From the perspective of Heilsgeschichte, Gerhard von Rad saw clearly that Genesis 22 deals with the possible annihilation of the covenant promise. A fresh approach to Genesis corroborates this view and demonstrates that innerbiblical exegesis has shaped the message of Genesis 22.

The author upends traditional understandings of this controversial narrative through a phenomenological midrash or interpretation of Genesis 22 from the Dialogic and Jewish philosophies of Franz Rosenzweig, Martin Buber, and, most notably, Emmanuel Levinas. He intersects Jewish studies, Biblical studies, and philosophy in a literary/midrashic style that challenges traditional Western philosophical epistemology. Through the biblical narrative of Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, and Rebecca, he explains that Rosenzweig, Buber, and Levinas Judaically exercise and offer an alternative epistemic orientation to the study (...) of ethics than that of traditional Western or Hellenic-Christian philosophy. (shrink)

In <I>The Unbinding of Isaac, Stephen J. Stern upends traditional understandings of this controversial narrative through a phenomenological midrash or interpretation of Genesis 22 from the Dialogic and Jewish philosophies of Franz Rosenzweig, Martin Buber, and, most notably, Emmanuel Levinas. With great originality, Dr. Stern intersects Jewish studies, Biblical studies, and philosophy in a literary/midrashic style that challenges traditional Western philosophical epistemology. Through the biblical narrative of Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, and Rebecca, Dr. Stern explains that Rosenzweig, Buber, and Levinas (...) Judaically exercise and offer an alternative epistemic orientation to the study of ethics than that of traditional Western or Hellenic-Christian philosophy. <I>The Unbinding of Isaac makes the works of these three thinkers accessible to those outside philosophy and Jewish studies while also introducing readers to the playfulness of how Jewish tradition midrashically addresses the Bible. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Model for the Many Senses of ScriptureFrom the Literal to the Spiritual in Genesis 22 with Thomas AquinasChristopher S. Morrissey (bio)Introduction: Many Senses Require Many TranslationsOn the mountain the Lord appeared (NETS, Gen. 22:14b)On the mount of the LORD it shall be provided (RSV)1In the mount of the LORD it shall be seen (KJV)On the mountain the LORD will see (NAB)ἐν τῷ ὄρει κύριος ὤφθη (LXX)in monte (...) Dominus videtur (Nova Vulgata)in monte Dominus videbit (St. Jerome’s Vulgate)In his book Abraham’s Curse, Bruce Chilton argues that in Gen. 22:14b, “the Septuagint’s Greek renders the Hebrew text” correctly (i.e., “with Yahweh as the subject of the verb”), whereas English translations like the King James Version (KJV) prefer to imply that the ram is the verbal subject. Chilton contends that “This is a case of translators caring more about doctrine than wording, and attempting to legislate what the Bible can say.”2Chilton’s textual exegesis does have some value. He notes that “Contextually [End Page 231] as well as grammatically, God is the subject: Yahweh ‘was seen’ on Moriah, liberating Isaac by means of divine intervention.”3 But with his polemics against the KJV, he fails to affirm the rich polysemy of the passage. He replaces one literal reading with another and then argues as if the two are at odds. But Scripture has many senses, a truth famously expressed in the medieval distich of Augustine of Dacia, best known in the version of Nicholas of Lyra: “The literal sense teaches what happened; what you believe, the allegorical; the moral, what you should do; where you are going, the anagogical.”4 Therefore Chilton is wrong to impute bad motives to anyone who would attempt to unfold the spiritual sense of a passage (“caring more about doctrine”), or even to anyone who would note that a passage has more than one literal meaning.Chilton’s own insistence on uncovering the univocal original meaning of a passage (through his preferred historical method of “generative exegesis”)5 is excessively literal, as if recourse to grammar would allow one “to legislate what the Bible can say.” When Chilton says “Yahweh ‘was seen’ on Moriah,” he is not contending that God was seen directly, literally, but rather interpreting the metaphorical or parabolical sense of the phrase “Yahweh was seen” (in Gen. 22:14b), because he glosses the meaning of the metaphor as “liberating Isaac by means of divine intervention”;6 that is, God is seen indirectly, cognitively, rather than literally with the eyes. Because literally seeing a ram is not opposed to cognitively understanding God’s action, the KJV, pace Chilton, can be defended contextually. To my mind, the Revised Standard Version (RSV), echoing the KJV, does the best job of rendering the Hebrew text literally, with “On the mount of the lord it shall be provided,” because this leaves open the many senses of the third person singular “it,” to be unfolded by exegesis. Thus more than one translation is required in order to appreciate all the significations being deployed in the treatment of “seeing” in Gen. 22:8 and 22:14. “It shall be provided”: More than one univocal sense of the “it” has to be uncovered by exegesis in this Scripture, in order to see what “it” is all about.To justify my opinion that the RSV most felicitously translates the Hebrew, I would like to prepare the way to a conclusion in which I compare the Septuagint’s translation (which follows Chilton’s preferred rendering of the context) with the Vulgate Latin translations. The path toward this conclusion will show that Chilton’s polemics, indicative of an exegetical attitude that is hostile to an appreciation of the many senses of Scripture, fail to see how the RSV translation is also defensible as keeping the reader’s mind open to the many senses of the Scriptural passage. But first things first. With the help of St. Thomas Aquinas, let me distinguish the various senses of Scripture and then point out how they are all exemplified here, all being signified by the text. [End Page 232] Click for larger view View... (shrink)

The obedience leitmotif complements the tension centered in the sacrifice and enables the good news of Isaac's salvation to stand as a reaffirmation of the patriarchal promise.

Due to the influence of Christian philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, modern Jewish readings of the Aqedah, or “binding of Isaac” (Gen 22:1–19), tend to understand the story in terms of a conflict between divine command and human ethics. Drawing on both biblical and extrabiblical evidence, this article argues that the conflict in the story is more plausibly understood as one between divine command and covenantal promise. Despite not being about theological ethics in the usual sense, this interpretation may still have Jewish (...) meaning if we situate it in the realm of theodicy. (shrink)

The article explores Søren Kierkegaard's interpretation of Abraham's paradoxical obedience (Genesis 22). It does so on the basis of five scenic narrations told by Kierkegaard in Fear and Trembling, and in his late Journals. Jacques Derrida is found to focus on similar points in his Gift of Death: especially on the suspension of ethics by religion and on the concepts of offering as well as of responsibility. Derrida claims that human responsibility is always tied to what he calls universal (...) offering to a radical other. The article argues that both the late Kierkegaard and Derrida exaggerate the inexplicability of the religious situation, each of them in his own way, and that the distinction between religion, ethics, and human responsibility is to be maintained (against Derrida), together with awe before the incommensurability of the single individual. /// O presente artigo investiga a interpretação kierkegaardiana acerca da paradoxal obediência de Abraão descrita no capítulo 22 do Livro do Génesis. Para a elaboração do respectivo argumento, o artigo baseia-se em cinco elementos narrativos incluídos na obra Temor e Tremor, bem como nos Diários, de Søren Kierkegaard Salienta-se também o facto de Jacques Derrida, na sua obra Donner la mort, insistir nos mesmos pontos atinentes a Kierkegaard, nomeadamente os relativos à suspensão da ética pela religião, bem como nos conceitos de doação e de responsabilidade. Derrida, com efeito, defende que a responsabilidade humana está sempre ligada àquilo que ele considera ser uma doação universal a um outro radical. O artigo considera que tanto o último Kierkegaard como Derrida exageram no que se refere à inexplicabilidade da situação religiosa, cada um deles num modo que lhe é próprio, e afirma que a distinção entre religião, ética e responsabilidade humana deve ser preservada, ao contrário do que diz Derrida, juntamente com a admiração devida diante da incomensurabilidade do indivíduo em sua singularidade. (shrink)

The community of faith finds blessing for itself when it gives due weight to the Old Testament insight that nearness to God is found by those who, like Job and Jacob, assertively engage the Covenant Partner.

The community of faith finds blessing for itself when it gives due weight to the Old Testament insight that nearness to God is found by those who, like Job and Jacob, assertively engage the Covenant Partner.

The Aqedah in Jewish tradition is an alleged theology for the sacrifice of Isaac which has an atoning concept and has influenced the atonement theology of the New Testament (NT), but it has not been proved by the NT. The purpose of this article is to investigate all verses in the NT that are alleged to refer to Abraham’s offering of Isaac. The reflections of Genesis 22 in the NT verses do not grant atoning power to the sacrifice of (...) Isaac. Abraham’s portrait suggests Christ as the Beloved Son, but the vicarious death of Jesus on the Cross is unrelated to Isaac in Genesis 22. Isaac is the type of Christ only in the preparation of death. Jesus as the Tamid lamb (not as the Paschal lamb) refers to Genesis 22 without granting expiation of sin by Isaac. The resurrection motif as well as the promise-fulfilment scheme referring to Genesis 22 also does not validate the Aqedah. Thus, the NT does not assume the Aqedah.Keywords: Aqedah; sacrifice of Isaac; Genesis 22; canonical interpretation; typology; OT-NT relation, Jewish tradition, Jewish influence on the NT. (shrink)

