Life

Beyond the Veil: Mortality and the Philosopher’s Quest

In “The Scholars,” there exists a renowned narrative: As Yan Jiansheng approached his final moments, he extended his index and middle fingers, signifying a reluctance to pass. Speculations abounded amongst the onlookers, yet consensus eluded them. Only his consort, Mrs. Zhao, discerned his apprehension regarding the consumption of two lamp grasses, thus hastening to remove one. True to her intuition, Yan Jiansheng acknowledged the gesture, relinquished his resistance, and promptly departed this realm.

Curiously, this vignette evoked recollections of a scene preceding Socrates’ demise. In Plato’s “Phaedo,” it is recounted how Socrates, under the duress of impending death, imbibed the fatal hemlock in his cell, reclining as he awaited the inevitable. In the waning moments, he lifted the veil obscuring his visage, addressing the solitary custodian with poignant finality. A devoted disciple, bearing witness, later relayed Socrates’ parting words: “Crito, I owe a debt to Asclepius; remember to discharge it.” These utterances stood as the philosopher’s parting salvo. Despite the presence of over a dozen witnesses, akin to Mrs. Zhao’s intuitive grasp of Yan Jiansheng’s cryptic gesture, none comprehended the import of Socrates’ enigmatic pronouncement.

On his final day, Socrates adhered to his customary routine, imparting wisdom with characteristic zeal. Engaging in philosophical discourse, his preoccupation centered on the specter of mortality. Chronicled in “Phaedo,” his exchanges on this somber occasion, conveyed through the narration of Phaedo, extended from dawn till dusk. Repeatedly, he expounded upon the philosopher’s defiance of death, elucidating the soul’s liberation from corporeal confines as the crux of philosophical pursuit.

Should an individual devote themselves to the cultivation of intellectual virtue, eschewing worldly pleasures in favor of spiritual enrichment, their soul becomes primed for transcendence. This metaphysical journey epitomizes authentic philosophical praxis, often termed as the “preparation for death.”

Implicit in this discourse lies the presupposition of soul’s immortality, a conviction ardently held by Socrates. Whereas the swan’s final song may evoke pathos in the layman’s eye, Socrates imbued it with a transcendent significance, interpreting it as an ode to the anticipation of a paradisiacal afterlife. However, amidst the poetic grandeur, he conceded the speculative nature of soul’s eternal existence, deeming it a belief worthy of existential gamble.

Indeed, the enigma of death eludes mortal comprehension. I contend that the essence of philosophy lies not solely in the affirmation of soul’s immortality, but rather in the elevation of spiritual life as the ultimate ontological imperative, irrespective of its eternal verity. Embracing a detached stance towards transient terrestrial pursuits exemplifies the philosopher’s ethos.

Yan Jiansheng’s gesture, extending two fingers in his final moments, elicited varied interpretations. Some conjectured fiscal concerns, others speculated upon familial inheritance. Yet, the truth unveiled revealed a parsimony bordering on the ludicrous. However, is it not equally absurd to cling to worldly possessions on the cusp of mortality? Those who remain ensnared by earthly vanities, be it inheritance or funeral arrangements, mirror Yan Jiansheng’s folly albeit on a grander scale.

Conversely, Socrates exuded serenity in the face of mortality. When queried about funeral arrangements and progeny, his response was singular: a plea for Crito’s introspection and prudent living. His indifference towards posthumous rites underscores the conviction that only the incorporeal essence defines Socrates; the mortal remains hold no relevance.

Now, what shall we make of Socrates’ cryptic parting words? Asclepius, the deity of healing in Greek mythology, invoked by Socrates, the fervent ascetic, appears as a paradoxical invocation. Does it not, perhaps, constitute a satire? Nietzsche’s conjecture, portraying life as malaise, prompts introspection into Socrates’ philosophical disposition. I venture to ponder whether latent pessimism lurks within the recesses of all detached philosophers’ minds. Could this suspicion find validation in Socrates’ final utterance?

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