BOOK REVIEW

Stephen C. Lovatt. New Skins for Old Wine: Plato’s Wisdom for Today’s World (Boca Raton: Universal Publishers 2007). Paperback, 468 pages. ISBN: 158112960-2.

Reviewed by Edward Moore, S.T.L., Ph.D. (patristics@gmail.com)

Word count: 1660 words

Since Stephen C. Lovatt’s [hereafter SL] book is an extended personal essay rather than an academic monograph, I shall proceed with this review in a personal manner. Applying the wisdom of Plato to today’s world is something that has informed my own work in academia. As a Christian, I have – through Church Fathers such as Origen, St. Gregory of Nyssa, and St. Maximus the Confessor – found a place for Platonic philosophy in my spiritual life. SL and I, then, begin from a shared notion that Plato(nism) can help center and maintain our Christian faith.

So allow me to begin with a brief description of SL’s book; after which I shall voice some minor criticisms; and finally, end with my reasons for recommending this book to progressively-minded readers. New Skins for Old Wine ranges widely over vast territory: from Plato himself, to Karl Popper, Dungeons & Dragons, Greek and Latin Church Fathers, modern popes, and J.R.R. Tolkien – to name but a few of SL’s sources. The book reads as a series of personal reflections, not necessarily disconnected, but certainly not systematic in their presentation. One will easily be reminded of Nietzsche (not in content, I hasten to add, but in method); for SL writes as he thinks, with a thoughtful approach to each topic, yet one which dispenses with lengthy explanations. In short, the reader is expected to follows SL’s train of thought over the course of many pages and many ideas. SL’s book is not a series of aphorisms, but it comes close. Not a bad thing, in my opinion.

As a Catholic, SL adheres to the following explanation for his faith:

The traditional Catholic view is that faith and reason are mutually supportive. … Starting from this conviction, the Apostles Paul and John began the process of synthesizing Platonic philosophy with the initially Jewish Gospel. This work was continued by their disciples: Irenaeus, Origen, Augustine, and others. Later, Aquinas endeavoured to produce a synthesis of Catholicism with Aristotelianism.” (56)

This notion of the underlying rationality of Christianity is a key theme in SL’s text; he does not shy away from applying philosophy – ancient and modern – to the explication of the Christian faith. Platonism, however, is his keystone. It is not, however, a keystone holding together a vast edifice, but rather an anchor keeping SL’s thought grounded in a series of principles, much like what one finds in Platonic dialogues. As SL dialogues with himself – and occasionally with correspondents (quoted throughout the book) – these principles become ever more apparent. I shall list just a few.

The theory of ideas or forms (Greek: idea), understood as eternal sources of all things labeled ‘true’ in this world, is accepted by SL, who, on page 19 of his book quotes Plato’s Republic 6.507b as support. Yet SL admits, invoking Heraclitus, that any existing thing participating in this reality does itself change, even though its source is changeless (20). The classic Platonic suspicion of the veracity of sense-perception is addressed by SL’s appeal to Objective Realism (128): a philosophical position which holds that perceived reality is the object of our knowledge, but that said ‘reality’ would continue to exist even if no observers were around to witness it. In a Christian context, where the ground of truth is not a collection of eternally existent, abstract ideas, but a person – Jesus Christ – one may be reminded of the passage in Hebrews 13:8, which states that Christ is “the same yesterday, and today, and forever.” (KJV)

An example of SL’s admirable Platonism is on page 299, when he asks the question: “Which comes first: Good or God?” In Platonic philosophy, the Good is sometimes identified with the highest principle, the One, or, in some cases, with Beauty, the highest intelligible principle – i.e., the highest principle to which souls can attain through knowledge [as Proclus states, this is the paradigmatic virtue, attainable only by divinized souls = gods]. Neoplatonic hairsplitting aside, the basic Platonist view is that the Good is the source of all existence, and the source to which all existing beings shall return; or, to borrow St. Paul’s quotation of a ‘pagan’ poet, that in which we “live, and move, and have our being” (Acts 17:28 KJV). It cannot be said, of course, that the Good precedes God, or vice-versa; for God is the source of Good, and Goodness is the human word used to define – as far as possible – the essence of God.