Erwin Panofsky explicitly states that the first half of the opening chapter of Studies in Iconology—his landmark American publication of 1939—contains ‘the revised content of a methodological article published by the writer in 1932’, which is now translated for the first time in this issue of Critical Inquiry.1 That article, published in the philosophical journal Logos, is among his most important works. First, it marks the apogee of his series of philosophically reflective essays on how to do art history,2 that (...) reach back, via a couple of major pieces on Alois Riegl, to the 1915 essay on Heinrich Wölfflin.3 Under the influence of his colleague at Hamburg Ernst Cassirer, the principal interpreter of Kant in the 1920s, Panofsky from 1915 on exhibits in his work ever more Kantian thinking and language.4 But Logos was not an art-historical review or one dedicated to aesthetics but a principal mainstream journal of the philosophy of culture. So ‘On the Problem of Describing and Interpreting Works of the Visual Arts’ has a good claim to be the culmination of Panofsky's philosophical thinking in his German period under the Weimar Republic. · 1. Erwin Panofsky, Studies in Iconology: Humanistic Themes in the Art of the Renaissance , p. xv; hereafter abbreviated SI. See Panofsky, ‘Zum Problem der Beschreibung und Inhaltsdeutung von Werken der bildenden Kunst’, Logos 21 : 103–19; trans. Jaś Elsner and Katharina Lorenz under the title ‘On the Problem of Describing and Interpreting Works of the Visual Arts’, Critical Inquiry 38 : 467–82; hereafter abbreviated ‘P’.· 2. See the discussion in Carlo Ginzburg, ‘From Aby Warburg to E. H. Gombrich: A Problem of Method’, Myths, Emblems, Clues, trans. John and Anne C. Tedeschi , pp. 17–59, esp. pp. 36–41.· 3. See Panofsky, ‘Das Problem des Stils in der bildenden Kunst’, Deutschsprachige Aufsätze, ed. Karen Michels and Martin Warnke, 2 vols. , 2:1009–18; ‘Der Begriff des Kunstwollens’,Deutschsprachige Aufsätze, 2:1019–34, trans. Kenneth J. Northcott and Joel Snyder under the title ‘The Concept of Artistic Volition’, Critical Inquiry 8 : 17–33; and ‘Über das Verhältnis der Kunstgeschichte zur Kunsttheorie: Ein Beitrag zu der Erörterung über die Möglichkeit kunstwissenschaftlicher Grundbegriffe’, Deutschsprachige Aufsätze, 2: 1035–63, trans. Lorenz and Elsner under the title ‘On the Relationship of Art History and Art Theory: Towards the Possibility of a Fundamental System of Concepts for a Science of Art’, Critical Inquiry 35 : 43–71.· 4. On neo-Kantianism in pre-Nazi Germany, see Michael Friedman, A Parting of the Ways: Carnap, Cassirer, and Heidegger , pp. 25–37; Éric Dufour and T. Z. R. Créteil, ‘Le Statue du singulier: Kant et le néokantisme de l’École de Marbourg', Kantstudien 93 : 324–50; Edward Skidelsky, Ernst Cassirer: The Last Philosopher of Culture , pp. 22–51; and Peter E. Gordon, Continental Divide: Heidegger, Cassirer, Davos , pp. 52–86. Specifically on the Cassirerian Kantianism of Panofsky, see Michael Podro, The Critical Historians of Art , pp. 181–82; Michael Ann Holly, Panofsky and the Foundations of Art History , pp. 91–92, 147–52; Silvia Ferretti, Cassirer, Panofsky, and Warburg: Symbol, Art, and History, trans. Richard Pierce , pp. 174–77, 182–84; David Summers, ‘Meaning in the Visual Arts as a Humanistic Discipline’, in Meaning in the Visual Arts: Views from the Outside, ed. Irving Lavin , pp. 9–24; Mark A. Cheetham, Kant, Art, and Art History: Moments of Discipline , pp. 68–77; Paul Crowther, The Transhistorical Image: Philosophizing Art and Its History , pp. 70–73; Allister Neher, ‘“The Concept of Kunstwollen”, Neo-Kantianism, and Erwin Panofsky's Early Art Theoretical Essays', Word and Image 20 : 41–51; Georges Didi-Huberman,Confronting Images: Questioning the Ends of a Certain History of Art, trans. John Goodman , pp. 4–6, 90–138; and Lorenz and Elsner, ‘Translators’ Introduction', Critical Inquiry35 : 33–42, esp. pp. 38, 40–42. (shrink)

Secrecy is a theme in Genesis 22, in Derrida's reading of the story, in which God commands Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. It is about keeping a secret, not secret as in hiding, but rather the secret of an exclusive relationship. This is embarrassing as it is excluding. Accepting this unique relationship by keeping the secret, Abraham demonstrates his willingness to enter into a relationship based on unconditional love. An essential part of this unconditionality and uniqueness is Abraham not referring (...) to anybody or anything outside. He thus takes the responsibility entirely. This may be seen as being centred upon the individual. It may also be seen as a question of taking responsibility, deciding, and taking a stand. Interestingly enough, Abraham must be capable of failing, or in other words he must be capable of deciding not to obey the command. The call is for a unique relationship, but there must be a possibility of not responding to the call. Or, must there? (shrink)

Kierkegaard in Fear and Trembling presents a reductio ad absurdum regarding the time-spans subject to moral evaluation. The text's classic dilemma depends on assuming that we only evaluate discrete, contextless instants. The pseudonymous author constantly seeks the single instant or moral “photograph” that indicates Abraham's status. Doing so, however, extracts scripture's moral legislation out from narrative, resulting in theological paralysis and thereby requiring an alternative temporal vocabulary for evaluating Abraham. Fear and Trembling contains an under-explored alternative that sets Abraham within (...) the covenantal narrative's temporality. The paper explores the consequences of shifting from evaluating instants to evaluating narrative durations, showing that while Genesis 22 remains a challenging episode, it also offers a model of imaginative faith, fidelity to promises, and hope in the face of trauma that focusing on moral instants overlooks. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Murder in the Garden? The Envy of the Gods in Genesis 2 and 3 Paul DuffJoseph Hallman George Washington University University of St. Thomas According to Walter Brueggemann, "No text in Genesis (or likely in the entire Bible) has been more used, interpreted and misunderstood" than the story of Adam and Eve in the garden. "This applies to careless, popular theology as well as to the doctrine (...) of the church"(41). Augustine attempted to explain the first few chapters of Genesis on no fewer than five different occasions throughout his career. Based on his reading ofPaul, Augustine and Western Christianity after him believed that the entire human race inherited the disobedience ofAdam and Eve. The story in Genesis 2-3 represents the beginning ofthe J narrative, the so-called Yahwist account of the creation which originated in the early years ofthe Israelite monarchy.8 Commentators have long acknowledged a variety ofelements in the Yahwist creation account which complicate its interpretation and defy any satisfactory explanation. Among the more puzzling elements in the story are, first, the implication in Gen. 3:22 of a plurality of divine beings, a fact which seems to contradict the rest ofthe narrative and which also flies in the face of Israelite monotheism. Second, according to Gen. 2:17, God threatens Adam with the punishment of 8 The Yahwist document, originally independent, was later combined with three other strands of ancient material to form the Pentateuch. For a recent study ofthe "Documentary Hypothesis," see Richard Friedman. 1 84Paul DuffandJoseph Hallman immediate death for transgressing the deity's prohibition (cf. 3:3, 3:4). God does not carry out the threatened punishment, however, nor does the text offer the reader an explanation for the deity's commutation ofthe sentence (Westermann 224-5). Third, the origin and nature ofthe serpent in the story is unclear. Where did he come from? The identification ofthis figure with Satan in the later tradition has no support in the text (Westermann 237-9). Finally, the prohibition not to eat ofthe single tree in the garden appears to be arbitrary. Hence the crime of Adam and Eve is obviously contrived. Despite the fact that the original sentence of death for their disobedience was not carried out, the curses invoked on Adam and Eve seem hardly warranted by the offense. Consequently, some sections ofthe text depict the deity as a petty tyrant, certainly a very different picture than that given by other scriptures ofthe Jewish and Christian traditions. We believe these difficulties can be overcome by approaching Genesis 2-3 from a Girardian perspective.9 We propose that this story has evolved10 in order to hide its original meaning. As a result—following Girard's understanding of the function and evolution of mythology—we will endeavor to "deconstruct" Genesis 2-3 in order to trace the evolution ofthis myth from its origin in a primal crime. This will enable us to explain the inconsistencies in the text as it stands and to appreciate the final revisions made by the biblical author(s). We will begin with a brief discussion of Girard's understanding ofmyth. Then we will turn to the problems ofthe Genesis text. Girard on myth According to Girard, myth is, quite simply, a narrative about a primal murder, rewritten from the vantage point ofthe killers (1977a, 64-7, 91-5; 1986, 24-44). As such, mythology covers up the role of the victimage mechanism as the basis ofculture. Myths which disguise or cover up such a crime can take many forms. For instance, the foundational murder of an 9 In his recent book on Paul, Robert Hamerton-Kelly presents a Girardian interpretation of this passage which is completely different from ours (92-7). Since Hamerton-Kelly appears to read the myth at face value without a sense of development, he, like most interpreters, ends with somewhat tortuous conclusions. 10It is virtually certain that the account found in Gen. 2 and 3 did not come into being as a free composition of the Yahwist. But, as Claus Westermann has pointed out in his history ofthe exegesis ofthis passage (186-91), despite the fact that most see it as a product of a long... (shrink)

The “story behind the story” of the genesis of this book is an involved and fascinating one. In May the Sven and Dagmar Salén Foundation decided to give a grant to Ulf Lagerqvist to permit publication of his manuscript titled The Bewildered Nobel Committee by the World Scientific Publishing Company . This decision was based on a thorough review by Torbjörn Norin, Professor of Organic Chemistry at the Royal School of Technology in Stockholm and a member of the board (...) of the foundation. Unfortunately, Lagerqvist, a Professor of Biochemistry and Chairman of Medical and Physiological Chemistry at Gothenburg University, Sweden , member of the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences, influential researcher on the metabolism of the components of the nucleic acids in the rapidly developing field of molecular biology, and an outstanding writer popularizing the history of science since his retirement , di .. (shrink)

This chapter addresses the greatest fear about divine commands – that God may command something evil – focusing on a modernized version of Genesis 22, in which Abraham finds it difficult to reject any of the following jointly incompatible beliefs: whatever God commands is not morally wrong to do, God commands me to kill my son as a sacrifice, such human sacrifice is morally wrong. It argues that divine command theorists should not reject but that in any cultural and (...) religious context in which the dilemma can be taken seriously, is the belief to reject. (shrink)

Abraham has played a prominent role in recent developments in phenomenology and, in particular, continental philosophy of religion. This paper examines the importance that the scene of Genesis 22 plays in both Jacques Derrida and Jean-Luc Marion’s contributions to continental philosophy of religion. Specifically, I argue that Derrida and Marion turn to this scene of the binding of Isaac in order to describe the way in which our ethical life is structured religiously around the theme of sacrifice. In this, (...) sacrifice brings an impetus to ethical life that includes a comportment to the other but also extends beyond the other to include the givenness of phenomena themselves. (shrink)

I consider in this essay three possible interpretations of the infinitely rich story of Abraham and Isaac found in Genesis 22. Against the background of what I call "the traditional reading," I compare the views of William Blake, Johannes de Silentio, and Søren Kierkegaard. Blake's poetry and painting suggest a striking alternative to our usual understanding of the story, but they finally require too radical a departure from the Biblical text. The pseudonym de Silentio's views on obedience to God, (...) presented in Fear and Trembling, are even more problematic, however. They are at odds with Kierkegaard's powerful account of love of neighbor, related under his own name in Works of Love, for instance. The God who is Love would not literally require murderous intent toward a neighbor, I conclude, but that same God might issue an "ironic" command designed to lift us out of an abominable ritual. (shrink)

It has long been recognized that Soren Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling is a cryptogram. Encoded within a series of reflections and commentaries on Genesis 22 is a deeper message directed at a reader or readers presumably capable of deciphering the hidden meaning. That this is true is suggested by the book's epigraph: ‘What Tarquinius Superbus said in the garden by means of the poppies, the son understood but the messenger did not.’.

