In our discussion about the Symposium, we framed the conversation around understanding that this play is the only record we have of a Symposium, so there is no way to tell distinctly what was comical hyperbole and what actually mirrored the structure and discussions of Symposium. Similarly, within the Symposium, we heard solely from adult males, and noted a distinct absence of the young, sexually abused boys and the women in Greek society. As a result, I’d like to explore further the danger of a single story.
In 2009, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie gave a Ted Talk titled “The Danger of the Single Story.” She discussed how we are susceptible to accepting a single story as fact, when in reality it is solely a singular narrative from a singular point of view. She discusses primarily how the absence of African Literature creates a Westernized space where other literatures and cultures are not welcome. She also discusses how once moving to the U.S., she was initially critical of the degrading “third-world country” title given to Africa, but then realized that Americans were being fed a single story. This story presented a beautiful landscape with wild animals and senseless wars between tribal people. Although this was the popularized narrative, this is not the experience Adichie had in Nigeria, and she was alarmed by how impressionable people are by just a singular narrative. If we hear one story, we are inclined to believe in its truth, even if it is the only story we hear about a topic.
Similarly, in “Waiting for Godot” by Samuel Beckett, a play I had to read for another class, one character discusses how in the bible there is the tale of two thieves who are on the cross with Jesus, one becomes damned, the other saved. However, only one of authors of the new Testament wrote about these thieves, the others don’t mention the thieves at all. And yet, we choose to fixate on this story. Humanity likes to focus on this single narrative as a representation that if we make good decisions, we will be saved. However, I think this instance of human delusion represents instead the willingness of humanity to believe what we want to hear.
In my psychology class we learned about attribution theory, which argues that humans will explain their observations with their existing beliefs. We learned this in the context of a relationship; if you are in a loving relationship, and your partner is late for your date, you assume that it must have been an unfortunate occurrence, since your partner would never willingly disappoint you, but if you are not in a loving relationship, you may blame the event on your partner’s unreliability and negative attributes. However, I believe this can be applied beyond relationships. Humans want to be right, and we will take an existing piece of evidence in favor of their beliefs and trust it over all evidence to the contrary. For example, as we discussed in class, women’s genitalia and sexual function were originally explained through a male lens. Since men achieve orgasm through penetrative sex and idealized the penis as a sexual organ, their clinical studies of the time supported their theories that women who did not also achieve pleasure in this form of sex were sexually inferior in some way. We are tempted to collect evidence to support our existing beliefs. We know now that we cannot trust this narrative as science.
In the Greek plays we read (even beyond Symposium), we are reading a single narrative: the narrative of the elite, literate, white males. While we may be tempted to trust this as a form of anecdotal history, in no way can we accept this as encompassing the entirety of the Athenian experience. Upon closer inspection, we must recognize that this is a single story. We must be wary of the single story and our human inclination to understand it as fact. We must build our critical eye and look to see beyond the surface, titular characters, and seek to understand the periphery characters and omitted narratives.
Sofia Devin 