Robert Frost famously claimed that “Poetry is what gets lost in translation.” Perhaps he never read Plato.

Although most think of Plato as one of the most influential philosophers in world history, he also is a peerless stylist of Greek prose. As one scholar puts it,

Plato is the great philosophical flirt. He is the philosophical critic of poetry and the most poetic of philosophers, the defender of justice whose apparent model of the good man shuns political participation, the critic of writing who writes—never, however, in his own voice, but typically through that of a man known for his irony.

Beyond the philosophical arguments he presents and their resounding influence throughout intellectual history, Plato’s artistic genius is evident in the way his works confound and surprise.

While even the name “Plato” sounds imposing, when one actually reads his works, they meet engaging characters, confounding arguments, and unexpected twists and turns.

One of the most distinctive qualities of the vast majority of his works is their dialogic nature. Philosophy for Socrates was something to be conducted through in-person conversation. Plato designed his texts for use in the ancient classroom to spur his students to engage in philosophical
conversations themselves.

It is precisely that easygoing, natural, conversational character that is nearly impossible to reproduce in English. There are all kinds of untranslatable words in the Greek that signal agreement, acceptance, or encouragement, which subtly shade the text and give it a surprisingly informal feeling at times.

The translator confronts at least three difficulties in Plato: they must accurately present some incredibly difficult philosophical positions, which continue to be debated today, maintain the natural feeling of the dialogue, and accurately render the meaning of a foreign language in contemporary English.

Reeve’s 2004 translation manages this balancing act the best. His translation maintains fidelity to the Greek while remaining accessible. While he emphasizes the dialogic nature of the text to a slightly greater degree in his English translation, his choices throughout feel utterly faithful to the text. Moreover, his version comes with an accessible introduction, suggestions for further readings, notes, and a summary that will serve new readers well.

Here is an overview of several of the most prominent, widely used translations. A sample (specifically, the passage 492a) in which Socrates discusses the education of a philosopher is presented from each for the sake of stylistic comparison.

Plato: The Republic, translated by Desmond Lee. 1951. Penguin Group: London.

Lee’s introduction holds up surprisingly well for its age. He offers a rather deep overview of Plato’s life, his philosophical output, and the nature of the Republic, specifically. Lee notes that he has divided up the work according to its structure rather than by book, itself a reflection of the ancient technological limitation of scroll-size. Lee aims to reproduce the conversational feel of the Greek, without straying too much from its meaning.

Here is the sample passage (492a):

‘The philosophic nature we have postulated, therefore, if it is properly taught, must in the course of its growth develop every excellence, but if it is sown and grows in unsuitable soil, the very opposite will happen, unless providence intervenes.’

To be sure, Lee’s translation shows its age. It can feel stilted and stuffy. However, he does render the Greek accurately. While he might not quite achieve the conversational feel of Plato’s Greek, he has produced an accurate, somewhat readable text.

Those who want an accurate and affordable version of the text should consider Lee. However, its age and the mechanical nature in which the text is translated will be off-putting to some. There are versions that retain fidelity to the ancient Greek while also remaining more accessible. This is all to say that Lee’s version isn’t bad, though it has been surpassed and other translations are more suitable to a contemporary ear, without any sacrifice of accuracy.

The Republic of Plato, translated by Allan Bloom. 1968. Basic Books: New York.

Allan Bloom, best known as a conservative political philosopher, produced his translation in 1968. It too shows its age.

Bloom makes few concessions towards the lay reader. His Republic is a demanding and imposing text. The first sentence of the preface is, “This is intended to be a literal translation,” a goal that he thoroughly realizes. It aims at “the serious student.” He rejects the notion that a translation should sound contemporary. In the preface, he even goes so far as to question whether intelligibility itself is worth the “loss in substance.” He notes that literal translation, as well as the huge historical gulf between the present and classical antiquity, makes the Republic difficult to read and that its intellectual treasures ought to be reserved for those with the fortitude to make their way through the text. Those who aren’t up to the task are left to give up or look elsewhere. No concessions will be made here.

His text also includes a lengthy interpretative essay, the merits of which are beyond the scope of this review.

Here is a short sample of the text (492a):

“Well, then, I suppose that if the nature we set down for the philosopher chances on a suitable course of learning, it will necessarily grow and come to every kind of virtue; but if it isn’t sown, planted, and nourished in what’s suitable, it will come to all the opposite, unless one of the gods chances to assist it.”

Bloom hews closely to the Greek text, sometimes to the point of incomprehensibility. The meaning of the phrase “Come to all the opposite,” for instance, is slightly opaque. The same might be said of the phrase “we set down.” These translations aren’t inaccurate but they do make certain cognitive demands of the reader. The use of the verb “chances” also sounds somewhat removed from contemporary speech. Bloom takes almost no pains to retain the conversational style of the dialogue. When choosing between ease of comprehension and fidelity to the meaning of the Greek, Bloom chooses fidelity to the Greek.

Bloom’s translation is excellent for those who privilege fidelity to the meaning of the text over all else, including its feel and style. Those who want a clear, accessible version of the text ought to look elsewhere.

