A shadow of reflected form

Plotinus on the myth of Narcissus

I. Echo and Narcissus 

The spiritual ascent of man can best be described as a series of mistakes. A series of mis-identifications; thinking we are this, thinking we are that, until we realize that we are nothing of any of these things. And he who never reaches journey’s end, is he who remains stuck somewhere along the way, identified with what is not truly him. Stuck in an image, never breaking through to reality. 

An illustration of such failure is given by the myth of Narcissus, the young man who died staring at his own reflection in a pool. 

The most known version of this myth is given to us by Ovid in the Metamorphoses. Narcissus was a beautiful young man, desired by many, but himself too proud to be affected by anyone but himself. When he was born, his mother went to a seer, with the question whether Narcissus would live a long and healthy life. The seer replied: “If he does not discover himself.” 

One day, Narcissus was out hunting in the woods, when the nymph Echo caught sight of him, she was immediately attracted to Narcissus and started following him. Echo was a peculiar Nymph, having lost the majority of her power of speech. Once Echo made use of lengthy speech to deceive the goddess Hera. Enraged by this fact, Hera made it so that Echo could only repeat the last part of a sentence that someone else said, but could no longer initiate speech herself.

Echo - Alexandre Cabanel, 1887

Now, Echo was after Narcissus, and she desired nothing more than to call out to this young boy she desired so much. But she couldn’t. At one point, Narcissus thought he heard someone following him, and he called out: “‘Is anyone here?”, and Echo replied: “Here.” I will let Ovid tell you what happened next: 

“He is astonished, and glances everywhere, and shouts in a loud voice ‘Come to me!’ She calls as he calls. He looks back, and no one appearing behind, asks ‘Why do you run from me?’ and receives the same words as he speaks. He stands still, and deceived by the likeness to an answering voice, says ‘Here, let us meet together’. And, never answering to another sound more gladly, Echo replies ‘Together’, and to assist her words comes out of the woods to put her arms around his neck, in longing. He runs from her, and running cries ‘Away with these encircling hands! May I die before what’s mine is yours. She answers, only ‘What’s mine is yours!’

    Scorned, she wanders in the woods and hides her face in shame among the leaves, and from that time on lives in lonely caves. But still her love endures, increased by the sadness of rejection. Her sleepless thoughts waste her sad form, and her body’s strength vanishes into the air. Only her bones and the sound of her voice are left. Her voice remains, her bones, they say, were changed to shapes of stone. She hides in the woods, no longer to be seen on the hills, but to be heard by everyone. It is sound that lives in her.”

(Ovid, Metamorphoses, III, 359-401)

And so they went their separate ways, but the goddess Nemesis had taken notice of Narcissus’ behaviour. And being the goddess of retribution, she decided to give Narcissus what he deserved. 

Narcissus, now tired from the hunt and seeking for a place to rest, came upon a little pool with crystal-clear water. He sat down to drink from the water. But as he was about to quench his thirst, he was grasped by a different thirst… 

“He is seized by the vision of his reflected form. He loves a bodiless dream. He thinks that a body, that is only a shadow. He is astonished by himself, and hangs there motionless, with a fixed expression, like a statue carved from Parian marble.

    Flat on the ground, he contemplates two stars, his eyes, and his hair, fit for Bacchus, fit for Apollo, his youthful cheeks and ivory neck, the beauty of his face, the rose-flush mingled in the whiteness of snow, admiring everything for which he is himself admired. Unknowingly he desires himself, and the one who praises is himself praised, and, while he courts, is courted, so that, equally, he inflames and burns. How often he gave his lips in vain to the deceptive pool, how often, trying to embrace the neck he could see, he plunged his arms into the water, but could not catch himself within them! What he has seen he does not understand, but what he sees he is on fire for, and the same error both seduces and deceives his eyes.”

(Ovid, Metamorphoses, III, 402-436). 

Echo and Narcissus - John William Waterhouse, 1903

Here, Narcissus falls in love with his own image. In fact, he falls in love with his reflected form so badly, that he cannot take his eyes away from it. But slowly, Narcissus is torn apart from the inside out. He wants to get even closer to his image. But every time he grasps for it, his hands create ripples in the water, and he is gripped with fear that he has lost his beloved image. Narcissus becomes filled with sadness that he cannot be united with the object of his love. He cries, and his tears stir the water. Again, the image becomes obscured by the ripples in the water, created by his own sadness. “Where do you fly to?” Narcissus cries out.