In the recently published Papyrus Bodmer 30 one of the six poems deals with the story of Genesis 22. At many places the poem drastically deviates from the biblical text, and the editors of the papyrus are insufficiently aware of the background of these deviations. In this article the authors demonstrate that almost all of them have their background in a centuries long process of both Jewish and Christian reflection on this biblical chapter. It is the very specific ‘Wirkungsgeschichte’ (...) of Gen. 22 that explains most of the poem’s specifics. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 63.2 (2002) 303-321 [Access article in PDF] "The Peak on Which Abraham Stands": The Pregnant Moment of Søren Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling Lasse Horne Kjaeldgaard When Søren Kierkegaard in the 1840s began his one-man crusade against the predominant philosophy of his time and place—the right Hegelianism that was en vogue among his contemporaries in Copenhagen—he chose his weapons with great circumspection. The indirect (...) form of communication, which he later advocated in more direct terms in his "Point of View," 1 was not only a maieutic means that helped the reader conceive of the latent and strictly private messages of the texts; it was also a strategy for Kierkegaard's undercover assaults on the Hegelian turn of the Geistesleben around him. By interweaving many of the Hegelian platitudes and self-confident pronouncements that circulated in the intellectual life of the day into the pseudonymous writings, Kierkegaard contested them with parody rather than argumentation. This is the local background against which these texts are structured and to which they are addressed in multiple and very subtle ways. That also goes for that of the pseudonymous writings which has become the best known but which may also be regarded as the most private and most secretive of them all, Fear and Trembling, published pseudonymously in 1843.Secrecy, silence, and unspeakable messages are abundantly thematized in Fear and Trembling, as one could expect from the name of the narrator, Johannes de Silentio. Silentio is a prominent member of the choir of pseudonymous figures Kierkegaard invented to communicate indirectly with his audience and in [End Page 303] the name of which he published his most celebrated works. The silence that Silentio speaks of is that of Abraham of the Old Testament, who was commanded by God to sacrifice his only son on Mount Moriah. Although Genesis 22 includes fragments of the dialogue between Abraham and Isaac on their way to the mountain, Silentio insists that Abraham remained silent on the essential issue: the command he acts upon. The unmediated message Abraham had received from God could not be conveyed, and he was therefore barred from communication and bereft of his community as he journeyed to the Mountain. Yet Silentio's discourse upon this silence in Fear and Trembling has given impetus to innumerable pages of commentary. The questions and answers he poses in his reflections upon Abraham's ordeal have called for critical attention and controversy since the time of its publication. His obsession with the biblical narrative certainly seems to have been passed on to many readers of Fear and Trembling, which, a recent commentator has remarked, "continues to haunt us like no other of [Kierkegaard's] writings." 2 So far, it would seem, then, that Kierkegaard was right when he predicted, in an undated journal entry, that "Fear and Trembling will be enough to immortalise my name." It has indeed been "read and translated into foreign languages," as he foresaw it would. 3Even so, what has passed unnoticed in its long history of reception is the significance of the titles that the manuscript text bore before it came to be called Fear and Trembling. On the title page the definitive appellation is placed together with two alternatives with less suggestion of pathos: "Movements and Postures" (Bevægelser og Stillinger) and "Between-each-other" (Mellemhver-andre). 4 Not much can be discerned from these unpeculiar phrases in isolation. However, tracing their history and significance through Kierkegaard's writings and beyond, will make it clear that Fear and Trembling was also dispatched to the narrow Hegelian community in Copenhagen for the purpose of questioning their literary and visual aesthetics and philosophy of history. Into the guerrilla warfare against them Fear and Trembling introduces a weapon of such sophistication that it has remained undetected so far: the power of the "pregnant moment." My aim here will be to demonstrate the way in which Fear and Trembling appropriates a principle of selection intended for the... (shrink)

The rate at which women and girls have been ‘butchered’ in Africa before and during the COVID-19 pandemic suggests that violence against women in patriarchal settings is more tolerable. According to Exodus 21:12, Leviticus 24:17, Deuteronomy 12:312, 2 Kings 17:31 and Isaiah 66:3, murder and human sacrifice are an abomination and defile the land. Unfortunately, it is heartbreaking to note how the murder of women finds justification, as shown in Judges 11:31–40. Ironically, in Genesis 22:13, the sacrifice of Isaac (...) is prevented through the provision of a sacrificial lamb. In this conversational platform, an African women’s hermeneutical lens to Judges 11:31–40 enables one to reimagine female bodies and motherhood as a theological phenomenon. It is proposed that ‘Sharon’s blood’ presents murdered women as Mother Earth’s sacrificial lambs of Africa, whose lives do not go unnoticed by God. Reimagining female bodies and motherhood as a theological phenomenon arguably enables the voices of murdered women to cry for justice from beyond the grave. If ‘the Sharons’ and their unborn babies do not receive justice, the ground continues to be defiled by human blood and remains ‘cursed’ (Mi 6:15). We will plant but not harvest; hence, there is a direct relationship between female bodies, motherhood and Mother Earth. One therefore asks: can scholarly conversational platforms enable murdered women of African descent to cry for justice from beyond the grave, allowing for life to flourish ‘again’? Contribution: This article contributed new knowledge to feminist studies by presenting murdered female victims of gender-based violence (GBV) as the sacrificial lambs of Mother Africa, whose innocent blood continues to cry for justice from beyond the grave. From an African hermeneutical lens, this research article reimagined female bodies and motherhood as a theological phenomenon in order to arguably enable the voices of murdered women to cry for justice from beyond the grave. (shrink)

In this article Troels Norager discusses the subject of sacrifice in the context of Kierkegaard's Works of Love and Fear and Trembling. The first section argues that contrary to contemporary attempts to turn Kierkegaard into a phenomenologist of love, Kierkegaard should be regarded as a radical Christian thinker who (partly for biographical reasons) deliberately emphasized the necessity of being willing to sacrifice one's most precious love object. The second part deals with Abraham's dilemma in Genesis 22 and argues, critically (...) surveying the intriguing interpretation proposed by Ingolf Dalferth, that no credible solution to this deeply troubling story is to be found. In the final section the author ponders the contemporary significance of Abraham's sacrifice and briefly points to insights from eminent political philosophers like Rawls and Habermas. This leads to the conclusion that theology should finally be taking leave of Abraham by rejecting Abraham as the 'Father of faith' and as a paradigm to be emulated. Instead, theologians and philosophers of religion are called upon to embrace our post-secular modernity without surrendering to the demands of authoritarian religion. (shrink)

This book describes how medieval Jewish Bible scholars sought to answer the question of what is meant by the Angel’s message from God to Abraham: ‘Now I Know’, as written in Genesis 22 verse 12. It examines these scholars’ comments on the nineteen verses in Genesis that tell the story of Abraham’s readiness to sacrifice his own son Isaac, the Aqedat Yiṣḥaq. It explores the answers they found to the question of what, indeed, this story is trying to (...) tell us. Is it a drastic way to condemn the practice of child sacrifice? Does it call for replacing human sacrifices with animal sacrifices? Is it a trial by which the Almighty tests the fidelity of one of His followers? Or is it His way to show the world the nature of true belief? The book starts with an introduction to familiarize readers with the many and varied manifestations of the Aqedah theme in Jewish culture and with the developments of medieval Jewish Bible exegesis in general. Next, it offers translations and analyses of the classical medieval Jewish Bible commentaries that deal with the exegesis of Genesis 22, exploring the many angles from which the Aqedah story has been understood. No less than five centuries of medieval Aqedah exegesis are reviewed, from Saadya to Isaac Abrabanel. These texts from the commentaries are combined with hermeneutical key passages by Moses Maimonides, Joseph Ibn Kaspi, Ḥasdai Crescas, and others, which were familiar to the minds of the exegetes, or which, conversely, reflect the impact of biblical Aqedah exegesis on religious thought. Together, the passages discussed illustrate the growth and development of Jewish Bible exegesis in dialogue with the rabbinic sources and with the various trends of thought and theology of their times. The consistent focus on the Aqedah constitutes a unifying theme, while the insights presented here greatly advance our understanding of the various developments in medieval Jewish Bible exegesis. (shrink)

In 'Literature Suspends Death: Sacrifice and Storytelling in Kierkegaard, Kafka and Blanchot' Chris Danta takes Genesis 22 as the starting point for an investigation of the role of literary imagination. His aim is to read the Genesis story from a literary-theoretical perspective in order to show how it can 'illuminate the secular situation of the literary writer.' To do this, Danta stages a fruitful confrontation between Søren Kierkegaard as defender of religion and inwardness and Franz Kafka and Maurice (...) Blanchot as defenders of literature. In this review, three important points in this confrontation are highlighted. 1. The problem of identification. 2. The moment of substitution. 3. The spectrality of the writer. (shrink)