Plato: Republic, translated by Robin Waterfield. 1993. Oxford University Press: Oxford.

Robin Waterfield rather sensibly states that his aim is to make his text as readable as possible while still remaining true to the Greek. He uses endnotes to clarify passages so that the reader can check them when they would like

A fairly lengthy, topical and thematic overview precedes the translation.

Waterfield divides the traditional ten books into 14. He makes a good point that there is no guarantee whatsoever that Plato would himself would have divided his work into 10 books (this was the work of a subsequent Plato scholar). Waterfield’s new division of chapters makes sense in terms of the topics and subject matter even though it breaks from tradition. This might be a consideration for those who want a more straightforward English version of the canonical ten chapters.

He translates 492a:

“Now, in my opinion, if it receives a suitable education, the philosophical nature we proposed is bound to grow and arrive at perfect goodness. However, if its germination and growth take place in an unsuitable educational environment, then without divine intervention its destination will inevitably be completely the opposite.”

Waterfield is exactingly precise. He errs more towards the side of fidelity to the ancient Greek rather than to the conversational feel of Platonic dialogue. As a result, this version is better suited for students of philosophy who want to understand the exact substance of Plato’s arguments as opposed to those who want to savor his remarkable literary style. The choppy flow of the passage reflects the fact that he privileges fidelity to the Greek over creating a smooth reading experience.

While those wanting a thoroughly accurate translation might wish to consult Waterfield, they would be served no less well by Reeve’s more accessible translation.

Plato: The Republic, translated by Tom Griffith. 2000. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge.

Tom Griffith states that his primary goal is to reproduce the conversational feel of The Republic. He rightfully points out in the preface that there are many translations “where you cannot read a complete page without coming across something which no English-speaking person would ever say, or ever have said.” As a result, Griffith privileges the conversational feel of the text over strict fidelity to its meaning. The translation’s editor, John Ferrari, oversaw the translation in order to ensure that Griffith never misconstrued Plato’s philosophical arguments in his attempts to retain the conversational feel of the dialogue.

The text features a fairly short introduction that feels less than comprehensive, a helpful annotated bibliography, an annotated historical timeline, and a synopsis that precedes the translation.

He renders our sample section (492a):

‘So if what we defined as the philosophical nature gets the course of study it requires, I assume it can’t help growing and coming to all manner of excellence. But if the seed falls in the wrong place, if that is where it grows and is nourished, then without the assistance of some god it will turn out the exact opposite.’

To be sure, this is not a bad rendering of the Greek. Griffith succeeds maintaining the conversational feel of the text (if in a slightly halting way).

However, his translation is somewhat wordy. This passage totals 61 words in comparison to Reeve’s stripped down 54. Although this isn’t a massive difference, it can really add up over the span of the entire text.

The phrase “All manner of excellence” sounds like a slightly forced attempt at naturalism. Paradoxically, Griffith’s efforts to maintain the conversational feel of the Greek, at times, end up backfiring. One is left wanting a more straightforward and direct rendering of the Greek, which would actually be more conversational and accessible in the long run.

Those who sample and enjoy Griffith’s style should feel comfortable knowing that he has not strayed too far from the Greek text. This is not a bad translation. However, many might feel that his attempt to maintain the conversational feeling of the Greek has led to a slightly less literal text and, unfortunately, a less accessible one as well.

Plato: Republic, translated by C. D. C. Reeve. 2004. Hackett Publishing Company, Inc.: Indianapolis.

Reeve, who previously edited the Hackett translation of G.M.A. Grube, produced his own translation to succeed it, also published by Hackett. The introduction is lucid and helpful. There’s a helpful synopsis of each book as well. The translation, while taking occasional liberties, manages to balance fidelity to the conversational character of the text with maintaining the literal meaning of the Greek.

Reeve takes the slight liberty of transposing the majority of the text, which Socrates recalls in first-person narration, into a dialogic form. So although Socrates is relaying this entire dialogue to some unnamed interlocutor (another character? The reader?) in Plato’s text, Reeve presents it as a direct dialogue.

This approach has serious merits. There’s little question that Plato designed his dialogues to be performed in the context of a classroom. Scholars have suggested that, by performing the text, students might not just assume the roles of characters, but actually interrupt the dialogue in order to start philosophizing themselves. Moreover, this choice highlights Plato’s debt to Athenian theater.

In all other respects, Reeve’s achieves his stated aim of producing a text that is as close to the original as possible. Here is the sample passage (492a):

“Well, then, if the nature we proposed for the philosopher happens to receive the proper instruction, I imagine it will inevitably grow to attain every virtue. But if it is not sown, planted, and grown in a suitable environment, it will develop in entirely the opposite way, unless some god comes to its aid.”

Reeve’s translation is lucid, straightforward, and faithful to the Greek. Any reader of Plato, whether confronting his work in Greek or English, has to confront difficult language and ideas. Reeve’s edition makes the confrontation easier than others because he translates the Greek into such clear English.

It is hard to find fault with Reeve’s translation. It is certainly the best translation for a lay reader, and not a bad choice for the serious scholar either. He captures the conversational feel of the Greek, and its literal meaning, in easy-to-read English.