Tormented by the love for his own image, Narcissus becomes worn down, and he eventually dies right there by the water, filled with nothing but the pain of his love for his own image. He is melted away by his own passion, and dies a slow death. Eventually, his body rots away in the grass, and transforms into a white and golden flower. 

This myth of Narcissus is generally used to illustrate the dangers of excessive self-love, and hence we derive our word ‘narcissism’ from the boy who, enamoured by his own image, stared himself to death. But self-love is not Narcissus’ problem, his problem is rather that he doesn’t love himself, but loves an image of himself instead. 

In Ovid it is said:

“Fool, why try to catch a fleeting image, in vain? What you search for is nowhere: turning away, what you love is lost! What you perceive is the shadow of reflected form: nothing of you is in it.”

(Ovid, Metamorphoses, III, 402-436) 

What he loves is not himself, but only a shadow. Nothing of him is in it. This is then Narcissus’ mistake: that he mistakes his image for himself, and that he loves this image, instead of himself. 

II. Plotinus on Narcissus 

In Ennead I.6, ‘On Beauty’, Plotinus reminds us of the myth of Narcissus, and gives us the tools to interpret this myth. In this treatise, Plotinus speaks about beauty. What do we call beautiful? We call many things beautiful that we see with our eyes, a beautiful person, or a beautiful painting. And we call beautiful the things we hear, the sound of a bird, or the feeling of a melody in our ears.  But we also call beautiful those things that have little to do with the pleasures of the senses; practices, actions, habits, scientific understanding, and the display of virtue. We call all these different things beautiful, but what is it then, Plotinus asks, that is common to all these things that makes them beautiful? What is this ‘beautiful’, that we attribute to all these different things. There is beauty present both in a song, and in scientific understanding. In both of these, we recognize beauty. Both the song and the understanding participate in beauty, and it is this participation that we recognize in calling the song or the understanding beautiful.

But if we are able to recognize beauty in all the different things we see, then this must mean that we were already in possession of the beautiful as such. We already had some knowledge of beauty as such, and the beautiful things we see only make us aware of this. Plotinus will thus say that there is a power of beauty in the soul that corresponds to the many beautiful things we see in the world, and that allows for their recognition as beautiful. In seeing beautiful things, we recognize this power of our soul, and this makes us call them beautiful. What is this power? This power is nothing but the essence of ourselves, our soul. And in seeing beauty in the world, through a person or an artwork for example, we find these things beautiful precisely because we recognize our essence in them. These things remind us of ourselves, they bring us closer to our selves, and this is what makes them beautiful. For there is nothing more beautiful than the essence of ourselves, which consists of nothing but beauty as such. And for Plotinus, nothing is more worthy of praise and love, than our own soul.

What Plotinus wants us to understand is that when we see a beautiful person or a beautiful artwork, what we really value in these things is not the artwork or the person as such, but the presence of soul. And we know soul because we ourselves are a soul, and thus we are able to recognize soul in the many things we see. In this manner, the beautiful things outside of us remind us of ourselves, and are able to bring us closer to ourselves. These things express our soul, and the more they do so, the more they are to be called beautiful. This soul of us has nothing to do with the senses or with the discursive knowledge with which we might gain scientific understanding, rather, it is that with which we see all these things. It is not seen, but that which sees. Before we see a beautiful body, we are aware of ourselves seeing. And before we understand a logical argument, we are aware of ourselves understanding. Before we can see with our eyes, hear with our eyes, feel with our skin, or understand with our understanding, we must already be in possession of a power of seeing, hearing, feeling, understanding, etc. This power of vision, that is present before anything particular is seen through the many faculties we posses (seeing, feeling, hearing, understanding, etc.), is our soul. 

