Let us first set the stage of the drama. The speeches were heard by one Aristodemus, who was present at the gathering but did not speak. He later retold them to Appolodorus, who opens the Symposium, who then told them to Plato himself, if we are to identify the unnamed friend of Appolodorus at the beginning with Plato. He later committed those words in writing. We, the readers, therefore learn of the substance of the speeches told at the gathering fifth-hand. Such removal in time gives the work all his flavor and helps it achieve the dreamy atmosphere that captures us so. Distance, because it defines an unknown place, translates into a sense of awe and mystery. This sense of awe and wonder generates authority. Authority is something we cannot fully grasp, yet recognize as real, affecting us in some way and, moreover, as something positive. Through a distancing effect, Plato introduces Socrates as an authoritative figure. From the very first sections, we know that we are about to enter something mysterious and awesome (something which rational science does not, and cannot trigger in us).
We now enter the narrative itself. There is first the famous and enigmatic trance which seizes Socrates at the front porch. We know it means something significant, yet we are for the time being denied all intent to interpret what the trance means as we are led with Appolodorus into Agathon’s house: we are still in this world and not yet ready to partake of things divine. Once all have entered Agathon’s house and reclined on their couch, the protagonists agree to dismiss the flute-player. The six orators, including Socrates, are now confined among themselves in a closed space: something important is about to take place. The flute-girl symbolizes the outside, chaotic world of passions being chased out and away from the inner confines of the soul as it is about to enter the mysteries of Love. The enclosed room is also the image of the well-ordered State safe within its walls and governed by just and temperate laws in which chaos has no part, leaving the citizens free to actualize the polis. We may even go as far as seeing in this assembly, to say something bold, an anticipation of the Church, an assembly of faithful who, through their gathering at a ritual feast, meet the divine Logos, creator of all things, Love itself. Wine, the cause of drunkeness, is for that reason consumed very moderately, if at all, and only reindulged in again at the end, when everything is thrown into confusion by the entrance of a band of revellers. The setting is now in good order with no unruly passion left. (1)
