Dodds Writes

The thumos may once have been a primitive "breath-soul" or "life-soul"; but in Homer it is neither the soul nor (as in Plato) a "part of the soul." It may be defined, roughly and generally, as the organ of feeling. But it enjoys an independence which the word "organ" does not suggest to us, influenced as we are by the later concepts of "organism" and "organic unity." A man's thumos tells him that he must now eat or drink or slay an enemy, it advises him on his course of action, it puts words into his mouth: , he says, or . He can converse with it, or with his "heart" or his "belly," almost as man to man.

— E.R. Dodds

Dodds is pointing at something Plato buried so thoroughly that we no longer feel its absence. In Homer, *thūmos* is not a faculty you possess and direct — it speaks to you, advises you, argues back. The man and his *thūmos* hold a conversation almost as equals. That grammar of interiority has no modern equivalent, because what replaced it was precisely the unified subject who contains and governs his inner life rather than inhabiting it as a field of partly autonomous voices.

What Plato moved away from was not irrationality but plurality — the irreducible multiplicity of what addresses a person from within. The unified soul, the tripartite soul, the rational soul that disciplines the lower parts: all of these represent a reorganization that installed a hierarchy where Homer had a negotiation. And the reorganization worked. It gave Western thought its extraordinary leverage over nature, logic, theology, science. It was not a mistake. But the cost was precisely what Dodds is making visible here: the loss of a grammar in which the body's claim — the hunger, the rage, the impulse — could address a man as something other than an enemy to be subdued. Once *thūmos* became appetite to be ruled, everything it said became suspect, and the project of not listening to it became identical with the project of becoming human.


E.R. Dodds·The Greeks and the Irrational·1951