Feminism in Greek Literature from Homer to Aristotle
Aristotle · en
He continues his argument by advising his friends to _teach_ their wives;
and he deals with the weakest point in woman’s life—the ignorance in
which they were kept. ‘Do not be afraid,’ he says; ‘teach her all that
you would wish your companion to know.’
Thereupon Anthisthenes puts the pertinent question: ‘If that is your
idea, Socrates, why do you not try and train Xanthippë, who is, I
believe, the most difficult of all wives, present, past, and future?’ To
this he gets the following reply:
‘I have noticed,’ says Socrates, ‘that people who wish to
become good horsemen get a spirited horse, not a tame, docile
animal. They think that if they can manage a fiery steed they
will find no difficulty with an ordinary horse. My case is the
same. I wanted to be a citizen of the world and to mix with all
men. So I took her. I am quite sure that if I can endure her,
I shall find no difficulty in ordinary company.’
Thus Socrates draws benefit even from a shrewish wife. His ideas of
a happy marriage, and the best means of securing that happiness, are
set out for us by Xenophon in the _Œconomicus_. Ischomachus, Socrates’
interlocutor, is for all practical purposes Xenophon himself, and the
whole passage should be compared with those delightful stories of
conjugal happiness—the tale of Panthea, and the wife of Tigranes—which
the historian gives us in the Education of Cyrus. The dialogue begins
by Socrates asking Ischomachus how he won his sobriquet of ‘honest
gentleman’—surely not by staying at home!
‘No,’ replies Ischomachus, ‘I do not spend my days indoors:
my wife is quite capable of managing our household without my
help.’
‘Ah, that is what I want to know. Did you train your wife
yourself to be all that a wife should be? Or, when you took her
from her parents, did she possess enough knowledge to perform
her share of house management?’
‘Possess knowledge when I took her? Why, she was not fifteen
years old, and until then she had lived under careful
surveillance—to see and hear, and ask as little as possible.
All that she knew was how to take wool and turn it into a
dress. All that she had seen was how the spinning-women have
their daily tasks assigned. As regards control of appetite,
she had certainly received a sound education, and that, I
think, is all-important.’