This essay, using works by Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Hazel Barnes, and Elizabeth Fallaize, documents the correspondence between the philosophical content of Beauvoir's She Came to Stay and Sartre's Being and Nothingness (both originally published in 1943). After reviewing the existential/phenomenological philosophical method, this paper examines the two philosophers' letters and diaries to show that Beauvoir wrote her book before Sartre wrote his and that the distinctive ideas and arguments the two works share originated with Beauvoir.

This essay, using works by Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Hazel Barnes, and Elizabeth Fallaize, documents the correspondence between the philosophical content of Beauvoir's She Came to Stay and Sartre's Being and Nothingness. After reviewing the existential/phenomenological philosophical method, this paper examines the two philosophers’ letters and diaries to show that Beauvoir wrote her book before Sartre wrote his and that the distinctive ideas and arguments the two works share originated with Beauvoir.

This article begins by asking if the project to write a philosophical novel is not inherently flawed; it would seem that the novelist must either write an ambiguous text, which would not create a strong enough argument to count as philosophy, or she must write a text with a clear argument, which would not be ambiguous enough to count as good fiction. The only other option available would be to exemplify a preexisting abstract philosophical system in the concrete literary world. (...) To move beyond such an impasse, this article turns to the work of Simone de Beauvoir. Beauvoir's unique aesthetic theory in “Literature and Metaphysics” envisions philosophy as an integral part of the literary text and sees the novel not as an argument but as something called a “philosophical appeal”. In her first novel, She Came to Stay, such a concept of the philosophical novel allows Beauvoir to make an original contribution to the philosophical tradition—one in which Beauvoir rethinks the problem of solipsism—while still creating a stunning literary work. A study of the theory and the novel together thus provides a solid understanding of what philosophers stand to gain from the philosophical novel. (shrink)

This article begins by asking if the project to write a philosophical novel is not inherently flawed; it would seem that the novelist must either write an ambiguous text, which would not create a strong enough argument to count as philosophy, or she must write a text with a clear argument, which would not be ambiguous enough to count as good fiction. The only other option available would be to exemplify a preexisting abstract philosophical system in the concrete literary world. (...) To move beyond such an impasse, this article turns to the work of Simone de Beauvoir. Beauvoir's unique aesthetic theory in "Literature and Metaphysics" envisions philosophy as an integral part of the literary text and sees the novel not as an argument but as something called a "philosophical appeal" (Beauvoir 2004b). In her first novel, She Came to Stay, such a concept of the philosophical novel allows Beauvoir to make an original contribution to the philosophical tradition—one in which Beauvoir rethinks the problem of solipsism—while still creating a stunning literary work (Beauvoir 1954). A study of the theory and the novel together thus provides a solid understanding of what philosophers stand to gain from the philosophical novel. (shrink)

Simone de Beauvoir's novel She Came to Stay follows Françoise and her partner Pierre as their intimacy becomes increasingly entangled with the young and tempestuous Xavière. Many readings of the novel explain Françoise's bad feeling and eventual violence as symptoms of sexual jealousy. The book has also been read as a veiled autobiography of Beauvoir and Sartre's similar entanglement with Olga Kosakiewicz, so that, very often, Françoise's jealousy is assumed to stand in for Beauvoir's own. This article is (...) about misreading in two ways. First, I argue that the common view that this is a story in part or in whole about sexual jealousy reflects a radical simplification of the emotional and interpersonal dynamics of the “trio.” Second, I argue that this interpretive simplification is in fact common in mainstream readings of nonmonogamous relationships, where “jealousy” is used to name any and all bad feelings in the vicinity of the nonmonogamous relationship, and where that bad feeling is interpreted as caused by the nonmonogamy itself. To conclude, I suggest that She Came to Stay, and particularly its notorious ending, can be seen as Beauvoir's depiction—and refusal—of the misreadings that constitute the “situation” of nonmonogamy in everyday life. (shrink)

A convidada [1943], longe de ser uma aplicação de ideias abstratas, foi um dos romances que inaugurou o que Merleau-Ponty nomeou de “romance metafísico”. Não há nele uma perspectiva, mas perspectivas; uma consciência ubíqua que conduz o drama, mas consciências situadas no espaço, no tempo e na história. À vista disso, buscaremos mostrar, ao longo deste estudo, o que caracteriza a dimensão metafísica da existência que constitui o romance de Simone de Beauvoir, por meio da hipótese de que essa dimensão (...) é o que o define, essencialmente. Para isso, utilizaremos tanto as observações da filósofa, elaboradas em sua autobiografia e alguns de seus ensaios, quanto a análise de Merleau-Ponty a respeito do tema. (shrink)

The posthumously published diaries and letters of Beauvoir and Sartre challenge the traditional account of Beauvoir as Sartre's philosophical follower. They show Sartre drawing on Beauvoir's account of relations with the Other in her metaphysical novel, She Came to Stay, as he began writing Being and Nothingness, and point to an unexplored Beauvoirean lineage of existentialism, including Bergson as well as Hegel, Kierkegaard, Husserl and Heidegger, and the African-American writer, Richard Wright.

In this paper, I present a new reading of Simone de Beauvoir’s first major work, L’Invitée ( She Came to Stay ), in order to reveal the text as a vital place of origin for feminist phenomenological philosophy. My reading of L’Invitée departs from most scholarly interpretations of the text in three notable respects: (1) it is inclusive of the “two unpublished chapters” that were excised from the original manuscript at the publisher’s request, (2) it takes seriously Beauvoir’s (...) claim that phenomenological philosophy is often better expressed in novels than essays or treatises, and (3) it views the novel’s main characters, Françoise and Xavière, as one woman who has multiple, contradictory, excessive selves. Thus approached, L’Invitée provides us with a thick description of one woman’s embodied consciousness and thereby shows us with specificity what a consciousness whose underlying structures reflect sexual difference looks like. This consciousness not only experiences itself as being both gendered, categorized, disciplined, and defined and in excess of these genders, categories, disciplines, and definitions at the same time, but also experiences its own self-relation through the presence of multiple selves who are each simultaneously attracted to and negating of the other. As such, the defining features of this consciousness involve experiences that I have respectively labeled “ontological multiplicity” and “auto-jealousy.”. (shrink)

The topic of this chapter, the early philosophical influence of Henri Bergson (1859-1941) on Simone de Beauvoir, may surprise those who remember Beauvoir’s reference to Bergson in her Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter where she denies Bergson’s importance. She writes there of her interests in 1926: “I preferred literature to philosophy, and I would not have been at all pleased if someone had prophesized that I would become a kind of Bergson; I didn’t want to speak with that abstract voice (...) which, whenever I heard it, failed to move me.” But in this case, as in so many others, Beauvoir’s diaries present a very different picture. Her unpublished 1926 diary, written when Beauvoir was eighteen years old and beginning her study of philosophy, contains several pages of quotations from Bergson’s Time and Free Will: An Essay on the Immediate Data of Consciousness (1889), which Beauvoir describes, in an entry dated August 16, as “a great intellectual intoxication.” The entry continues: “whereas in reading other philosophers I have the impression of witnessing more or less logical constructions, here finally I am touching palpable reality and encountering life. Not only myself, but art, the truths suggested by poets, and everything that I studied this year is magnificently explained. Simply a call to intuition…. in short the method that I spontaneously apply when I want to know myself and the most difficult problems disappear. How many things [there are] in the 180 pages of Bergson’s The immediate givens of consciousness” Intriqued by this diary passage, I began analyzing Beauvoir’s early philosophy for evidence of Bergson’s influence, focusing on Bergson’s three most important texts: Time and FreeWill (1889), Matter and Memory: An Essay on the Relation of the Body to the Mind (1896), and Creative Evolution (1907). My analysis uncovered evidence of Bergson’s influence in several of Beauvoir’s important early texts, especially She Came to Stay, Beauvoir’s metaphysical novel written from 1937 to 1941, but also Beauvoir’s essays in existential ethics and The Second Sex (1949). Indeed Bergson now seems to me to be a key to understanding the roots of Beauvoir’s philosophy. In this paper, I will narrow my focus to Bergson’s philosophical methodology, and its influence on She Came to Stay, identifying three Bergsonian elements of Beauvoir’s philosophical methodology. First of all, Beauvoir takes seriously Bergson's criticism of intellectual understanding and accepts his implicit challenge to do philosophy through the novel. Secondly, Beauvoir shares with Bergson a methodological interest in exposing distortions in perception and thinking. Finally, they both rely on a methodological turn to immediate experience, which discloses our freedom. Beauvoir did not follow Bergson completely or uncritically. She did not follow him, for example, in the vitalist system building of Creative Evolution or the mysticism of his later work, Two Sources of Morality and Religion. In Beauvoir’s short story cycle, When Things of the Spirit Come First, written from 1935-37, which Beauvoir describes as “clarifying the genesis” of her later work, (QPS, viii) she satirizes her early intellectual passions, including Paul Claudel’s morality of feminine self-sacrifice, André Breton’s Surrealism, and Bergson's philosophy. Furthermore, Beauvoir’s early work, including She Came to Stay, focuses on an aspect of reality ignored by Bergson’s early work, i.e. the problem of the opposition of self and other. (shrink)

