Continuing the introductory blog to the question: "What is a human being?", that is “What is a zôon logon echôn?“, this blog tries to answer the question by unfolding the meaning of the expression “logos“.

To give oneself over to the essence of pain is to give oneself over to the world. Pain is a fact of the world and in accepting this fact, in entering that world, we break with the tradition of metaphysical subjectivity that dates back to the Greek determination of the human as zôon logon echon. For Heidegger, pain is the surest sign that we wholly belong to this world; in fact, pain is nothing other than our contact with the (...) world and our “openness” to it. In what follows I will first present those aspects of Heidegger's view of pain…. (shrink)

En el Nuevo Testamento griego, el término "kalós" (hermoso, bello) aparece 99 veces y el término "agathós" (bueno), 104. Casi con la misma frecuencia. Se ha traducido y se traduce "kalós" por bueno, lo cual no es exacto. Parece importante retener que Cristo hubiera utilizado tantas veces el concepto de belleza o hermosura, y que invitara al hombre a hacer obras hermosas, a realizar la belleza en su vida. Por eso, según el título de este libro (de 285 págs.), se (...) trata de la belleza no solo que corresponde a la persona de Cristo, sino también la que él comunica a las demás personas, la que se refiere a nosotros por ser obras suyas. Jesús habla de obras "kalá" (hermosas), de frutos "kaloùs" (hermosos) o de corazón "kalê kaì agathê" (hermoso y bueno). La Antigüedad griega también hablaba del hombre "kalòkagathós". Es verdad que todo lo bello es bueno, y viceversa, pero hay que matizar. El propio Jesús se autodenomina "kalós", hermoso, al hablar de sí mismo en el Evangelio diciendo que es el pastor bello. Una palabra clave del presente libro es “razonar”. Los Evangelios son muy escuetos, dicen solo lo imprescindible, fueron vertidos además en otro idioma distinto del que habló Jesús. Hay aspectos que no son comprendidos si no se tiene en cuenta lo razonable. Para comprender el Evangelio no basta con atender al estricto dato teológico contenido en sus textos, tan condensados, sino que es preciso hacer al mismo tiempo una sutil labor filosófica que permita descubrir lo que implícitamente se contiene en ellos. Esta necesaria tarea —liberada de todo fundamentalismo— muestra lo que es más razonable para saber quién y cómo es Cristo. Por ello el libro lleva como subtítulo "Una comprensión filosófica del Evangelio". Y lo hace sirviéndose principalmente de la filosofía de Marías y Ortega, lo cual —a pesar de ser el instrumento intelectual que mejor permite comprender el Cristianismo— no se había realizado todavía. Gracias a ese método, lo primero que se comprende es precisamente la extraordinaria belleza de Cristo y la que comunica a sus discípulos y a quien se hace su servidor, llamado por San Pablo "kalòs", hermoso. Circula la idea, incluso en algunos ambientes católicos, de que la razón y, por supuesto, la filosofía no son aptas para comprender el Evangelio. Este libro, más filosófico que teológico, reivindica el insoslayable papel de la razón, de la filosofía, de lo razonable, para comprender los Evangelios, y debe leerse como un "ensayo de Cristología según la razón vital". Sus consideraciones están hechas a la luz de la razón. No de la razón abstracta, propia del racionalismo, que poco o nada tiene que ver con ella, sino de la razón vital; de la razón sin más. De la razón que conduce a la fe; de la fe que conduce a la razón. El dato histórico, irrefragable, de los cuatro Evangelios postulaba que se estudiara iluminándolo con la razón, sin la cual la fe queda mutilada y coja, abstracta, sin luz propia. Pero la razón había sido frecuentemente vista en ámbitos clericales con malos ojos, con cierta sospecha, sin darse cuenta de que, si es auténtica —y no algo reduccionista—, ilumina, clarifica, disipa las tinieblas. Especialmente porque, en última instancia, la razón procede del Logos, Cristo, la Luz, la Razón por antonomasia, fuente y origen de ella. En el Prólogo de San Juan se unen la razón y la vida; se trata no de una razón abstracta, sino vital. El "Lógos" es entonces la Razón vital. Lejos de ser enemiga de la vida, como sostenían los irracionalistas, la razón es una función vital. Quien recibe al "Lógos" con fe fundada en el amor debe esforzarse por intentar entenderlo con la razón, por buscar su inteligencia. El "Lógos", Cristo, ilumina a quien lo recibe para que se produzca esa comprensión. Los griegos definían al hombre como "zôon lógon échon", el viviente que tiene logos, que tiene razón. Cristo se presenta como el Logos, la Vida ("Zoé") que ha creado a su imagen y semejanza a ese viviente que tiene logos. Luego la razón no se debe subestimar o despreciar, es algo divino; Dios, fuente y origen de toda razón, la Razón misma, desea ser comprendido mediante ella, depositada en cada hombre. «Si la Sabiduría es Dios, el verdadero filósofo es el que ama a Dios», escribe San Agustín. Porque el filósofo es el que ama la Sabiduría, Dios. Jesús dice que «la Sabiduría se ha justificado por sus obras», que «la Sabiduría se ha justificado por todos sus hijos». Los hijos de la Sabiduría, de Cristo, la aman, la justifican, la acreditan, la razonan porque son filósofos. Y la filosofía, el amor a la Sabiduría, es absolutamente necesaria e imprescindible para comprender a Cristo y su Evangelio, que siempre enseña lo razonable. (shrink)

