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had succeeded in freeing himself from the weight of the earth only a few years previously. The Montgolfier brothers had carried out their first flight on November 2 1 , 1 783. Goethe had been deeply impressed by this event, and in an entirely unexpected way, this experience helped him to understand Homeric poetry.
Besides the events they narrate, the Homeric epics show us the whole world from the point of view of the gods, who look down upon mankind's battles and passions from the heights of the heavens or the mountaintops, without, however, being able to resist the temptation of intervening from time to time on behalf of one or the other contending parties. For example, in the fifth book of the Iliad, we speed through the space between heaven and earth together with the steeds of Hera:
The horses winged their way unreluctant
through the space between the earth and the starry heaven.
As far as into the hazing distance a man can see with his eyes, who sits in his eyrie gazing on the wine-blue water, as far as this is the stride of the gods' proud neighing horses.3
At the beginning of book 13, we adopt the point of view of Zeus, and observe along with him the lands of the Thracians, the Mysians, and other such peoples, while elsewhere, sitting with Poseidon high on the loftiest peak of the green-wooded island of Samothrace, we gaze at the battle and the clamor of arms before the walls of Troy.
For Goethe, the reason Homeric poetry can raise us above all earthly things, and allow us to observe them from the point of view of the gods, is because it represents the paradigm of true poetry. As Goethe puts it in Poetry and Truth:
True poetry can be recognized by the fact that, like a secular Gospel, through the inner cheerfulness and outward pleasure it procures us, it can free us from the mundane burdens which weigh upon us. Like a hot-air balloon, it lifts us up into higher regions, along with the ballast that clings to us, and lets us see, from a bird's-eye view, the mad labyrinths of the world spread out before us. 4
In the last sentence, Goethe has in mind not only the view from above of the Homeric gods, but also the wings which Daedalus fashioned, in order to free himself from the Labyrinth in which Minos had imprisoned him. We shall later see in more detail why it is that, in Goethe's view, poetry has such an astonishing power.
The int imntcly connected themes of the bird's-eye view and flight of the soul hll\'l' n Ionic, complex history. Before we go on to examine the moral and
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Themes
existential meaning attributed to them, first by ancient philosophy, and then by Goethe, it may be useful to attempt to classify the various forms in which they appear. Since our discussion will be concerned only with philosophical and literary texts, we can leave aside the question of the real or ostensible Shamanic origin of these themes. s
First of all, we should emphasize that ancient philosophy and literature do not seem to have linked the theme of the flight of the soul with the ability to fly; that is, with the mere sensory experience of flight. Rather, it went hand in hand with a specific conception of the power of thought and the divine nature of the soul, which is able to raise itself above the categories of space and time. We cannot consider this power as a natural capacity of the human soul qua inhabitant of the terrestrial regions, nor it is a supernatural phenomenon. With regard to the first point, it is only natural that thought or the thinking soul can transport itself rapidly, even instantaneously, to wherever the object of thought happens to be. Already in the seventh book of the Odyssey,6 the swiftness of ships is compared with that of wings and of thought, while Xenophon, in his MemfJrabilia, remarks that the thought of the soul, just like the divine thought, can instantarieously transport itself to Egypt or to Sicily.7 This idea was frequently taken up by Philo of Alexandria, who used it to illustrate the themes of the immortality of the soul, the greatness of man, and his likeness to God."
According to another conception, however, the flight of the soul did not consist in the mere experience of thinking, which is in a sense a banal, everyday phenomenon. Rather, it was something that could only be experienced under extraordinary circumstances: in particular, it came about as a consequence of the separation of the soul from the body.
Here we recognize the doctrine of Plato: according to the myth of the Phaedrus,9 the soul is provided with wings by nature. Prior to its incarnation in a terrestrial body, the soul is thus able to rise up to the outermost limits of the heavens, and follow the procession of the winged chariots of the gods.
If, however, the soul proves itself to be too weak for celestial existence, it loses its wings and falls into a body. The soul can only win back its wings when it separates itself from the body; in other words, after death. When Cicero in the Tuscula11 Disputations,111 or Seneca in his Consolation to Marcia,1 1 speak of the soul's post-mortem existence, they describe how souls discover the secrets of nature and look down on the earth from above. Plato, however, would above all have underlined the fact that, during its celestial journeys, the soul can contemplate the supracelestial world of eternal forms, as it did in its previous life, before its fall into the corporeal world.
Shortly before death, the soul already begins to feel the effects of its imminent separation from the body; hence it is able to journey into the beyond. In the tenth book of the Rep11Mit', Plato tells 1 he !ltory of Er t he Pnmphylian, who w1111 leli for dead on tht• h111tlclidd, 11nd whu11t• 1111ul w11s
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temporarily separated from his body. When Proclus discusses this passage in his Commentary on Plato s Republic, 12 he reports a number of similar stories, about Aristeas of Proconnesus, Hermodorus of Clazomenae, and Epimenides of Crete. Democritus also seems to have made a collection of such stories, 13 and Clearchus of Soloi, a pupil of Aristotle, told the tale of the psychic flight of a certain Oeonymus of Athens, whose soul had risen high up above the earth, and from there had had glimpses of completely unknown regions of the earth.14
Plutarch, in his essay On the Delays of Divine Vengeance, recounts the experiences of a certain Thespesius of Soloi, who had also been left for dead: He saw nothing like what he had seen before: the stars were enormously large, and immeasurably far from one another, and they shone forth with a light of great force and marvelous colours, so that the soul, gently and lightly transported by this light like a ship on a calm sea, could quickly move to wherever it wished. 15
In the view of the ancients, even the most insignificant dream was a separation of soul from body, in the course of which the soul could rise up to celestial heights. We need only think of the example of Cicero's Dream of Scipio.16
The separation of soul from body can also occur by purely spiritual means.
This spiritual "death to the body" was carried out by means of philosophy, for according to Plato, philosophy is nothing but training for death: Shall we not say that purification occurs . . . when man separates the soul as much as possible from the body, and accustoms it to gather itself together from every part of the body and concentrate itself until it is completely independent, and to have its dwelling, so far as it can, both now and in the future, alone and by itself, freed from the shackles of the body?17