Metaphysical Meditations is a beloved classic book of the great yoga master, Paramhansa Yogananda (1893-1952), author of Autobiography of a Yogi. First published in 1932, then revised in 1952, this version of Metaphysical Meditations is faithful to the original writing of Yogananda, with all his deep inspiration, uniquely and eloquently expressed. He makes spiritual wisdom seem both natural and accessible to all readers. God and our higher Self become "the nearest of the near, and the dearest of the (...) dear." His words in this book remain with us, loved and remembered, reverberating within our hearts and minds, reassuring us with love and strength. At the bedside, by the meditation altar, and while traveling-one can choose no greater companion than Metaphysical Meditations. Contains poems and prayers written by Yogananda. (shrink)

Concentrating on the major works of Dofine, Marvell, Vaughan and Herbert, Richard Willmott has provided an anthology of metaphysical verse for readers coming to the poetry for the first time. Metaphysical poetry is notorious for its 'difficulty'; in this selection Richard Willmott provides detailed explanatory notes giving in depth information on the period, the poets and 'metaphysical style' and, to ensure a full understanding, line by line exegesis of the poems themselves is given where necessary. The anthology (...) contains about 20-25 poems for each poet represented and a further section of other contemporary poetry which elucidates themes or approaches in the work of the four main poets in the collection and encourages readers to relate an individual poem to a broader context. (shrink)

La structure qui sous-tend la composition du poème de Parménide est très élaborée, il est aisé de s’en rendre compte. La déesse y parle des ensei­gnements qu’elle s’apprête à délivrer et, dans les fragments 10 et 11, elle offre un panorama détaillé de tout un ensemble de questions qu’elle va traiter aussitôt après. Un certain nombre d’éléments métatextuels se trouvent de cette façon insérés dans le texte écrit au premier degré et en interrompent le cours. D’autres passages de texte à (...) métatexte (et vice versa) se rencontrent d’ailleurs dans les fragments, mettant ainsi en évidence de frappantes discontinuités et des change­ments significatifs dans le type de saturation provoqué dans l’auditoire. Tout cela fait comprendre que les enseignements délivrés dans le poème sont immer­gés dans une infrastructure beaucoup plus « construite » et « étudiée », beaucoup plus consciente que celle qui apparaît dans tant d’autres textes de la même épo­que ou antérieurs. D’où l’importance d’une recherche spécifiquement consacrée à la composition du poème dans son ensemble. La formule rassurante de B10.1, « tu apprendras » (εἴσῃ), prend dans cette recherche une importance particulière, parce qu’elle démontre que Parménide lui-même a donné une valeur explicitement positive à ce qui, jusque peu aupara­vant, faisait l’objet de jugements fortement négatifs. Cette incohérence n’est donc pas une conjecture de notre part, mais quelque chose dont Parménide ne peut pas ne pas s’être rendu compte, ce qui signifie vraisemblablement que la seconde partie du poème expose des connaissances auxquelles il était parvenu dans une « phase précritique » de sa recherche. Sinon, à quelle autre explication pourrait-on penser? (shrink)

Giuliana Carugati - The Metaphysics of Dante's Comedy - Journal of the History of Philosophy 44:3 Journal of the History of Philosophy 44.3 474-475 Christian Moevs. The Metaphysics of Dante's Comedy. American Academy of Religion, Reflection and Theory in the Study of Religion Series. Oxford-New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Pp. xii + 308. Cloth, $49.95 Having for a long time insisted on a newly "mystical," as well as a radically contemporary, reading of Dante's Commedia, this reviewer cannot but deeply (...) appreciate Moev's intelligent and well-written book, which addresses the question of the "truth" of the poem, and solves it by pointing in the direction of "self-knowledge, the self-experience of what is" . In other words, the poem represents "how . . . the human soul or intelligence.. (shrink)

Thought experiments are employed for a number of reasons and in many different disciplines. This paper explores the work of Novalis in relation to the method of thought experiments in theology, with a special focus on the encounter between Christianity and the science of his day. In a first step I revisit the ongoing philosophical discussion on thought experiments in order to highlight the lack of interest in the literary features of thought experiments. Step two is dedicated to a discussion (...) of the work of Novalis as far as his metaphysics of phantasy and imagination is concerned as it plays out in his romantic poetry. Building on the results of this discussion, in a third step I discuss the relationship (a) between thought experiments in theology and other disciplines, (b) between current discussions of thought experiments and previous periods of philosophical investigation into the ‘laboratory of the mind’, (c) between Christianity and science, and (d) between literary fiction and cognition. (shrink)

Philosophy-and-literature as a subfield theorizes about the relationship between the two. Though few would explicitly say that philosophy is the point and literature the means, it’s common to see discussions of literature serving as an expression of philosophical insight and uncommon to see discussions of philosophical ideas put in service of literature. So, the aim of this paper is to explore, and suggest one concrete instance of, a literary work where philosophical concepts are instrumental for literary ends. The metaphysical (...) claims in T.S. Eliot’s “Burnt Norton” are not there to make a philosophical point, but to create a new sense of a lyric “now” that produces a time internal to the poem. This is a poetic achievement, and philosophical utterances help to produce the lyric now by foregrounding temporal readerly phenomenology. The example enriches our understanding of the possible relationships between philosophy and literature. (shrink)

I suggest that ubiquitous references made by Confucius to poetic songs in the Analects reveal an important aspect of his philosophy. This aspect involves the assumption that things in the world “resonate” with one another. Using elements of Alfred North Whitehead's thought, as well as metaphysical insights from the Han Dynasty text, Huainanzi, I first present an aesthetic theory along with a supporting cosmological vision that enhances our appreciation of this trait in the Confucian world. With these preliminaries in (...) mind, I approach the Analects itself. I will isolate the term xing, or “stimulation “, and demonstrate how this term allows us to understand the function of poetry for the early Confucians. I conclude that poetry was thought to behave much like what Whitehead called “propositions”, and that this function assumes a world with certain basic tendencies normally associated with Daoist cosmology. (shrink)

Dante's metaphysics--his understanding of reality--is very different from our own. To present Dante's ideas about the cosmos, or God, or salvation, or history, or poetry within the context of post-Enlightenment presuppositions, as is usually done, is thus to capture only imperfectly the essence of those ideas. The recovery of Dante's metaphysics is essential, argues Christian Moevs, if we are to resolve what has been called "the central problem in the interpretation of the Comedy." That problem is what to make of (...) the Comedy 's claim to the "status of revelation, vision, or experiential record--as something more than imaginative literature." In this book Moevs offers the first sustained treatment of the metaphysical picture that grounds and motivates the Comedy, and of the relation between those metaphysics and Dante's poetics. He carries this out through a detailed examination of three notoriously complex cantos of the Paradiso, read against the background of the Neoplatonic and Aristotelian tradition from which they arise. Moevs finds the key to the Comedy 's metaphysics and poetics in the concept of creation, which implies three fundamental insights into the nature of reality: 1) The world is radically contingent, dependent at every instant on what gives it being. 2) The relation between the world and the ground of its being is non-dualistic. 3) Human beings are radically free, unbound by the limits of nature, and thus can find all of time and space within themselves. These insights are the foundation of the pilgrim Dante's journey from the center of the world to the Empyrean which contains it. For Dante, in sum, what we perceive as reality, the spatio-temporal world, is a creation or projection of conscious being, which can only be known as oneself. Moevs argues that self-knowledge is in fact the keystone of the Aristotelian and Neoplatonic philosophical tradition, and the essence of the Christian revelation in which that tradition culminates. Armed with this new understanding, Moevs is able to shed light on a series of perennial issues in the interpretation of the Comedy. In particular, it becomes clear that poetry coincides with theology and philosophy in the poem: Dante poeta cannot be distinguished from Dante theologus. (shrink)

These are indeed "poems from a gentle heart," one which can say, "To be alive today I'm glad." --D. S.

Translation of the section on metaphysics in Sabzavari's "Sharh al-manzumah fi al-hikmah," a commentary on his poem "Ghurar al-fara'id," both originally written in Arabic.

Among those who pay homage to Parmenides as a source of unquenchable inspiration for Western thought, we now revisit the Poem Of Nature as the birthplace of the principle of causality through the elimination of non-being at the origin of being. Indeed in Parmenides’ Poem, a negative conviction can be found—the refusal that the non-being is at the origin of the being—which leads most philosophers to the affirmative conviction that something is at the origin of the being. The (...) two convictions are two rational beliefs which have stimulated ancient Greek philosophy, and have continuously represented a structuring axis in the history of Western thought. With Aristotle, that affirmative conviction was converted into a principle of causality, that is, into a principle which requires a causal explanation for the intelligibility of reality. In Latin Middle Ages, we find a singular figure who promotes the synthesis of the two fundamental beliefs, the negative conviction, explicit in Parmenides, and the affirmative conviction, explicit in Aristotle: It is Saint Anselm. In an initial chapter of his first work, the Monologion, Anselm declares that “nothing is by nothing”, and that consequently “all that is, is not but by something”. All of Anselm’s metaphysics is an analysis and a development of this affirmative rational belief. Therefore, we claim Parmenides’ paternity of Saint Anselm’s metaphysics, of whom one may say he was the medieval Parmenides. (shrink)

Keywords Religious poem - Metaphysical poem.

