Plutarch’s "That the Pythia no longer prophesies in verse" - summary Automatic translate

This dialogue, part of the Moralia cycle, was composed around the beginning of the second century AD. The most significant aspect of the work is its attempt to rationally explain the decline of the poetic form of the Delphic prophecies, combining profound religiosity with a philosophical analysis of the nature of inspiration and historical changes in the Hellenic world.

A Conversation on Corinthian Bronze

The conversation begins with Basilocles reproaching Philinus for the long wait. Philinus explains the delay by saying that accompanying his guest, Diogenianus, had sparked numerous arguments along the way. Diogenianus proved himself not only a keen listener but also a thirsty for knowledge, capable of conducting a calm and friendly discussion. The tour of Delphi’s sights began with a discussion of the quality of bronze.

The guest was surprised by the color of the patina on the statues of the navarches: it resembled not rust, but a light sea azure. Diogenianus suggested the presence of a special composition lost by the ancient masters. In response, Theon recounted the popular legend of the accidental creation of Corinthian bronze during a fire where gold, silver, and copper mixed, but immediately dismissed it as fiction.

The assembled turned to the physical causes of the phenomenon. Theon, citing Aristotle, proposed a theory about the interaction of bronze with air and liquids. Oil, due to its density, fixes the patina, while other liquids disperse it. The Delphic air, being both subtle and caustic, penetrates the bronze and draws out its "earthy" patina, which lingers on the surface due to the density of the atmosphere, creating a blooming and lustrous effect.

Criticism of Divine Verses

The tour of the monuments was interrupted by a literary debate. When the guides brought out a poetic oracle, Diogenes expressed bewilderment at the quality of the verses. He found it strange that the god, patron of the Muses and music, uttered prophecies inferior in skill to Hesiod and Homer, allowing for metrical and semantic errors. The poet Serapion attempted to defend the relic, declaring that the god’s verses should be considered the standard, and human poetry a corrupted idiom.

The mathematician and Epicurean Boethus entered the debate. He cited the example of the artist Pauson, who painted a horse running instead of rolling, but corrected the situation by simply turning the painting upside down. Boethus noted that bad poetry is more likely to indicate that it was not composed by a god. If the prophecies are technically imperfect, then responsibility for the form does not lie with the deity.

Serapion countered, arguing that people were accustomed to sweet talk, while truth was often harsh and unadorned. He compared the Pythia to the Sibyl, whose "unscented" words resounded for millennia thanks to divine power, unlike the effeminate songs of fashionable poetesses.

The Nature of Inspiration and Signs

Theon proposed a compromise. God provides only the initial impulse, the movement of the soul, but the wording is up to the prophetess. If oracles were written down, we would not consider the letters themselves divine. Inspiration is a light kindled in the soul to foretell the future, but the voice, the manner of speech, and the meter belong to the mortal priestess.

The procession moved on, discussing omens. Diogenianus and Philinus recalled instances in which statues and objects foreshadowed events: the collapse of Hieron’s column on the day of his death, the sprouting of grass on Lysander’s statue before his death. Boethius, a true Epicurean, ridiculed these observations, attributing them to a random coincidence of atoms and the workings of Fate. In his view, if you wait long enough, any event can coincide with any prediction.

At the Sibyl’s Rock, the debate over the veracity of prophecies flared up again. Boethius dismissed the predictions as random guessing, where successful hits were merely a statistical exercise. Serapion countered with specific examples of complex prophecies that had come true in detail: the lameness of Agesilaus, the emergence of an island from the sea during Philip’s war with the Romans, and the slave revolt. Such coincidences, Serapion argued, could not be explained by mere chance.

Symbols and gifts in the treasuries

The group entered the Corinthian Treasury. Bronze palm trees with frogs and water snakes at their roots caught their attention. The symbolism sparked debate: why were marsh creatures coexisting with the sun god? Serapion saw this as a hint at the sun’s nourishment from water vapor. Theon, however, mocking the Stoic allegories, proposed a simpler explanation: the frogs could symbolize spring and the melting of snow, both of which were under Apollo’s control.

The conversation touched on the history of the treasury itself. It was originally built by the tyrant Cypselus, but after the overthrow of the tyranny, the Corinthians renamed the donation in honor of the city. Delphi agreed to this, which offended the Eleans and led to their exclusion from the Isthmian Games.

Diogenesian was particularly outraged by the iron spits donated by the hetaera Rhodopis. He considered the presence of a harlot’s gifts in a holy place offensive. Theon, however, urged moderation. He pointed out that many of the "noble" gifts in the temple were paid for with blood and plunder during the Greek civil wars. In comparison, the gift of a woman who earned her living with her body did not seem the greatest evil. Theon also told the story of Croesus the Baker, a woman who saved the king from poisoning, whose image also hangs in the temple as a monument to her fidelity.

Instrumental theory of divination

Finally, the travelers sat down near the sanctuary of Gaia, and Diogenes demanded to return to the main question: why had the Pythia stopped speaking in verse? Theon took the floor for a detailed answer. He recalled that even in ancient times, many prophecies were given in prose. The oracles given to the Lacedaemonians about war, to Lycurgus about laws, and to many tyrants were all prose.

Theon’s central argument was the concept of the instrument. The soul of the Pythia is the instrument of God. Like any instrument, it leaves its mark on the result of its work. God uses the Pythia to be heard, just as the sun uses the moon to shine at night. But the moon reflects light differently than the sun emits it.

The modern Pythia is a simple woman from a poor family. She is virtuous, but untrained in the art of poetry. Demanding hexameters from her is as absurd as demanding clear speech from a stutterer or playing the flute as if it were a cithara. God utilizes her natural abilities, not imposing alien skills. Prophecy is a blend of divine impulse and human perception.

Changing eras and the role of poetry

Theon expanded on this idea, pointing to cultural shifts. In ancient times, poetry was a universal language: history, philosophy, and laws were expressed in verse. Music and rhythm helped people remember information. However, over time, people learned to value clarity and simplicity. History and philosophy shifted to prose, separating truth from fiction.

Complex speech, metaphors, and riddles became associated with obscurity. God, responding to changes in human perception, abandoned the poetic form in favor of speaking to people in a more trustworthy language — the language of laws and teachers. Verse oracles became the preserve of charlatans roaming around the temples of the Great Mother, which ultimately discredited poetry in matters of faith.

Political context and simplicity of questions

Political changes were also a significant factor. Ancient prophecies were often addressed to tyrants and generals plotting great and dangerous deeds. Ambiguity and allegory were necessary for the priests to avoid incurring the wrath of powerful men with unpleasant truths and to conceal the meaning from their enemies.

In the current era (the time of Plutarch and his heroes), peace reigns in Greece. There are no wars, no regime changes, no tyranny. The questions people bring to the oracle have become mundane and trivial: whether to marry, whether to set sail, whether the harvest will be good. Answering such questions doesn’t require lofty poetry. Composing verses about buying cattle would be ridiculous posturing.

Protecting the Oracle’s Directness

At the end of the conversation, Theon emphasizes that the abandonment of poetry has benefited the sanctuary’s authority. The Pythia’s clear and direct language, like the shortest straight line in geometry, leads to truth without evasion. The oracle is open to verification, and time confirms the accuracy of its answers.

Delphi flourishes, new buildings are erected, the temple’s wealth grows, which would be impossible without divine patronage. Critics who demand riddles and poems behave like children, captivated by rainbows and external effects but unable to appreciate the essence. Their discontent stems from a misunderstanding of how wisely the deity adapts to changes in the human world: "And yet they should condemn themselves and us for our inability to penetrate the divine plan with reason."