Simone de Beauvoir’s readers who saw a heterosexual ideal in her relationship with Jean-Paul Sartre must have been dismayed by the 1990 French publication of her Journal de guerre (Wartime Diary) and Lettres à Sartre (Letters to Sartre). Discovered after Beauvoir’s death in 1986 and edited for publication by her adopted daughter, Sylvie Le Bon de Beauvoir, Beauvoir’s Wartime Diary and Letters to Sartre recount her sexual affairs with several young women. In Deirdre Bair’s authorized biography of Beauvoir, also published (...) in 1990, Bair describes the young women in question as merely Beauvoir’s friends and reports that Beauvoir denied having sexual relationships with women (Bair 1990, 213-15, 510). With the publication of the wartime diary and letters, Beauvoir’s readers and her biographer were thus confronted with the uncomfortable revelation that Beauvoir had lied to them about her sexual relationships. -/- Given society’s attitudes towards bisexuality, Beauvoir’s lies about her relationships with women may be understandable. But evidence, first discovered in Beauvoir’s and Sartre’s wartime diaries and letters by Edward Fullbrook, that Beauvoir lied about her work in philosophy and her influence on Sartre, is more perplexing (Fullbrook and Fullbrook 1993, 97-127; Fullbrook 1999). Beauvoir earned a graduate agrégation degree in philosophy and authored numerous philosophical novels and essays. But her philosophical work, including her metaphysical novel, She Came to Stay (1943)—the story of an unconventional solipsist who, forced to recognize the existence of other minds, resorts to murder as a solution to the problem of the Other—has traditionally been dismissed as a literary application of Sartre’s philosophy in Being and Nothingness (1943), a view paradoxically encouraged by Beauvoir herself. While the evidence that Beauvoir lied about her work in philosophy may be disconcerting, it does open up new areas of research, as I’ll suggest below, raising questions about her philosophy in She Came to Stay, her philosophical relationship with Sartre, and the wartime transformation in her philosophy that were foreclosed by the traditional reading of Beauvoir as Sartre’s follower. -/- . (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:It Is Going to Be a Long Clinic DaySalvador Cruz-FloresIt was a routine neurology clinic day. I entered the room where one of the residents was seeing a patient that we will call Patty, a 32-year-old long-standing epilepsy patient. Patty was sitting in the chair with her husband by her side. She started screaming at me, complaining that she was tired of feeling sick and unable to do anything. (...) She had been in and out of emergency rooms with a variety of complaints, from passing out to dizziness with nausea and vomiting. She was visibly angry and started cursing me with direct expletives and blaming me for all her ailments.Her husband was quiet and, at times, would cover his face as if he was embarrassed. I felt an initial burst of anger. I felt my face getting red. I made a great effort to stay quiet, leaned on the exam table facing them, lowered my voice, and braced to take the barrage of insults that were coming my way. I had to make a strong conscious effort to control my emotions and let her vent. I felt that if I responded in kind, I would inflame the situation. Moreover, a resident and a student working with me that day were also present in the room, and I felt it was my duty to behave professionally, so I sat and tried to do active listening with the idea of offering solutions to her complaints. I am not sure how long the event lasted, but it seemed like an eternity. As she slowed down, I apologized for making her feel not cared for, repeated some of her complaints, and tried to offer solutions to them, but she would not have it and did not accept anything I said. She wanted to get her prescriptions and leave the clinic. I offered to have one of my colleagues do the follow-up as she really did not want to see me anymore.Patty is one of those patients that when you see the name in the schedule, you cringe and tell yourself, it is going to be a long clinic day. She could be in the group of patients who are considered very difficult. Before me, she had been seen by several other neurologists. They likely also preferred not to see her on the schedule because she is one of the 20–30% of patients that have a type of functional psychogenic disorder that becomes more complicated because of the coexistence of epileptic seizures along with non-epileptic psychogenic events. The latter is a more problematic event because it does not respond to pharmacological treatment and causes a lot of disability. The best way to establish whether an event is a true epileptic event or a non-epileptic psychogenic event is to do continuous electroencephalographic monitoring to capture as many events as possible on video. I tried different combinations of medications to no avail and with significant side effects. I tried to set her up for electroencephalogram home monitoring to tease the epileptic and psychogenic events apart. In truth, her social circumstances, insurance coverage, and economic situation made it impossible to do so. Every time she came to the clinic, she had a multitude of complaints, and she would ask for a medication to treat the problem. Any mention of the potential psychogenic nature of her problems would result in a defensive attitude "so you are saying I am crazy." We discussed multiple times the need to be careful with the medications and the potential bad side effects. I wanted to help her, but with every visit, there seemed to be a barrier, and the visit would end on bad terms. At least, that is how I felt. I was left every time, with a feeling of frustration. I believe that she left the clinic feeling the same. That day, I left the clinic upset and depressed. I tried to convince myself I had done all I could to help her. I just could not understand why this was the result.Several years have passed since I have seen Patty in the clinic. She certainly has not... (shrink)

In this paper, we argue for the importance of incorporating a gendered perspective for the effective development of sustainable agricultural biotechnology systems in sub-Saharan Africa. Priority setting for agricultural policy and project development requires attention to gender issues specific to the demands of agricultural biotechnology. This is essential for successfully addressing food security and poverty reduction in sub-Saharan Africa (SSA). There has been a great deal of debate and literature on the implications of gender in agricultural development and policy. However, (...) the implications of gender in agricultural biotechnology and have received relatively less attention, especially in SSA. Based on interviews with key stakeholders in agricultural biotechnology across SSA, review of pertinent literature and field observations, we have found that incorporating a gendered perspective is critical for the sustainable development of agricultural biotechnology and requires attention in five areas: the inclusion of women, particularly women farmers, in decision-making around biotech/genetically modified (GM) crop and trait selection; equal representation of women as men in education for agricultural science and in agricultural biotechnology research and development professions; greater involvement of women in extension services and farmers’ associations for successful delivery of information about biotech crops equality between men and women in access to resources for biotech/GM crop cultivation; and increased control for women farmers over biotech/GM crop management and income generation. We explain the consequences of failing to include such gender-responsive considerations into priority setting for agricultural biotechnology development and policy in SSA and provide recommendations for how policy makers and project partners of development initiatives can avoid such oversights. (shrink)

Contents: "Analysis of Claude Bernard's Introduction to the Study of Experimental Medicine," "Two Unpublished Chapters from She Came to Stay," "Pyrrhus and Cineas," "A Review of The Phenomenology of Perception by Maurice Merleau-Ponty," "Moral Idealism and Political Realism," "Existentialism and Popular Wisdom," "Jean-Paul Sartre," "An Eye for an Eye," "Literature and Metaphysics," "Introduction to an Ethics of Ambiguity," "An Existentialist Looks at Americans," and "What is Existentialism?".