This chapter considers the philosophy of the years shortly before and shortly after the beginning of the nineteenth century, and in doing so illustrates the claim that the ‘dominant philosophy’ of an era can sometimes be found most clearly expressed in works of literature. The philosophy of the romantic era is characterised by one great metaphysical theme: unity, its loss and recovery. Schiller’s poem ‘Die Götter Griechenlands’, Goethe’s ballad ‘Der Fischer’, Kleist’s article ‘ Über das Marionettentheater’, and Hölderlin’s (...) novel ‘Hyperion’, Craig suggests, all illustrate a fundamental striving towards unity that is lost through knowledge and consciousness, and although they differ both in their assessment of the situation and in their reaction to it, they express a singular awareness of the deep dichotomies that characterise the intellectual climate of their time. At the most general level, the romantic vision was of the oneness of man and nature, the immanence of God in nature, and an element of divinity in man. Deeply indebted to the Image of God doctrine, yet also on the way to abandoning it, these themes inform, and in part anticipate, the systematic philosophy of Hegel. (shrink)

For some decades now, a transformation has been underway that is no less dramatic than the Industrial Revolution, and that just like the latter requires time to be conceptualized. When one seeks to capture the essence of an unprecedented phenomenon, one always uses several, partial, esoteric names: virtuality, Collective Intelligence, Internet, web, big data, artificial intelligence, game… In short, we are all unwittingly drafting a new Visnusahasranāma: a collective poem made up of books, essays, articles, debates, and posts that (...) sings about the thousand names of our Visnu, whose essence however remains unknown. Trying to find a name for this hidden god, I will start from an examination of the current revolution, trying to grasp its specificity, and consequently also its essential differences from the Industrial Revolution; secondly, I will focus on the metaphysical revelation made possible by this revolution (which, like any revolution, does not really transform the world, but rather manifests essential structures that were already present in it, in a hidden or only hinted form); finally, I will devote myself to speculation as to the decisions we must take with respect to the future and the political goals to be pursued with respect to this new world we are living in. (shrink)

A new translation of Parmenides' poem, preceded by a long introduction. M. Beaufret's attitude towards, and interpretation of, the Parmenidean fragments have been influenced heavily by Heidegger, as has, in some cases, his choice of readings. The Greek is included, however, on pages facing the translation, and departures from the standard text of Kranz are noted.--V. C. C.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Eclipsing Art: Method and Metaphysics in Coleridge’s Biographia Literaria *Tim MilnesColeridge’s PredicamentIn his self-addressed “letter” which precipitates the abrupt end to the thirteenth chapter (and with it, the first volume) of the Biographia Literaria, Coleridge likens the current state of his argument to “the fragments of the winding steps of an old ruined tower.” 1 The suggestion of intellectual ascent in this is revealing and is echoed a few (...) years later by his explanation of the pedagogical function of the “Landing-Places” between the essays in The Friend (1818). 2 The underlying idea, as usual with Coleridge, is akin to that of an exercise in intellectual and spiritual mountaineering. The thinker, having established a safe base camp in fixed first principles, gradually ascends to higher truths, which are at the same time taken to be foundational and which form the ground of the whole process. The logical return here is what Coleridge elsewhere explains as the “seeming argumentum in circulo, incident to all spiritual Truths.” 3 In the Biographia, however, this process of simultaneous levitation and descent remains notoriously incomplete, left over for the projected but never completed “great book on the constructive philosophy.” 4 Thus, the procedure initiated in the philosophical [End Page 125] theses of chapter twelve having been arrested, the project of chapter thirteen, “in which the results [of the theses] will be applied to the deduction of the imagination, and with it the principles of production and genial criticism in the fine arts,” 5 is left as a fragmentary exposition in the hugely influential but attenuated and gnomic sequence of distinctions between primary and secondary imagination, and fancy.Consequently, students of Coleridge have been left to puzzle over the “missing” argument for themselves and to explain why Coleridge seems to give up at this point. At least since Thomas McFarland’s Coleridge and the Pantheist Tradition it has been accepted that a significant part of the problem lies with the “counter-pull” 6 exerted upon Coleridge’s thought at this point in time between Kant and Schelling (or, as McFarland sees it, between Kant and Schelling / Spinoza). In other words, it is the pull between a system in which free will is preserved at the price of being declared noumenal and one in which free will is imperilled but set against the goal of a system of total and undivided philosophy at ease with the infinite. The difference between the methodologies of Kant and Schelling, as Gian Orsini noted, is the product of their contrasting first postulates, or philosophical starting-points. While Kant sets out from the epistemological problem of to what extent objects can be said to conform to human knowledge, Schelling asks, “do we deduce Mind from Nature or Nature from Mind?” 7 Each of these presumes a completely different kind of enquiry from the other, and thus a different method; a fact Coleridge appears to have fully appreciated only during the composition of the Biographia.The Biographia’s problems have provoked a diverse range of critical responses over the years. 8 Among these, however, there is a more or less settled [End Page 126] opinion that Coleridge’s failure at this stage to come to terms with the Kant / Fichte / Schelling debate merely added to the difficulty of a work which, having begun its life as a reply to and a rebuttal of Wordsworth’s empirical and associative definition of imagination as set out in the Preface to his Poems (1815), had already far exceeded its initial plan both in scope and size. As the statement of his poetic principles and critique of Wordsworth had turned into a literary life, and this into a broader exploration of his developing views on epistemology, religion, and the history of language, so the “Preface” to the Sibylline Leaves (as it had originally been conceived) now dwarfed that work. Coleridge’s printer’s decision to produce the Biographia in two volumes only served to emphasize the break between its “philosophical” and literary-critical planes and the failure of Coleridge’s declared intention to apply the rules of art, “deduced from philosophical principles, to poetry and criticism.” 9Yet there was always something... (shrink)

I employ William Carlos Williams' poem, "The Red Wheelbarrow" to provide a non-technical introduction to Heidegger's Being and Time. (Note: This Philpapers entry provides access to the full article.).

I develop a phenomenological hermeneutics of four poems by Sylvia Plath: 'Mystic,' 'Ariel,' 'The Moon and the Yew Tree,' and 'The Arrival of the Bee Box.' Inspired by the work of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, I illustrate how we can experience individual poems through the multiple aspects of our embodiment. Importantly, single artworks are treated here with the same respect as single philosophical texts. Heidegger treats poems similarly in his "later" philosophy, which also influenced this dissertation. This emphasis on embodiment does not (...) mean to privilege the body over the cognitive. Instead, the cognitive is revealed as one aspect of our bodily existence. ;Plath's poetic themes intertwine with philosophical questions, such as the difference between instituted and creative language, the nature of gender, and the ethical status of the non-human. For example, Plath's work offers new ways of addressing feminist concerns over essentialism, identity, and spirituality. Plath's emerging notion of a feminine divine resonates with Luce Irigaray's call for a philosophical revisioning of the God of Western metaphysics. Plath's articulations of the body as it lives through pain contribute to the existentialist task of drawing us closer to an authentic experience of death. I show how pain possesses a spiritual dimension for Plath and connect this phenomenon with the act of writing poetry. ;The poetic dimension of language has been suppressed by reductive accounts that theorize language and the body's involvement in language in terms of representation rather than embodiment. I reveal the non-linguistic meanings within the lines and silences of poetic space that impact and alter our bodily being. Poetry allows us to experience, among other things, the flow of lived time, the colors of sounds, and our body's fusion with the world. Significantly, phenomenology bends with these issues in a chiasmic gathering where we can experience the affinity between these two discourses. Phenomenological hermeneutics uncovers the depth of language that is usually suppressed in calculative-rational discourses. ;Through these poetic phenomenological meditations, I open up ways of understanding spiritual and poetic language that impact our ethical encounters with one another, the environment, and the divine. (shrink)

Jorge Luis Borges is acknowledged as one of the great Spanish writers of the twentieth century. On the broader literary scene, he is recognized as a modern master. His fascination with philosophy - especially metaphysics - sets him apart from his contemporaries. Borges appreciated and formulated rigorous philosophical arguments, but also possessed the unique ability to present the most abstract ideas imaginatively in metaphors and symbols. Borges wandered among the great masters seeking a firm purchase that he could not find, (...) and therefore expressed a nostalgia for metaphysics as he lost himself in his labyrinths. Borges and Philosophy traces Borges' philosophical concerns in his tales, essays, and poems and argues that despite his apparent skepticism in philosophical matters, a careful reading of Borges' texts reveals a coherent philosophical path that underlies his work. (shrink)

The sublime in classical aesthetics arrived at a famous formulation with Kant as a subjective quality more elevated than beauty, linked to commotion and respect followed by reaffirmation. However, a new interpretation of the Schopenhauerian sublime is necessary in its transforming appreciation of the importance of this feeling as a psychological state, which is not yet metaphysical as usually understood, when dealing with struggling situations without resolution. Here the focus will be on a variety of the sonorous sublime in (...) contemporary music, which finds resonances with Schopenhauer’s sublime: Witold Lutoslawski’s Three Poems of Henri Michaux for mixed chorus and orchestra focuses on unpredictability and form-contrariness, “picturing” surrealist texts of uncertainty in Pensées, violence in Le Grand Combat, and resignation in Repos dans Malheur. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Metaphysics of Dante’s ComedyGiuliana CarugatiChristian Moevs. The Metaphysics of Dante’s Comedy. American Academy of Religion, Reflection and Theory in the Study of Religion Series. Oxford-New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Pp. xii + 308. Cloth, $49.95Having for a long time insisted on a newly "mystical," as well as a radically contemporary, reading of Dante's Commedia, this reviewer cannot but deeply appreciate Moev's intelligent and well-written book, which (...) addresses the question of the "truth" of the poem, and solves it by pointing in the direction of "self-knowledge, the self-experience of what is" (9). In other words, the poem represents "how... the human soul or intelligence comes to experience itself as divine, all-encompassing, and (one with) the ultimate principle of all being" (58). At a time when reading the Commedia as a "mystical" project is considered by much of Dante criticism as, at best, harmlessly eccentric, this book, in its meticulous use of metaphysical categories, might persuade skeptical medievalists that a lot can be gained by exploring both classic literary texts, and perhaps the entire philosophical tradition, from this perspective.To illustrate how the immensely complex text of the Commedia is organized around the ultimate goal of "divine" self-knowledge, Moevs, relying on a tradition that has its roots in classical antiquity, turns to the cosmological make-up of the poet's universe. The Empyrean, which is the last stop of pilgrim Dante, is the Christian addition to the nine Aristotelian-Ptolemaic concentric spheres of which the universe is comprised, and in the Commedia it represents an "absolutely immaterial and uncreated" quid, the ground of being, the divine mind itself (21). Moevs concentrates on the so-called Primo Mobile, or the ninth of the concentric spheres of the universe, seeing it as the intermediary between the contingent and the absolute, between dispersion and unity: "The Primo Mobile embodies an apparent metaphysical paradox: it is self-sufficient divine awareness and power projected into pure motion and desire, and material reality become featureless extension... and exalted, living potentiality" (38).To see this sphere as one of the avatars of the Platonic world's soul is certainly a wonderful acquisition, although at times Moevs' wording suggests an uneasy shifting of registers from the metaphorical/textual to the "metaphysical": "without the nexus or bridge of the Primo Mobile, there could be no "transhumanizing" (trasumanar), no Incarnation, no revelation, no redemption, no journey... no translation of being into contingent or finite experience, and hence no space-time and no Comedy" (8). Is this simply a general reflection on the ultimate necessity of a divine world? Or does this mean that the peculiar construct that pre-exists the text of the Commedia is what makes the poem possible? Or that 'Primo Mobile' is the poet's own chosen metaphor for the balancing of the finite into the infinite? Is this particular notion centrally important in the poetics of the Commedia? After all, Dante has been trying to define 'deification' all along, from the Vita nuova to the great canzoni to the Convivio. There is one much more visible figure which is invested with "translation [End Page 474] of being into contingent or finite experience," or with significance as "intermediary": the word 'trasumanar' appears in Paradiso 1, where the passing from human to divine is empowered by Beatrice.In his definition of 'experience of the divine,' Moevs insists on distinguishing "pagan" from "Christian" Neoplatonism. A generic Neoplatonic One, described as "above being or existence in any sense, and therefore above the divine mind," is thus opposed to a "Christian thought, both Augustinian and Aristotelian," which "tends to identify the divine mind with pure being" (33). One could perhaps observe that the "above" of, say, Plotinus, can only be seen as pointing to the irreducibility of language to no-thing; as for Christian thought, one would have to forget the gospel of John, and its Word become flesh.From the same "christianizing" perspective, the book insists, a lot more than the Commedia itself, on the sacrificial aspect of salvation: "love is the universal form of the 'knot' that writes and binds the scattered pages of... (shrink)