Plotinus seeks to explain that all the beauty in the world, of our bodies, of the artworks that we create, and of the natural world, is only an image of the true beauty that exists within —the beauty of soul. And these things we see, they only exist to remind us of the beauty that exists in our deepest essence. In Plotinus’ philosophy of beauty, there is also a teaching of direction. A beautiful body should not be valued for itself, but because it acts as a stepping stone to recognizing true beauty. And artworks should not be made beautiful so that we can look at them endlessly, investigating every little detail of their material constitution, but so that we can be made to remember that which is truly beautiful —the greatness of soul. For in fact, those that do not use the beautiful things in the world as a stepping stone to turn inwards, are those who actually turn away from what is truly beautiful. They focus only on the beautiful things that they can see with their senses, and becoming so enamoured, lose themselves in these sights, eventually becoming more and more distanced from themselves.

A beautiful artwork can do two things, it can express beauty and thus remind us of true beauty, or it can express beauty and thus drag our attention away from true beauty. If the latter is the case, the soul actually becomes ugly, because it loses touch with the beauty that is its actual essence. Plotinus explains: 

“This is indeed what I regard as an impure soul, dragged in every direction by its chains towards wherever it happens to perceive with its senses, with much of what belongs to the body adulterating it, deeply implicating itself with the material element and, taking that element into itself due to that adulteration that only makes it worse, it exchanges the form it has for another. It is as if someone fell into mud or slime and the beauty he had is no longer evident, whereas what is seen is what he smeared on himself from the mud or slime. The ugliness that has actually been added to him has come from an alien source, and his job, if indeed he is again to be beautiful, is to wash it off and to be clean as he was before.”

(Plotinus, I.6.5)

Looking outwards at the world, at the many material things that we see, we become so enamoured, that we lose sight of true beauty,  which is nothing but our own deepest essence. This true beauty —soul—, can not be seen and is entirely immaterial, it is not our body and its desires, and it is not our mind and its opinions. Rather, it is that which is aware of our body and our mind. And to recognize true beauty, we must ascend to our soul. We must cut the chains that make us attached to the beautiful things in the world, we must lose interest in the images of the beautiful, and attain vision of the beautiful as such. We must lose sight of what we see, and gain awareness of vision as such. No longer seeing things, we now see sight itself. 

We read: 

“How, then, can we do this? What technique should we employ? How can one see the ‘inconceivable beauty’ which remains in a way within the sacred temple, not venturing outside, lest the uninitiated should see it? Indeed, let him who is able go and follow it inside, leaving outside the sight of his eyes, not allowing himself to turn back to the splendour of the bodies he previously saw. For when he does see beauty in bodies, he should not run after them, but realize that they are images and traces and shadows, and flee towards that of which they are images. For if someone runs towards the image, wanting to grasp it as something true, like someone wanting to grasp a beautiful reflection in water - as a certain story has it, hinting at something else, in an enigmatic way, I think, who then falls into the water and disappears - in the identical manner, someone who holds on to beautiful bodies and does not let them go plunges down, not with his body but with his soul, into the depths, where there is no joy for an intellect, and where he stays, blind in Hades, accompanied by shadows everywhere he turns.”

(Plotinus, I.6.8 1-15)

This is then what we must do, we must stay conscious of the fact that all the beautiful things we see or feel outside of us, are only images of soul. This is not to say that these things are bad and should not be looked at, far from it, but we must realize that they act only as stepping stones, as reminders of the “inconceivable beauty.” We must enjoy their presence, and allow them to deepen our connection to ourselves. We must not enjoy their presence, and thus allow them to drag ourselves away from ourselves. It is the latter scenario of which Narcissus is an example, he who “runs towards the image, wanting to grasp it as something true.” Wanting to grasp his reflection in the water, Narcissus shows us that he values the image of himself more than he values himself.  And he is here a victim of the mistake that Plotinus warns us for; to see beautiful things and chase them, because one doesn’t recognize that they are images of something else. 

III. The foolishness of Narcissus

In a passage from Ovid I cited earlier, we read:

“Fool, why try to catch a fleeting image, in vain? What you search for is nowhere: turning away, what you love is lost! What you perceive is the shadow of reflected form: nothing of you is in it.”

