In this chapter, König explores the genre of sympotic writing in late antiquity. With the exception of Methodius’ Symposium, König finds few such texts in Christian writing from the first to fifth centuries CE. In what follows, he explores the neglect of sympotic forms within late-antique literature. König attempts to demonstrate that Christian literature does engage with sympotic dialogue, but in so doing Christian writers self-consciously reshape it in distinct ways.
König begins by asking what features of symposia made them so attractive to Greek writers under Roman rule. His answer is that the symposium, with its Hellenic, elite, philosophical associations, is a key “space for performing Greekness” (87). At the same time, the emphasis on dialogue within symposia makes them spaces for the “active treatment of inherited knowledge” (88): in the symposium, debate is based on both intricate knowledge of the past and novel ideas in the present. Finally, the symposium also draws in the reader because it is based on the premise that every listener – reader and symposiast alike – “must be ready with his or her own addition to the string of alternative explanations on offer” (90). Indeed, this participatory element means that we as readers can imagine that we are literally in dialogue with the writings of the past. This simultaneous dialogic engagement and blurring of boundaries makes the sympotic form particularly potent. König discusses Bakhtin’s distinction between heteroglossic and dialogic forms to clarify why the effect of sympotic dialogues is so powerful. Athenaeus, the great writer in the sympotic genre, thought of every voice as “a compound of previous utterances and associations” (94). This effect, foreshadowing Bakhtin, is made clear by the framing of Athenaeus’ writings as dialogues. In other words, the symposium form makes the texts active and dialogic, in the Bakhtinian sense.
König next uses these traits of the sympotic form to discuss the absence of symposia from Christian writing. One suggestion he makes is that the “emphasis on convivial openness and ingenuity, the sympotic dislike of authoritative statement … is not a comfortable one for Christian writers” (95). To examine this and other suggestions, König treats the dialogues of Augustine. Augustine pointedly avoids linking philosophical conversation with drinking and evening settings. He also prefers to describe writing and reading over transcribing oral debate. Augustine even suggests that the audience would not benefit from seeing a “public quarrel between the interlocutors” (97). König suggests that this wariness of “speculative and playful speech” might explain “Christian neglect of the sympotic genre more generally” (97). In addition, König suggests that associations with intoxication and seduction conflicts with Christian attitudes towards “the pleasures of eating and drinking” (98). Furthermore, the elitism of symposia clashes with inclusive Christian attitudes. To resolve this conflict in his Symposium, Methodius replaces “membership of a specific sympotic community” with “attendance at the universal … banquet of the Christian church” (98).
The first example König gives is Book 2 of Clement’s Paidagogus. In this text, Clement treats sympotic themes like “the question of how to behave at dinner” and “proper attitudes to food” (100), but he avoids use of the sympotic form. Instead, Clement gives the appearance that all sources agree with him. For example, he presents the readers with his Christian sources by acting as “a mouthpiece for their coherent and consistent instruction” (101). Clement is not always successful in maintaining this appearance, but he certainly tries hard to suppress the implications of the sympotic form. As König previously demonstrated, the dialogic voice of texts by non-Christian writers like Athenaeus emerges precisely because of the sympotic form. On the other hand, the dialogic voice of Clement’s text emerges despite avoiding the sympotic form. In sum, König’s examination of Augustine demonstrated that Christian writers are uncomfortable with the indeterminacy of symposia, while reading Clement showed that they also tried hard to avoid the many-voicedness of sympotic speech.
Finally, König turns to Methodius’ Symposium. He argues that this work is self-consciously dialogic: it includes a range of Christian views on “the traditionally sympotic subject of desire,” expressed “in Plutarchan fashion us[ing] the language of improvisation or contribution” (103). Methodius reshapes the agonistic traditions of symposia by incorporating language of competition, including wrestling, even while mimicking the language of Plato’s Symposium closely. Methodius redirects the language of agonism to emphasize the Christian ideal whereby “the true struggle is against oneself … with virginity, and the nearness to God it provides, as the prize” (106). In König’s analysis, this repurposing of sympotic dialogue signals that Methodius is not simply neglecting sympotic dialogue, but is consciously exploring the form and signaling how and why he differs in approach.
The last text König analyzes is Macrobius’ Saturnalia. Macrobius is generally closer to his Greco-Roman precedents than Methodius. Like Plato, Macrobius celebrates local identity; the Saturnalia were a distinct part of Roman religious and literary heritage. But König argues that Macrobius is also “highly self-conscious about his engagement with and reshaping of sympotic tradition” (107) in ways that are shared with Methodius. For instance, Macrobius too is wary of argument, uncertainty, and inventiveness. In his analysis of the Saturnalia, König draws on the work of Robert Kaster. In this view, Methodius couches the obligation to maintain harmony in moral language – with no place for competition or for humor. In Kaster’s words, “the only man who smiles in the Saturnalia is the expert” (108). To resolve conflict, Methodius uses a “brutality which far surpasses the recurrent atmosphere of gentle mockery in Plutarch’s Sympotic Questions” (108). König further argues that this reshaping of traditional sympotic forms is self-conscious and clearly signaled to Methodius’ audience. For example, Macrobius translates many passages from Plutarch’s Sympotic Questions very closely but still avoids “the typical Plutarchan preference for providing several different explanations” (110). Methodius even satirizes portions of the Sympotic Questions, discussing the same questions but mocking the “garrulousness” of the Greek approach. Like Methodius, Macrobius redirects the idea of dialogue to justify a more harmonious, Christian way of understanding their world.
König ends by pointing to the many omissions he has made and directions to further explore the connections between Christian writing and the sympotic form. Furthermore, he stresses that “we should be wary of generalizing too quickly and too simplistically about Christian and late-antique disinterest in dialogue” (113). With respect to Macrobius and Methodius, König’s main argument is that although they seem to be neglecting sympotic forms what they are really doing is “engaging with those traditions intricately, reshaping them for their own new contexts and new uses” (113).