The idea of rejection originated by Aristotle. The notion of rejection was introduced into formal logic by Łukasiewicz [20]. He applied it to complete syntactic characterization of deductive systems using an axiomatic method of rejection of propositions [22, 23]. The paper gives not only genesis, but also development and generalization of the notion of rejection. It also emphasizes the methodological approach to biaspectual axiomatic method of characterization of deductive systems as acceptance (asserted) systems and rejection (refutation) systems, introduced by (...) Łukasiewicz and developed by his student Słupecki, the pioneers of the method, which becomes relevant in modern approaches to logic. (shrink)

The idea of rejection originated by Aristotle. The notion of rejection was introduced into formal logic by Łukasiewicz [20]. He applied it to complete syntactic characterization of deductive systems using an axiomatic method of rejection of propositions [22, 23]. The paper gives not only genesis, but also development and generalization of the notion of rejection. It also emphasizes the methodological approach to biaspectual axiomatic method of characterization of deductive systems as acceptance (asserted) systems and rejection (refutation) systems, introduced by (...) Łukasiewicz and developed by his student Słupecki, the pioneers of the method, which becomes relevant in modern approaches to logic. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Bibliography of the New Rhetoric ProjectDavid A. Frank and William DriscollScholars do not have access to a complete bibliography of the new rhetoric project. We have redressed this problem by compiling what we believe is the most comprehensive bibliography to date of the works of Chaïm Perelman and of those he coauthored with Lucie Olbrechts-Tyteca. The bibliography includes all the English and French titles, as well as titles (...) that saw first publication in other languages. Translations we believe Perelman may have authorized or endorsed are included.With this bibliography, scholars can now better understand how the new rhetoric project was conceived and how it unfolded. Within the larger constellation of the project, Perelman's bibliography is the most extensive, numbering almost three hundred entries. The trajectory of Perelman's scholarship reveals the origins of the new rhetoric project and how it evolved between the time of his announcement in 1949 that he and Olbrechts-Tyteca had embarked on a program designed to rehabilitate reason and the period of his final articles in the 1980s. A review of the articles and books that came out of the Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca collaboration reveals both a phase of conceptualization and development of the project and a phase of culmination. In the first phase, commencing with Rhétorique et philosophie, the authors established the need for a rhetorically grounded philosophy. As they built toward the publication of the Traité, [End Page 449] the culmination of their ten-year effort, they wrote articles elaborating on "notions" in argumentation (1955) and on the tenets of the "new rhetoric" (1956). In 1958, the year the Traité appeared, they published articles on classical and romantic loci in argumentation and on time in argumentation. With the exception of a 1983 tribute to the theorist Pareto, they did not write together after 1958 but instead pursued separate lines of research out of their collaboration. A significant number of theses entries rehearse and embellish notions introduced between 1947 and 1958, the years of the genesis, development, and culmination of Chaïm Perelman and Lucie Olbrechts-Tyteca's new rhetoric project.AbbreviationsChALe champ de l'argumentationDMPDroit, morale, et philosophieEDEthique et droitIJPAThe Idea of Justice and the Problem of ArgumentJLAJustice, Law, and Argument: Essays on Moral and Legal ReasoningNRHThe New Rhetoric and the Humanities: Essays on Rhetoric and Its ApplicationsJJusticeJRJustice et raisonRPRhétorique et philosophie pour une théorie de l'argumentation en philosophieBibliography1931 "Esquisse d'une logistique des valeurs." Revue de l'Université de Bruxelles 36 (3–4): 486–96. Google Scholar1932 "A propos de la philosophie de M. Dupréel." Revue de l'Université de Bruxelles 37 (3): 385–99. Google Scholar1933 "De l'arbitraire dans la connaissance." Archives de la Société belge de philosophie 5 (3): 5–44. Google Scholar"Le statut social des jugements de vérité." Revue de l'Institut de sociologie 13 (1): 17–23. Google Scholar1935 "Réflexions sur l'assimilation." La tribune Juive 12:51–52. [End Page 450]Google Scholar1936 "L'antinomie de M. Gödel." Bulletins de l'Académie royale des sciences, des lettres et des beaux-arts de Belgique 22 (6): 730–36. Google Scholar"Les paradoxes de la logique." Mind 45 (178): 204–8. Google Scholar1937 "L'équivalence, la définition et la solution du paradoxe de Russell." L'enseignement mathématique 36 (5–6): 350–56. Google Scholar"Metafizyka fregego." Kwartalnik filozoficzny 12 (2): 121–42. Google Scholar"Réponse à MM. Grelling et Beth." Mind 46 (182): 278–79. Google Scholar"Une solution des paradoxes de la logique et ses conséquences pour la conception de l'infini." In Congrès Descartes: IXe Congrès international de philosophie, 6:206–10. Paris: Hermann. Google Scholar1938 "Etude sur Frege." PhD diss., Université Libre de Bruxelles.1939 "Etude sur Gottlob Frege." Revue de l'Université de Bruxelles 44 (2): 224–27. Google Scholar"De logica en het vrije onderzoek." Revue de l'Université de Bruxelles 44 (2): 209–19. Google Scholar"La morale des forts et la morale... (shrink)

While the traditional Christian teaching opposing abortion has been relatively unanimous until the twentieth century, it has been claimed in more recent decades that certain Biblical passages support the view that the fetus, or unborn child, has a lesser moral status than a born child, in a way that might support the permissibility of abortion. In this paper, I address the foremost three texts used to argue this point: Genesis 2:7; Exodus 21:22–25; and Numbers 5:11–31. I argue that interpreting (...) the former in the literal way necessary to support abortion leads to untenable moral and exegetical conclusions, indeed straightforwardly contradicting other Biblical texts. I then demonstrate that the most plausible readings of the other passages—on textual and contextual grounds—do not support a lesser moral status, one of the passages plausibly even supporting full moral status, for the unborn child. (shrink)

The doctrine of reincarnation is endorsed by various philosophers in both the Western and Eastern traditions. This paper will explore the relationship between reincarnation and legal punishment. Three competing views of reincarnation will be analyzed on this issue: Plato's work on Socrates, the Bhagavad Gita, and Mahayana Buddhism. Each view presents interesting, but different perspectives on how our view of the person might affect how we punish. The paper will claim that there are practical implications on the administration of justice (...) linked witli each view of reincarnation. Rather than an area we should neglect, perhaps we miglit improve our understanding of punishment in our societj' when we better account for the beliefs held by members of the society. Key words: Buddhism, death, Hinduism, Mahayana, Plato, punishment, reincarnation, Socrates Then the Lord said, 'Now that the man has become as we are, knowing good from bad, what i f he eats the fruit of the Tree of Life and lives forever?' Genesis 4:22. (shrink)

In a paper presented at a symposium on structuralism at the Johns Hopkins University in 1968, the historian Charles Morazé analyzed the issue of invention largely with reference to mathematics and the theory of Henri Poincare.1 Poincare, along with the physiologist Hermann von Helmholtz, was the first to put forward a theory of scientific discovery as occurring in discrete phases. In 1926, Joseph Wallas generalized this theory to apply to all creativity, positing phrases which closely resemble those of Morazé. While (...) both Poincare and Wallas use a four-phrase model of invention, Morazé reduces his to three phrases: information, cogitation, and intellection. In information, the inventor becomes familiar with the sign systems and knowledge, the "collective contributions of society," relevant to his field of problems. Cogitation assembles these materials and concentrates them until "a certain moment" when "a light breaks through." This "sudden illumination...forces us to insist upon the neurological character" of the inventive moment. Finally, in intellection, the inventor rationally evaluates the utility of his invention and thus, in a sense, steps outside of himself and rejoins society. The distinction which organizes Morazé 's entire account, as well as most of the discussion that followed his presentation, is between the "collective" support and control of the inventor and his own individual, or "neurological," act of synthesis or creation. · 1. See Charles Morazé 's "Literary Invention," in The Structuralist Controversy: The Languages of Criticism and the Sciences of Man, ed. Richard Macksey and Eugenio Donato, pp. 22-55. Loy D. Martin is an assistant professor of English at the University of Chicago. He has written The Language of Invention, a study of Robert Browning and the genesis of the dramatic monologue. "A Reply to Carl Pletsch and Richard Schiff" appeared in the Spring 1981 issue of Critical Inquiry. (shrink)

