The first thing to say about this book is that it is quite extraordinary. The scope is breathtaking, seeking as it does, to detail every shred of evidence for the reception of Plato in England from 55 BCE to around 1500. It represents, as Moore explains in his introduction, “an unimaginable task: reading all extant literary texts found in England that could plausibly cite Plato, finding those citations, and then determining precisely what the author of that citation must have read” (11). The result is both useful and entertaining. The research that went into this edition represents forty years of work on the part of the late Professor Jayne, but the peculiarly difficult task of the editor, Christopher Moore, must also be recognised. Moore himself does not draw undue attention to his involvement, explaining his role in bringing this book to light under the sub-heading “the appearance of this volume” (13-14) where we learn that he was left a type-written, cut-and-paste manuscript from the 1990s; he reconstructed an “elaborate bibliography and reference system” and had to rewrite many of the paragraphs, compressing some and adding contextual detail to others and correcting a few errors of fact. A few undetected errors have slipped through, which will be detailed at the end of this review, but which do not detract from the achievement of either author or editor.
One of the particularly pleasing approaches Jayne takes is in not dismissing the possibility of the knowledge of a text simply because there is no evidence of a copy having been held in England. His thorough approach extends to considering “for important English authors of texts citing Plato, whether they ever studied abroad or with people who had studied abroad and, if so, what texts or views could have been so consulted or acquired” (11). This approach is a useful reminder that many of those teaching and learning in England came from or went to the continent and beyond; and the results of Jayne’s research provide valuable information, not just about knowledge of Plato in England, but about numerous other classical writers who happened to cite him, such as Cicero or Macrobius.
Jayne is quick to note at the outset, and indeed the sub-title referring to Plato as an alchemist and theologian gives the hint, that he is not interested in direct knowledge of Plato’s ideas, but of the largely confused and garbled ideas that were held about him before his works were more readily available. The focus is on Plato’s reputation rather than his influence. One of the more entertaining of these misconceptions, to give an example, leads to an idea that Plato was a medical expert. There is a charming illustration form BL. MS Cotton Vitellius CIII, fol. 19r of Plato apparently receiving a scroll of medical lore from a centaur. The confusion is down to a complex series of scribal errors, and Jayne’s deductions as to how this came about are given in admirable detail (57-60).
The main body of the book is divided into eight chapters, each one representing a significant period in relation to reception and access to knowledge. To begin at the end, following the conclusion is an appendix containing a list of both spurious titles and canonical works. The spurious titles include Plato’s Calf, a handbook of practical magic largely addressed to farmers, and Plato’s Summa of Alchemy, an alchemical handbook of Arabic origin apparently known to Chaucer (292). Of the canonical works, the majority relate to the Timaeus in part or in whole. We learn that the first Greek manuscript of the works of Plato arrived in 1413, after which time a reference to Plato could be to any of the dialogues, but that before that date, according to Jayne, it always represents the Timaeus (293). Following the appendix is a table of the manuscripts mentioned in the book from the tenth to the fifteenth centuries, then a section called “outline of discussions” where for each chapter the sources and sub-sources are listed, so for example Orosius comes under Alfred, and Gregory of Nyssa under Eriugena, or in chapter five, Quintilian comes under John of Salisbury. Finally, there are lengthy bibliographies and an index. These useful additions represent about 30% of the book.
To return to the chapters, the first one is very short, covering The Romans, 55 BCE-499 CE, but its inclusion is telling of the lengths that Jayne took to cover every possibility of knowledge of Plato. The only candidate here of someone who may conceivably have heard of Plato is Pytheas of Marseilles who, according to Strabo, made a visit to Southern Britan in 310 BCE. He also considers the possibility that Pelagius (c. 354-418 CE) may have come across Plato, as the Timaeus and Protagoras were translated by Cicero in 45-44 BC, but as there is no evidence of his mentioning these texts, there is nothing conclusive (19). The second chapter, “The Early Benedictines” (449–943), is more fruitful with direct or indirect references to Plato coming in with the writings of Augustine, Boethius, Jerome, Lactantius, and of course, Eriugena, to mention but a few. There are moments when Jayne’s own prejudices creep in, for example he notes that “Gregory [the Great] had taken every precaution to see that the Christianity that was taught on the island should have no taint of paganism about it...but in 669 a new pope, Vitalian, sent three new emissaries to England—and impurity ensued” (23).
Chapter Three covers the Dunstan reform (943-1066), taking us up to the end of the Anglo-Saxon period. This period saw a significant rise in imported books, and monks from the continent being invited over to share their knowledge. This then brings an increased number of references to Plato, including the association with medicine and herbals mentioned above. Dunstan’s reforms brought in the teaching of the trivium and quadrivium in schools (65), which saw the introduction of the writings of Fulgentius and new texts by Boethius; reference to Macrobius’s work comes in on a glossed copy of Bede’s De natura rerum. Jayne is both thorough and open minded. Although there is no documentable copy of Macrobius’sCommentary of the Dream of Scipio in England before 1162, he does not rule out the possibility that Macrobius was known as early as the time of Eriugena.