In order to answer our question, "What is the object of the poem?" we must consider two stages of the coming to be of the poem. This is what unqualified organicists forget. The first stage discloses what is called by A. C. Bradley the "subject matter of the poem." It shows the subject matter to consist of the objects of non-aesthetic experience, with whatever structure they may inherently possess as appropriate to their natures, which the poet employs (...) in the making of his poem. These objects can be classified by the philosopher of culture into four main categories: the cognitive, the aesthetic, the moral, and the religious. The reason for including aesthetic objects as possible stuff which makes up the subject matter of the poem is the fact that the artist sometime uses finished poems in the same way in which he uses the rest of his experience, as when a Shakespeare, a Goethe, or a Marlowe employs old poetry to make new. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"Everything is Breath":Critical Plant Studies' Metaphysics of MixtureElisabeth Weber (bio)In her book Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants, Robin W. Kimmerer contrasts two creation stories that are thoroughly incompatible. One starts with an all-powerful male creator calling the world and its vegetation and animals into existence through words, and forming the first human beings from clay; the other starts with Skywoman tumbling through the (...) air with seeds in her fist from the Tree of Life growing in Skyworld. One ends with the condemnation of woman to give birth in "very severe" pains, with the cursing of the ground ordered to "produce thorns and thistles" as punishment for man who will eat his food only after "painful toil," and the expulsion from the garden; the other ends in gratitude for the collective caring of the animals, with the creation of "a garden for the well-being of all." One includes an original fall from grace whose burden will be passed down from generation to generation; the other acknowledges suffering without a trace of the burden of unearned guilt. One predicts death as a return to the dust from whence mankind was created; the other imagines death as becoming plant and fruit, as becoming gift, a rejoining the spirits of all ancestors, human and others, who surround the living in everything that is. The threat of one is the inexorability of a trajectory "from dust to dust" and the latter's association, with Plato, of something so diffuse that it doesn't merit a concept or idea; the promise of the other is an abiding relationship with all that is, the reciprocity of giving and gratitude, and the gladly assumed responsibility for the "inspirited" land.Kimmerer comments:Same species, same earth, different stories. Like Creation stories everywhere, cosmologies are a source of identity and orientation to the world. They tell us who we are. We are inevitably shaped by them no matter how distant they may be from our consciousness. One story leads to the generous embrace of the living world, the other to banishment. One woman is our ancestral gardener, a cocreator of the good green world that would be the home of her descendants. The other was an exile, just passing through an alien world on a rough road [...].1 [End Page 117]Cosmologies express collective imaginairies that have evolved over hundreds, even thousands of years. The Iroquois story recounted and rendered accessible by Kimmerer is one of countless creation stories that constitute an "important genre in many preliterate traditions" (Zolbrod 5). Kimmerer suggests that even though the Judeo-Christian creation story may have receded into the background of Western collective consciousness, it plays a role in the planet's devastation. What strikes the reader in the story of Skywoman is the centrality of reciprocity, of relation, and, as the woman's name indicates, the significance of the sky. While this might mean, on planet Earth, the atmosphere–the Earth's sky is blue because of the surrounding atmosphere–the implications of the sky's preponderance reach beyond the planetary into the cosmological. The "sky is not what is above. The sky is everywhere: it is the space and the reality of mixture and movement, the definite horizon starting from which everything has to draw itself" (Coccia 218-219) in order to breathe and live.In order to continue to breathe, breathe in the long-term, the long-term, that is, as Barbara Kingsolver put it in one of her poems, "from a tree's / way of thinking" (7), non-human kin's "way of thinking" will need to play a role in humans' self-understanding. Kyle Whyte underlines that it is not enough to respond with urgency to specific ecological crises (fires, flooding, etc.) alone, but, rather, "urgency must be aimed at addressing ecological and relational tipping points together":U.S. settler colonialism, for example, in a short period of time, inflicted displacement, drastic ecological changes, and lost or disrupted relationships with hundreds of species that indigenous peoples depended on through kinship ties for generations. These changes are more extreme than what many nonindigenous persons fear most about moving beyond... (shrink)

This is a translation of a work, which appeared originally in French in 1923, that exposes in considerable detail the doctrine of Giordano Bruno on various kinds of minima. Bruno is justly famous for his teachings on infinity, but is little known for adumbrating atomic concepts through his finalist approach to the ultimate constituents of matter and mathematical continua. The author proposes to remedy this defect by exposing, in a systematic way, the contents of Bruno’s somewhat confusing Latin poem (...) De triplici minimo et mensura, ad trium speculativarum scientiarum et multarum activarum artium principia, first published in 1591 at Frankfurt. Like others of Bruno’s compositions, this is "a tiresome melange of irregular hexameters," in imitation of Lucretius, interspersed with Latin scholia "occasionally more poetic than the verses themselves". In three chapters the author successively details the various forerunners of Bruno’s doctrine ; makes sense of the three minima ; and offers a critique. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Erictho and Demogorgon: Poetry against Metaphysics DAVID QUINT Epic without the gods? The Roman poet Lucan (39–65 ce) created a secular counter-epic inside classical epic, removing the genre’s usual pantheon of Olympian deities and replacing them with Fortune. His Bellum civile (titled De bello civili in manuscripts, alternately titled Pharsalia) a poem about the conflict between Julius Caesar and Pompey, thereby delegitimizes the emperors who succeeded the dying (...) Roman republic, including Nero, the reigning emperor of Lucan’s day.1 They are not part of a divine plan: no such plan has ever existed. In an epic where the gods are silent or refuse to speak, Pompey’s son, Sextus, anxious to know the future, has to seek other means. In Book 6, he consults the Thessalian witch Erictho about the outcome of the approaching battle in Pharsalia. She reanimates the corpse of a dead soldier on Pompey’s republican side and makes it talk (BC 6.419–830).2 Lucan’s scene of necromancy gave birth to a major antimetaphysical strain in the European literary tradition. Among others, Dante, Cervantes, Marlowe, Spenser, Goethe, and Shelley confronted this episode of the Pharsalia and pondered its implications. Erictho’s magic is a figure for poetic making itself. It turns the supernatural into theater— the divine machinery of epic exposed as a deus ex machina— and these authors’ responses to Erictho will shift from epic into dramatic forms. In place of the gods, in place of the epic visit to the underworld, particularly in place of and in response to Aeneas’s trip to the realm of the dead arion 28.2 fall 2020 2 erictho and demogorgon in the corresponding Book 6 of the Aeneid, Lucan presents Erictho’s macabre performance: human witchcraft and intimations of an alternate, eerie numen residing in the earth, a force of nature. Subsequent readers would give this latter power a name: Demogorgon.3 Lucan links republicanism and freedom to a kind of atheism and to historical contingency. He unmasks and strips the props of religion from Caesarism and monarchy. (In vain for the poet: Lucan was forced to commit suicide in 65 ce, after he was implicated in the failed Pisonian conspiracy against Nero.) Lucan desacralizes poetry itself, which here confesses its limits, which are the limits of human mortality, even as Erictho seems, however briefly, to overcome them. No, poetry cannot literally raise the dead: it is a magic trick that makes the words on the page form into images, take life, and speak to us. Lucan answers the criticisms the philosopher and theologian make to poetry by openly acknowledging the false bottom of the hat from which poetry pulls its rabbits. It has no access to a real bottom, an underworld beyond death; it is all representation.4 The philosopher and the theologian may be poets no less than he is, but they do not want to know it, too busy, perhaps, in supporting tyranny over human minds and bodies. Plato and Augustine are two such critics on either historical side of Lucan, and they help us to understand the stakes of the Roman poet’s project. Both were dissatisfied with literature and they wanted to be something more than the great rhetoricians that they were. In the Symposium, Plato demystifies the archetypal myth of poetry, the singing of Orpheus that sought to bring Eurydice back from death: the gods sent Orpheus away from Hades empty-handed and showed him the mere shadow [eidolon] of the woman he had come to seek: Eurydice herself they would not let him take, because he seemed, like the mere minstrel that he was, to be a lukewarm lover, lacking the courage to die as Alcestis died for love, and choosing rather to scheme his way, living, into Hades. And it was for this that the gods doomed him, and doomed him justly, David Quint 3 to meet his death at the hands of women. (179d)5 Behind the words of his shallowly sentimental speaker Phaedrus we can detect Plato’s familiar hostility to poetry, his objection in Book 10 of the Republic that the poet merely imitates the appearances of things and is... (shrink)

Gerard Manley Hopkins once said, “What you look hard at seems to look hard at you.” This phrase not only encapsulates the central emphasis of Hopkins’s poetry but also suggests a proper relationship between philosophy and art. The aesthetic experience of artworks can provide pivotal experiences for metaphysical interpretations, and I attempt to show that Hopkins’s poetry gives such a foundational and informative experience for philosophical investigations. Hopkins develops his poetic expressions based on what he calls the ability of (...) language to inscape and ingress profound experiences of reality. The metaphysics of Duns Scotus in which the particular embodies or transubstantiates the universal underlies these ideas and inspires Hopkins to write poetry. My point is not to say that a philosopher can offer the true meaning of Hopkins’s poetry and that, once we get the philosophical meaning, we can dismiss the poems. Rather, Hopkins’s poetry presents the kind of experiences that a philosopher can use to make meaningful metaphysical interpretations of the world. (shrink)