This stuff is everywhere -- The damage that it does -- On weasel words -- Building your own bullshitometer -- Noble monkeys: where we all came from -- The wonderful power of woo -- Bugs, bodies: mysteries of medicine -- Implacable foes of reason: the antivaxers -- No hoax: the truth about climate change -- That isn't exactly how it went: faking history -- Coprolite claims: faking archaeology -- All the news that's fit to fake.

This article explicates the meaning of the paradox from the perspective of sexual difference, as articulated by Simone de Beauvoir. I claim that the self, the other, and their becoming are sexed in Beauvoir’s early literary writing before the question of sexual difference is posed in The Second Sex (1949). In particular, Beauvoir’s description of Françoise’s subjective becoming in the novel She Came to Stay (1943) anticipates her later systematic description of ‘the woman in love’. In addition, I (...) argue that the different existential types appearing at the end of The Second Sex (the narcissist, the woman in love, the mystic, and the independent woman) are variations of a specific feminine, historically changing paradox of subjectivity. According to this paradox, women, in a different mode than men, must become what they ontologically “are”: beings of change and self-transcendence that have to realise the human condition in their concrete, singular lives. My interpretation draws on Kierkegaardian philosophy of existence, phenomenology, and early psychoanalysis. (shrink)

ABSTRACT The ethics of reciprocity offered by Simone de Beauvoir is founded upon an irreducible epistemic gap between self and other. This gap is often overlooked by commentators, who have tended to imply that the ethics of reciprocity requires recognition of oneself in the other. I claim that Beauvoir's ethics forecloses such recognition of oneself in the other and reveals that it is at once illusory and dangerous. Recognition in this sense is based upon a false notion of self and (...) constitutes a violation of the alterity of the other. I argue that Beauvoir stages this dangerous form of recognition in her novel She Came to Stay, while her claims about reciprocity in The Second Sex provide an image of a different, more positive recognition capable of respecting alterity. Finally, I claim that the epistemic gap characteristic of reciprocity also holds with respect to one's self-relation. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:To Nurse BetterJaime HenselWhen things were quiet again I asked him what training he’d had to become the director of hospital security. “I worked for 20 years in corrections,” he answered proudly, and I was saddened but not surprised.In September 2010 I started an accelerated graduate entry nurse practitioner program to become a family nurse practitioner. Accelerated programs leave little time for preamble, since the idea is to take (...) a total novice and turn her first into a nurse and then into a nurse practitioner in just three years. While the classroom information was vital, it was our clinical experiences that really initiated us into the profession. In just the second week of school, we were divided into small groups and assigned to clinical preceptors—hands–on teachers who introduced us to our first patients, curbed our mistakes, quelled our fears, and pushed and pulled and cajoled us into being nascent healthcare providers. In showing us how to give bed baths, suction secretions, insert Foley catheters, and hang IV bags, our preceptors really began showing us how to use our hands as healers.In that first semester my patients also proved to be invaluable instructors. Talking to them, administering their medication, washing their bodies made me keenly aware of the delicate balance of vulnerability and power and trust and respect and intimacy that underlies all healthcare relationships. I hope, wherever those patients are now, they know how deeply I appreciate their patience and good humor and their collusion in my education.In December, the first semester and the first clinical rotations ended. Four months into nursing school I had a basic understanding of what it means to be a nurse. Frankly, most days I still felt like an impostor in blue pajamas sporting a stethoscope I didn’t really know how to use and new Dansko clogs that squeaked with every step. But in an accelerated program, fast and furious is the name of the game. We went away for winter break—a much needed breather—and came back to something completely different: psychiatric nursing.In preparation for these new clinicals, we were taught in class that we should not wear dangly jewelry or stethoscopes. That we should never let the patient get between us and the door. That psychiatric (psych) patients could escalate quickly; psych patients could have surprising triggers; psych patients could be very unpredictable. And psych patients could be violent. We were taught about physical and chemical restraints, and about show of force. We were cautioned, as students, to stay out of the way if things got tense on the floor. In stark contrast to medical patients, psych patients were made to sound less like people who had diseases and more like adversaries. I drove to my first day on the floor with trepidation.My new preceptor had spent her entire career in psych. She loved her job, loved the care of psychiatric patients. She set up a rotation because she wanted our entire clinical group to get full exposure to the breadth of psychiatric services offered by this medium–sized community hospital. We would each get to spend shifts on the locked psych floor, observing outpatient group therapy sessions, and in the psych emergency department (ED).I rotated to the psych ED for the first time on a Friday night. The first couple hours of the shift were very slow. I started talking to the mustachioed guard on duty, who looked as bored as I felt. He told me about his kids, I told him about nursing school. He seemed nice.When our conversation flagged, I explored the psych ED. It didn’t take long—just a short hallway with a bathroom, the social workers’ office, and two patient rooms without doors. The majority of the designated psych beds were actually around the corner in the main room of the medical ED—stretchers lined against the wall, without curtains or any [End Page 98] other attempt at privacy. I noticed that from where the guard stood at the corner of the psych hall he had a pretty good view of all the beds. Then again, so did most of the other patients... (shrink)

While The Second Sex is usually taken as Simone de Beauvoir's major theoretical contribution to feminism, in the 1960s and 1970s it was very often through her autobiographies – especially Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter, The Prime of Life, and Force of Circumstance, along with novels such as She Came to Stay and The Mandarins – that her feminist ideas were most thoroughly absorbed. The autobiographies became nothing less than a guide for the fashioning of a new kind (...) of feminine self. Where The Second Sex had intimated that a significant aspect of human liberation lay in women not losing their identity or their sense of self in those of men, it was the autobiographies which suggested and demonstrated in great detail how this might be done. In them, the rejection of conventional marriage and children was no mere slogan, but the foundation of what seemed to young female readers to be a fascinating and challenging life. In this paper, I reflect on de Beauvoir and her historical and contemporary relevance: first through reminiscence and re-reading of the autobiographies themselves; then with an historical examination of how they were read, taking Sydney, Australia, as my example; and finally by offering some reflections on subsequent feminist critique. (shrink)

