Abstract

This reading of Heidegger’s reading of the history of philosophy divides into three unequal parts. The first section glosses Heidegger’s construal of philosophy from Plato to Nietzsche as the metaphysics of presence, as ontotheology, as Being’s own historic destiny, a destiny of Seinsvergessenheit; and it glosses Heidegger’s construal from within the standard canons of historiography, from the perspective of today’s conventional wisdom. In brief and unsurprisingly, viewed from the strict constructionist standpoint—viewed as a “straight” reading of philosophy’s history—Heidegger’s interpretation cannot stand. The fact that it is an historical misreading proves to be stunningly uninteresting, however, and fails to account for its influence. So an altogether different approach to Heidegger’s reading is proposed in the second section of this paper. Turning the historical tables, the tables of influence, Heidegger’s appropriation of the tradition, his deconstruction of it, is construed—in Bloom’s terms—as poetic misprision, as a strong misreading, one which responds to its own imperatives. The temptation to construe the straight reading /strong misreading distinction as like the “historical” vs. “philosophical” distinction in reading the history of philosophy is entertained briefly. It is later urged that we give up altogether the distinction in kind between historical and philosophical readings of the history of philosophy; for that distinction makes sense only if we accept the picture of philosophy as an enterprise whose business it is to confront a reasonably fixed list of issues within a timeless neutral matrix: To give up this picture is to give up the distinction at the same time. These two readings of Heidegger—strict constructionist straight reading and deconsructionist strong misreading—appear irreconcilable; so an attempt is made in section III to trope this difference in readings. Specifically, the incommensurability of the two perspectives, the two readings of philosophy’s history, is analyzed in terms of the difference between normal and abnormal discourse. Abnormal discourse, like Kuhn’s “revolutionary science,” may well be tomorrow’s normal discourse; but in exploring this suggestion further some important points of contrast between Kuhnian and Heideggerian readings emerge. In Kuhn’s reading of, for example, the history of science the question whether the normal science of the day is to be supplanted by the new paradigm may be decided by a complex gestalt-switch, a reorientation occasioned by anomalous cases, a reexamination of data hitherto ruled out by the discourse of the day. Kuhn’s “revolutionary” paradigms drive practitioners back upon data; but Heidegger’s metahistorical reading of the history of philosophy does not drive us back to data, back to the texts. This raises the question of the sense in which Heidegger’s abnormal discourse ever could become normal discourse, ever could function as a new paradigm. I conclude, with Rorty, that Heidegger’s metahistory of philosophy cannot be institutionalized as some abnormal discourse can and that, in consequence, Heideggerians who approach the history of philosophy as if he had found the key to unlock its mysteries—or its horrors, if you prefer—are confused about Heidegger’s discourse, confused about its possibilities in a way that he himself was not.