In this pathbreaking book, which includes a powerful new translation of Hesiod's Works and Days by esteemed translator David Grene, Stephanie Nelson argues that a society's vision of farming contains deep indications about its view of the human place within nature, and our relationship to the divine. She contends that both Hesiod in the Works and Days and Vergil in the Georgics saw farming in this way, and so wrote their poems not only about farming itself, but also about its (...) deeper ethical and religious implications. Hesiod, Nelson argues, saw farming as revealing that man must live by the sweat of his brow, and that good, for human beings, must always be accompanied by hardship. Within this vision justice, competition, cooperation, and the need for labor take their place alongside the uncertainties of the seasons and even of particular lucky and unlucky days to form a meaningful whole within which human life is an integral part. Vergil, Nelson argues, deliberately modeled his poem upon the Works and Days, and did so in order to reveal that his is a very different vision. Hesiod saw the hardship in farming; Vergil sees its violence as well. Farming is for him both our life within nature, and also our battle against her. Against the background of Hesiods poem, which found a single meaning for human life, Vergil thus creates a split vision and suggests that human beings may be radically alienated from both nature and the divine. Nelson argues that both the Georgics and the Works and Days have been misread because scholars have not seen the importance of the connection between the two poems, and because they have not seen that farming is the true concern of both, farming in its deepest and most profoundly unsettling sense. (shrink)

Miller first examines the New Critics’ theory of metaphor, then presents his own views. There is one chapter on Hulme and Richards, one on Empson, Tate, Ransom and Brooks, and a third on Wimsatt, Wheelwright, and Krieger. Chapter Four contains Miller’s position and applies it to some metaphors from the metaphysical poets, and Chapter Five examines the problem of the objective status of a work of verbal art. Miller uses Richards’ distinction between the tenor and vehicle of a metaphor; (...) in "My love is a red, red rose," "love" is the tenor and "rose" the vehicle, and a metaphor occurs only in the tense convergence of tenor and vehicle. With this formal scheme he defines surface and submerged metaphors—the former having both elements stated, the latter having the tenor unstated but implied; Miller distinguishes these from moribund metaphors, like the "foot" of a mountain, in which the appropriate tenors are forgotten, not submerged. He distinguishes positive and negative metaphor, depending upon the emphasis the metaphor places on either the fusion or the resistance between tenor and vehicle, for both forces must operate within a lively metaphor. He distinguishes simple, complex and compound metaphors, to the extent that tenor and vehicle are either simple terms or else contain, each or both of them, metaphors inside themselves. In the case of compound metaphors, sometimes the vehicle can be submerged, and if the critic can find what the vehicle is, the poetic passage acquires a more condensed and unified logical form. Miller’s application of these schemes to concrete instances of metaphor are carried out to good effect. His treatment of the epistemology and ontology of a work of verbal art is less successful; he wishes to accommodate both subjective and objective aspects, but tends to consider a manifestation of a poem as the poem itself. He considers the written documentation of a poem to be marks on a surface which serve as stimuli to the reader’s awareness; but units of documentation are written words, not marks, and the process of reading is not, as he claims, a process of decoding. He distinguishes between oral documentation and performance, but seems to think records, tapes and films are instances of the former; would not memory, or perhaps even recitation by rote, be better examples of oral documentation? He considers Saussurian langue as an example of a "cultural object" which finds manifestation in parole; but if this is so, how can there ever be intermediate cultural objects like poems or stories? Langue would be the only verbal cultural object there is. It would be better to consider poems and stories as cultural objects, and language as a potential matrix for them, much as matter is a matrix for substances. Miller objects to the metaphor of "organism" for a poem, because, he says, when we take a poem apart in critical analysis, we do not kill it; therefore the metaphor of "machine" is better—something that can be taken apart and put together again. But surely the correction here is not to replace organism by machine, but to change one’s understanding of what it is to take apart. The critic takes apart in thought, the way a mathematician does, and not like a butcher. Miller’s book is extremely interesting, asks many good questions, and should be read with profit and delight by philosophers interested in language.—R. S. (shrink)

THE CLAIM that even Plato could not say everything at once nor could have thought or worked out everything at once is, of course, a platitude. It is generally acknowledged that there is development in Plato's thought. But what the development is, is still a much fought-over question. For in spite of all scholarly efforts this intriguing question cannot be regarded as settled in a satisfactory way. This is due not only to the fact that we all look at Plato (...) through different eyes. There are just too many unknowns: We do not know when the dialogues were written nor in what order. We do not know what Plato himself regarded as the result of each of the dialogues nor how they are supposed to hang together. We do not know to what extent Plato himself is in agreement with what he lets Socrates say--or any of his partners. Nor do we always know what, precisely, the text itself says. And we do not know when Plato put the dialogues into the form in which they have come down to us. (shrink)

Short description: Part A : Philosophy, Literature, and Knowledge – Chapter I : Idealism and the Absolute – A. J. B. Hampton: “Herzen schlagen und doch bleibet die Rede zurück?” Philosophy, poetry, and Hölderlin’s development of language suffi cient to the Absolute – P. Sabot: L’absolu au miroir de la littérature. Versions de l’Hégélianisme’ chez Villiers de l’Isle Adam et chez Mallarmé – P. Gordon: Nietzsche’s Critique of the Kantian Absolute – Chapter II: Philosophy and Style – J.-P. Larthomas: Le (...) cas Kierkegaard (1813-1855) ou l’écriture comme dialectique de l’écoute – S. Hüsch: Style et signifi cation. Intériorité et communication indirecte chez Søren Kierkegaard – A. Milon: La question du style en philosophie: la grammaire non-style – C. Van Lerberghe: La question du style dans la phénoménologie asubjective de Jan Patocka – Chapter III: Poetry and Philosophy – J.-B. Dussert: Martin Heidegger en ses poèmes – C. de Roche: The poem and the monad: On the reception of Leibniz‘ monadology in Paul Celan’s poetics – M. de Jesus Cabral: Entre théâtre et philosophie : notes sur la poétique de Maurice Maeterlinck – Chapter IV : Literature, Philosophy, and (new) Mythology – A. Martinengo: La raison hors de soi. Herméneutique et mythe chez Paul Ricoeur – G. Boggio Marzet Tremoloso: Démythologisation comme acte mythopoïétique: le cas de Jason de Elisabeth Porquerol. – G. Coulter: Jean Baudrillard: The Literary / Poetic Philosopher – Chapter V : Literature and Ethics – J. Azoulai: L’Éthique de Spinoza dans Bouvard et Pécuchet: un vertige philosophique et littéraire – I. Vendrell: Can Literature be Moral Philosophy? A sceptical view on the Ethics of Literary Empathy – F. Picon: Envisager Todorov: Poétique, éthique et humanisme contemporain – Chapter VI : Philosophy and Textuality – E. Lecler: La littérature : la mort de la philosophie – J. A. Gosetti- Ferencei: Writing in Philosophy and the Literature and Philosophy of Writing (Plato, Mann, Blanchot) –W. Cristaudo: Bringing Back Character and Grammar: Freeing Literature from Excessive Reliance on Philosophy and Theory – C. Alfano: Parenthesising Cracks into the Ground of Philosophy: The Textuality of Stanley Cavell’s Philosophical Writing – Part B: Perspectives of a Dialogue between Philosophy and Literature: Philosophical Refl ections in Literary Creation – Chapter VII : Philosophical Dialogue and Literature – A. Baillot: Tieck et Solger, un dialogue philosophicolittéraire – V. Altachina: Le dialogue philosophique chez Diderot et chez Dostoïevski – Chapter XIII : Bergsonien Infl uences in Literature – C. Dewas: Bergson et Katzantzakis. Les limites du langage comme condition d’une métaphysique de la littérature – E. Pesenti Rossi: La philosophie à l’épreuve de la poésie : Bergson et Ungaretti – Chapter IX : Wittgenstein and Literature – G. Valdemarca: La revanche du sens commun : Wittgenstein, Musil et la chute de la certitude – A. Leaker: From the ‘numinous glow’ to ‘gut squalor’: Transcendence and the Ordinary in Wittgenstein and Don DeLillo’s Underworld – A. den Dulk: Wallace and Wittgenstein: Literature as Dialogue Concerning the Real World – Chapter X: Borges and Semprun: Writers and Philosophers – J.-F. Mattéi: Borges et la philosophie – T. Capmartin: Voyage au bout de la représentation dans Fictions: Quelques remarques ménardiennes sur Borges et le stoïcisme – V. Capdevielle- Hounieu: Jorge Semprún et l’hybridation du littéraire et du philosophique : pour une ‘fi ction essayistique’ – Chapter XI : Literary (Mis-) Readings of Philosophy – P. Lasarte: Misreadings of Arthur Schopenhauer in Sin Rumbo by Eugenio Cambaceres – S. Roldan: Qu’est-ce qui est fort comme la mort selon Maupassant? La détermination ultime d’Olivier Vertin vue sous l’angle de Schopenhauer – B. Nickel: L’infl uence de Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889–1951) sur la poésie concrète – Chapter XII: The Impact of Philosophy on 20th Century Literature and Poetry – B. Ertugrul: Walter Benjamin et Ingeborg Bachmann entre littérature et philosophie – J. Leclercq / M. Watthee-Delmotte: Michel Henry : pour un langage de la subjectivité. La pensée du roman Le Fils du roi – J. Hobus: “The happiness of the concentration camps”: Reading Imre Kertész’ Novel Fatelessness with Albert Camus’ Concept of the Absurd – S. Frogel: Man without God: Nietzsche, Kafka and Camus Der Herausgeber Sébastian Hüsch, Studium der Philosophie, Geschichte,. (shrink)

Keywords Religious poem - Metaphysical poem.