(Ovid, Metamorphoses, III, 402-436) 

There is a foolishness to Narcissus, a foolishness that will lead to his death. He searches for something beautiful to love outside of himself, in his body, and even further, in an image of his body. He thus turns away from himself, not realizing that what he really seeks to find is ‘nowhere’ to be found, for it is not to be found in the world, but it is that which looks at the world. And thus turning away towards the image, what he really loves is lost. For as much as Narcissus turns away from himself in the image, the basic dynamic of recognizing beauty still holds true for him. He sees a beautiful thing (his body, and the image of it), but he can only find this beautiful because it participates in beauty as such, because it reminds him of true beauty which resides in his soul. 

This is expressed by Ovid in his description of Narcissus: “Unknowingly he desires himself, and the one who praises is himself praised.” Narcissus thinks that he loves his image, but what he really loves in this image is himself. This dynamic of recognition is the same in everyone, the problem with Narcissus is that he is not aware of it. 

We are thus confronted with the paradox of Narcissus; he loves an image of himself, but the more he loves this image, the more he loses what he actually loves in the image. This explains why Narcissus is increasingly tormented the more he stares at his image, for the more that he stares, the more that he loses himself, until he dies. This is in fact quite strange, for the first time that Narcissus sees his own image, he is struck with inconceivable joy and love for it. Why then, does this love not stay? Why can’t he keep enjoying his own image for eternity? It is because the more that he loves the image, the more that he loses love for his true self. This is the cause of Narcissus’ sadness, not that he isn’t able to be united with the image. He thinks that he cries because the image disappears when his hands touch the water, but what he really cries for is the loss of connection to himself. It is precisely his love for his own image, that causes his grief. And the more he loves his image, the more he loses sight of himself, the more he is filled with grief. 

Again recalling Narcissus, Plotinus grasps this dynamic perfectly when he says:

“We pursue externals, being ignorant of the fact that it is the internal that moves us. It is as if someone, looking at his own image, and being ignorant of where it came from, where to pursue it.”

(Plotinus, 5.8.2.)

It is the internal that moves us. For us being souls, who are merely attached to matter, we might believe that it are material images that move us, like Narcissus believes that the rippling lake is the cause of his sadness. But in fact, these material things cannot move us, they merely ignite a movement of our souls that was already present before the presence of the image. And it is this movement of our soul that moves us. In Narcissus’ case, his grief is not caused by the image disappearing, but by the loss of connection that he has to his true self. A loss of connection that led him to excessively love the image in the first place. He grieves this loss, thinking that he is grieving the loss of the image. But what moves him is not the movement of the image, but the movement of himself moving away from his self. And this is Narcissus’ error, mistaking the effect for the cause, mistaking what reminds him of the cause, for the cause itself. 

When Narcissus was born, his mother went to a seer, asking if the boy would live a long and healthy life. The seer replied: “If he does not discover himself.” In light of what we have said, it might seem that the seer was wrong. For what destroyed Narcissus is the fact that he didn’t find himself, but only found his image. But is this truly so? What destroyed Narcissus was the grief that he experienced in not being able to attain union with his image. But this not being able to attain union, is because Narcissus is not his image, and he thus desires to attain union with something with which it is impossible to attain union. For it is only possible to attain union with that with which we are united: ourselves. We cannot be at one with what we are not at one with, we can only be at one with that with which we are at one. You cannot force reality to be different than it is. I am I, not something else. And Narcissus is himself, not his reflected image.

And in feeling sadness for not being at one with his image, Narcissus is confronted with his own union with himself. When a ripple is created in the water, distorting his image, when Narcissus feels that he cannot get closer to the image, the ties that attach him to his image are cut, and he is left alone with himself. It is this that pains him. He thinks that he is pained because of the loss of the image, but what really pains him is the confrontation with himself. Then what is his mistake? It is that he experiences this confrontation with himself as something bad, as an evil that is to be fled from. It is because in being left alone with himself, he does not love himself.

Plotinus says that the death of the images to which we attach ourselves are experienced as painful for those who fear to be alone with themselves, but this same death is longed for and loved by those who long to be alone with themselves.

“Death is the separation of the soul from the body. And this is not feared by one who longs to be alone.”

(Plotinus, 1.6.6)

Narcissus’ mistake is thus a mistake in attitude, he loves what should not be loved (excessively), and he hates what should be loved. And in doing so, the entire dynamic of loving and being loved is distorted. He is unable to love himself, but instead loves an image of himself. And loving this image, he turns into a mess, rotting away by himself in the woods, disconnected from everyone else. Narcissus is a child, who, unable to nourish himself with self-love, seeks for this love elsewhere, clinging to whatever image might fill the gaping hole left by his own disconnection from self.