continent. 2.2 (2012): 155–158 Michel Serres. Biogea . Trans. Randolph Burks. Minneapolis: Univocal Publishing. 2012. 200 pp. | ISBN 9781937561086 | $22.95 Conveying to potential readers the significance of a book puts me at risk of glad handing. It’s not in my interest to laud the undeserving, especially on the pages of this journal. This is not a sales pitch, but rather an affirmation of a necessary work on very troubled terms: human, earth, nature, and the problematic world we made. (...) It is this world that aspirates the silence (so to speak), and therefore the subject which, along with the development of the “made world” exports the excess augmentation of the cosmically missing, this silence of the natural, et cetera. Had we learned from Locke that lesson of “labor,” to consume what we need… but perhaps we need more than what matters? Serres’ Biogea has several functions on this manner, if it is indeed a book to be consumed. First, readers searching for novelistic entertainment have a place to dwell. Biogea deserves a place in your back pocket; biographical generosity and poetic fluidity should satisfy most textual fetishes. For lay philosophers who want to refresh their acumen, Biogea deserves a place on the book shelf, one already reads a sorely needed postmodern tune-up here. Serres’ style is clearly French; he leaves few cheese crumbs on his words, rather preciseness and breathing in the work give way to a sweeping manner that breaks the narrative line of sight. A circular narrative and anachronistic fragmentation of terms allows an abyssal atmosphere to swell, if only to pump into the book the externality of its broader text. Biogea aspires to a higher standard and the book, at times, is thinking this negentropic problem too. Univocal, the publisher, has crafted a book appropriate for the hands to hold and the translations are an achievement of an otherwise difficult writer to translate. Terms are the conditions of a broader text. It is important to note that Serres’ content is as much a thinking of terminal ports. There is a regard for the transportation technology of the written word. For me, this is the mark of genius, a craftiness that tells of a book device that I may trust. Serres is an accomplished thinker and a necessary voice to check the putative trendiness of anti-postmodernist and market-driven theory of endless cultural liquidation. Offering interventions on subjectivity as an open system we are given a chance to affirm the human, not merely to discard it, but to engage its poetic image emotion, the calibratory silent sense of the analogic world; the terms on which we base our efforts. 1 The human is the center of its own negation, constantly mediating it. Something deeper at stake appears in the work then, and it is quite obvious from the onset. Certainly, a book is an intensification of possible text and those who brought this actual book into existence have captured a rarity in regards to the subject matter and artistic accomplishment. I mentioned terms as conditions, so let us understand Biogea as bio-yea, a yes to bios . An affirmation of living and accepting presence for all of its defiance of images, words, and things temporal. Therefore Serres’ existence and its existants plays parts; out of linearity and still like a porous bone pumping blood it manufactures into the fleshy life it becomes. Starting from a man named silence chaos emerges, or the man “Old Taciturn” takes up a journey anticipating a great flood. In other words, a development akin to the one in Genesis. In dealing with this ancestral occupation, fusing Genesis with contemporary philosophical terms, Serres initiates this anachronistic fragmentation under the forming subjectivity of his own autobiography. This mutation in the open system is precisely one of Serres’ terms. There an abyss is at work, stated, but also measured by heels on the ground—the abyss dispatching earthen tensions, that which plays our tunes, that which we abide by and recognize in volcanoes, rivers, oceans, earthquakes and weaponry in the battles of the world. Set in later stages of the book, such tensions are harnessed through scientific principles in an attempt to unify the terms of natural force if only to terminate the world. Thus the elevation of the earth into the world is clearly set forth. Here already, and few pages in, a resonance is set forth under appellations such as the river Garonne, a subjectivity as much as it is inhuman, the river is the inhuman that makes us human. I get the sense that Serres is taking up a challenge issued by Wallace Stevens; namely, that the great poems of heaven and hell have been written, but that only the poem of the earth has resisted composition. 2 On this level we cannot avoid the killing factor of silence, given that our cognition blocks its pure, radical obliteration. Thus a silence of attunement to the earth is in a novel dialectic of the rithmic and rhythm. A technological world, a triumph of termination is set forth. If a text imposes its will given the reader who authorizes it, it is made to convey or convect a presupposition to a reader or its inhabitant(s). Text is therefore both, in-content, contenting, contentedness, and in reading it, a way to navigate self-destruction (dis-content). Here then would one note that the “inhuman” reveals itself, “an aperiodic rhythm of lovers and beloved…the sea as our friend…but as our enemy…maternal vivifying sea.” The sea is an open book, or vaginal birth canal, where the engagement of text comes forth: “…woman sea, open vulva.” One sees like the sea, but only after it, when the uninhabitable truth of inhabiting it switches the polarity of the sailors soul: “I was seeing like the sea” (9-11). In other words, we are invited to embrace the nonsense of the visible. At this point I am taken to Jean-François Lyotard’s work The Inhuman , specifically the first entry on negentropy that would be congruent with Serres’ thematic. 3 The human being exports, deports, or transplants its relation through text, through the system— and this is its sense or relation to silence, to music. Unaware of Serres’ proximity to this work, the concept of gender interrelation as regards a solar catastrophe runs clear. It would be, on this basis, that Serres references his peers, the other texts that, as mentioned above, are discarded in philosophy today. For students of philosophy what we have here is perhaps a gift, a needed project. If silence and death are at work, there is a political valence to deal with, and here, much like the domain of the text and the dominion of the reader, we confront the world of natural, fluid violence. The anti-postmodernist critique is in part based on a weak idea that the loss of ideology, of a world vision, motivates the “correlationist” project. 4 Serres seems to offer another way to view this when he notes that whereas persons “sometimes kill,” it is clearly “the collective” that “always kills” (17). What is the collective today, if not an organizing function we never see yet acts in its favor in the name of truth? One feels a sense of enigma here, if only to link to what Stevens remarked of communism as a “grubby faith,” providing this applies for capitalism as well, namely any ideology of progress overly interested in absolutes. Here we get the sense that the inhuman, silence, this type of killing, always killing, could not be matched by human-made, political dynamos. Or that if it comes to an equilibrium, a catastrophe is never too far from us to read with our heels. We are left to note that the forces of nature presuppose and permeate political systems, the more these systems obtain force, the more the system takes upon itself the proper name of nature that motivates its dissemination, albeit falsely. This note, that in an age of ecocide and technological captivity (sustainability and transparency) political regimes won’t grow our soul-learning ears any larger than our tongues, stands clear to us. The promise of technological desubjectification is here pushed aside. Regarding politics, Serres illustrates this fact: Where did this corpse come from? Who was it? Who killed it? I don’t know. I won’t try to find out. I refuse to get vengeance for it. And I only see Garonne. For our victims, today, are the rivers, too. Their waters have irrigated my life, enchanted my thought, invigorated my body; I’ve known them to be threatening, untamable, as dangerous as the sea when it rages. Yes, murderous. They decided to control their courses; dams, sometimes senseless, destroying sites and valleys, reduced entire populations to servile displacements; programs for the irrigation of thirsty farmland, often beneficial of course, completed their drying up.(22) Serres enters into his idea concerning the captivity of language from the natural into a world system: For thousands of years, we have been licking things with our tongues, covering and daubing them so as to appropriate things for ourselves. If language boils down to a convention, this convention took place between the speakers without consulting the thing named, become as a result the property of those who covered it in this way with their drawn or voiced productions. Malfeasance analyzes these acts of appropriation. Thus every inert object, every living thing as well, sleeps under the covers of signs, a little in the way that, today, a thousand posters shouting messages and ugly riots of color drown, with their filthy flood, the landscapes, or better, exclude them from perception because the meaning, almost nil, of this false language and these base images forms an irresistible source of attraction to our neurons and eyes. This appropriation covers the world’s beauty with ugliness. (38-39) Technological concealment coming to bear, we begin to get a sense of another commentary on the condition of sensing, driving home the necessity of a text dealing with such subject matter to be what its terms insist. Thus toward new openings: The new opening. As low beneath our feet as you like, the Biogea opens us to another space, high enough for us to be able to acquire a wisdom there, that of redeveloping this same place differently from our fathers, this place that’s still politically cut up by old hatreds, beneath the flood of tears and blood that we call history. Without this soft place, spiritually very old, but newly conceived in this way, without the juridical construction of a common good, opposed to our filthy ownership, I don’t see how our planet, hard, will survive. Hardness that depends on a softness, material belonging that depends on this temporary rented location (51). Serres enters into a summit on the content and the structure of his work. Archimedes is brought in with the concept of three volcanoes. Meaning fire, but as well earth, water, air. For it was Archimedes’ war machines that sought to lift the earth, thus bringing in the question of principles of science: “can a principle be invented while controlling its consequences?” (66-7). May the earth be put in a sentence, terminated by terminology, appellations, gone wild? By means of these element-dominating laws, this old physicist began to tear nature away from the ancient myths; by a strange return, today we’re plunging our successes back into the anxieties and terrors from which that ancient physics was born. Yes, our new history of science and technology is plunging, today, as though in a loop, into the fundamental human myths from which Empedocles’ first laws came. A major progression and a regression on the nether side of the origins. Consequently, the contemporary time requires that we try to return to that unity in which the principles of hate and love are at the same time human, living, inert and global. We will never attain a deontology of our knowledge and actions without thinking the subjective, the objective, the collective, and the cognitive all together simultaneously. Here, hate and love are the result of these four components.(71) Working then on the concept of fire-starting mirrors to the atomic annihilation of the Second War, Serres works into the subjectivity in question on the matter of rhythm—say rithmic— precisely at that point: Knowledge is changing today. The all-political is dying; the monarchy of the sciences said to be hard is coming to a close. The science of the things of the world will have to communicate just as much as the things of the world do, which do it much better than humans do, who don’t always want to do it. Let’s celebrate two changes this morning. The first one strikes a new blow to our narcissism. No, knowledge and the world don’t resemble our analytical enjoyments of refined cutting up, of endless debates and of exclusions full of hate. They, on the contrary, form a bloc and a sum, alliance and alloys. Uniting the fields of knowledge among themselves the way the things are connected among themselves, the second newness puts into place sets united by interlacing, webs and simplexes that combine with the things of the world, themselves combined, the combined knowledge that understands them.(130-1) Biogea closes on its opening flood thematic, approaching the initial telos of Genesis. Here the trees are brought into a position with atmosphere, the opaque abyssal reservoir, the tomb of the sun, sea in the polarity of the earthen heaven and hell. The poem of the earth then is silent but deadly, indeed, as funny as that phrase is, mainly a tomb gas. The meaning of the living and the non-meaning of things converge in the muteness of the world; this meaning and non-meaning plunge there and come out, the ultimate eddy. Mundus patet: through a fissure, through an opening, a fault, a cleft come noises, calls as small as these apertures. I’m listening, attentive, I’m translating, I’m advancing in the scaled-down meaning and science. Mundus patet: should the world open greatly, it will launch me into its silence. The totality remains silent. Knowledge expanded in elation. White origin of meaning, fountain of joy. (198) Final Remarks One test of a review is the long term trajectory the referee thinks the book will have. I see Serres’ text lending greatly into the vision of Biogea . In fact, in the vision of the novel inquiries of Stephen Jay Gould’s work there is something to be thought on the level of the individual and the species; namely, that humanity and its uniqueness is in its deferral, its thinking and naming, a thinking surrounded by silence that filters into everything, that pulls us through the world, the kinetic pulse we recognize, and all of that we cleave away in the base philosophical maxim of difference itself. Unique individuals are spatial creatures: we dwell, and we ought to get good at it. Yet this is an imaginative space that, if you are crazy enough to believe it, de-term-ine the conditions of its own terms. That is why we are not merely creating spaces on the acceleration of time, or so this ignoramus thinks, to accidentally transcend. Imagination already has this insatiable silence that we drink up and fail to manifest. Space is timeless. The imagination itself, shared by humans for themselves, their objects, and the species as a whole, is a non-defined space of relation; a whole human trajectory as part of nature, and part of worlds that are the other side of thinking nature, the consequence of it, at least our attempt to do so. Our survival is based on our deliberation, our caution, our natural deconstructive sense toward this silence that is already part of the song, sung, singing of this century without end. Good books will let us inhabit this space and recognize a form of life. Serres’ text moves toward dwelling, as noted, in masterful and accessible ways. The pitched battles are the falling replays of anemic and dead politics. As soon as we realize there is humanity, we may be able to enjoy the end of it, our inhuman capability of listening to silence. NOTES 1. See Michel Serres. The Parasite . Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. 2007. 2. Wallace Stevens, “Imagination as Value” [ca. 1945], in Collected Poetry and Prose . New York: The Library of America. 1997. 724-39. 3. Jean-François Lyotard. The Inhuman: Reflections on Time . Trans. Geoffrey Bennington & Rachel Bowlby. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. 1992. 4. See the introduction: Quentin Melliassoux. After Finitude: An Essay on the Necessity of Contingency . Trans. Ray Brassier. New York: Continuum. 2008. EDITOR'S NOTE: This review was updated on August 8, 2012. Substantial edits include block quotes from the book under review as well as the inclusion of comments from the author. (shrink)