Miller first examines the New Critics’ theory of metaphor, then presents his own views. There is one chapter on Hulme and Richards, one on Empson, Tate, Ransom and Brooks, and a third on Wimsatt, Wheelwright, and Krieger. Chapter Four contains Miller’s position and applies it to some metaphors from the metaphysical poets, and Chapter Five examines the problem of the objective status of a work of verbal art. Miller uses Richards’ distinction between the tenor and vehicle of a metaphor; (...) in "My love is a red, red rose," "love" is the tenor and "rose" the vehicle, and a metaphor occurs only in the tense convergence of tenor and vehicle. With this formal scheme he defines surface and submerged metaphors—the former having both elements stated, the latter having the tenor unstated but implied; Miller distinguishes these from moribund metaphors, like the "foot" of a mountain, in which the appropriate tenors are forgotten, not submerged. He distinguishes positive and negative metaphor, depending upon the emphasis the metaphor places on either the fusion or the resistance between tenor and vehicle, for both forces must operate within a lively metaphor. He distinguishes simple, complex and compound metaphors, to the extent that tenor and vehicle are either simple terms or else contain, each or both of them, metaphors inside themselves. In the case of compound metaphors, sometimes the vehicle can be submerged, and if the critic can find what the vehicle is, the poetic passage acquires a more condensed and unified logical form. Miller’s application of these schemes to concrete instances of metaphor are carried out to good effect. His treatment of the epistemology and ontology of a work of verbal art is less successful; he wishes to accommodate both subjective and objective aspects, but tends to consider a manifestation of a poem as the poem itself. He considers the written documentation of a poem to be marks on a surface which serve as stimuli to the reader’s awareness; but units of documentation are written words, not marks, and the process of reading is not, as he claims, a process of decoding. He distinguishes between oral documentation and performance, but seems to think records, tapes and films are instances of the former; would not memory, or perhaps even recitation by rote, be better examples of oral documentation? He considers Saussurian langue as an example of a "cultural object" which finds manifestation in parole; but if this is so, how can there ever be intermediate cultural objects like poems or stories? Langue would be the only verbal cultural object there is. It would be better to consider poems and stories as cultural objects, and language as a potential matrix for them, much as matter is a matrix for substances. Miller objects to the metaphor of "organism" for a poem, because, he says, when we take a poem apart in critical analysis, we do not kill it; therefore the metaphor of "machine" is better—something that can be taken apart and put together again. But surely the correction here is not to replace organism by machine, but to change one’s understanding of what it is to take apart. The critic takes apart in thought, the way a mathematician does, and not like a butcher. Miller’s book is extremely interesting, asks many good questions, and should be read with profit and delight by philosophers interested in language.—R. S. (shrink)

The paper studies Heidegger's reading of the poet Stefan George (1868-1933), particularly of his poem "Das Wort" (1928), in the context of Heidegger's narrative of the history of metaphysics. Heidegger reads George's poem as expressing certain experiences with language: first, the constitutive role of language, of naming and discursive determination, in granting things stable identities; second, the unnameable and indeterminable character of language itself as a constitutive process and the concomitant insight into the human being's dependency on language (...) and her incapacity to master in subjectively. Heidegger characterizes this experience as "transitional" (übergänglich). It is shown that in Heidegger's historical narrative, this places George's poem in the ongoing transition (Übergang) from the Hegelian and Nietzschean end of metaphysics to a forthcoming "other beginning" of thinking. (shrink)

The link between language and thought formed a major new exploration of twentieth-century philosophy. Languages nuance our ideas and perceptions. Though from various angles, Heidegger, Derrida, Wittgenstein forged new ways of understanding the relationship between our views of the external world and our culturally and linguistically pre-determined modes of expression. Another giant in this field of exploration is the Romanian philosopher Constantin Noica (1909-1987), who has so far remained generally unknown to the Western World because of the Iron Curtain. The (...) Romanian Sentiment of Being (Sentimentul românesc al ființei), first published in Romanian in 1978, is a philosophical work at the intersection of metaphysics and philosophy of language. The title of this book may be deceptive. "Romanian" does not mean ethnically circumscribed; it does not limit ontology to nationality but rather reflects on how language can carry ontological thought. The Romanian Sentiment of Being invites the readers to meditate on the fundamental theme of being and how it is expressed in a culture in time. This being in time marks the tension between moment and eternity, captured in the fairytale "Ageless Youth and Deathless Life" ("Tinerețe fără batrânețe și viață fără de moarte"), which Noica interprets in detail. The translation of the story will be found in the appendix. Noica also analyzes one of the most famous poems in Romanian, Mihai Eminescu's "The Evening Star" ("Luceafărul"), and readers will find its translation in the appendix. (shrink)

This chapter considers the possibility of Nihilism, that nothing exists, and its alternative, Aliquidism, that something exists. This will lead us into an investigation of the point of positing existing things. The chapter looks at the debate between Monists, who believe in only one thing, and Pluralists, who believe in many. It also considers both radical and more moderate forms of both Nihilism and Monism, including, for example, Priority Monism. The chapter examines four arguments for Monism: those of Parmenides, Spinoza, (...) Bradley, and Jonathan Schaffer. Parmenides of Elea authored a single work, a poem traditionally titled On Nature. In the first part of this poem, Parmenides seems to be arguing for Monism. Baruch Spinoza offered a set of metaphysical arguments that could be interpreted as attempting to show that only one thing exists. The chapter considers the import of Bradley's Regress for Constituent Realism, UPRealism combined with Constituent Ontology. (shrink)

A scholarly annotated epic poem on the pitfalls and tribulations of “good philosophizing”. Divided into twenty-eight cantos (in medieval Italian hendecasyllabic terza rima), the poem tells of an allegorical journey through the downward spiral of the philosophers’ hell, where all sorts of thinkers are punished for their faults and mistakes, in the endeavor to reach a way out of the condition of intellectual impasse in which the narrator has found himself. The affinities with Dante’s Inferno are apparent. Whereas (...) Dante’s poem is about human sins and moral felonies, this one is about philosophical errors and fallacies; whereas Virgil takes Dante through the gluttons, the wrathful, the violent, the traitors to parties and countries, etc., here Socrates takes us through the realists, the skeptics, the dualists, the nichilists, the worshipers of language and easy mythos, etc. And yet this is not just a philosophical counterpart of Dante’s masterpiece, even less a parody. We can’t say exactly when, how, and why it was written, but this is an authentic piece of philosophy, a poem of love, a passionate testimony of militant metaphysics. It is the inspired and inspiring journey of someone, anyone, who is truly moved by the Love for Wisdom and by the grueling purification of the intellect that it demands. (shrink)

Most recent writing linking science and literature has concerned itself with challenges to the epistemological status of scientific knowledge in an attempt to demonstrate its contingency, arguing in the more radical efforts that the structures of science are no more than useful fictions. This essay also includes an epistemological comparison between science and literature, but instead of making grand or meta–statements about the nature of knowing generally in the two fields, mine is a much narrower aim. My exploration entails two (...) tasks. First, I provide a close–up look at a particular type of experiment, called the delayed–choice experiment, which clearly reveals the strangeness of the quantum world. In connection with this experiment, I discuss wave functions—mathematical expressions used by physicists to describe quantum behavior and predict the outcome of experiments involving quanta. Second, I look at Walt Whitman's “Song of Myself” focusing on the meaning of the “self” in the poem. My aim is to treat the object of study in each field as a “text” and to assert and demonstrate a parallel in the strategies of thought and response between physicists (“readers”) pondering the meaning and status of a wave function and poem readers pondering the meaning and status of the poem's self. In Whitman's “Song” we find an attempt to understand complex aspects of human experience that are said to transcend ordinary reality, an effort for which I believe there are parallels in the attempts of modern physicists to understand complex, nonintuitive aspects of the subatomic world. While not making the kind of broad claims eschewed above, I do suggest that this focused study has interesting implications since both the wave function and the poem's self force their respective sets of “readers” to confront questions of ultimacy—to consider, that is, epistemological and ontological issues of more than passing interest to students of science as well as those of metaphysics and theology. (shrink)

John Palmer develops and defends a modal interpretation of Parmenides, according to which he was the first philosopher to distinguish in a rigorous manner the fundamental modalities of necessary being, necessary non-being or impossibility, and non-necessary or contingent being. This book accordingly reconsiders his place in the historical development of Presocratic philosophy in light of this new interpretation. Careful treatment of Parmenides' specification of the ways of inquiry that define his metaphysical and epistemological outlook paves the way for detailed (...) analyses of his arguments demonstrating the temporal and spatial attributes of what is and cannot not be. An appendix presents a Greek text of the fragments of Parmenides' poem with English translation and textual notes. (shrink)

The ancient philosophical school of Epicureanism tried to argue that death is "nothing to us." Were they right? James Warren provides a comprehensive study and articulation of the interlocking arguments against the fear of death found not only in the writings of Epicurus himself, but also in Lucretius' poem De rerum natura and in Philodemus' work De morte. These arguments are central to the Epicurean project of providing ataraxia (freedom from anxiety) and therefore central to an understanding of Epicureanism (...) as a whole. They also offer significant resources for modern discussions of the value of death--one which stands at the intersection of metaphysics and ethics. If death is the end of the subject, and the subject can not be benefited nor harmed after death, is it reasonable nevertheless to fear the ceasing-to-be? If the Epicureans are not right to claim that the dead can neither be benefited nor harmed, what alternative models might be offered for understanding the harm done by death and do these alternatives suffer from any further difficulties? The discussion involves consideration of both ethical and metaphysical topics since it requires analysis not only of the nature of a good life but also the nature of personal identity and time. A number of modern philosophers have offered criticisms or defences of the Epicureans' views. Warren explores and evaluates these in the light of a systematic and detailed study of the precise form and intention of the Epicureans' original arguments. Warren argues that the Epicureans also were interested in showing that mortality is not to be regretted and that premature death is not to be feared. Their arguments for these conclusions are to be found in their positive conception of the nature of a good and complete life, which divorce the completeness of a life as far as possible from considerations of its duration. Later chapters investigate the nature of a life lived without the fear of death and pose serious problems for the Epicureans being able to allow any concern for the post mortem future and being able to offer a positive reason for prolonging a life which is already complete in their terms. (shrink)