The author explores the views of two famous philosophers and one-time lovers about the self-other relation, particularly in the context of romantic love. In Being and nothingness , Jean-Paul Sartre famously wrote that any mode of relation between two subjectivities is doomed to fail. One of these modes is love, which is the desire to possess another freedom without altering its fundamental characteristic as a freedom. In contrast to Sartre, meanwhile, Simone de Beauvoir hints at the possibility of non-possessive reciprocal (...) relations in her philosophical novel, She came to stay . In light of such considerations as the relationship between love and the construction of self, and that between love and freedom, Dela Cruz evaluates the respective merits of the two thinkers’ views. She concludes the paper with a brief analysis of the lyrics of a contemporary song performed by Seal, entitled “Love’s Divine.” The song has an existential theme as it links love with the naming of another subjectivity: “Give me love, love is what I need to help me know my name.”. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The View from Pȏle NordSartre, Beauvoir, and Girard on Mimesis, Embodiment, and DesireMartha J. Reineke (bio)Simone Beauvoir's novel She Came to Stay immerses readers in a 1930s Parisian social scene, thanks in part to the character Françoise. Eavesdropping with Françoise on a man and woman seated at a table in the Pȏle Nord café, readers of the novel hear the woman confide, "I've never been able to (...) follow the rules of flirting. I have a morbid horror of being touched."1 As Françoise invites us to turn our gaze toward another couple seated nearby, we observe a possible instance of the very discomfort to which the first woman has attested. A hapless female looks "uncertainly at a man's huge (grosse) hand that has just pounced on hers (s'abattre sur)."2 Of these two scenes from She Came to Stay, Jean-Paul Sartre memorializes only the second.3 As described by Sartre in Being and Nothingness, a man and a woman on their first date are seated at a table. The man "takes" (prend) the hand of a woman and holds it between "his warm hands" (les mains chaudes) while the woman makes her hand inert, even as she "permits herself to enjoy his desire."4 Thanks to the pervasive influence of Being and Nothingness on the philosophical canon, the disquieting scene Françoise describes in She Came to Stay largely has been forgotten. Sartre sets the [End Page 1] terms for the unfortunate woman's ongoing life: She is a paradigm of "bad faith." Two decades later, her immortality is secured by René Girard: The woman is a prime exemplar of coquetry, a "fundamental" concept in the development of Girard's theory of mimetic desire.5In the wake of today's #metoo headlines, we may find ourselves eager to weigh in anew on the scene at Pȏle Nord. Are we witnesses to flirtation? Seduction? Unwanted sexual attention? Debates about coercion and guile, predators and prey, are unlikely to be productive; after all, Girard has advised that participants in such debates flounder in a problematic victimology.6 Nevertheless, Sartre and Girard's fascination with the mise en scène at Pȏle Nord warrants reexamination on other grounds. Sartre's discussion of the young woman beset by bad faith in Being and Nothingness is one of several instances in which Sartre is shown exerting a significant influence on Girard. Focusing closely on these occurrences, we can identify features of Sartrian existentialism that contribute constructively to the development of Girard's thought. So also can we uncover a problematic view of the body in mimetic theory. Girard shares with Sartre a profound ambivalence toward embodiment. An alternative perspective visible in Beauvoir's writing could enhance the treatment of the body and eroticism in mimetic theory.Girard's early work attests to Sartre's influence. Writing in Evolution of Desire, Cynthia Haven introduces the topic of Sartre's impact on Girard by recounting Parisian intellectuals' responses to tensions between Camus and Sartre: "Everyone took one side or the other." Girard's friends reported that Girard "was on the Sartre side."7 In an interview with Rebecca Adams, Girard states that "I was influenced by Sartre and Camus, like other people of my generation, especially by Sartre."8 Girard acknowledges Sartre's influence in several other contexts. In a 2007 interview with Pierpaolo Antonello, Girard recalls his early philosophical interests: "… From Sartre I went to Merleau-Ponty and all the authors related to phenomenology, which fascinated me and for a while I wanted to write in the phenomenological style."9 Commenting in the 2008 preface to La Conversion de l'art, Girard states that he is struck by the Sartrian "tone" of his own writing.10 Scholarly explorations of the specifics of the influence of Sartre on Girard have cataloged the most important Sartrian concepts: a lack of being, the in-itself/for-itself (en-soi/pour-soi); the "projet"; patterns of desire (e.g., masochism and sadism), and bad faith.11 These themes are discussed in what follows, with special attention to Girard and Sartre's perspectives on human... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:I Know You Have to Stay … I Wish I Could, I Wish I CouldMegan K. SkaffIn the world of healthcare, I advocate for the scores of youth who have had Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs). I work to understand where the child has been so we can learn the extent of the trauma that the child has been through. While working for a facility as the Street Outreach (...) Case Manager, my priority was based mainly on one girl, let us call her Tawny. I knew Tawny was going to be a very difficult client to work with the moment I realized she did not trust anyone in her own life, let alone the facility I worked in. She would not talk to a single staff member. However, being her case manager, it was my job to get her to trust me so I could crack her case and really get down to the problems she was facing. I promised myself the day I met Tawny that I would never cast one judgment upon this girl, and I made good on that promise until this very day.I find it true that we are all raised in different situations. Tawny endured such horrific childhood experiences that she voluntarily entered herself into our organization. My specialty was the homeless and runaway case manager. Hence, the reason she ended up on my caseload. After running many different tests, I learned that her ACEs score was a ten out of ten. To her, everything she had endured that warranted this score was baseline normal; she did not see her experiences as traumatic, she just saw them as a piece of her life. For me as her case manager, looking at this ten was devastating. I wanted to know everything I could that went into this high score. I needed Tawny to learn to trust me so I could understand what was going on in her home life and better understand her and her trust issues.Just a side note, the staff around me strongly hated Tawny. The worst part about this was that she knew it because they vocalized it. The staff [End Page 5] was so horrible that they would not even pretend to her face that they liked her. The one job they had as staff—to make her feel welcomed and loved in an environment full of broken kids—they could not do. There was no question as to why I struggled to build a relationship with my most vulnerable yet strongest client. Tawny would not let anyone see her as vulnerable. She did not want to be vulnerable because to her vulnerability meant weakness.I was determined to build a solid foundation of trust with Tawny. It was difficult, but I did it. At best, this process took weeks, maybe close to over a month. After many days of her asking other staff, "why is this b**** still in here," and her finally, slowly inching closer to me to say, "Sup," and me answering, "Just waiting for you to talk to me." This answer would make her smile, even though she tried hard not to. As much as she did not want it to be true, I was the only person she wanted to hang out with on the floor. She did not want anything to do with the kids or the staff. She knew the kids on the floor were toxic for her, and she wanted a better life for herself. She knew the staff were toxic for her as well.She started to ask daily where I was, so I started making sure I was on the floor every day. I gave her my work cell and wrote it in the call book along with a message that she had permission to call at any time, no matter day or night. Staff hated that. I did not care. Let me tell you, she tested it to its limits. If she called me at 3:00 AM, I would answer. She would say she was calling to say goodnight; when really, she just needed to know someone would be there. She needed to know she could trust me... (shrink)

Evangelical Christianity is often thought of as oppressive to women. The #MeToo era, when many women hit a breaking point with rampant sexism, has also reached evangelical communities. Yet more than thirty million women in the United States still identify as evangelical. Why do so many women remain in male-dominated churches that marginalize them, and why do others leave? In each case, what does this cost them? The Struggle to Stay is an intimate and insightful portrait of single women's (...) experiences in evangelical churches. Drawing on unprecedented access to churches in the United States and the United Kingdom, Katie Gaddini relates the struggles of four women, interwoven with her own story of leaving behind a devout faith. She connects these personal narratives with rigorous analysis of Christianity and politics in both countries, and contextualizes them through interviews with more than fifty other evangelical women. Gaddini grapples with the complexities of obedience and resistance for women within a patriarchal religion against the backdrop of a culture war. Her exploration of how women choose to leave or remain in environments that constrain them is nuanced and personal, telling powerful stories of faith, community, isolation, and loss. Bringing together meticulous research and deep empathy, The Struggle to Stay provides a revelatory account of the private burdens that evangelical women bear. (shrink)

Written from September 1939 to January 1941, Simone de Beauvoir’s Wartime Diary gives English readers unabridged access to one of the scandalous texts that threaten to overturn traditional views of Beauvoir’s life and work. The account in Beauvoir’s Wartime Diary of her clandestine affair with Jacques Bost and sexual relationships with various young women challenges the conventional picture of Beauvoir as the devoted companion of Jean-Paul Sartre, just as her account of completing her novel She Came to Stay (...) at a time when Sartre’s philosophy in Being and Nothingness was barely begun calls into question the traditional view of Beauvoir’s novel as merely illustrating Sartre’s philosophy. Most important, the Wartime Diary provides an exciting account of Beauvoir’s philosophical transformation from the prewar solipsism of She Came to Stay to the postwar political engagement of The Second Sex. Cast in the crucible of the Nazi Occupation, Beauvoir’s existentialist ethics reflects dramatic collective experiences, such as joining the tide of refugees fleeing the German invasion in June 1940, as well as the courageous reaffirmation of her individuality in constructing a humanist ethics of freedom and solidarity in January 1941. (shrink)

This chapter focuses on the dialectic of desire in She Came to Stay. What it seeks to show is that this dialectic is not strictly a Hegelian or Kojèvean one but in fact introduces a similar transformation of this dialectic similar to the one we find in Lacan. As such, She Came to Stay is not an incomplete or insufficient restaging of the dialectical constitution of the subject of consciousness; instead it presents the dialectic of desire (...) as constitutive of a split subject – what Lacan will describe as the subject of the unconscious. This chapter interprets Beauvoir's account of the dialectic of desire in She Came to Stay in Lacanian terms, and to take up The Second Sex in light of this thesis. (shrink)