The central premise of this book is that biblical Hebrew narrative, in terms of its structure, tends to operate under similar mechanical constraints to those of a stage-play; wherein space is central, characters are fluid, and objects within the narrative tend to take on a deep internal significance. The smaller episodic narrative units within the Hebrew aesthetic tend to grant primacy to space, both ideologically and at the mechanical level of the text itself. However space, as a determinate structural category, (...) has been all but overlooked in the field of biblical studies to date; reflecting perhaps our own inability, as modern readers, to see beyond the dominant cinematic aesthetic of our times. The book is divided into two major sections, each beginning with a more theoretical approach to the function of narrative space, and ending with a practical application of the previous discussion; using Genesis 28:10-22 (the Bethel narrative) and the book of Ruth respectively, as test cases.Where does the notion of free will come from? How and when did it develop, and what did that development involve? In Michael Frede's radically new account of the history of this idea, the notion of a free will emerged from powerful assumptions about the relation between divine providence, correctness of individual choice, and self-enslavement due to incorrect choice. Anchoring his discussion in Stoicism, Frede begins with Aristotle--who, he argues, had no notion of a free will--and ends with Augustine. Frede shows that Augustine, far from originating the idea (as is often claimed), derived most of his thinking about it from the Stoicism developed by Epictetus. (shrink)

The aim of the following lines is to reinstate some unpublished fragments into two letters written by Freud to Fliess on 12 and 22 December 1897, respectively. These dates refer to a period in Freud’s elaborations traditionally considered subsequent to his renunciation of the seduction theory. As is well known, the interpretation of an earlier letter to Fliess, written by Freud on 21 September 1897, makes his revocation into the first stage of what has since become Freudian psychoanalysis. This “turning (...) point” has allowed many an interpreter to grasp Freudian psychoanalysis as a theory of instinctive fantasies. Yet, the conventional dots, frequently used in The Origins of Psycho-analysis to indicate editorial omissions, raise the issue: Do hitherto unknown quantities prevent us from understanding what the precise nature of this “turning point” might be?In the English and subsequent German editions of the Freud-Fliess correspondence there are indeed some clues of uncertainty as regards Freud’s definitive repeal of his seduction theory. Consider, for example, the statement from a letter dated 31 August 1898: “The secret of this restlessness is hysteria.”2 Freud cannot rest on his new hypothesis about the nature of neurosis since the etiology of hysteria continues to be a secret. A particularly dense passage of the same letter seems to elaborate on the causes of Freud’s agitation.True, I have a good record of successes, but perhaps they have been only indirect, as if I had applied the lever in the right direction for the line of cleavage of the substance; but the line of cleavage itself remains unknown to me. [O, p. 262] Maria Torok is the author of The Wolf-Man’s Magic Word , forthcoming in translation, 1986. “Unpublished by Freud to Fliess” is part of a book-length study she is completing on the genesis of Freudian concepts. Nicholas Rand, assistant professor of French at the University of Wisconsin—Madison, is the translator of The Wolf-Man’s Magic Word. (shrink)

This essay is an analytical extension of Roland Barthes’ structural analysis of an excerpt from the Old Testament (Genesis 32: 22–32), known as “The Struggle with the Angel”. It thus continues the search for “the third meaning” of this enigmatic passage. In this essay, “The Struggle with the Angel” is undertaken in the phenomenological (xenological) register which situates it in the liminal sphere at the crossing of disclosure and concealment. Subsequent semiotic analyses of three visual renditions of Genesis (...) 32: 22–32, Rembrandt’s “Jacob’s Struggle with the Angel”, Sir Jacob Epstein’s “Jacob and the Angel”, and Marc Chagall’s “Jacob Wrestling with the Angel”, show the “third meaning” of the passage to be predicated on the foundational relation between naming and facing, pointing to the understanding of “The Struggle” as the face-to-face relationship of love and responsibility grounded in ethics. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:TWILIGHT OF THE VAMPIRES: HISTORY AND THE MYTH OF THE UNDEAD Matthew Kratter University ofCalifornia Berkeley "Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster." (Nietzsche, Beyond Good andEvil, IV, 146) One ofthe most satisfying parts ofan extended engagement with the mimetic theory is the bird's-eye view of history that it affords one—that magnificently coherent panorama which stretches from proto-hominids through (...) the Passion to post-culture and the Apocalypse. The sheer scope of Girard's historical vision is also, admittedly, one ofthe more controversial aspects of his theory. As early as Violence and the Sacred (French, 1972; English trans., 1977), in a conscious revolt against the anti-Hegelian and anti-systematic temper of the times, Girard implied a historical telos for human culture that consists ofthe gradual replacement of sacrificial by non-sacrificial paradigms and praxes. With the publication of Things Hidden Since the Foundation ofthe World (1978; 1987) and The Scapegoat (1982; 1986), however, Girard appeared to step beyond the pale of polite (read, secularist) academic discourse by explicitly identifying the Christian Paraclete as the divine dynamo behind the historical process: "The Spirit is working in history to reveal what Jesus has already revealed, the mechanism ofthe scapegoat, the genesis of all mythology, the nonexistence of all gods of violence" (Scapegoat 207). More recently, in an essay on Satan (literally, "the accuser"), the contrasting role of the Paraclete (literally, "the lawyer for the defense") as a defender ofvictims is again emphasized: Matthew Kratter31 It is possible to read the history, first of the Christianized West, then ofthe Westernized planet, our modern history, as... a process of vindication and rehabilitation of more and more persecuted victims. New hidden victims of society are continuously being brought to light; the consensus against them always dissolves after a while. First it was slaves, then the lower classes, then people ofdifferent ethnic and religious backgrounds. Today the victimization of ethnic groups, of women, ofhandicapped people, ofthe very young and the very old, is coming to light. (GirardReader 208) Mostrecently, Girard's view ofhistory has become, ifanything, more unified, as (following Raymund Schwager) he has begun to emphasize the continuity between the sacrificial and the non-sacrificial (without, of course, trying to elide their differences). At a recent AAR/SBL conference in San Francisco (22 November 1997), Girard discussed the Eucharist as a recapitulation ofthe religious history of mankind, in which all previous forms of sacrifice are present (from cannibalism and "other-sacrifice" to the other end of the spectrum and "self-sacrifice"). Or phrased somewhat differently, the redemptive effects ofthe Passion radiate backwards and forwards in time— what Giuseppe Fornari implies when he refers to Christianity's "capacity to redeem the whole history ofman, summing up and surpassing all its sacrificial forms" (187). It may well prove that "Sacrifice" (with a capital "S") is the single most important and comprehensive word that we possess to describe our history. The central contention ofthis essay is that the phenomenon ofthe vampire offers itself as a privileged site for exploring this work of the Paraclete in history. The very processes of "bringing to light" and "exhuming victims," described by Girard above, are certainly metaphors appropriate to the twilit world ofthe vampire, in which the undead are always being dug up or exposed to die light. IfI maintain that, this late in the twentieth century, we are living in the "twilight ofthe vampires," the allusion to Wagner's Götterdämmerung and Nietzsche's Götzen-dämmerung is not accidental. The ambiguity ofthe German verb dämmern (which can mean "to grow dark" or "to grow light") captures all the paradoxes that surround the mythologizing, demythologizing, and remythologizing of the traditional figure ofthe vampire. I will explore these paradoxes in five successive moments (in the most archaic and traditional form taken by the vampire, then in a medieval persecution text, a late-Victorian novel, a German Expressionist film, and finally a series of 32Twilight ofthe Vampires contemporary popular novels) in order to demonstrate the various metamorphoses undergone by the vampire throughout a history which may be viewed as overseen by the Paraclete—and by a... (shrink)

