Plotino – Tratado 1,8 (I, 6, 8) — A fuga para o “aqui em baixo”: Ulisses e Narciso

8. Então, qual o modo? Qual a concepção? ¹ Como alguém contemplará uma “beleza inconceptível” ² que, por assim dizer, guarda-se no íntimo dos sacros áditos e não se adianta afora para que mesmo um profano a veja? Avance e adentre quem é capaz ³, deixando do lado de fora a visão dos olhos e sem mais voltar-se para as antigas fulgências dos corpos. Pois, vendo as belezas nos corpos, de modo algum se deve persegui-las, mas, entendendo que são imagens e traços e sombras, fugir para aquilo de que estas são imagens. Pois se alguém as persegue, desejando apanhá-las como algo verdadeiro, acontecerá com ele o mesmo que com aquele que quis apanhar sua bela imagem corrente sobre a água – como me parece enigmar um certo mito por aí – e sumiu abismando-se na profundeza do rio ⁴; do mesmo modo, aquele que se apega à beleza dos corpos e não a abandona se abisma, não com o corpo, mas com a alma, nas profundezas tenebrosas e funestas para o intelecto, onde, permanecendo cego no Hades, conviverá com sombras por toda parte.

“Fujamos para a pátria querida” ⁵, alguém exortaria com maior verdade. Então, que fuga é essa? Como? Navegaremos como Odisseu, diz ele [Homero] – enigmando, [317] penso eu –, que fugiu da feiticeira Circe ou de Calipso ⁶, não contente em permanecer, embora tivesse prazeres para os olhos e se unisse a muita beleza sensível. Nossa pátria é donde viemos e nosso pai está lá. Que jornada e que fuga são essas, portanto? Não devemos perfazê-la com os pés: os pés nos levam a todo lugar, da terra para terra; e não precisas preparar uma carruagem de cavalos ou uma embarcação ⁷, porém deves te afastar de tudo isso e não olhar, mas, como que cerrando os olhos, substituir essa visão e despertar uma outra, que todos têm, mas poucos usam.

8. Mas o que temos de fazer para chegar a isso? Qual é o caminho para alcançá-lo? Como poderemos ver essa beleza imensa que permanece, por assim dizer, no interior do santuário e não se dirige para fora para ser vista pelo profano? Que aquele que pode fazê-lo siga-a até a sua interioridade, abandonando a visão dos olhos, e não se volte para o esplendor dos corpos que admirava antes. Quando vemos as belezas corporais, não devemos correr atrás delas, mas saber que elas são imagens, traços e sombras e portanto devemos fugir em direção àquela beleza da qual elas são uma imagem. Se corremos para apanhar as imagens como se fossem reais, somos semelhantes ao homem que quis apanhar sua bela imagem refletida nas águas, caiu em suas profundezas e desapareceu. O mesmo ocorrerá com quem se prende à beleza dos corpos e não quer abandoná-la, porém, não será a sua alma e não o seu corpo que mergulhará nos tenebrosos abismos e, tanto aqui como no Hades, a sua inteligência viverá apenas com as sombras.

Fujamos então para a nossa querida pátria , eis o melhor conselho que se pode dar. Mas como fugir? Como encontrar o caminho para tornar a subir? Devemos fazer como Ulisses, que, como diz o poeta, fugiu dos feitiços de Circe ou Calipso, não consentindo em ficar junto a elas apesar dos prazeres e de todas as belezas sensíveis que encontrou ali. Nossa pátria é o lugar de onde viemos e nosso Pai está lá.

Como fazer então para fugir e chegar a ela? Não podemos fazer isso com nossos pés, pois nossos passos sempre nos levam de uma terra a outra; tampouco devemos preparar uma carruagem ou um navio. É preciso deixar tudo isso de lado e passar da visão corporal para uma outra visão que todos possuem mas usam.

8 ¿Y cuál es el modo? ¿Cuál es el medio? ¿Cómo va uno a contemplar una «Belleza imponente» que se queda allá dentro, diríamos, en su sanctasanctórum, y no se adelanta al exterior de suerte que pueda uno verla, aunque sea profano?.