This paper analyzes two forms of “flight from freedom” embodied by characters in Beauvoir’s fiction, connecting these portrayals to the situation of women as described in The Second Sex as well as the discussion of social freedom in The Ethics of Ambiguity. The characters under consideration are Monique from the story “The Woman Destroyed” and Françoise from the novel She Came to Stay, who represent flight from freedom in related but distinct ways. My claim is that considering these (...) two characters in conjunction allows us to see the two decisive moments of Beauvoir’s theory of authentic freedom in negative manifestations. Monique attempts to make herself into an object by abdicating her freedom, while Françoise takes herself for a sovereign subject and is unable to recognize the freedom of others. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reading The Second Sex Sixty Years LaterJulia KristevaTranslated by Timothy HackettPublished in 1949, today The Second Sex is a youthful sixty-year-old woman who has created a scandal, but also a school of thought: She marks a decisive stage in women's liberation and continues to accelerate it.Let's try to place ourselves in that year, 1949: The world has barely dressed its wounds from World War II and onto the scene (...) steps a young French woman—from an aristocratic and Catholic background, enjoying a liberal lifestyle and endowed with philosophical tenacity, pedagogical talents, and contagious style without precedent—who announces to her dumbfounded readers that the second sex is free. To be sure, she immediately issues the following qualification, "the free woman is just being born" (Beauvoir 2010, 751), and this remains the case today. It is, however, already a global phenomenon, one that has not yet finished leaving its effects, since what is at stake is a veritable anthropological revolution: I say "anthropological revolution" for, beyond the freedom of choice with respect to maternity and the right to social, economic, and political equality, what is at stake is a new form of assuring the continuity of the human species along with the bold definition of transcendence as freedom. What becomes of humanity if birth, freedom, and the spectacle are put in the hands of women? Obscurantists, fundamentalists, and puritans of all stripes become alarmed and decry the scandal. If the future is hereby opened up—with all the risks that this entails—does it welcome and offer new possibilities?This anthropological revolution has been in preparation since the beginning of time. The British suffragettes inscribed it in their political agenda and feminist movements after May '68 intended to deepen it. But this revolution [End Page 137] [elle] only became conscious of its magnitude and took the world by storm, thanks to the experience and the pen of Simone de Beauvoir.Simone de Beauvoir (1908-1986) is already a well-known philosopher and writer by 1949, when she begins to create something of a scandal: she has already published She Came to Stay, Pyrrhus and Cineas, The Blood of Others, Who Shall Die?, All Men Are Mortal, The Ethics of Ambiguity, and America Day By Day. Along with Jean-Paul Sartre and in the wake of the burgeoning (naissant) existentialist movement (whose genesis she would intimately describe in Les Mandarins, 1954), Simone de Beauvoir pursues an experience that is at once personal and political, as well as a philosophical project whose central theme and absolute objective is freedom, which she understands as a form of revolt and non-consent. It remains important to emphasize this today as we begin the third millennium, a time in which freedom, revolt, and non-consent tend to disappear in favor of other concerns that reflect a globalized world: fear, security, adaptation, and integration."Freedom" lies at the heart of the life and the work of the one whom the hostile press disparagingly calls "Sartrean." The freedom of Madame Roland, who acknowledged, "Oh what crimes are committed in thy name," is the same freedom whose risks Simone de Beauvoir downplays in The Ethics of Ambiguity, a work that denounces the ambivalent fascination with communism found in other existentialists.Freedom nevertheless; above all and at all costs: For Simone de Beauvoir, freedom (elle) remains and will remain the inextinguishable star that has incessantly guided philosophical inquiry since Socrates; inspired the noble heights of Christian thought, particularly in Pascal (who deemed man more noble than the universe that crushes him, for he knows that he dies while the universe doesn't). It is the same freedom that fueled the rebellious bodies and spirits of the Enlightenment; that forged the style of great European literature; it is the same freedom that animates Hegel's dialectic and even modern phenomenology, which existentialism takes as its support. So many references and experiences resonate in the work of this forty-year-old author as she sets out to write The Second Sex.Her first novels recount the relentless struggles that women undergo (jealousy, abandonment, solitude, violence, various injustices) in order to extricate themselves from their... (shrink)

For Beauvoir, literature provides unique access into the concrete life out of which philosophical reflection is born. Nowhere are the complications of ambiguous ethical choice more sensitively portrayed in her writings than in her fictional characters – particularly her women – as they navigate their way through webs of deceit, patriarchal control, manipulation, authenticity, desire, and passion in an attempt to ground their identities in a kind of absolute meaning. This chapter explores the theme of failed feminine identity‐formation in three (...) characters from Beauvoir's literary corpus: Françoise from She Came to Stay, Régine from All Men Are Mortal, and Monique from the short story, “The Woman Destroyed.” All three characters touch on themes surrounding the desire for and ultimate failure to obtain fixed meaning and an absolute identity. (shrink)