A educação do homem interior: O cultivo da vontade em Agostinho de Hipona Resumo: O estudo aqui apresentado tem como objetivo principal a investigação da formação humana nas obras filosóficas Comentários Literal ao Gênesis, A Trindade e O livre-arbítrio, de Agostinho de Hipona. Para isso, aborda-se a noção da antropologia do referido autor; a sua compreensão de corpo e alma (dimensão humana no homem animal) e, por último, objetiva-se explicitar alguns pressupostos de uma educação do ser humano orientada a uma (...) boa formação da vontade. Trata-se de uma pesquisa bibliográfica, exploratória e de caráter hermenêutico. Agostinho concebe a ideia de homem como um ser dotado de corpo e alma. A alma, quando bem formada, pode conduzir os indivíduos à vida com sabedoria e, portanto, a uma beata vita. A vontade é o que movimenta toda as outras dimensões do ser humano e, por isso, ela deve ser bem formada. A educação da vontade, para o pensador, consiste em realizar o jogo de utilizar os objetos que servem de meio para algo e fruir ou contemplar aquilo que é fim em si mesmo. A vontade humana difere do que se passa no reino animal e é capaz de guiar bem o homem, concedendo-lhe minimamente uma relação de desprendimento com a matéria. Conclui-se, a partir dessas linhas mestras do pensamento do autor, que a ética agostiniana ao mesmo tempo que estabelece princípios para o bem agir e lograr uma vida feliz, exige, para isso, um processo formativo que consiste na educação da vontade, uma vez que Agostinho compreende-a como livre em si, isto é, como autodeterminante, ela pode voltar-se por si àquilo que é presença constante, isto é, a objetos de foro contemplativo e afastar-se, tanto quanto possível, dos ditames de uma vida submetida ao mundo material. Palavras-chave: Formação; Vontade; Cultivo; Santo Agostinho; Alma. La educación del hombre interior: el cultivo de la voluntad en Agostinho de Hipona Resumen: El estudio aquí presentado tiene como objetivo principal la investigación de la formación humana en las obras filosóficas Comentarios Literal al Génesis, La Trinidad y El Libre-Arbitrio, de Agostinho de Hipona. Así, se trata la noción y antropología del referido autor, su comprensión de cuerpo y alma (dimensión humana en el hombre animal) y, por último, se objetiva explicitar algunos supuestos de una educación del ser humano orientada a una buena formación de la voluntad. Es una investigación bibliográfica, exploratoria y de carácter hermenéutico. Agostinho concibe la idea de hombre como un ser dotado de cuerpo y alma. El alma, cuando bien formada, puede conducir los individuos a la vida con sabiduría y, por lo tanto, a una beata vita. La voluntad es lo que conduce todas las otras dimensiones del ser humano y, de esta manera, ella debe de ser bien formada. La educación de la voluntad, para el pensador, supone realizar el juego de utilizar los objetos que sirven como medio para algo y fruir o contemplar aquello que tiene fin en sí mismo. La voluntad humana es distinta de lo que se pasa en el reino animal y es capaz de guiar bien el hombre, le permitiendo mínimamente una relación de desprendimiento con la materia. Se concluye, desde esas líneas maestras del pensamiento del autor, que la ética agostiniana al tiempo que establece principios para el bien actuar y lograr una vida feliz, exige, para eso, un proceso formativo que consiste en la educación de la voluntad, una vez que Agostinho la comprende como libre en sí, es decir, como auto determinante, ella puede volverse a lo que es presencia constante, o sea, volverse a objetos de foro contemplativo y aislarse, tanto como sea posible, de los dictados de una vida sometida al mundo material. Palabras-clave: Formación; Voluntad; Cultivo; Santo Agostinho; Alma. The education of the inner-man: The cultivation of will in Augustine of Hippo Abstract: This study is aimed at investigating human formation in the philosophical works On the literal meaning of Genesis, On the Trinity and On free choice of the will, by Augustine of Hippo. To meet that aim, the author’s notion of anthropology is addressed; his understanding of body and soul (human dimension in the human animal) and, finally, we explain some assumptions related to the education of the human being as leading to the good formation of will. This is a bibliographical, exploratory and hermeneutical study. Augustine conceives the idea of man as a being with body and soul. The soul, when well formed, can lead individuals to life with wisdom and, therefore, to a beata vita. Will moves all the other dimensions of the human being and, thus, it must be well formed. For Augustine, the education of the will consists of performing the game of using objects that work as means for something and enjoy or contemplate what is an end in itself. Human will differs from that of the animal kingdom and is capable of guiding man well, granting him a minimal relation of detachment from the material. The conclusion, based on such guidelines from Augustine’s thought, is that Augustinian ethics establishes principles for acting well and reaching a happy life and, at the same time, demands, for those aims, a formative process that consists of the education of the will, as Augustine understands it as free in itself, i.e., as self-determining, for it can turn by itself to what is a constant presence, i.e., to objects of contemplative scope and move away, as far as possible, from the dictates of a life submitted to the material world. Keywords: Formation; Will; Cultivation; Saint Augustine; Soul. Data de registro: 07/03/2020 Data de aceite: 22/09/2021. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Basic Concepts of Aristotelian PhilosophyShawn LohtMartin Heidegger. Basic Concepts of Aristotelian Philosophy. Translated by Robert D. Metcalf and Mark B. Tanzer. Bloomington-Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2009. Pp. xii + 279. Cloth, $39.95.Previously available as Volume 18 of the Gesamtausgabe [GA], this text contains a lecture course delivered by Heidegger at Marburg during the summer of 1924. Metcalf and Tanzer's translation is its first appearance in English. The editor (...) of this volume in the Gesamtausgabe reports that only a fraction of Heidegger's original course material survives in manuscript form. As a result, much of the text does not originate from Heidegger's own hand. The bulk of it represents a transcription of the lecture course based on multiple independently-recorded, complete sets of student notes in conjunction with Heidegger's extant course papers. However, the resulting text reads as continuously as Heidegger's other better-preserved lecture courses from the 1920s, and should be regarded as a legitimate source for studying early Heidegger. Only the reproduction of Heidegger's notes for the course appears in rough outline form, comprising approximately 50 pages, so readers should not anticipate a text consisting entirely of abbreviated sketches as one sees, for instance, in the recently translated Basic Concepts of Ancient Philosophy (GA 22).The content of the lecture course is not devoted to enumerating the basic Aristotelian concepts per se, but rather to accounting for the phenomenological dimensions of the Greek experience in which conceptuality as such could arise. However, Heidegger does treat most principal concepts of Aristotelian philosophy here, describing the ontological framework from which they originate and their interrelations with one another.Heidegger engages with Kant in the early sections of the course in order to locate the historical solidification of the concept as a guiding idea in philosophy, but he moves to Aristotle quickly on the premise that the decisive germ of conceptuality is exhibited in the Greek discovery of the significance of definitions. In the text that follows, Heidegger takes up central themes in Aristotle in order to unfold Greek being-in-the-world as occurring through language and, particularly, oral discourse. Strong focus is placed on Greek being-there in its everydayness as the hermeneutic for understanding conceptuality.Clear rudiments of the terminology of Being and Time emerge in the course of Heidegger's account of Aristotle. Themes appearing in that later work, including world, being-with-one-another, attunement, fear, and idle talk, inform Heidegger's reading of the Aristotelian account of human nature across the Nicomachean Ethics, Rhetoric, De Anima, and Parts of Animals. Key Aristotelian terms Heidegger develops within this framework include 'prohairesis', 'hexis', 'pathos', and 'nous'. Early formulations of Heidegger's conceptions of logos and aletheia and their fundamental role in Greek experience also permeate his reading. Traces of Heidegger's more mature phenomenology are evident in the lecture course's late sections, in which he takes up the Aristotelian account of motion in the Physics. Here, Heidegger emphasizes the roles of nous as constitutive of the human agent's openness to the world and of kinesis as the fundamental mode in which beings come into view for the Greeks.Notable among the translation choices of Metcalf and Tanzer is their rendering of 'Dasein' and its variants. As they write in the Translators' Preface, Heidegger's use of this term in the lecture course reflects an understanding of Dasein in terms of its there-character. The result places less emphasis on the human subject as a dative agent of manifestation, as one sees in Being and Time, highlighting instead the manner in which Dasein finds itself in the world. This last is expressive of Heidegger's emphatic treatment in the course of conceptuality as tied up with human being-in-the-world.This text will be of vital interest to scholars interested in the genesis of Being and Time and Heidegger's early formulations of its central arguments in the 1920s. The text will also be an important addition to Heidegger's works on Aristotle available in English. The lecture course offers penetrating and incisive accounts of themes in Aristotle that Heidegger neglects or treats only briefly... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Technology and Our Relationship with GodAnselm Ramelow O.P.God's Original Plan and the FallTechnology may appear to be a very secular thing, but to assume that technology can be understood without God would be a mistake. Technology is deeply involved in our relationship with God. This involvement is, moreover, profoundly ambivalent.1To begin with the positive side of this ambivalence: the growing awareness of the dangers of technology should not lead (...) Christians to think that technology is necessarily a bad thing. It is, in fact, not even merely a "necessary evil." Rather, we can find in the use of technology an unfolding of our God-given rational nature. If we believe that God "made us in his image and likeness," then this quite directly implies two things: (1) God is a maker (he made us), and (2) since he made us in his image and likeness, we are makers as well. The making of technology thus reflects our dignity as made in the image and likeness of God.2 Accordingly, the Church has been more positive towards the development of technology than one might expect, and some of our technologies (e.g., agricultural, architectural, and time-keeping technologies) have their roots in medieval monasteries.3 [End Page 159]We should therefore expect that Adam and Eve, had they not fallen, nevertheless would have become makers of technology in some form or other. They would have exhibited inventiveness and tool use, though perhaps not a tool use focused on warding off evil (which did not exist in Eden), but concerned with promoting positive forms life, such as tools of art and communication. Art and communication technologies are, like all tools, means to an end; but these in particular contain their ends in themselves. In Aristotelian terms, their making (poiesis) concerns a praxis (such as "making conversation"). That is why we sometimes forget to list such technologies among our typical examples of technologies. We forget, for example, that, among the technologies of communication, language as a physical tool (sounds or written marks) is an obvious example. And it is a prelapsarian feature: the book of Genesis has Adam naming things before the Fall. In doing so, Adam echoes God's own creative "technique" of speaking or calling things into being.4 Even in its oral form, language is a matter of human making and a technology of communication. In paradise, communication would not have been merely instrumental, not merely a means, but an intrinsic good, embodying knowledge and intersubjective communion.Other forms of prelapsarian technology, however, are a matter of speculation. And whether or not one agrees with Jacques Ellul's thesis that there was no such prelapsarian technology,5 the ambivalence of technology is clear from the very beginning as well. This is at least what we see in the book of Genesis. For, as a matter of biblical record, it was Cain and his descendants who founded cities and developed technology (e.g., Tubal-Cain as the "forger of all instruments of bronze and iron" in Gen 4:22). And the history [End Page 160] of these urban civilizations does not display the best part of human behavior. But if, as we have said, technology is not necessarily a bad thing, then this must be a corruption of technology. What might this corruption consist in?I want to suggest that it consists precisely in the corruption of our relationship with God, from which technology can never abstract and in which it is, for better or for worse, embedded. Unsurprisingly, therefore, as technology progresses, this relationship becomes more and more explicit, and it does so in a paradoxical way: initially, it is an attempt to put humanity in charge and control, to replace our need for reliance on God by allowing us to play God ourselves. But in our current situation, particularly with the emergence of artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning, the roles appear reversed: rather than putting humanity in charge, technology in turn is increasingly in control—to the point of becoming itself a god or idol that rules human life. As a result, we only end up having replaced one God with another... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 62.1 (2001) 1-16 [Access article in PDF] The Plot of History from Antiquity to the Renaissance Eric MacPhail In the Poetics Aristotle introduced the notion of plot or mythos as a distinctly poetic form of rationality and coherence absent from history. In the course of antiquity and the Renaissance Aristotle's notion of plot underwent a curious inversion by which history came to supplant (...) poetry as the main literary form of emplotment. To account for the readjustment or even reversal of Aristotle's distinction between history and poetry, we will examine the notions of order, causality, and chance expounded by classical historians and literary theorists before tracing their influence to Renaissance writers. In the Renaissance the transmission, conflation, and distortion of Aristotelian doctrine exerted a profound influence on historiography and literary criticism, particularly in the latter part of the sixteenth century. It is even possible to understand some of the new and hybrid forms of Renaissance fiction as a reaction to this transference of the idea of plot from poetry to history. While history may indeed possess no coherent plot, as Aristotle speculated, literary history can nevertheless reconstitute the genealogy of competing notions of plot and order in Renaissance narrative.We can situate Aristotle's definition of plot in the context of his inquiry into cause and coincidence. In book two of the Physics Aristotle proposes a rigorous typology of cause, distinguishing between formal, material, efficient, and final causes, and he also considers the status of chance and fortune as accidental causes or aitia kata symbebekos (197a5-6). 1 The Metaphysics takes up the question of to kata symbebekos, translated alternately as accident or coincidence, and in doing so develops several arguments that pertain to the treatment of plot in the Poetics and to the larger issue of the coherence of fiction and history. As Richard Sorabji points out, the key to Aristotle's notion of coincidence is the [End Page 1] paradox of existence without genesis or without coming into being. 2 Metaphysics VI, 2 maintains that "of things which are in other senses there is generation and destruction [genesis kai phthora], but of things which are accidentally [kata symbebekos] there is not" (1026b24). Metaphysics VI, 3 argues that if this were not so, if nothing existed without genesis, then everything would be of necessity in the sense that every future event could be traced back to a present cause. Genesis thus seems to signify an unbroken chain of causes while to symbebekotos, the coincidental, represents a break in the causal chain. For Aristotle the coincidental or the fortuitous "goes back to some starting point (arche), which does not go back to something else" (1027b12-14). A coincidence is an uncaused cause.Aristotle's Poetics furnishes a definition of plot or mythos that provides a link between the metaphysical discussion of cause and the fictional inquiry into chance. For Aristotle the dramatic plot is the integration of various actions, or synthesis ton pragmaton (1450a5), into a whole or olon consisting of a beginning, a middle, and an end (1450b27). The unity of action does not admit of any accidents within the plot as it moves continuously from beginning to middle to end, and yet the plot as a whole exemplifies the metaphysical notion of a coincidence. Aristotle defines the beginning of the plot or the arche as "that which does not itself follow anything by causal necessity but after which something naturally is or comes to be" (1450b28-29). Thus the mythos, like the coincidence, originates in an uncaused cause, that scandal abhorred by rationalism. Aristotle further complicates the question of causality when he denies to historical events the type of probability or necessity that he associates with dramatic actions. Chapter 23 of the Poetics exhorts the epic poet to emulate tragedy and shun the example of histories (1459a17-22), for while historical events may possess a chronological unity, they do not form any causal chain and thus do not exhibit any unity of action.In chapter 9 of the Poetics Aristotle... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 27.2 (2003) 318-340 [Access article in PDF] Marlow's Morality Daniel Brudney "Good is a transcendent reality" means that virtue is the attempt to pierce the veil of selfish consciousness and join the world as it really is. —Iris Murdoch, The Sovereignty of Good I THE REPUTATION OF Conrad's sailor-narrator, Charlie Marlow, has risen and fallen through the years. Initially seen as a simple master mariner or (...) at most as a technical device, a way to get a tale told, with the work of Albert Guérard he began to receive his due, becoming lionized as the true subject at least of Heart of Darkness, and of more than technical interest in the other stories. 1 In recent years, however, his reputation has slumped hard as his racism and sexism have come to the fore. In this article, I attempt no full-scale rehabilitation but simply point out that, despite his failings, Marlow possesses a virtue worth remarking and that his failings involve a failure to extend that virtue far enough.I call that virtue attentiveness, and more specifically, attentiveness to the other. It has been neglected, at least by philosophers, although as a virtue it is utterly obvious. This is not surprising. The moral life is generally the sphere of the obvious and progress here often consists merely in noting what has been overlooked. The presence or absence of this virtue is revealed less by what the agent feels or doesn't feel or does or doesn't do than by her stance or orientation toward others. And as orientations are slippery things to describe (and this one more than most) there is an advantage in looking at literary characters: they show palpably the virtue (or corresponding vice) at issue. My focus in this [End Page 318] article is the forms that Marlow's tales (particularly Lord Jim and Heart of Darkness) show attentiveness to the other can take—and fail to take—in a human life. II Let's begin with Marlow's sexism, and specifically as manifested in his lie to Kurtz's Intended. She asks for Kurtz's final words, and Marlow replies not "The horror! The horror!" but "The last words he pronounced was—your name" (HD, p. 161). 2 Marlow says that the truth "would have been too dark, too dark altogether" (p. 162). But what doesn't Marlow want the Intended to know? That her beloved went mad in the jungle, became evil? And why shouldn't she know this? Because it would bring her pain? But Marlow insists that the Intended has "a mature capacity" for suffering (p. 157; a capacity to handle it, presumably, not a proneness to it). Anyway, Marlow's lie will perpetuate suffering, her mourning for her image of Kurtz: smash her idol and she might be able to get on with her life. In any event, the issue of suffering does not explain why the truth is "too dark."Marlow does not class the Intended as "one of us" (LJ, p. 43). This is the phrase he, like Conrad, uses to characterize Jim in Lord Jim. It is usually taken to refer to national or racial identity or perhaps to membership in the merchant service. However, the phrase also has a biblical resonance. Genesis 3:22 says, "Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil." I think the reason the Intended is not "one of us" is that she does not know good and evil—does not know that there are good and evil. That is the mystery into which Kurtz's final words would have initiated her."There is a taint of death, a flavour of mortality in lies," Marlow says, "which is exactly what I hate and detest in the world—what I want to forget" (HD, p. 82). Yet he does lie, so there must be something he thinks worth saving even at the cost of siding with mortality. What might that be? In the beginning of Paradise Lost, Milton declares that he will sing Of Man's first disobedience, and... (shrink)

