The differences in the concept of mimesis and its implications between Plato and Aristotle

Let us begin with a paradoxical assertion: that Plato, in his sublime wandering, rises above the prosaic vision of Socrates, transfiguring mimesis into a more abstract, more elusive dream. Socrates, with his typical shortsightedness toward utility, saw beauty as a reflection of function, a sort of pragmatic justification for excellence. Art, therefore, was a slave to defects, correction, and sterile ideality.
Plato, on the other hand, in a gesture of bold transcendence, lifts beauty into the realm of pure ideas, into the Hyperuranion, that domain of the eternal and divine, where everything is immutable, incorporeal, untouchable by our miserable condition. Here, beauty withdraws from the petty game of empirical selection, becoming a reminiscence of the soul, an echo of pre-incarnate knowledge.
And Plato dares further: he defines beauty as the “splendor of truth.” Not merely a distinction but an epiphany of the Good, of Truth, a suspended bridge between knowledge and essence. In his view, art does not imitate but reveals; it does not replicate but transcends, in a gesture that is almost a prayer, a drowning in truth.
Aristotle, with his earthly wisdom, diverges. For him, mimesis is breath, it is nature, it is the very essence of humanity. Art, for Aristotle, is not an escape but a grounding, a dialogue with the universal hidden in the everyday. In his Poetics, art becomes confession, psychoanalysis, a theater of our darkest truths, where catharsis is purification, an exorcism of our fears and passions.
In conclusion, Plato elevates mimesis to a celestial bridge toward a world of ideas, of elusive truths, where beauty is the revelation of truth and goodness. Aristotle, however, sees it as exploration, as introspection, a way to navigate the storm of the human condition.

Reflection: Mimesis and the Deformation of Identity

Now let us imagine Plato, alien and uneasy in our century, gazing perplexed at the illusory theater of social media, that modern Platonic cave. There, identity is no more than a shadow on the wall, a fiction, a simulacrum that denies itself. Avatars and curated images are nothing but Apollonian mimesis, an appearance that renounces the true self, a hyperbole of reality, an escape from essence.
In our digital world, identity becomes a representation, a distant echo of the true self.
Like a story telling itself, an illusion that perpetuates, in line with Dennett’s theory of consciousness—a “narrative center” where what we are becomes what we say we are (1). Social media, in this logic, become reality distorters, self-disassemblers, builders of a parallel reality that erodes authenticity.
But there is also an echo of Aristotle in this scenario, a mimesis that could, through digital experience, reveal deeper truths about our human nature. The web as a space of catharsis, of emotional expression, a virtual square where the self may find, perhaps, its truth.
However, immersion in this sea of others’ realities risks obscuring the perception of ourselves, deforming the narrative of our being. Chalmers, with his emphasis on the phenomena of consciousness, on the qualitative aspects of experience, reminds us that social media can alter our experiences, subtly but deeply shaping our lived reality (2).
In this digital labyrinth, it becomes crucial to teach, especially the younger generations, to distinguish between reality and representation, to understand how our personal stories are shaped and transformed. This awareness, reminiscent once again of Dennett’s narrative consciousness, is an antidote to illusion, an invitation to create online spaces where authenticity reigns, where identity is no longer a mask but a sincere expression of the self.

Some clarifications beyond the reflection, outside the reflection

When I speak of Socrates’ “shortsightedness toward utility,” I refer to his tendency to evaluate beauty in terms of functionality and practical utility.
For Socrates, beauty is not an abstract or transcendent concept, but something that can be defined and understood through its purpose or function in a practical context.
In other words, what is beautiful is what is useful, effective, or suited to its purpose.
I interpret this approach as limited or shortsighted because it focuses only on pragmatic and tangible aspects, neglecting deeper, spiritual, or philosophical dimensions of beauty, which in this view is reduced to a kind of practical justification for excellence.
The use of the term “psychoanalysis” in relation to Aristotle’s thought is undoubtedly anachronistic, considering that psychoanalysis can only be discussed from Freud onwards.
Perhaps I have overstretched the metaphor. Let me clarify: for Aristotle, mimesis in art is not mere imitation, but a profound process of reflection and understanding of human reality.
Could this vision be compared to the goal of psychoanalysis, which aims to explore and understand the hidden aspects of the psyche?
In Aristotle’s Poetics, art assumes a role similar to that of a psychoanalytic tool, serving as a means to express, explore, and ultimately understand the hidden truths and internal conflicts of human beings.
In conclusion, when I refer to art as “confession” and “psychoanalysis,” I mean that through art, individuals can express and confront feelings, thoughts, and experiences that would otherwise remain unexpressed or misunderstood. This process led me by analogy to psychoanalysis, where the patient explores and speaks of repressed thoughts and feelings, often discovering hidden truths about themselves.