For philosophers familiar with the traditional interpretation of Simone de Beauvoir as a literary writer and philosophical follower of Jean-Paul Sartre, Beauvoir’s 1926-27 student diary is a revelation. Inviting an exploration of Beauvoir’s early philosophy foreclosed by the traditional interpretation, the student diary reveals Beauvoir’s early dedication to becoming a philosopher and her early formulation of philosophical problems and positions usually attributed to Sartre’s influence, such as the central problem of “the opposition of self and other,” years before she first (...) met Sartre in 1929.… Reading the student diary within a larger historical context, we discover that it reflects Beauvoir’s experience as one of the first generation of French women to gain full access to the academic world of philosophy, an experience that problematizes her identity as a woman. The diary shows Beauvoir struggling to accommodate herself to the male world of philosophy while striving to make philosophy her own. For Beauvoir this means following Henri Bergson in rejecting a philosophy that engages only the abstract intelligence. Defining her own unique literary philosophical methodology, Beauvoir vows to create a philosophy that is able, like literature, to encompass emotion as well as reason. This creative process begins in her diary where Beauvoir describes the concrete realities of her own lived experience. Searching for a sense of self in the “nothingness of everything human,” Beauvoir grapples with the existential problem of despair and the temptations of bad faith. Celebrating her newly found freedom and academic achievements, Beauvoir still struggles with the masochistic asceticism of her Catholic upbringing and longs for love, fearing a solitary future bereft of the comforts of woman’s traditional role. Beauvoir’s student diary thus allows us to trace the development of her early philosophy within the context of her life, while providing as well an intimate view of an academic world in transformation…. When the diary opens, with an entry dated August 6, 1926 Beauvoir is grappling with a central problem of her early life and philosophy, the conflicting moral obligations to self and others. Recounting a pilgrimage to Lourdes with an aunt, Beauvoir recalls feeling “ashamed” when faced with the physical suffering of the invalids: “[O]nly a life which was a complete gift of oneself, a total self-abnegation seemed possible to me.” But then, anticipating her critique of self-abnegation in The Second Sex, Beauvoir rejects it, describing the “absolute gift” as “moral suicide.” She vows, instead, to achieve an “equilibrium” between the duty to self and the duty to others. In the August 12, 1926 diary entry, Beauvoir frames the problem in metaphysical terms, referring to one part of herself “made to be given away,” and another “made to be kept and cultivated.” Later, in the November 5, 1926 entry, Beauvoir returns to the problem, writing that she split her “existence into two parts”: one part “for myself” and the other part “for others,” that is “the bonds that unite me with all beings.” Beauvoir’s 1926 description of existence “for myself” and “for others” lays the ground for her later philosophical work on the problem of the Other, as in her 1943 metaphysical novel, She Came to Stay, where the main female protagonist struggles to reclaim an existence for herself instead of existing solely for others, and in The Second Sex (1949) where Beauvoir argues that women are forced to assume themselves not as they exist for themselves but solely as they exist for men, thus as the absolute Other. During the course of the 1926 diary, Beauvoir’s efforts to reconcile these two “parts” of her existence are complicated by various influences, including her reading of Henri Bergson, the leading French philosopher of the early twentieth century. Beauvoir quotes at length in her 1926 diary from Bergson’s Essay on the immediate data of consciousness, which she describes, on August 16, as “a great intellectual rapture.” This diary entry may surprise those who remember the reference to Bergson in Beauvoir’s Memoirs: “I would not have been at all pleased if someone had prophesized that I would become a kind of Bergson; I didn’t want to speak with that abstract voice which, whenever I heard it, failed to move me” (MJFR 288). In this case as in so many others, Beauvoir’s diaries present a very different picture. In the August 16 diary entry, Beauvoir is critical of Bergson’s “impersonal” philosophical voice. But she lauds his methodological “appeal to intuition," which brings philosophy in contact with the « palpable reality » of life, as more characteristic of literature than philosophy. Beauvoir quotes Bergson’s celebration of the « bold novelist » able to tear aside « the cleverly woven web of our conventional self, » and reveal the « fundamental absurdity » of impressions underneath. « Nobody has better than he … defined the art of the modern novelist » Beauvoir writes, suggesting Bergson’s influence on Beauvoir’s developing literary philosophical method. Beauvoir writes, in the August 16 entry, that she is “thrilled” by Bergson’s “analysis of the two aspects of the self,” the authentic inner self and the external social self. For Bergson, unlike Beauvoir who is concerned with serving others as well as the self, our responsibility is wholly to the self and its freedom, which we discover only by breaking through the superficial “crust” of the social self. If his ethic of individual freedom complicated Beauvoir’s search for an ethical “equilibrium,” Bergson’s methodological turn to intuition and rejection of philosophy’s sole reliance on reason might have appealed to a young women trying to enter the male world of philosophy and make it her own…. (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Introduction The Schopenhauerian Challenge “Justification” The Extension of “Aesthetic Phenomenon” The Aestheticization of Suffering Concluding Remarks: The Ethics of Aesthetic Justification.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Simone de Beauvoir: The Making of an Intellectual WomanCatharine Savage BrosmanSimone de Beauvoir: The Making of an Intellectual Woman, by Toril Moi; xii & 324 pp. Oxford: Blackwell, 1994, $54.95 cloth, $21.95 paper.Eschewing linear patterns and other conventional ways of writing lives, feminist critic Toril Moi has undertaken instead to construct a “personal genealogy” of Beauvoir, using notions derived partly from Michel Foucault and Pierre Bourdieu (Jacques Lacan (...) and Freud are cited likewise). This manner of understanding what the French existentialists called the human project seeks “to achieve a sense of emergence or production and to understand the complex play of different kinds of power involved in social phenomena” (p. 7). The human subject is viewed as a product of forces; individual choice—emphasized continually, and probably excessively, by existentialists—is secondary. All types of evidence, not only writing, are considered germane: social institutions and the subject herself are “text,” part of a “discursive network” (p. 5). The point is to illuminate Beauvoir’s “speaking position” (p. 9) and what it means, for herself and others, and concurrently to explain the rather low disregard in which she appears to be held in France presently.The chief social factor identified is, not surprisingly, what is called the patriarchal order, which Moi sees even today as powerful enough to threaten thinking women’s chances for fulfillment. “Displaying a pernicious imagery of ugly bluestockings and dried-up spinsters, patriarchal ideology seeks to enforce the split between body and mind with particular rigor in the case of intellectual women” (p. 256). Cited in this connection are novels by Germaine de Staël and George Eliot; but, although Eliot influenced the young Beauvoir, these nineteenth-century models pertain little to today’s situation in America and England, for instance (where Moi, a Norwegian, has resided). But Moi needs to believe that such strictures still operate, in order to argue for Beauvoir’s unique position as “a mythological figure, an imago that has made its presence felt in the thoughts and dreams of every intellectual woman in the Western world since the early 1950s” (p. 5)—a claim no less absurd for being unoriginal.The study investigates three “moments” or crucial questions. The first is Beauvoir’s discovery in 1929 (justified or not, and made chiefly perhaps through sexual desire) that she was intellectually inferior to Sartre, despite her stellar academic performance; this led to her positioning herself as second among equals. Moi explores this momentous choice in personal and sociological terms, examining the French academic establishment that formed her and asking what it meant to be a woman agrégée in philosophy, in love with a brilliant man.The second major topic is Beauvoir’s writing itself, as it springs from and refers to her self-image, especially in She Came to Stay and The Second Sex. The former provides telling evidence of what happens when an intelligent woman persuades herself that her lover considers her an equal, whereas actually the [End Page 417] authority remains his. Moi views this novel as more revealing, although oblique, because it is more affectively nuanced and apparently genuine, than direct accounts in Beauvoir’s memoirs of the triangle involving her, Olga Kosakiewicz, and Sartre. The Second Sex—said to be unrivaled in any field in this century, in terms of influence—is examined in light of Beauvoir’s tardy revelation in the 1940s (if one believes her) that being a woman meant something different from being a man. Beauvoir’s understanding of woman’s position is compared to Sartre’s (expressed in fiction and essays, and deduced from his behavior) and to Frantz Fanon’s concept of racial oppression.Lastly, Moi focuses on the bitter conclusion to Force of Circumstance, in which Beauvoir confesses, in her fifties, feeling cheated by life. The problematic quality of this admission can escape no one, in light of her repeated assertions elsewhere that her relationship with Sartre—central to her self-image—constituted an unreserved success, involving utter transparency and union of thought. Moi studies this in terms of other statements—some by Sartre—and Beauvoir’s true accomplishments, and shows how Beauvoir’s... (shrink)

I. The Paradox of “Judgment” and Pre-reflective Self-AwarenessIn “Fichte’s Original Insight” (1982), Dieter Henrich, the founder of the Heidelberg School, delivered a diagnosis of why three hundred years of Western explication of the internal structure of subjectivity proved to be fruitless. As Manfred Frank noted, “Seldom has so much food for thought been put in a nutshell.”1 Fichte had the “insight” that his predecessors, in their totality (and “nearly all his successors”2), including Kant, misconceived the reality of our self-consciousness as (...) reflection, and thus fell prey to circular reasoning. A subject’s reflection on its own identity is impossible, since it can gain awareness of this identity only if it previously possessed some immediate knowledge of itself. Therefore, (self-)consciousness should not be conceived within the framework of the “reflection model,” which possesses an inherent contradiction, but rather as pre-reflective in nature, and as such it must be postulated by our thought. This is not to say that reflective consciousness—“egological” consciousness, the “reflection model of consciousness,” the “higher-order” theory of consciousness—i.e., the cogito, is impossible, but merely to highlight that its logical foundation cannot be justified by itself and that it essentially depends on the pre-reflective sphere of our psychic lives.3. (shrink)

