Abstract Plotinus did not set out to be obscure. Difficulties of interpretation arise partly from his style of writing, compressed, elliptical, allusive. The allusions, easily enough recognisable by those he was writing for, are often not recognised at all by the modern reader who no longer has at his fingertips the texts of Plato and Aristotle that Plotinus undoubtedly alludes to, but whose authors he has no need to name. So it is pre-eminently with his subtle use of earlier ideas (...) in tackling the difficult question of the nature of matter and its place in the scheme of emanation. The frequent references to matter as `non-being' and as `privation' can be understood only if they are seen as a radical adaptation of the paradoxical definition of a `form that is, of what is not' in Plato's Sophist (258 D 5-7) and as a deliberate correction of Aristotle's unsuccessful attempt at including female desire in an analysis of privation in the Physics (i 9, 192 a 22-25). Only when the debt to Plato and Aristotle has been recognised for what it is are we able to appreciate that matter defined as `non-being' is not therefore `non-existent', and that the `privation' that is matter is not a terminus a quo of change, but a permanent substrate of change. The adaptation and the daring syncretism lead to deliberate paradox in Plotinus' own definition of matter as both `so to speak a form of sorts' and `formless' (I 8 [51] 3). The seeming inconsistency is Plotinus' acknowledgment of the use he has made of earlier ideas when he writes of matter, so defined, as `made' by a lower manifestation of soul, and therefore as the last and the least of the products flowing from, but not created by, the One. (shrink)

Plato tries to explain the becoming of the cosmos by referring to the concepts of order and disorder. Scholars have usually focused on the relationship between the cosmos and the demiurge that Plato puts forward to explain the reasonable development. Along these lines, scholarship has examined the providential role played by both the demiurge and the soul of the world. Yet, an interesting prob­lem still remains open: what exactly is the function of disorder? What is the sense of the concept (...) of a perfectly established order if we do not know the manner in which it is achieved, since we have no understand­ing of the conditions that make it possible? Pursuing this line of thought, one may point to a providential role of the disorder given the balance of forces that operates in Plato’s cosmic becoming. (shrink)

While the metaphysical aspects of Proclus' theory of evil have recently been studied by a number of scholars, its ethical implications have largely been neglected. In my paper I am analysing the moral consequences that Proclus' concept of evil has, at the same time using the ethical perspective to throw more light on Proclus' ontology. Most importantly, I argue that the difference between bodily and psychic evil is much more substantial that it might seem from On the Existence of Evils (...) alone. Though both kinds of evil are characterized by their 'parasitical existence' , evil in bodies is unavoidable, resulting from a wide network of cosmic corporeal interactions that no partial being can ever have control of. Psychic evil, on the other hand, is a product of human choice and is independent of external circumstances, depending wholly on the soul's ability to keep its proper vertical hierarchy. In this regard it is evil in a much more serious sense of the word, being actively caused rather than just passively suffered. In the last section of my paper I throw further light on this more dangerous kind of evil, showing it as resulting from an essential bi-dimensionality of human beings. (shrink)