continent. 1.3 (2011): 149-155. The world is teeming. Anything can happen. John Cage, “Silence” 1 Autonomy means that although something is part of something else, or related to it in some way, it has its own “law” or “tendency” (Greek, nomos ). In their book on life sciences, Medawar and Medawar state, “Organs and tissues…are composed of cells which…have a high measure of autonomy.”2 Autonomy also has ethical and political valences. De Grazia writes, “In Kant's enormously influential moral philosophy, autonomy (...) , or freedom from the causal determinism of nature, became prominent in justifying the human use of animals.”3 One of the oldest uses of autonomy in English is a description of the French civil war from the late sixteenth century: “Others of the…rebellion entred in counsell, whether they ought to admit the King vpon reasonable conditions, specially hauing their autonomy.”4 Life, and in particular human life, and in particular human politics, is well served by the usages of autonomy . What about the rest of reality, however? Should it be thought of, if it's even considered real and mind-independent, as pure stuff for the manipulation or decorative tastes of truly autonomous beings? We tend to think of things such as paperweights and iPhones as mere tools of human design and human use. To use them is to cause them to exist as fully and properly as they can. But according to Martin Heidegger, when a tool such as a paperweight is used, it disappears, or withdraws ( Entzug ). We are preoccupied with copying the page that the paperweight is holding down. We are concerned with an essay deadline, and the paperweight simply disappears into this general project. If the paperweight slips, or if the iPhone freezes, we might notice it. All of a sudden it becomes vorhanden (present-at-hand) rather than zuhanden (ready-to-hand).5 Yet Heidegger is unable to draw a meaningful distinction between what happens to a paperweight when it slips from the book I'm copying from and what happens to the paperweight when it presses on the still resilient pages of the thick paperback itself. Further still and related to this point, even when I am using the paperweight as part of some general task, I am not using the entirety of the paperweight as such. My project itself selects a thin slice of paperweight-being for the purposes of holding down a book. Even when it is zuhanden the paperweight is withdrawn. Graham Harman is the architect of this way of thinking.6 Harman discovered a gigantic coral reef of withdrawn entities beneath the Heideggerian submarine of Da-sein, which itself is operating at an ontological depth way below the choppy surface of philosophy, beset by the winds of epistemology, and infested with the sharks of materialism, idealism, empiricism and most of the other isms that have defined what is and what isn't for the last several hundred years. At a moment when the term ontology was left alone like a piece of well chewed old chewing gum that no one wants to have anything to do with, object-oriented ontology (OOO) has put it back on the table. The coral reef isn't going anywhere and once you have discovered it, you can't un-discover it. And it seems to be teeming with strange facts. The first fact is that the entities in the reef—we call them “objects” somewhat provocatively—constitute all there is: from doughnuts to dogfish to the Dog Star to Dobermans to Snoop Dogg. People, plastic clothes pegs, piranhas and particles are all objects. And they are all pretty much the same, at this depth. There is not much of a distinction between life and non-life (as there isn't in contemporary life science). And there is not much of a distinction between intelligence and non-intelligence (as there is in contemporary artificial intelligence theory). A lot of these distinctions are made by humans, for humans (anthropocentrism). And the concept autonomy has come into play in policing such distinctions. In this essay I shall to try to liberate autonomy for the sake of nonhumans. I shall do so by parsing carefully the title, which is taken from Hakim Bey's work The Temporary Autonomous Zone .8 First we shall explore the term autonomous . Then we shall explore what the full meaning of zone is. Finally, we shall investigate what temporary means. Each of these terms is of great value. An object withdraws from access. This means that its very own parts can't access it. Since an object's parts can't fully express the object, the object is not reducible to its parts. OOO is anti-reductionist. But OOO is also anti-holist. An object can't be reduced to its “whole” either, “reduced upwards” as it were. The whole is not greater than the sum of its parts. So we have a strange irreductionist situation in which an object is reducible neither to its parts nor to its whole. A coral reef is made of coral, fish, seaweed, plankton and so on. But one of these things on its own doesn't embody part of a reef. Yet the reef just is an assemblage of these particular parts. You can't find a coral reef in a parking lot. In this way, the vibrant realness of a reef is kept safe both from its parts and from its whole. Moreover, the reef is safe from being mistaken for a parking lot. Objects can't be reduced to tiny Lego bricks such as atoms that can be reused in other things. Nor can be reduced upwards into instantiations of a global process. A coral reef is an expression of the biosphere or of evolution, yes; but so is this sentence, and we ought to be able to distinguish between coral reefs and sentences in English. The preceding facts go under the heading of undermining . Any attempt to undermine an object—in thought, or with a gun, or with heat, or with the ravages of time or global warming—will not get at the withdrawn essence of the object. By essence is meant something very different from essentialism . This is because essentialism depends upon some aspect of an object that OOO holds to be a mere appearance of that object, an appearance-for some object. This reduction to appearance holds even if that object for which the appearance occurs is the object itself! Even a coral reef can't grasp its essential coral reefness. In essentialism, a superficial appearance is taken for the essence of a thing, or of things in general. In thinking essentialism we may be able to discern another way of avoiding OOO. This is what Harman has christened overmining .? The overminer decides that some things are more real than others: say for example human perception. Then the overminer decides that other things are only granted realness status by somehow coming into the purview of the more real entity. When I measure a photon, when I see a coral reef, it becomes what it is. But when I measure a photon, I never measure the actual photon. Indeed, since at the quantum scale to measure means “to hit with a photon or an electron beam” (or whatever), measurement, perception ( aisthesis ), and doing become the same. What I “see” are deflections, tracks in a diffusion cloud chamber or interference patterns. Far from underwriting a world of pure illusion where the mind is king, quantum theory is one of the very first truly rigorous realisms, thinking its objects as irreducibly resistant to full comprehension, by anything.9 So far we have made objects safe from being swallowed up by larger objects and broken down into smaller objects—undermining. And so far we have made objects safe from being mere projections or reflections of some supervenient entity—overmining. That's quite a degree of autonomy. Everything in the coral reef, from the fish to a single coral lifeform to a tiny plankton, is autonomous. But so is the coral reef itself. So are the heads of the coral, a community of tiny polyps. So is each individual head. Each object is like one of Leibniz's monads, in that each one contains a potentially infinite regress of other objects; and around each object, there is a potentially infinite progress of objects, as numerous multiverse theories are now also arguing. But the infinity, the uncountability, is more radical than Leibniz, since there is nothing stopping a group of objects from being an object, just as a coral reef is something like a society of corals. Each object is “a little world made cunningly” (John Donne).10 We are indeed approaching something like the political valance of autonomy . The existence of an object is irreducibly a matter of coexistence. Objects contain other objects, and are contained “in” other objects. Let us, however, explore further the ramifications of the autonomy of objects. We will see that this mereological approach (based on the study of parts) only gets at part of the astonishing autonomy of things. Yet there are some more things to be said about mereology before we move on. Consider the fact that since objects can't be undermined or overmined, it means that there is strictly no bottom object . There is no object to which all other objects can be reduced, so that we can say everything we want to say about them, hypothetically at least, based on the behavior of the bottom object. The idea that we could is roughly E.O Wilson's theory of consilience .11 Likewise, there is no object from which all things can be produced, no top object . Objects are not emanations from some primordial One or from a prime mover. There might be a god, or gods. Suppose there were. In an OOO universe even a god would not know the essential ins and outs of a piece of coral. Unlike even some forms of atheism, the existence of god (or nonexistence) doesn't matter very much for OOO. If you really want to be an atheist, you might consider giving OOO a spin. If there is no top object and no bottom object, neither is there a middle object . That is, there is no such thing as a space, or time, “in” which objects float. There is no environment distinct from objects. There is no Nature (I capitalize the word to reinforce a sense of its deceptive artificiality). There is no world, if by world we mean a kind of “rope” that connects things together.12 All such connections must be emergent properties of objects themselves. And this of course is well in line with post-Einsteinian physics, in which spacetime just is the product of objects, and which may even be an emergent property of a certain scale of object larger than 10?¹?cm).13 Objects don't sit in a box of space or time. It's the other way around: space and time emanate from objects. How does this happen? OOO tries to produce an explanation from objects themselves. Indeed, the ideal situation would be to rely on just one single object. Otherwise we are stuck with a reality in which objects require other entities to function, which would result in some kind of undermining or overmining. We shall see that we have all the fuel we need “inside” one object to have time and space, and even causality. We shall discover that rather than being some kind of machinery or operating system that underlies objects, causality itself is a phenomenon that floats ontologically “in front of” them. In so doing, we will move from the notion of autonomy and begin approaching a full exploration of the notion of zone , which was promised at the outset of this essay. Since an object is withdrawn, even “from itself,” it is a self-contradictory being. It is itself and not-itself, or in a slightly more expanded version, there is a rift between essence and appearance within an object (as well as “between” them). This rift can't be the same as the clichéd split between substance and accidents , which is the default ontology. On this view, things are like somewhat boring cupcakes with somewhat less boring sugar sprinkles on them of different colors and shapes. But on the OOO view, what is called substance is just another limited slice of an object, a way of apprehending something that is ontologically fathoms deeper. What is called substance and what is called accidence are just on the side of what this essay calls appearance. The rift (Greek, chorismos ) between essence and appearance means that an object presents us with something like what in logic is known as the Liar: some version of the sentence “This sentence is false.” The sentence is true, which means that it is a lie, which means that it is false. Or the sentence is false, which means that it is telling the truth, which means that it is true. Now logic since Aristotle has tried desperately to quarantine such beasts in small backwaters and side streets so that they don't act too provocatively.14 But if OOO holds, then at least one very significant thing in the universe is both itself and not-itself: the object. An object is p ? ¬p. To cope with this fact, we shall need some kind of paraconsistent or even fully dialetheic logic, one that is not allergic to dialetheias (double-truthed things). Yet if we accept that objects are dialetheic, p ? ¬p, we can derive all kinds of things easily from objects. Consider the fact of motion. If objects only occupy one location “in” space at any “one” time, then Zeno's paradoxes will apply to trying to think how an object moves. Yet motion seems like a basic, simple fact of our world. Either everything is just an illusion and nothing really moves at all (Parmenides). Or objects are here and not-here “at the same time.”15 This latter possibility provides the basic setup for all the motion we could wish for. Objects are not “in” time and space. Rather, they “time” (a verb) and “space.” They produce time and space. It would be better to think these verbs as intransitive rather than transitive, in the manner of dance or revolt . They emanate from objects, yet they are not the object. “How can we know the dancer from the dance?” (Yeats).16 The point being, that for there to be a question, there must be a distinction—or there must not be (p ? ¬p).17 It becomes impossible to tell: “What constitutes pretense is that, in the end, you don't know whether it's pretense or not.”18 In this notion of the emergence of time and space from an object we can begin to understand the term zone . Zone can mean belt , something that winds around something else. We talk of temperate zones and war zones. A zone is a place where a certain action is taking place: the zone winds around, it radiates heat, bullets fly, armies are defeated. To speak of an autonomous zone is to speak of a place that a certain political act has carved out of some other entity. Cynically, Tibet is called TAR, the Tibetan Autonomous Region, for this very reason. In this phrase, Region tries to emulate zone : it sounds as if the place has its own rules, but of course, it is very much under the control of China. What action is taking place? “[N]ot something that just is what it is, here and now, without mystery, but something like a quest…a tone on its way calling forth echoes and responses…water seeking its liquidity in the sunlight rippling across the cypresses in the back of the garden.”19 If as suggested earlier there is no functional difference between substance and accidence; if there is no difference between perceiving and doing; if there is no real difference between sentience and non-sentience—then causality itself is a strange, ultimately nonlocal aesthetic phenomenon. A phenomenon, moreover, that emanates from objects themselves, wavering in front of them like the astonishingly beautiful real illusion conjured in this quotation of Alphonso Lingis. Lingis's sentence does what it says, casting a compelling, mysterious spell, the spell of causality, like a demonic force field. A real illusion: if we knew it was an illusion, if it were just an illusion, it would cease to waver. It would not be an illusion at all. We would be in the real of noncontradiction. Since it is like an illusion, we can never be sure: “What constitutes pretense…” A zone is what Lingis calls a level . A zone is not entirely a matter of “free will”: this concept has already beaten down most objects into abject submission. Objects are far more threateningly autonomous, and sensually autonomous, than the Kantian version of autonomy cited in the first paragraph of this essay. A zone is not studiously decided upon by an earnest committee before it goes into action. One of its predominant features is that it is already happening . We find ourselves in it, all of a sudden, in the late afternoon as the shadows lengthen around a city square, giving rise to an uncanny sensation of having been here before. Objects emit zones. Wherever I find myself a zone is already happening, an autonomous zone. It is the nonautonomous zones that are impositions on what is already the case. Or rather, these zones are autonomous zones that exclude and police. They are brittle. Every object is autonomous, but some objects try to maintain themselves through rigidity and brittleness, like (and such as) a police state. Paradoxically, the more rigidly one tries to exclude contradiction, the more virulent become the dialetheias that are possible. I can get around “This sentence is false” by imagining that there are metalanguages that explain what counts as a sentence. Then I can decide that this isn't a real sentence. This is basically Alfred Tarski's strategy, since he invented the notion of metalanguage specifically to cope with dialetheias.20 For example we might claim that sentences such as “This sentence is false” are neither true nor false. But then you can imagine a strengthened version of the Liar such as: “This sentence is not true”; or “This sentence is neither true nor false.” And we can go on adding to the strengthened Liar if the counter-attack tries to build immunity by specifying some fourth thing that a sentence can be besides true, false, and neither true nor false: “This sentence is false, or neither true nor false, or the fourth thing.” And so on.21 It seems as if language becomes more brittle the more it tries to police the Liars of this world. Why? I believe that this increasing brittleness is a symptom of a deep fact about reality. What is this deep fact? Simply that there are objects, that these objects are withdrawn, and that they are walking contradictions. This means indeed that (as Lacan put it) “there is no metalanguage,” since a metalanguage would function as a “middle object” that gave coherency and evenness to the others.22 Since there is no metalanguage, there is no rising above the disturbing illusory play of causality. This may even have political implications: no global critique is therefore possible, and attempts to smooth out or totalize are doomed to fail. To think the zone is to think the notion of temporary , which we shall now begin to discuss in greater detail. The zone is not in time: rather it “times.” But because a zone is an emanation of an object, it is based on a wavering fragility, since objects are p ? ¬p. When an object is born, that means that it has broken free of some other object. An object can be born because it and other objects are fragile. If not, no movement would be possible. Objects contain the seeds of their own destruction, a dialetheic sentence that says something like “This sentence cannot be proved.” Kurt Gödel argues that every true system of propositions contains at least one sentence that the system cannot prove. In order to be true, the system must have a minimum incoherence. To be real, it has to be fragile. Imagine a record player. Now imagine a record called I Cannot Be Played on This Record Player . When you play it on this record player, it produces sympathetic vibrations that cause the record player to shudder apart. No matter how many defense mechanisms you build in, there will always be the possibility of at least one record that destroys the record player.23 That is what being physical is. An object is inherently fragile because it is both itself and not-itself. When the rift between appearance and essence collapses, that is called destruction, ending, death. When an object breaks, several new objects are born. An opera singer sings a loud note in tune with the resonant frequency of a wine glass. (See the movie included below.) The singing is a zone, an autonomous level of intensity, opening a rift between appearance and essence. The glass ripples—for a moment it is nakedly a glass and a not-glass—almost as if it were having an orgasm, a little death. It is caught in the rift of the singing. Then its structure can't handle the coherence of the sound waves, and it breaks. It is incoherence and inconsistency that is the mark of existence, not consistency and noncontradiction. When things break or die, they become coherent. Essence disappears into appearance. I become the memories of friends. A glass becomes a dancing wave. Instantly, there are glass fragments, new temporary autonomous zones. The fragments have broken free from the glass. They are no longer its parts, but emanate their own time and space, becoming perhaps accidental weapons as they bury themselves in my flesh. Thus Hakim Bey's instructions on creating temporary autonomous zones oscillate disturbingly between performance art and politics, circus clowning and revolution. To play with the aesthetic is to play with causality, to rip from the sensual ether emanating from things new regions, new zones. Anarchist politics is the creation of fresh objects in a reality without a top or a bottom object, or for that matter a middle object: Everything in nature is perfectly real including consciousness, there's absolutely nothing to worry about. Not only have the chains of the Law been broken, they never existed; demons never guarded the stars, the Empire never got started, Eros never grew a beard. … There is no becoming, no revolution, no struggle, no path; already you're the monarch of your own skin—your inviolable freedom waits to be completed only by the love of other monarchs: a politics of dream, urgent as the blueness of sky.24 Bey imagines that this is because chaos is a primordial “undifferentiated oneness-of-being.” A Parmenides or a Spinoza or a Laruelle would read this a certain way. Individual objects, or decisions to talk about this rather than that, are just maggot-like things crawling around on the surface of the giant cheese of oneness.25 Yet he also describes chaos as “Primordial uncarved block, sole worshipful monster, inert & spontaneous, more ultraviolet than any mythology.” This image is of an inconsistent object, not of an undifferentiated field. An object, indeed, that can be distinguished from other things. If not, then the first part of The Temporary Autonomous Zone , subtitled “The Broadsheets of Ontological Anarchism,” is a kind of onto-theology. Onto-theology proclaims that some things are more real than others. Bey, however, is writing poetically, and thus ambiguously. We are at liberty to read “undifferentiated oneness-of-being” as something like the irreducibility of a thing to its parts and so forth (undermining and overmining). This certainly seems closer to the language in the following paragraph: “There is no becoming … already you're the monarch of your own skin.”26 On this view, there is no difference between art and politics: “When ugliness, poor design & stupid waste are forced upon you, turn Luddite, throw your shoe in the works, retaliate.” Since Romanticism this has been the war cry of the vanguard artist.27 To say to is to fall prey to the tired axioms of the avant-garde, and we think we know how the game goes. But OOO is not simply a way to advocate “new and improved” versions of this shock-the-bourgeoisie boredom. Bey's text is certainly full enough of that. Rather, since causality as such is aesthetic, and since nonhumans are not that different from humans, the new approach would be to form aesthetic–causal alliances with nonhumans. These alliances would have to resist becoming brittle, whether that brittleness is right wing (authoritarianism) or left wing (the endless maze of critique). No “ism,” especially not the ultimate forms, nihilism and cynicism, is in any sense effective at this point. All forms of brittleness are based on the mistaken assumption that there is a metalanguage and that therefore “Anything you can do, I can do meta.” I will not be listing any approaches here, as Bey does. Such lists and manifestos belong to the vanguardism that no longer works. Why? Not because of some marvelous revolution in human consciousness, but because nonhumans have so successfully impinged upon human social, psychic and aesthetic space. It is the time after the end of the world. That happened in 1945, when a thin layer of radioactive materials was deposited in Earth's crust. Geology now calls it this era the Anthropocene . Ironically, this period, named after humans, is the moment at which even the most thick headed of us make decisive contact with nonhumans, from mercury in our blood to manta rays to magnesium. Richard Dawkins, Pat Robertson and Lady Gaga all have to deal with global warming and mass extinction, somehow. We now live in an Age of Asymmetry marked by a skewed, spiraling relationship between vast knowledge and vast nonhuman things—both become vaster and vaster because of one another and for the same reasons.28 This means that coming up with the perfect attitude or the perfect aesthetic prescription just won't work any more. Even the most hardened anthropocentrist now has to pay through the nose for basic food supplies, and has to use more sunscreen. Whether he knows it or acknowledges it, he is already acting with regard towards nonhumans. There is nothing special to think, no special critique that will get rid of the stains of coexistence. The problem won't fit into the well-established modern boxes, which is why the “mystical,” “spiritual” quality of Bey's prose is welcome. Of course, when I put it this way, you may immediately close off and decide that I am talking about perfect attitudes after all, or something outside of politics, or other ways that the radical left marshals to police its thinking of the nonhuman. Because that is what is really at stake in all this: the nonhuman in its coexistence with the human—bosons, gods, clouds, spirits, lifeforms, experiences, the sunlight rippling across the cypresses. Bey begins to get at this in a Latour litany in the second part of The Temporary Autonomous Zone , “The Assassins”: Pomegranate, mulberry, persimmon, the erotic melancholy of cypresses, membrane-pink shirazi roses, braziers of meccan aloes & benzoin, stiff shafts of ottoman tulips, carpets spread like make-believe gardens on actual lawns—a pavilion set with a mosaic of calligrammes—a willow, a stream with watercress—a fountain crystalled underneath with geometry— the metaphysical scandal of bathing odalisques, of wet brown cupbearers hide-&-seeking in the foliage—“water, greenery, beautiful faces.”29 This will be conveniently dismissed as orientalism. If we're never allowed to escape the crumbling prison of modernity for fear of imperialism there is truly no hope. In a similar way, the fear of anthropocentrism and anthropomorphism is very often staged from a place that just is anthropocentrism .30 Critique turns into ressentiment . An object radiates a zone that is aesthetic and therefore causal. Because objects “time” they are temporary. Not because they exist “in” time that eventually gets the better of them. Their very existence implies the possibility of their non-existence. Since objects are not consistent, they can cease to exist. But nothing, no one, will ever be able to insert a blade between appearance and existence, even thought there is a rift there. Now that's what I call autonomy. NOTES 1. John Cage, Silence: Lectures and Writings (Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1973), 96. 2. P. B. Medawar and J. S. Medawar, The Life Science: Current Ideas in Biology (London: Wildwood House, 1977), 8. 3. David DeGrazia, Animal Rights: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 5. 4. Antony Colynet, A True History of the Civil Warres in France (London, 1591), 480. 5. Martin Heidegger, Being and Time , tr. Joan Stambaugh (Albany, N.Y: State University of New York Press, 1996) 62–71. 6. Graham Harman, Tool-Being: Heidegger and the Metaphysics of Objects (Peru, IL: Open Court, 2002). 7. Hakim Bey, The Temporary Autonomous Zone (Brooklyn: Autonomedia, 1991). 8. Graham Harman, The Quadruple Object (Ripley: Zero Books, 2011), 7–18. 9. This is not the place to get into an argument about quantum theory, but I have argued that quanta also do not endorse a world that I can't speak about because it is only real when measured. This world is that of the reigning Standard Model proposed by Niels Bohr and challenged by De Broglie and Bohm (and now the cosmologist Valentini, among others). See Timothy Morton, “Here Comes Everything: The Promise of Object-Oriented Ontology,” Qui Parle 19.2 (Spring–Summer, 2011), 163–190. 10. John Donne, Holy Sonnets 15, in The Major Works: Including Songs and Sonnets and Sermons , ed. John Carey (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009). 11. Edward O. Wilson, Consilience: The Unity of Knowledge (New York: Knopf, 1998). 12. Martin Heidegger, What Is a Thing? (Washington: Regnery, 1968), 243. 13. Albert Einstein, Relativity: The Special and the General Theory (London: Penguin, 2006); Petr Horava, “Quantum Gravity at a Lifshitz Point,” arXiv:0901.3775v2 [hep-th]. 14. Graham Priest, In Contradiction (Oxford University Press, 2006), passim: the most notable recent quarantine officers have been Tarski, Russell, and Frege. 15. Priest, In Contradiction , 172–181. 16. William Butler Yeats, “Among School Children,” Collected Poems , ed. Richard J. Finneran (New York: Scribner, 1996). 17. Paul de Man, “Semiology and Rhetoric,” Diacritics 3.3 (Autumn, 1973), 27–33 (30). 18. Jacques Lacan, Le seminaire, Livre III: Les psychoses (Paris: Editions de Seuil, 1981), 48. See Slavoj Zizek, The Parallax View (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2006), 206. 19. Alphonso Lingis, The Imperative (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1998), 29. 20. Priest, In Contradiction , 9–27. 21. See Graham Priest and Francesco Berto, “ Dialetheism ,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2010 Edition), ed. Edward N. Zalta. 22. Jacques Lacan, Écrits: A Selection , tr. Alan Sheridan (London: Tavistock, 1977), 311. 23. The analogy can be found at length in Douglas Hofstadter, “Contracrostipunctus,” Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid (New York: Basic Books, 1999), 75–81. 24. Bey, “ Chaos: The Broadsheets of Ontological Anarchism ,” Temporary Autonomous Zone . 25. This is closest to the language of François Laruelle in Philosophies of Difference: A Critical Introduction to Non-Philosophy (New York: Continuum, 2011) 179. 26. Bey, “ Chaos: The Broadsheets of Ontological Anarchism ,” Temporary Autonomous Zone . 27. Peter Bürger, Theory of the Avant Garde (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984). 28. For further discussion see Timothy Morton, “From Modernity to the Anthropocene: Ecology and Art in the Age of Asymmetry,” The International Social Science Journal 209 (forthcoming). 29. Bey, “ The Assassins ,” Temporary Autonomous Zone . 30. Timothy Morton, The Ecological Thought (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2010), 75–76. (shrink)