Que vaya el que pueda y la acompañe adentro tras dejar fuera la vista de los ojos y sin volverse a los anteriores reverberos de los cuerpos. Porque, al ver las bellezas corpóreas, en modo alguno hay que correr tras ellas, sino, sabiendo que son imágenes y rastros y sombras, huir hacia aquella de la que éstas son imágenes. Porque si alguien corriera en pos de ellas queriendo atraparlas como cosa real, le pasará como al que quiso atrapar una imagen bella que bogaba sobre el agua, como con misterioso sentido, a mi entender, relata cierto mito: que se hundió en lo profundo de la corriente y desapareció. De ese mismo modo, el que se aferré a los cuerpos bellos y no los suelte, se anegará no en cuerpo, sino en alma, en las profundidades tenebrosas y desapacibles para el espíritu, donde, permaneciendo ciego en el Hades, estará acá y allá en compañía de las sombras. «Huyamos, pues, a la patria querida», podría exhortarnos alguien con mayor verdad».

¿Y qué huida es ésa? ¿Y cómo es?

Zarparemos como cuenta el poeta (con enigmática expresión, creo yo) que lo hizo Ulises abandonando a la maga Circe o a Calipso, disgustado de haberse quedado pese a los placeres de que disfrutaba a través de la vista y a la gran belleza sensible con que se unía. Pues bien, la patria nuestra es aquella de la que partimos, y nuestro Padre está allá.

¿Y qué viaje es ése? ¿Qué huida es ésa?

No hay que realizarla a pie: los pies nos llevan siempre de una tierra a otra. Tampoco debes aprestarte un carruaje de caballos o una embarcación, sino que debes prescindir de todos esos medios y no poner la mirada en ellos, antes bien, como cerrando los ojos, debes trocar esta vista por otra y despertar la que todos tienen pero pocos usan.

8. Quel est donc ce mode de vision ? Quel en est le moyen ? Comment verra-t-on cette beauté immense qui reste en quelque sorte à l’intérieur des sanctuaires et qui ne s’avance pas au dehors pour se faire voir des profanes ? Que celui qui le peut aille donc et la suive jusque dans son intimité ; qu’il abandonne la vision des yeux et ne se retourne pas vers l’éclat des corps qu’il admirait avant. Car si on voit les beautés corporelles, il ne faut pas courir à elles, mais savoir qu’elles sont des images, des traces et de sombres ; il faut s’enfuir vers cette beauté dont elles sont les images. Si on courait à elles pour les saisir comme si elles étaient réelles, on serait comme l’homme qui voulut saisir sa belle image portée sur les eaux (ainsi qu’une fable, je crois, le fait entendre) ; ayant plongé dans le profond courant, il disparut ; il en est de même de celui qui s’attache à la beauté des corps et ne l’abandonne pas ; ce n’est pas son corps, mais son âme qui plongera dans des profondeurs obscures et funestes à l’intelligence, il y vivra avec des ombres, aveugle séjournant dans l’Hadès. Enfuyons-nous donc dans notre chère patrie, voilà le vrai conseil qu’on pourrait nous donner. Mais qu’est cette fuite ? Comment remonter ? Comme Ulysse, qui échappa, dit-on à Circé la magicienne et à Calypso, c’est-à-dire qui ne consentit pas à rester près d’elles, malgré les plaisirs des yeux et toutes les beautés sensibles qu’il y trouvait. Notre patrie est le lieu d’où nous venons, et note père est là-bas. Que sont donc ce voyage et cette fuite ? Ce n’est pas avec nos pieds qu’il faut l’accomplir ; car nos pas nous portent toujours d’une terre à une autre ; il ne faut pas non plus préparer un attelage ni quelque navire, mais il faut cesser de regarder et, fermant les yeux, échanger cette manière de voir pour une autre, et réveiller cette faculté que tout le monde possède, mais dont peu font usage.

THE METHOD TO ACHIEVE ECSTASY IS TO CLOSE THE EYES OF THE BODY.

8. How shall we start, and later arrive at the contemplation of this ineffable beauty which, like the divinity in the mysteries, remains hidden in the recesses of a sanctuary, and does not show itself outside, where it might be perceived by the profane ? We must advance into this sanctuary, penetrating into it, if we have the strength to do so, closing our eyes to the spectacle of terrestrial things, without throwing a backward glance on the bodies whose graces formerly charmed us. If we do still see corporeal beauties, we must no longer rush at them, but, knowing that they are only images, traces and adumbrations of a superior principle, we will flee from them, to approach Him of whom they are merely the reflections. Whoever would let himself be misled by the pursuit of those vain shadows, mistaking them for realities, would grasp only an image as fugitive as the fluctuating form reflected by the waters, and would resemble that senseless (Narcissus) who, wishing to grasp that image himself, according to the fable, disappeared, carried away by the current. Likewise he would wish to embrace corporeal beauties, and not release them, would plunge, not his body, but his soul into the gloomy abysses, so repugnant to intelligence; he would be condemned to total blindness; and on this earth, as well as in hell, he would see naught but mendacious shades.