The fourth chapter on The Early Norman Period (1066-1150) is the longest of the eight chapters, due to the extent of change in influence and movement at the time. The requirement to keep records in French mean that “Englishmen, lay as well as clerical” (75), went to France for their education. However, the earliest significant influence on a rise of interest in Plato was the result of Adelard of Bath’s studies in Sicily where he had access to and made us of Calcidius’s Timaeus. There was a twelfth century revival of interest in Plato in France, but, according to Jayne, the impact was not felt in England immediately. Jayne gives a table summarising “Plato in Norman France and England between 1066 and 1193.” The column of English writers drawing on Plato is accompanied by a column giving their sources. The sources are sometimes given as writers and sometimes as countries, so where for 1125 William of Malmesbury’s sources are given as Seneca and Aulus Gellius, in 1150, Robert of Ketton’s source is Spain. There are numerous light references to Plato playing on his reptation before we learn that the first Englishman to take a serious interest in the philosopher was a layman, Adelard of Bath (c. 1090-1160). Jayne details the possible influences on Adelard, from his proximity to Malmesbury where he had access to Eriugena’s “Platonizing gloss on the de nuptiis of Martianus Capella” to his trips to Laon, Tours, Spain, and Sicily. On his travels Adelard gets hold of a copy of Calcidius’s translation of the Timaeus and brings it back to England so that the first copy of any authentic work of Plato arrives in England in around 1111 (85-86).
Chapter Five takes us to the later Norman period. It is perhaps generally less well known than the conquest of England, but the Normans also conquered Sicily at around the same time, allowing scholars such as Adelard, mentioned above, to come to the island to study and take advantage of their libraries containing unique collections of Greek and Arabic manuscripts. Jayne gives us a detailed explanation of the organisation of the Kingdom of Sicily in the twelfth century in order to explain how it came about that an English scholar was gifted a copy of a new translation of the Phaedo by Aristippus. Jayne does not stint on detail, giving us a letter by Aristippus recommending the reading of Plato as an aid to biblical studies: “therefore I advise you to keep the writings of Plato close by you, and give them a chance to take you under their spell” (141). Much of the chapter is given over to John of Salisbury, who, with a letter of recommendation from none other than Bernard of Clairvaux, secures a post in the secretariat of the Archbishop of Canterbury (149). John writes a mini-treatise on Plato, arguing that although some of Plato’s ideas are “contrary to the faith...most of [his] opinions will give no offence to a virtuous reader” (150). John then proceeds to detail Plato’s opinions on the cosmos and the soul. Jayne looks at several of John’s works, the most significant being the Policraticus, which draws on many of Plato’s works. However, it is not a work of reliable scholarship “even by medieval standards” and many of his references to Plato come from uncredited citations. Jayne provides a table giving those sources as provided by modern scholarship.
The last three chapters are “The Universities (1193-1221)”; “The Friars (1221-1340)”; and “The Seculars (1340-1423).” Chapter six details the influence of the new universities (1193-1221). The universities we learn, were only interested in Aristotle, and not Plato. Whilst he was not a set text, students could still come across references to Plato in other texts, such as Cicero or Priscian. However, we learn thatPlato’s Calf and Plato’s Circle and Plato’s Herbal from chapter two are still in circulation, so there was still a popular idea that Plato was a medico-magician-cum-alchemist as well as a philosopher and champion of logic. The friars of chapter seven were required by the Lateran Council of 1215 to educate the “apostatic English population” that was largely illiterate and bring them back to the church. This meant that Franciscans, Dominicans, Augustinians, and Carmelites established major houses near the universities. Plato’s teachings on the soul, particularly from the Phaedrus, come into play. Even here, misconceptions about Plato continue to reign, and we find the delightful legend that Plato was a Christian, and wore a medal claiming “I believe in Christ, Son of God...” (256). Finally, the seculars of chapter eight who take an interest in Plato are mostly at Oxford, but even by the mid fourteenth-century, he was still considered primarily as an expert on astronomy. However, there were scholars who defended Plato’s opinions on primary matter and universals, among them a young John Wyclif. Jayne argues that Wyclif had only read the Timaeus, taking the rest of his notions from Augustine’s Eighty-Three Questions. This final chapter brings references to Plato’s “communism” in Langland’s Piers Ploughman and frequent references to Plato as a by-word for intelligence padding Lydgate’s translations, and even Chaucer alludes to Plato in The Canterbury Tales. Jayne’s conclusion explains that the abrupt end-point of 1423 is because this is when everything changed. Abbot Whethamstede imported theMeno into England in 1423, and in the next sixty years would come The Republic, Axiochus, Euthyphro, Crito,Plato’s Letters, the Apology,and Phaedrus. This brings an end to the popular misconceptions about Plato that had flourished among the many references to Plato in “saints’ lives, herbals, chronicles, dictionaries, florilegia, encyclopedias, poems, letters, physicians pocket-cards, lists of disputation topics, drawings, library catalogues, alchemical manuals, sermons, commentaries, mythographies, theological tracts, and many other genres” (283).
I mentioned earlier that a few flaws remained undetected, and these relate perhaps to old-fashioned attitudes. A reference to the Romans in England, or the description of Eriugena and Gerald of Wales as Englishmen are surprising, as is the omission of Hadrian’s African origins when Theodore’s birthplace of Tarsus is given. Moore perhaps should also have downplayed the credence given by Jayne to William of Malmesbury’s twelfth-century account of account of Eriugena coming to England to be martyred on the points of his pupils’ pens. Such hiccoughs, however, are minor, and it is to be remembered that Jayne had not prepared this for publication.
To conclude, this book is at once impressive and entertaining. It is also incredibly useful to scholars of the medieval period, providing as it does, not only an encyclopaedic account of all the references to Plato and their sources from the fifth to the fifteenth century, but in addition it gives a highly detailed account of the manuscripts and texts available in England or found by English people on their travels over that period. Jayne and Moore are not stinting of detail. Historical and political contexts are given so that the book also reads on one level as a potted history of the middle ages. It is illustrated with clear black and white photographs of several of the manuscript illustrations, and Jayne’s tables summarising the information given are most useful. For a book dealing with such a weighty topic as the reception of Plato in England over a thousand-year period, it is remarkably accessible and pleasant to read, and it is a book that certainly deserves to be read.