Tolstoy writes in a letter to his friend A. A. Fet that what he has written in War and Peace, “especially in the epilogue,” is also said by Schopenhauer in The World as Will and Representation. Tolstoy adds, however, that Schopenhauer approaches “it from the other side.” Schopenhauer does indeed say much the same thing as Tolstoy says in his epilogue and elsewhere about history and the will. Each of these authors argues that history is not progressing and that it (...) is not governed by the actions of individual political or military leaders alone, but by the infinitely many actions of the multitude of people. What underlies this critique of history in each case is a quietist outlook on life, a perspective from which one must abandon the assertion of the will and accept life as it is given. Tolstoy's quietism, however, is a happy quietism; he wants his reader to joyfully embrace life for all that it has to offer. Schopenhauer's is an unhappy quietism; he wants his reader to accept life in the face of all that it is not. Thus, Tolstoy and Schopenhauer approach quietism, and consequently their critiques of history and the will, from different “sides.” These sides—to borrow Wittgenstein's way of speaking—are the sides of the happy and the unhappy. To approach quietism from one side rather than another is no small matter. In Tolstoy's case in particular, it made all the difference in the world. (shrink)

Tolstoy’s writings were clearly important to Wittgenstein. He carried Tolstoy’s The Gospel in Brief with him during the war, and he said that it ‘virtually kept [him] alive’. But commentators have hesitated to extend Tolstoy’s influence to Wittgenstein’s philosophy. This essay argues that there are important parallels in structure and content between Tolstoy’s A Confession and Wittgenstein’s Tractatus which suggest Tolstoy’s influence and which help us to see how we should understand the Tractatus. By comparing these two works we can (...) see more clearly in the Tractatus the idea that the solution to philosophical problems lies in their disappearance and that the structure and content of the Tractatus are expressions of that conception. (shrink)

This essay is the journal editor's introduction to part 3 of an ongoing symposium on quietism. With reference to writings of James Joyce, Francis Picabia, J. M. Coetzee, Charles Taylor, Alasdair MacIntyre, Elaine Pagels, and Karen King—and with extended reference to Jonathan Lear's study of “cultural devastation,” Radical Hope—Jeffrey Perl explores the possibility that the fear of anomie is misplaced. He argues that, in comparison with the violence and narrowness of any given social order, anomie may well be preferable, and, (...) in any case, may be no more than another name for quietism. (shrink)

This essay is the journal editor's introduction to part 3 of an ongoing symposium on quietism. With reference to writings of James Joyce, Francis Picabia, J. M. Coetzee, Charles Taylor, Alasdair MacIntyre, Elaine Pagels, and Karen King—and with extended reference to Jonathan Lear's study of “cultural devastation,” Radical Hope—Jeffrey Perl explores the possibility that the fear of anomie (“anomiphobia”) is misplaced. He argues that, in comparison with the violence and narrowness of any given social order, anomie may well be preferable, (...) and, in any case, may be no more than another name for quietism. (shrink)

Most people are acquainted with the abuse of language that is involved in political propaganda. They accept that even in the best of times politicians aim, in part, to deceive their listeners, to put a good face on the worst of failures, to play down the successes of their opponents. In a general way, political language aims to guide people's perceptions of conditions and events in a way that is favourable to the interests of a politician and his party, interests (...) which may or may not be consistent with the interest of his listeners. Such language is not meant to engender consideration of issues, but rather to free them from the burden of consideration. In the worst of times there is little or no interest in the fidelity between a speaker and his words and between words and things. The accuracy of language is abandoned in favour of its effect; truth is subordinated to ambition. (shrink)

Most people are acquainted with the abuse of language that is involved in political propaganda. They accept that even in the best of times politicians aim, in part, to deceive their listeners, to put a good face on the worst of failures, to play down the successes of their opponents. In a general way, political language aims to guide people's perceptions of conditions and events in a way that is favourable to the interests of a politician and his party, interests (...) which may or may not be consistent with the interest of his listeners. Such language is not meant to engender consideration of issues, but rather to free them from the burden of consideration. In the worst of times there is little or no interest in the fidelity between a speaker and his words and between words and things. The accuracy of language is abandoned in favour of its effect; truth is subordinated to ambition. (shrink)

The works of Ludwig Wittgenstein are notoriously difficult to interpret because of the peculiarity of their style and content. They are fragmentary and aphoristic. They are in some respects very personal. They treat philosophical problems as things to be overcome rather than solved. Wittgenstein indicates that their point is ethical. In an age when philosophy has primarily conceived of itself as systematic, scientific and objective these features of Wittgenstein's works appear as oddities. Commentators have frequently ignored the peculiarities of Wittgenstein's (...) works and have read the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus and the Philosophical Investigations as contributing unproblematically to contemporary philosophical debates. ;If, however, we read Wittgenstein's works alongside of the confessions of Augustine and Tolstoy we can see them as contributions to a mostly forgotten genre of philosophical writing, namely, philosophical confession. In this way we can see more clearly that the aim of Wittgenstein's writing is transformation rather than philosophical doctrine and we can see the various peculiarities of his works as contributing to that conception of philosophy. Philosophical problems, for him, are the illusions of language and are therefore problems which are attached to the first-person point of view and problems of will rather than of intellect. The style of his writing is a response to the demands of this conception. ;The first chapter demonstrates that Wittgenstein read and took very seriously the works of Augustine and Tolstoy. It then brings out features of their confessions which are essential to understanding the form and content of Wittgenstein's works. The second chapter interprets the Tractatus in the light of Tolstoy's A Confession. The third chapter interprets the Investigations in the light of Augustine's Confessions. The fourth chapter suggests how we should understand the ethical dimension of Wittgenstein's works given their confessional character. In the concluding postscript, I briefly suggest how this discussion of Wittgenstein's works as confessional could be seen a contribution to a wider discussion of what sort of writing is legitimately philosophical. (shrink)