculous? His sight has not yet grown accustomed to it, and yet before he becomes used to the surrounding darkness, he is made to appear in court or somewhere else and argue about shadows of justice or the images that cast those shadows, having to dispute them in the manner perceived by people who have never seen justice itself.
Anyone who reflects would remember that there are two kinds of disturbances of vision, arising from two causes: either when one passes from light into darkness, or from darkness into light. The same thing happens to the soul: this can be understood by seeing that the soul is confused and unable to make anything out. Instead of laughing senselessly, it is better to observe whether this soul has come from a brighter life and has therefore been darkened through unfamiliarity, or whether, conversely, having passed from utter ignorance to a life of light, it has been blinded by the brilliant radiance. The former condition and life may be considered blessed; the latter deserves our compassion. If, however, someone still finds himself laughing when he looks at it, let him laugh less at it than at the soul that has come down from above, from the light.
Since this is true, this is how we must think about these souls: enlightenment is not at all what certain people claim it to be when they say that there is no knowledge in a person's soul and that they put it into the soul, as though they were putting sight into blind eyes.
Our reasoning shows instead that everyone has this capacity in their soul; the soul also has an instrument that helps each person learn. But just as it is impossible for the eye to turn from darkness to light except together with the whole body, so one must turn away with the whole soul from everything that comes into being; then a person's capacity for knowledge will be able to endure the contemplation of being and of what is brightest in it, which, as we maintain, is the Good. Is that not so?
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