Although the _Iliad_ is typically approached as a version of, say, _Catch-22_, the epic is not about armed conflict and its horrors. The war at Troy serves the poet as a metaphor for life. Advanced in the hexameters is an account of the genesis, and a defense, of the humanist view that men and women occupy an autonomous place midway between clods and gods. Plato's harsh criticism of Homer's work comes into focus once Achilles's transformation is interpreted along these (...) philosophical lines. Homer is rejecting what Plato, who flattens human reality and calls it justice, endorses. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Vision of Catholic Social Thought: The Virtue of Solidarity and the Praxis of Human Rights by Meghan J. ClarkJulie Hanlon RubioThe Vision of Catholic Social Thought: The Virtue of Solidarity and the Praxis of Human Rights Meghan J. Clark Minneapolis: Fortress, 2014. 166pp. $39.00In this short, clearly written book, Meghan Clark offers an argument for seeing Catholic social thought (CST) not through its oft-listed principles but through (...) its vision of the human person and its core virtue: solidarity. Against [End Page 227] the protests of left and right, she presents CST as linked to essential Catholic theological claims and radical in its insistence that we are all responsible for promoting the human rights of neighbors near and far.Christians on the left sometimes view CST as well-intentioned but moderate, lacking an analysis of power, and uninspired. Better to read the memoir of an activist or the tract of a radical theologian than to fall asleep over another encyclical on the common good. Clark’s reading of CST counters this portrait with a historical narrative of increasing emphasis on human rights and an ever-more radical understanding of solidarity. Over time, Clark shows, CST moves slowly but surely toward both an affirmation of human rights that includes the duty to promote the rights of others, and a better developed understanding of solidarity as a duty not to serve but to accompany (107–14).While some Catholic conservatives question the authority of CST, Clark ties solidarity and human rights, the “twin pillars” of CST (125), to core theological claims and shows how these concepts develop in the thought of both John Paul II and Benedict XVI (24–39). Her constructive contribution to this tradition is development of the theological foundations of CST, which she accomplishes by drawing on Genesis 1:26–27 and John 17:21–22 (56–60) as well as feminist social reading of the Trinity. She builds on this foundation, claiming that the human community more fully images God as it becomes more united, more equal, and more mutual (60–72). With appropriate social analysis, it becomes clear that “the virtue of solidarity involves an obligation to participate at all levels of human community” (122).It may be that this claim is too sweeping. While Clark rightly questions Amartya Sen’s understanding of “imperfect” or limited positive obligations to distant others (94–96), insisting (with Charles Taylor) on positive responsibility to foster human rights (104), it is difficult to know how an ordinary person goes about discerning obligations in daily life. Once I recognize the enormity of my responsibilities, it is not clear where I ought to begin. Surely I cannot be involved in causes related to every human rights issue. It seems that once Clark’s readers affirm her basic claims, they still need a method of discernment to help them order responsibilities to near and distant others, lest they fall into paralyzing despair.Yet, to see rightly our connections to other human persons and our responsibility for evil is to be appropriately overwhelmed. All of us should tremble in the face of this reality. Insofar as Clark leads readers to this point, she provides an original, timely, and thick description of CST’s claim that “my humanity is bound up with yours” (146). Moreover, she shows that CST contributes something original to human rights discourse by calling solidarity a virtue and rooting it in a relational anthropology (7). By opening up conversation on solidarity as a virtue tied to human rights, Clark constructs a social ethic that is [End Page 228] inseparable from our deepest convictions about life, God, and neighbor. Moving beyond the polarization of right and left, she invites readers to see themselves as inescapably tied to others and calls them not to simple almsgiving but to the much harder task of growing in their capacity to accompany others as they struggle for their own liberation. [End Page 229]Julie Hanlon RubioSt. Louis UniversityCopyright © 2016 The Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)