Daringly, SL also delves into the deep waters of Plato’s politics (see, especially, p. 393, “The case against Plato”), drawing upon Karl Popper’s criticisms. Indeed, the Republic and to a much lesser degree the Laws advocate a form of communism not quite amenable to modern Anglo-American sensibilities. Yet much work has been done in recent years on this very topic, by Plato experts such as Malcolm Schofield and Julia Annas (to name just two) who give strikingly non-Popperian expositions of the Laws and show us that Plato’s political ideas were far more nuanced than Popper allowed. The basis of a successful state, essentially, is life-long education. Such is Plato’s ideal. The life of the intellect must hold sway – not the life of the loins. In the United States, especially, obsession with children is at a fever pitch: everyone wants children, and takes great pride in the fact that their copulative act results in yet another human being. As SL so elegantly puts it: “When parents seek for personal meaning in terms of their children, they try to supplement their own worth with that of their offspring” (71). Plato’s perhaps ill-advised attempts to control family life were, in my view, an atttempt to curb the parents’ natural desire to view their children as pathways to immortality. One must love oneself before loving another. SL makes this point in an admirably concise way. I just hope that people listen to it.

SL covers much more territory, and I do not have the space in this brief review to do justice to all of his (mostly) excellent observations. So now I come to the unpleasant task of criticism. Thankfully, I do not have much to criticize.

The citations in New Skins for Old Wine: Plato’s Wisdom for Today’s World are irregular and often incomplete. One example among many is the reference to William Blake’s “The Marriage of Heaven and Hell.” The citation, in the bibliography (444) simply reads “p. 42ff in ‘Poems and Prophecies’ (1975).” This poem is readily availabe online (http://www.bibliomania.com/0/2/81/197/frameset.html); and given the fact that SL regulary cites online sources, one would expect an easily accessible URL for Blake’s poem – as well as for other public domain sources that SL cites.

SL’s use of the Revised Standard Version (RSV) of the Bible is a tad anachronistic. I would have preferred the New King James Version (NKJV) which more accurately reflects contemporary English usage, or the classic King James Version (KJV) which is the most commonly quoted translation. Similarly, the virtual absence of Greek terms from Plato or the New Testament diminishes the book’s usefulness for those beginners seeking knowledge of the terminology of Plato and other ancient writers.

So much for my technical criticisms. On a personal note, I take issue with some of SL’s pronouncements regarding Dungeons & Dragons, a game that I have played for many years. His conclusion (219) that in D&D “all alignments are equally valid,” does not bear out in my experience. This is, I admit, the argument of a gaming geek (myself). A chaotic evil character simply does not receive the respect and admiration of a lawful good character in the game. Most Dungeon Masters will not allow a chaotic evil character to receive blessings at certain temples, or to get reduced rates at inns, and the like. As I write this, I feel a breath of fresh air, despite my geeky objections. I mean, sheesh!, how many authors working on Plato have used D&D as a source of reflection and example. Awesome! My hat goes off to SL.

One more thing. His statement that Lord Foul, in Stephen R. Donaldon’s classic fantasy novel Lord Foul’s Bane (The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever: Book One), “simply despises the world,” and that such explanations for foul behavior amounts, in fiction, to “lazy writing,” (219) is a conclusion with which I simply cannot agree. The majestic, crystalline and subtly Christian beauty of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings resides in the fact that his heroes are persons, and the villain (Sauron) a faceless enemy. Those who experience evil are often unable to put a face to it. The lack of explanation for evil acts – far from reducing the power of a fictional work – enhances the impact of the work, and aids in the generation of its message. H.P. Lovecraft, for example, in one of his most chilling tales, “The Hound,” gives us no reason to like or dislike the main characters (they were a bit deranged, but not ‘evil’). But their fate was as random as that of any of us. Such is life – and sadly, life reflects art.

As my reader can clearly see, my criticisms of SL’s book amounts more to a conversation with a kindred spirit (if I may say so) than an academic dispute. SL strikes me as the kind of fellow I’d like to hang out with and talk philosophy (or any subject) over fish and chips and a pint of Guiness. His writing is – to quote one of my old professors from Middlesex College, Dr. Gaffigan (if you’re out there, drop me a line) – “crisp, crackling, and biting as a winter breeze.” The union of compelling ideas and good writing is in short supply these days. Stephen C. Lovatt’s book is a refreshing reminder that some people still think … and write remarkably well.