This chapter summarizes Aristotle's teaching about human nature. It reviews passages about human beings from his treatises on logic, psychology, ethics, politics, and biology, and discusses his famous characterizations of man as a rational and political animal (zoon logon echon; zoon politikon). It is argued that while Aristotle insists on the distinctive methods and varying reliability of different disciplines, his teachings about human nature can integrate into a unified picture. The notorious disputes among his interpreters about his stand on (...) the immortality of the soul (or of one of its parts, the 'nous poietikos'), however, find their roots in the fact that Aristotle is vague and tentative in these more speculative bits of his anthropological thoughts. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:For More than One Voice: Toward a Philosophy of Vocal ExpressionSarah K. Burgess and Stuart J. MurrayFor More than One Voice: Toward a Philosophy of Vocal Expression. Adriana Cavarero. Trans. Paul A. Kottman. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2005. Pp. 262. $65.00, hardcover; $24.95, paperback.Adriana Cavarero's most recent book, For More than One Voice, offers the reader a critique of Western metaphysics that challenges the hegemony of speech's relation (...) to thought within politics. Revisiting Aristotle's Politics, Cavarero examines the famous definition of man as "zoon logon echon"—usually translated as "rational animal." She is critical of the tradition that renders logos here as "reason" or "rationality," modeled on the abstract and disembodied Platonic idea. Reading the Politics alongside the Poetics, she brings politics into a distinctly rhetorical sphere, and therefore figures logos as "phone semantike." In this light, man is a "speaking animal," an animal who speaks with a voice (phone) that is meaningful (semantike—an adjectival form that qualifies the voice itself). Cavarero's argument is that voice and meaning—phonic and semantic—must be sharply distinguished. The history of Western philosophy, she contends, has effaced this vital difference and focused instead on speech as a unitary phenomenon in which the vocalic and the semantic are always already joined as meaningful signification. In this way, the singularity of the vocalic itself has been elided in favor of speech that strongly privileges meaning. She therefore wishes to deliver us from language, as it were, through a recuperation of the force of the vocalic, the acoustic, the resonant and sonorous auditory quality of phone.Absent in the history of Western philosophy, this sonorous aspect of the vocalic stands as a corrective to our logocentric metaphysical tradition that singularly values the visual over the acoustic, semantic content over vocal utterances, and an abstract, anonymous "what" over a particular, embodied "who." Cavarero claims that the vocalic is an "anti-metaphysical" force that exceeds and challenges signification. In other words, the vocalic immediately communicates the uniqueness of the speaker without recourse to the signifying content of his or her speech. The voice is essentially relational—a relation that is described as "the condition of every communication.... the communicability of the communicable, or the significance of signification" (29). Indeed, for Cavarero the voice is that which "precedes, generates, and exceeds verbal communication" [End Page 166] (29–30). In this way, remarkably, Cavarero refigures the voice as a presymbolic origin that is both temporally and ontologically prior to signification, as that which is a condition of possibility for signification, and as that which is never exhausted by any signifying speech act as such.The voice is the expression of one unique, embodied individual to another. This expression, a "reciprocal invocation" founded in the sonorous, rhythmic, and resonant materiality of the voice, constitutes a "duet," a musical exchange of voices in and through which individuals mutually invoke one another. Cavarero resists inscribing such a relation within the symbolic realm; yet for her this relation is a "wordless language" that takes place in the paradigmatic scene between mother and infant. Here, in this originary scene, there is not yet the movement of language or speech as such, but the rhythm and cadence of demand and response—the voices of mother and infant that invoke one another. Drawing on Hélène Cixous's and Julia Kristeva's well-known work on the maternal chora, Cavarero demonstrates that the cadence of the "la-la melody" exchanged between mother and infant "configure[s] a reciprocal dependence" (170) that takes a structural form in the movement between demand and response.For Cavarero, the "scene of infancy" enjoys a primacy: it is both ontologically and chronologically prior to the institution of language and law. The maternal chora is figured as that which invisibly underwrites what will be understood as the law of the father—a law that is said to mark the inauguration of language. But if the law of the father is rational and semantic, the maternal should not be conceived as simply irrational and pure sound. For Cavarero, the maternal vocalic demonstrates its own reason through its rhythmic and musical resonance... (shrink)