The new mythology for which the German Romantic period called was not envisioned as antithetical to empiricism or experiential/experimental knowledge, but rather as emerging in dialogue with it to form a cultural foundation for such inquiry. Central to the mytho-scientific project were problematic theories of sexual division and generativity that established cultural baselines. This article examines the mythological investments of two influential thinkers of the period—Goethe and Schelling. It then analyzes Goethe’s unique merger of mythological approaches to sex and generation (...) with empirical observation in The Metamorphosis of Plants. It next traces Schelling’s expansion of Goethe’s theories of nature beyond their empirical justifications to develop a metaphysics of sexual differentiation. Finally, the article illuminates Goethe’s final reply to the sexual dynamics of Naturphilosophie at the end of his life, through the analysis of a single poem, “Finding Again,” in the collection God and World. Ultimately and in spite of its empirical commitments, Goethe’s more flexible view of sexual correlations would lose ground to the powerful metaphysical mythology of sexual opposition as both scientific and cultural bedrock. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:R. D. Ackerman BELIEVING IN A FICTION: WALLACE STEVENS AT THE LIMITS OF PHENOMENOLOGY The "ring of men" of "Sunday Morning" will chant their "devotion to the sun, / Not as a god, but as a god might be, / Naked among them, like a savage source" (CP, pp. 69-70).' Solar nakedness is deferred even as it is named. The problem for belief is the question of appearance and (...) representation. Things appear as and like.... The phenomenological return to things is also a turn to fiction, as Husserl understood: "If anyone loves a paradox, he can really say... that the element which makes up the life of phenomenology... is fiction. ' " The sun is divine, and it is not; it is both naked and clothed, savage and civilized, source (or end) and means. But such paradox is ultimately unsatisfying, and as we will see with Stevens, the need for belief—for an image or idea of totality—forces the issue of fiction and reality. The Stevens we will have in view is not the Stevens—as if there were such a creature. Our Stevens is the one most persuaded by promises such as those of phenomenology, the one most concerned with decreation (reduction) and fresh beginnings, with discovery and recognition, with imagination, the body, and the earth. This is the Stevens for whom the barrier of language presages at last not absence and difference but fictive recovery of presence and identity, the one for whom poetry represents a way of belief beyond mysticism even as it bodes mythic proximity. Finally, this is the Stevens who predominates throughout the prose (as well as in much of the poetry), who tries mightily to secure a belief while disencumbering himself of metaphysics—but alas, I think, with small success. Although Stevens's association of the problem of belief with the idea of fiction occurs in early poems such as "A High-Toned Old Christian 79 80Philosophy and Literature Woman" and "To the One of Fictive Music," his most intensive involvement with fiction as belief dates from the early 1940s and spans the period of his major essays and his last four volumes of poems. He recounts, for instance, a 1942 conversation with a student: "I said that I thought that we had reached a point at which we could no longer really believe in anything unless we recognized that it was a fiction. The student said that that was an impossibility, that there was no such thing as believing in something that one knew was not true. It is obvious, however, that we are doing that all the time" (L, p. 430). What does it mean to believe in a fiction? That is my main subject here, as we seek out the limits of the phenomenological Stevens. His letters of this period are preoccupied with the problem of fictive belief: "If one no longer believes in God (as truth), it is not possible merely to disbelieve; it becomes necessary to believe in something else.... A good deal of my poetry recently has concerned an identity for that thing.... In one of the short poems that I have just sent to the harvard advocate, I say that one's final belief must be in a fiction. I think that the history of belief will show that it has always been in a fiction" (L, p. 370). The poem referred to, "Asides on the Oboe," begins: The prologues are over. It is a question now, Of final belief. So, say that final belief Must be in a fiction. It is time to choose. (CP, p. 250) Acknowledging that "in the long run, poetry would be the supreme fiction" (L, pp. 430-31), Stevens nonetheless singles out the nominative function of poetry as the essence of its claim to supremacy: "Poetry means not the language of poetry but the thing itself.... The subject matter is what comes to mind when one says of the month of August... 'Thou art not August, unless I make thee so'" (L, p. 377). The quoted line (also from "Asides") underscores the paradox that for Stevens the essence of fiction (the nontrue) is its capacity to nominate the true or the real. This... (shrink)