HOW TO FLY TO OUR FATHERLAND.

This indeed is the occasion to quote (from Homer) with peculiar force, “Let us fly unto our dear fatherland!” But how shall we fly? How escape from here? is the question Ulysses asks himself in that allegory which represents him trying to escape from the magic sway of Circe or Calypso, where neither the pleasure of the eyes, nor the view of fleshly beauty were able to hold him in those enchanted places. Our fatherland is the region whence we descend here below. C It is there that dwells our Father. But how shall we return thither? What means shall be employed to return us thither ? Not our feet, indeed; all they could do would be to move us from one place of the earth to another. Neither is it a chariot, nor ship which need be prepared. All these vain helps must be left aside, and not even considered. We must close the eyes of the body, to open another vision, which indeed all possess, but very few employ.

8. But what must we do? How lies the path? How come to vision of the inaccessible Beauty, dwelling as if in consecrated precincts, apart from the common ways where all may see, even the profane?

He that has the strength, let him arise and withdraw into himself, foregoing all that is known by the eyes, turning away for ever from the material beauty that once made his joy. When he perceives those shapes of grace that show in body, let him not pursue: he must know them for copies, vestiges, shadows, and hasten away towards That they tell of. For if anyone follow what is like a beautiful shape playing over water- is there not a myth telling in symbol of such a dupe, how he sank into the depths of the current and was swept away to nothingness? So too, one that is held by material beauty and will not break free shall be precipitated, not in body but in Soul, down to the dark depths loathed of the Intellective-Being, where, blind even in the Lower-World, he shall have commerce only with shadows, there as here.

“Let us flee then to the beloved Fatherland”: this is the soundest counsel. But what is this flight? How are we to gain the open sea? For Odysseus is surely a parable to us when he commands the flight from the sorceries of Circe or Calypso- not content to linger for all the pleasure offered to his eyes and all the delight of sense filling his days.

The Fatherland to us is There whence we have come, and There is The Father.

What then is our course, what the manner of our flight? This is not a journey for the feet; the feet bring us only from land to land; nor need you think of coach or ship to carry you away; all this order of things you must set aside and refuse to see: you must close the eyes and call instead upon another vision which is to be waked within you, a vision, the birth-right of all, which few turn to use.

VIII. What measures, then, shall we adopt? What machine employ, or what reason consult, by means of which we may contemplate this ineffable beauty: a beauty abiding in the most divine sanctuary, without ever proceeding from its sacred retreats, lest it should be beheld by the profane and vulgar eye? We must enter deep into ourselves, and, leaving behind the objects of corporeal sight, no longer look back after any of the accustomed spectacles of sense. For, it is necessary that whoever beholds this beauty, should withdraw his view from the fairest corporeal forms; and, convinced that these are nothing more than images, vestiges, and shadows of beauty, should eagerly soar to the fair original from which they are derived. For he who rushes to these lower beauties, as if grasping realities, when they are only like beautiful images appearing in water, will, doubtless, like him in the fable, by stretching after the shadow, sink into the lake, and disappear. For, by thus embracing and adhering to corporeal forms, he is precipitated, not so much in his body, as in his soul, into profound and horrid darkness; and thus blind, like those in the infernal regions, converses only with phantoms, deprived of the perception of what is real and true. It is here, then, we may more truly exclaim “Let us depart from hence, and fly to our father’s delightful land.” ⁸ But, by what leading stars shall we direct our flight, and by what means avoid the magic power of Circe, and the detaining charms of Calypso? For thus the fable of Ulysses obscurely signifies, which feigns him abiding an unwilling exile, though pleasant spectacles were continually presented to his sight; and every thing was promised to invite his stay which can delight the senses, and captivate the heart. But our true country, like that of Ulysses, is from whence we came, and where our father lives. But where is the ship to be found, by which we can accomplish our flight? For our feet are unequal to the task, since they only take us from one part of the earth to another. May we not each of us say,

What ships have I, what sailors to convey
What oars to cut the long laborious way? ⁹

But it is in vain that we prepare horses to draw, or ships to transport us to our native land. On the contrary, neglecting all these, as unequal to the task, and excluding them entirely from our view, having now closed the corporeal eye, we must stir up, and assume a purer eye within, which all men possess, but which is alone used by the few.