IV. Contemplating the beautiful

For Plotinus, it is not that beautiful things should not be esteemed. There is no mistake in loving things external to our soul: our bodies, a statue, a lover, nature, et cetera. The mistake is in having this love be incomplete, and not recognizing it for what it is. What is it? It is a reminder of soul, and thus something that can deepen our connection to ourselves. Reading Plotinus, one can be struck with the impression that Plotinus is very far from the original Greek attitude. This attitude valued physical beauty above all else, one need only look at the statues that survive to us.

But this reading of Plotinus is very far from the truth. Plotinus too values physical beauty, one need only look at the passages in which he claims that looking at a beautiful person is a good illustration for what it means to look at the Good, or the parallel passages in which looking at an ugly face is used as an illustration for what evil would look like. And not to be forgotten, the many passages in which Plotinus praises the beauty of the natural world.

Physical and artistic beauty is to be esteemed greatly, Plotinus merely invites us to ask ourselves, why do we esteem these things to be beautiful? Merely because they are enjoyable to the senses, or because they express a beautiful soul? Because they help us flee from ourselves, or because they bring us closer to ourselves? The material beauties that we see, are only expressions of an internal beauty. And the degree to which a body can express this internal beauty, is the degree to which it is to be called beautiful. But even then, there is a question of attitude. When looking at a perfectly sculpted body, do we see the greatness of soul that it expresses, and is the desire awakened in us to become great ourselves? Or do we look at a perfectly sculpted body, to flee from the ugliness hidden in our own soul? These are the questions that Plotinus asks. 

In loving objects outside of ourselves, there is a sort of transcendental illusion that enacts itself. Part of loving is that our love radiates outwards, as it must, because love stems from our essence. We project love onto things, like the sculptor who creates a beautiful statue. But in doing so, it is all too easy to forget where this love came from in the first place —soul. But if we would only be engaged in contemplation of our own souls, we would be entirely unaware of the things outside of ourselves. So to open ourselves up to the world, we have to slightly forget about our selves. This is natural, and a beautiful thing in itself, for it allows for the outward expansion of love, and thus, for an increase in the beautiful in the world. The error occurs in opening ourselves so much, that we forget our selves, and waste ourselves away in the outside.

Our love flows outwards, but losing sight of the importance of nourishing the source, the creek soon runs dry. This is detrimental, not only for ourselves, but also for the people and the things that we claim to love. For from what source shall we love, if we fail to keep this source alive? We will have no love to give, and live as bitter individuals, consumed by rage and anger. Or we will cling desperately to others, begging for their love, because we are no longer able to fulfil our own needs.

Narcissus - Caravaggio, c. 1597-1599

V. Self love 

It is often said that the story of Narcissus is about the dangers of excessive self-love. It is said that Narcissus’ mistake is that he loves himself too much, at the cost of loving others, Echo, for example. Hence, our word ‘narcissism.’ But this is not what the story tells us. It tells rather of a lack of self-love. Narcissus does not love himself, and thus, he loves an image of himself, thinking that in doing so he can find the deep connection to self that he seeks, not realizing that this is what he seeks, and not realizing that it can never be found in loving what is external. French philosopher Louis Lavelle writes:

“In the end, Narcissus’ crime is to prefer his image over himself.”

(Louis Lavelle, L’erreur de Narcisse, 47.)

This is what the myth tells us, and what Plotinus urges us to understand:

“If one assumes oneself to be the most dishonoured and mortal of the things one does honour, neither the nature nor the power of god could ever be impressed in one's heart.”

(Plotinus, V.1.1.) 

And it is the paradox that this deeper love of self is required for a healthy love for others. For the person who fails to love himself, will not love others because they express a greatness of soul, but only to flee from his own ugliness of soul. He will disperse his love outwards, until there is no more love to give. It is not that Narcissus cared too much for himself. Rather, Narcissus failed to care for himself, and this is the cause of his downfall. For if Narcissus would truly take care of himself, his soul would be made beautiful, and he’d have no reason to flee in its image.