Agamben’s self-professed epigonism underwrites his entire project, serving as an even more fundamental methodological concept than the signature, paradigm, and archeology. In Infancy and History, Agamben maintains that transcendental experience is no longer a viable source of philosophical insight; philosophers go astray referring their thinking back to an authentic yet esoteric experience that, itself unspeakable, grounds positive philosophical assertions. Neither mysterious nor ineffable, the experience founding philosophy is the completely patent, non-latent, experience of language’s pure exteriority. Rather than “deconstructing” metaphysics (...) by exposing its hidden contradictions, philosophy must “deconfabulate,” telling fables about philosophy to undo its enchantments, since it is through the fable that the spell of silence, which itself originates in fable, can be broken. This “epigonal” method, which follows after the tradition rather than seeking a new grounding, is itself justified through Agamben’s account, in The End of the Poem, of the Italian, as opposed to Germanic, physiognomy and of a specifically Italian relation to language going back to Dante. To be Italian is to embrace the “deadness” of one’s own language, rejecting the myth of the resurrection of the original potencies of a dead classical language through a living, modern language. (shrink)

De-anthropocentrism is the leitmotif of philosophy in the twenty-first century, encouraging diverse and competing thoughts as to how this goal may be achieved. This article argues that the method by which we may achieve de-anthropocentrism is ethical rather than metaphysical – it must involve a creation of the self, rather than an interpretation of the given human conditions. Through engagements with the thought of Nietzsche, Levinas, and Foucault, and a close reading of Baudelaire’s poem “La Beauté,” I will (...) illustrate three ethical commitments essential to de-anthropocentrism: to abandon the claim to knowledge associated with human reason, to remain in perpetual quest of an object, and to transgress the given perceptual structure through aesthetic experience. In contrast to Kantian philosophy built upon universal human reason, art is the ethical arena where each artist creates their own way to relate to the object, while de-anthropocentrism occurs – this article argues – when the artist includes the self as the field of creation. Object-Oriented Ontology in my assessment is the only branch of philosophy that truly achieves de-anthropocentrism. (shrink)