Symposium, the Apology, and the Allegory of the Cave

I’ll admit: I approached this with the usual dread of ‘classic philosophy’—expecting stiff prose and a narrator who sounds like a somnambulant professor. Instead, Jonathan Cowley’s performance is a revelation. His Socrates in the *Apology* is particularly brilliant: that slight rasp in his voice when he needles Meletus, the way his tone shifts from playful to steel-spined as the jury’s verdict looms. You *believe* this is a man choosing death over silence. The *Symposium*, meanwhile, feels like eavesdropping on a raucous dinner party. Cowley gives each philosopher a distinct cadence—Aristophanes’ comic timing is *chef’s kiss*, and Alcibiades’ drunken speech about Socrates’ virtues crackles with charisma. Even the *Allegory of the Cave*, which can feel abstract on the page, gains urgency here; the narrator’s hushed awe as the prisoner sees the sun for the first time sells the moment. That said, two nits: First, the *Symposium*’s transitions between speakers can be jarring—some breaths or subtle audio cues would help separate the voices. Second, the *Allegory*’s excerpt feels abrupt; a 30-second intro to contextualize its place in *The Republic* would’ve been kind to newcomers. But these are quibbles. The real triumph is how Cowley makes 2,400-year-old text feel *alive*. The production is clean, the pacing judicious (no rushed philosophizing here), and the selection of works is genius—three wildly different modes of Plato (erotic dialogue, courtroom drama, metaphysical parable) that showcase his range. If you’ve ever bounced off Plato in print, this audiobook might just convert you.