236
Theaet. It is to be so called.
236
Str. Now then, what shall we call that which appears, because it is seen from an unfavorable position, to be like the beautiful, but which would not even be likely to resemble that which it claims to be like, if a person were able to see such large works adequately? Shall we not call it, since it appears, but is not like, an appearance?
236
Theaet. Certainly.
236
Str. And this is very common in painting and in all imitation?
236
Theaet. Of course.
236
Str. And to the art which produces appearance, but not likeness, the most correct name we could give would be fantastic art, would it not?
236
Theaet. By all means.
236
Str. These, then, are the two forms of the image-making art that I meant, the likeness-making and the fantastic.
236
Theaet. You are right.
236
Str. But I was uncertain before in which of the two the sophist should be placed, and even now I cannot see clearly. The fellow is really wonderful and very difficult to keep in sight, for once more, in the very cleverest manner he has withdrawn into a baffling classification where it is hard to track him.
236
Theaet. So it seems.
236
Str. Do you assent because you recognize the fact, or did the force of habit hurry you along to a speedy assent?
236
Theaet. What do you mean, and why did you say that?
236
Str. We are really, my dear friend, engaged in a very difficult investigation; for the matter of appearing and seeming, but not being, and of saying things, but not true ones—all this is now and always has been very perplexing. You see, Theaetetus, it is extremely difficult to understand how a man is to say or think that falsehood really exists and in saying this not be involved in contradiction.
237
Theaet. Why?