Heidegger’s thinking of the human way to be unavoidably concerns itself with a distinctive human possibility of being. It is argued here that the early Heidegger, who engaged Aristotle’s philosophy via what Heidegger calls “phenomenological interpretations,” learns from Aristotle’s method of definition but goes beyond it to conceive the idea of possibility—Dasein’s being-possible (Seinkönnen)—differently. It is reasonable to argue that the early Heidegger accomplishes a productive interpretation of Aristotle in this case while being indebted to Aristotle’s understanding of ‘definition’ as (...) both “genuinely indicative” and “indeterminate.” Despite Aristotle’s ontological commitment to a metaphysics of presence (Anwesenheit) with its linkage of “possibility-actuality” (“dunamis-energeia/entelecheia”), Heidegger appreciates that there remains an important possibility of phenomenological interpretation in both Aristotle’s concept of zóon lógon echon and the expression ‘tò tí en einai’. This interpretive move is discussed here. (shrink)

It is often pointed out that Agamben’s most profound disagreement with Hannah Arendt is his rejection of anything like a “right to have rights” that would guarantee the belonging to a political space. I want to suggest, however, that the subject of rights in Agamben’s thought is more complicated, arguing in this essay that Agamben’s critique is not with the concept of human rights per se, but with the declaration of modern rights. In other words, this essay will explore how (...) Agamben’s analysis of language, especially vis-à-vis the figure standing outside the gates of the city, allows for rethinking the subject of rights. This analysis suggests that when thinking the notion of right, we must move from the declaration of right rooted in logos to the material dimension of language that makes such a declaration possible. Calling into question Aristotle’s claim that the human being is political because the human being is zoon logon echon, Agamben’s analysis shows that there is no place where the “I” can transform itself into speech. There is always a “non-place” of articulation that is not something outside the polis, but at the very heart of the polis itself. This non-place marks the exposure of the human as such. Following Agamben, I argue that human rights are not declared, but are exposed in our very appearance, our very being-manifest. I argue that our being-manifest provides for a new notion of human rights, rooted in the ontological condition of appearance that carries with it the right of exposure, without identity, to appear. In conclusion, I consider the relation of language and law in Agamben’s thought, asking whether Agamben’s critique of the juridical and his call for a politics without law preclude any resurrection of human rights? (shrink)

Le dernier Lyotard se détournerait de toute apparence du politique vers l’enfance et l’écriture. Et pourtant, nous essayons de montrer qu’à force d’approfondir la question du différend, du « différend même », de la phrase-affect et d’élaborer le rapport entre phonè et logos, Lyotard se retrouve encore et toujours à la racine du politique (chez Aristote, chez Hobbes), là où zoon politikon et zoon echon logon nous posent encore des questions, là où se trouve l’origine du langage, au plus (...) près de ce qu’une « nature » nous réserve encore de surprises. (shrink)

This is an introductory blog to the question: "What is a human being?".