American Journal of Philology

Who, Socrates asks Meletus, improves the young men of Athens? The laws, Meletus replies. But which people, Socrates wants to know, which men? These very dicasts here. All of them, Meletus, or just some? Oh, all of them. Goodness; and what about the audience? Them too? Yes, them too. And the members of the Boule? Certainly. And the men in the Assembly? Yes, them too. In other words, Meletus, what you are saying is that absolutely everyone in Athens improves young men except me. Is that right? Yes, that is exactly right, Meletus replies.

Socrates has succeeded in making a fool of Meletus precisely because the question of “improving” the young (or anyone else) is so problematic. In this wide-ranging study of political thought in classical Athens, Peter Euben locates Greek explorations of the civic community, and how one educates people for it, in the context of contemporary debates over higher education in the United States. Taking as a springboard (and a title) the accusation of corrupting the youth made against Socrates at his trial, Euben seeks to mediate the claims of “canonists,” who advocate a focus on classical texts on the grounds that they instill Values with a capital V, and “multiculturalists,” who are suspicious of such texts, believing them to embody the narrow and bankrupt values of dead white males—dead white slave-holding males at that. His strategy is to stress what he sees as the polyphonal and multivocal nature of the Athenian corpus, emphasizing the impossibility of these revered but disparate texts’ “teaching” any virtue other than that of constant scrutiny of self and other. The texts he examines, moreover—tragedy, comedy, and dialogue—often deal directly with the question of education for democratic citizenship, a project dear to Euben’s heart.

To do this, of course, Euben must demonstrate a pro-democratic agenda in both tragedy and Old Comedy, and here I think he succeeds, although the matter is far from simple; and then there is the question of Socrates/Plato. Readers will probably be persuaded by his arguments in the following order: Sophocles’ Antigone, yes; Aristophanes’ Clouds, maybe; Plato’s Gorgias, very dubious. It is in its discussion of the troubling Gorgias that Euben’s book is most challenging and provocative.

Demonstrating multiple voices in Antigone is not a daunting task. The play works as a pro-democratic statement on many levels, beginning with its very surface. Most simply, Haemon and the chorus appear to embody the voice [End Page 621] of reason against Creon’s rigidity and vulgarity, and Haemon explicitly sides with the chorus against his autocratic father. At a deeper level, however, the polyphony of the play represents what Euben sees as the multivocal nature of democratic debate, as the conflicting claims of law and family are both enacted and articulated on the stage. Here, as elsewhere in the book, he finds the process of deliberation and analysis intrinsically democratic and gives it as least as much weight as the conclusions to which it leads, if not more.

Creon, who rejects discussion and deliberation and associates yielding with unmanliness, seeks to deny the richness and complexity of human life and the human community. If Creon stands for autocracy, does the equally rigid Antigone then represent democracy? It would seem to me that she does not, since the primacy she gives to religious over civic obligations appears to place her in the camp of the female/religious force that Aeschylus rejected in the Oresteia as pre-democratic, replacing it with the patriarchal state of men and civic laws as the Furies are tamed and the rulings of male juries are constituted as the laws of the community. Euben, however, puts forward an interesting argument to the opposite effect: while Creon, he writes, “may regard Antigone as the amorphous anarchic symbol of womanly power, it is worth recalling that conservatives regarded Athenian democracy the same way” (171). (We might...