Reproduced with the kind permission of the author. Currently available in the collection I Looked Alive . © 2010 The Brooklyn Rail/Black Square Editions | ISBN 978-1934029-07-7 Originally published 2003 Four Walls Eight Windows. continent. 1.1 (2011): 43-51. Introduction Ben Segal What interests me is instigated language, language dishabituated from its ordinary doings, language startled by itself. I don't know where that sort of interest locates me, or leaves me, but a lot of the books I see in the stores (...) seem to lack language entirely. Gary Lutz (2006). This issue of continent.'s fiction section features a reprint of “This Is Nice of You” from the first edition of Gary Lutz's collection I Looked Alive . That book was originally released by Four Walls Eight Windows in 2003 and has since been reissued in 2010 by The Brooklyn Rail/Black Square Editions. Calamari Press has also reissued Lutz's Stories in the Worst Way (originally published by Knopf, largely forgotten and dismissed, and then re-issued by the too-short-lived 3rd Bed). “This Is Nice of You” was edited for the re-issue of I Looked Alive and, as the original book is out of print, the earlier version of the story has been hard to come by for some time. This initial version is a bit longer than the new version—Lutz is a master of tightening down his texts to their most linguistically intensified cores—but it is in no way sloppy. It is a great privilege for continent. to be able to make available rare texts of (first) aesthetic and (second) scholarly value. For those readers unfamiliar with Gary Lutz, I believe this story will serve as a worthy introduction. Like Raymond Carver, Diane Williams, Christine Schutt, and so many other important twentieth century and contemporary short story writers, Lutz studied with and was edited by Gordon Lish. This connection is apparent in his attention to sound and the sentence as compositional unit, but Lutz's is a unique voice. “This Is Nice of You” bears Lutz's trademark torqued and turning syntax, his sexed-but-nameless characters, his rendering of the human body and its emissions as utterly discomfiting. Lutz's preoccupations with the mundane raise ordinariness, via startling language and observation, to grandiosity and grotesquery. In the fall of 2008, Lutz delivered a lecture entitled “The Sentence is a Lonely Place” to writing students at Columbia University. The lecture was later printed in The Believer (and is linked below). In it, he spoke about the importance of the sentence as a compositional unit, as even the distinguishing formal characteristic of prose. Specifically, Lutz explained that, from Lish, he had developed a "poetics of the sentence." Accordingly, Lutz constructs his stories at the level of the sentence, paying extreme attention to the material of words- their letters and their sounds- and the way they abut one another and interact on this material level even before they are employed in the service of traditional aims of fiction like meaning or story. Lutz often uses a(n almost constraint-related) technique called consecution. Letters or sounds from one word are carried forward into the following, producing drama and movement in the language itself at a level entirely apart from that of plot. For example, you can see how the 't's in the first sentence of “This Is Nice of You” repeat fast and hard through met and then soften into the 'th's of brothers and they. This close attention to the specific material and characteristic conditions of prose means that Gary Lutz's work always involves both a happening in language and of language. “This Is Nice of You” has a richness and depth that is hidden not in symbolism or obscure reference but on the surface of the page, in the language of every sentence. FURTHER READING Lutz, Gary. “ The Sentence Is a Lonely Place. ” The Believer January, 2009. Web. Short stories and excerpts at Web del Sol . Web. Taylor, Justin. “ An Interview with Gary Lutz .” Bookslut. July, 2006. Web. THIS IS NICE OF YOU [156] [1] I was a man dropping already well through my forties, filthy with myself, when, taking a turn at the toilets one afternoon, I met two brothers-they said they were brothers-who swore they had a sister, a schoolteacher, an officer of instruction at the county college, a whirlwind midlife turmoil of everything already put to ruin, who had gone off from a new marriage in an old car, an upkept and ennobling sedan, but had returned now to the apartment and [157] was living there alone with the little runoff there was from the marriage-some outcurved appliances, apparently, and low-posted furniture promoting its own mystery but becoming figurable in certain concentrations of TV light-and, above all, a telephone (on a pedestal, they insisted), the handpiece of which she gripped in lieu of exercise, or in fury, and I thus let out my little, reliable cry that I was in fact a student of the telephone, that it was a debasing apparatus in the main, with its meager economy of bells and tones, and the intimacy of the mouthpiece that sent your breath, tiny aftervapors of it, back toward your lips, so that regardless of the party accepting the outgoing products of your voice, you were, at most, in a further, rivaling exchange with yourself alone, and this is what must have brought the two of them around, the men who proclaimed brotherhood with the woman, because they offered me her phone number, put it at my disposal on a piece of paper one of them had already committed it to, a tearing from a menu, and the looks the men were now giving me had deletions in them, already, of my exact, beanpole shape and size. So off I went to a pay phone, the nearest canopied one I could find. The woman answered after the second ring and said she needed a lift right that very moment into the little, unlevel city close by. She was idling in the doorway of the building when I pulled up in front, and I helped her into the car, then got back in myself. I had always had a way of not having to look at people that nonetheless brought them to me in full, and so I still am certain of the susceptive and impressible comp-[158]lexion, the shimmer on the mouth, a lipstick of low brilliance, a difficulty around the eyes, the hair short and rayed out exclamation ally, skin bagged up over the elbow bone, conflict even in how her arms stayed at her sides—in sum, a spinal loveliness for me, an off-blonde quantity with shadowed, thumbworn hollows that put me out of as much as I might have ever known of women before. I set the two of us into the narrow traffic, and I remember telling her, by way of explaining the little burden which I had shifted, by now, from the shelf of the dashboard and onto my lap, that when you lived in filth, as I then did, a daily newspaper came to count for a lot, although instead of the thick-supplemented local paper I bought a trimmer one from a backlying town—not, of course, for any affluences of native data it carried, but as an article of house ware: a rough immaculacy in four lank sections, a set of fresh, hygienic surfaces to come between the table, say, and whatever I had going for me at the table, if the table was where I was going forward—because what else so cheap comes so clean and far-spreading? The woman told me that her own trouble with paper was that through a modest hole, no larger than a quarter, that had been drilled a foot or so above the floor (the standard height, she had reasoned, of legitimate electrical outlets), and by means of which her faculty office had at last gained communication with the roomier but unoccupied office next door, more and more often shot a single sheet of paper, plain copier paper she had rolled just barely into a tube, [159] so that after landing on the floor of the neighboring office the paper would preserve little if any of the curl, and there would be nothing written or typed on it, of course, and it was always a blank sheet that had been ageing on her desk for some time and had already been moved around, or advanced, from station to station on the desktop, coming into further creaselets and crimps and other infirmities—paper, in short, still too bare and unfraught to be thrown responsibly and forgettably away, and yet too seasoned and beset with irritations of the surface (a molelike blemish, say, or what looked like a tiny hair, an eyelash, sunk into it, or frecklings, or notational pressings of a fingernail), too wrought, in sum, for the paper to be appointed to any secure curricular purpose. Her office, she claimed, was in fact full of such paper, much-handled and singularized sheets of it by the loose, functionless hundred. I had to get it across to the woman that I myself no longer had an office, or any other place to divide me reliably from everybody else, and that for much of the daylight I thus appeared to be among people because I kept putting myself where people came together into even closer-fitting assortments, the viewing areas and showrooms and rotundas and such: I took in the lean-to look of the women, the tongues coming and going in what the men kept thinking of to say—whole families of low knees for me to bark my shins against during the crowded and involving way out. At home afterward, in the one room where my life was packed down, I would keep my nose stuck in the safehold of the phone [160] book, where the names of people suffered reduction to mere episodes of the alphabet and underwent humbling declensions down every column (Lail, Lain, Laine, Lainerd), and he names of streets, of the towns and townships, got docked in crude, heedless abbreviations (the vowels almost always the first to get poked out), and I would run my eyes over the telephone numbers themselves, each sequence of digits another fallible run of the infinite. I thus corrected my feelings for people and assembled myself emotionally into whatever else I had at hand—the obligating arms of the clothes hangers, usually, or the keen-angled understructure, the guardian legginess, of the ironing board. The woman said that in her case, though, it was more a matter of making slow circuits of the classroom where she had to put across the Emporial Sciences, retail theory and methods, to heat-giving and suggestive young women, some of them world cruelties already. There was the cooing of empty stomachs in the hour just before lunch, and the braying and fizzle of loaded stomachs in the low hours of the afternoon. She would recite her notes in a voice barely loyal to anyone octave, a tiny alluvium of slaver hardening at the corners of her mouth on the days she gave the glassy lozenges a slow, warming suck, and she would take lowering notice of how whatever she said succumbed at once to freak spellings and razzing paraphrase in the big, dividered notebooks; and because in midafternoon light the world looked as thorough, as filled in, as it was ever going to get, a better way to set about ruining her eyes was to review how hair had [161] established itself on the arms of the young women, because almost every arm had brought across itself a welcome and diversifying shadow. On one girl it would be a fine, driftless haze afloat above the white of the arm, never seeming to touch down on the skin itself. (An atmosphere, at most, of chestnut brown.) On another, it was as if copper wire, the narrowmost lengthlets of it, had been stuck into the fleshy batter of the thick, freckled forearms. On a third: a field of it–wheat-colored, thin-spun. On a fourth; a differencing, darkish updrift that shaded off as it approached the inner bend of the elbow, then re-emerged at the base of the upper arm as whiskery fringe. On others it was a brassy or rust-colored frizz, or it was as coarse as cornsilk, or it looked fussed on, as if the arm had been slowly stroked with charcoal. But here the woman broke off, or I may well have made an interruption of my own—I think I must have asked whether she was hungry, and she said if I was, and so on one of the lesser streets I parked the car and led her down into a belowstairs eating house I still remembered. Sandwiches were presently lowered in front of us. I watched her remove the festooned toothpick from hers and then play her fingers over the toasted planes before she took a fond first bite. "This is nice of you," she said. I must have looked at her in the way I then had of getting people to speak so they would not seem to be dwelling any longer on my features, because if on the well-set face the mouth and eyes are said to seem frozen in elegant orbit about the til) of the nose, then mine was a face that behold-[162]ers, regarders, could not help trying to round off with greater success, to goad the particulars of it back into the arcs they had wandered away from—the mouth, for instance, having been pursed and pinched suchwise that it seemed resident more on one side of the face than the other—and there were other signs of original strife to be busied with (slapdash eyebrows unbunched, it appeared, from reserves of hair elsewhere on my person; a showing of adult acne, a shrivelly little relevance of it, confined to the declivity of my nose); and so to be polite, the woman thus sank her gaze into her sandwich, and told me, in a voice lowered accordingly, that, one late-childhood summer, she had devoted herself to collecting postage stamps: it was a tongue-involving sideline to early-arriving puberty, and she liked having to lick the pale, gummed hinges instead of the sticky backs of the stamps themselves before entering everything into the hosting album; and once, during some foul weather between her and a brother (the older, thrown-over one, who had already made a habit of fooling the underside of his arm across the top of hers and calling her "pussified"), she reached for the shoe box in which she had let duplicate stamps accumulate—Spanish ones, mostly, of a fading orange—and sent the box slooshing through the lower air so that the stamps showered onto the brother's bare legs with a full, delicate harm. The woman was now touching up the surface of her iced tea with tiny activities, initiatives, of the longspun spoon. I myself was good at getting my touch onto things, although in a way that seemed to mix up the motive atoms inside [163] them, but I was satisfied that for the moment my sandwich, the unbitten-at half of it, was displayable and fit and local to my plate. The woman went on to say that, as a child, she had been bundled off, many an afternoon, to the slope-ceilinged quarters of a bachelor uncle who, when speaking of anybody not immediately present, could not bring himself to use the person's name but instead would say "an acquaintance of mine in ..." and then mention the name of some lapsed homeland, or little-loved rural orchestra, or backset building about to come down; and it was never a riddle, this device of his (not once could the girl have been expected to identify any of the subjects), and no matter how often and aloud he insisted that particularizing persons any further—bringing even a first name down upon anyone of them—would have been indecent, he claimed, much like doing things to people while they slept, the girl accepted all of the uncle's prim and extravagant evasion for what he surely must have intended it to be: a neat, protective trick to space the world out a little further in her favor, to scatter the population so that wherever her hand might at last come down, it would have to be on herself alone. And here I could sense that the woman wanted from my mouth an account of as much as I myself might have ever managed of attachment, so I told her I had once owned a house (a rising, really, of much-fingered, handwrought architecture that amounted to a little family of rooms above garages: a boxlike building with a rattly thorax of downspouts [164] and drainpipes and an unfolded but full-toned fire escape), and I had had for a time a boarder, a student, a high-colored, loose-packed representative of declining girlhood, hung with necklaces and barrettes, a girl of precise but shifting leanings and inclinations; and the afternoon she had come round to ask after the room, I stood in the entranceway, handshaken and asweat, and from what would later be my memory of the girl, I made off with, first, how every pore of her nose seemed to be sheltering within itself a tiny dark seedlet, a grain of something immediately, enormously valuable. And an almost lipless mouth (just a slit, practically), the teeth inside looking wet, watered-it was my life's chore, at that instant, to keep from sending the back of my thumb blotterlike across the line of them (I was later to learn she drank everything cold and through the narrowest of straws). And her hair: it was tea-colored hair she had, long and reachful, an unstopped downcome of it. Tall for a girl, but she managed to stay out of much of her height and put herself across as somebody backward, or behind. I must have told the girl, as best I could, that I of course had a wife, a full-faced, imperishable partner, though for the moment she was gone otherwhere in the marriage, and here the woman, my present companion, my tablemate, whose feet were now parked, in parallel, on the grade of my upper leg, interrupted to say that her husband, too, had been such a liar, and what could I bring up by way of reply other than that a lie is a truth struck through with other, further truth, or that a lie is the present multiplied by the past or that a lie [165] is an outcry of borrowed hope? The woman gave me an allowed look of disgust, her eyes lowered but still popular with me, and on I went with what had now become the girl of my story. For there had been a great, gainful carpet in the room I put the girl into, a matty expanse of coarse, grabby piles, an engrossing affair that took things into itself and held them tight, misered them, and I of course insisted that the girl not bother herself with its upkeep, that I enjoyed weekly access to a prestigious, upstanding vacuum cleaner; but no sooner was the girl out of the house each morning than I would withdraw from my room, where time was unportionable, and loose myself into the ticktock impertinence of the girl's room and get down on my knees, and, going after the carpet first with my fingers, then with a forceps, and finally by unspooling lengths of clear package-sealing tape and pressing them against the tufts in neat rectangles to catch what I might have missed, I brought vast tracts of the carpet to depletion, recovering not simply the girlinesses, the girleries, one would expect (buttons, straight pins, downed jewelry), but flirtier personalia in the form, say, of a stray confetto brought into the world when a page had been wrung with out caution from a spiral-bound notebook, or some pleated paper shells of the chocolates she required, or one of the bargain antihistamines she took to get her naps going, or a trash-bag tie ragged enough to show the kinked line of the wire within (this I would get wound around my finger), or a cough drop enwrapped like a bonbon (I would undo the [166] wings of the wrapper and have to decide whether to suck the drop all down or begin chewing it midway)—I became the following, the public, that these things, these off-faIlings, had come to have; but mostly there was hair, afloat above the uppermost pushings of the fabric of the carpet an almost continuous haziness of loose hairs of all lengths and sources, and I would have to set them out on a fresh sheet of paper and assort them according to the regions of the body they had taken their departure from, and in no time I had nest-like filiations of broken filaments and smaller involvements of the hairs that made me think of hooks, of barbs, of treble clefs, and each pile required a separate envelope, to be filed in a separate shoe box for every sector of the body until, I hoped, the boxes themselves would no longer be enough and I would have raised something semblable, brought up something equal in volume to the comprehensive girl herself. And her wastebasket! For every bit of rubbish, every dreariment she tossed into the thing, I would, in secret, deposit a reciprocal discard of my own, matching a spotted, confessory tissue of hers with a lurid throwaway after my own heart–the cardboard substructions of a fresh parcel of underwear, maybe, or tearings from pantyhose I now and again pressed against a span of my forearm to work onto it the complications of female shading I otherwise made do, choosily, without. I thus built the two of us up together in her trash! One afternoon-it was another of those lifeful, unsam-[167]pled days on which the world humors us each a little differently to keep us nicely on our last legs—I discovered in the wastebasket an inch-deep textbook of hers, a paperback with a celery-colored cover that had come partly unglued, and this dilapidation I paired off, naturally, with a name-your baby guide to whose pages, during my recurrent turnings of them, in bed or at table, I had contributed dried produces of my person, a chemical splendor entirely mine. This coupling sent a sudden spigoty thrill from me that forced an unbuckling and an unzipping and a cleanup with a handkerchief I then ventured responsively into the wastebasket as well. It was in the bathroom afterward that I found a suds-clouded puddle on the unlevel floor of the tub, a little undrained remainder, rimmed with offscum, of the girl's prolonged early-morning soak, and this was as much as I needed to get on my hands; I pressed them flat against the wet porcelain, then flapped them around in the air, and that was when I noticed it—in the amphitheater of the toilet bowl, an orange-yellow tint, or value, to the waters. When the girl arrived home that evening, I told her, of course, that I had discovered fresh, unforeseen trouble within the tank of thelet (a misalignment of the trip lever, a waywardness of the float ball, a ulation of the lift wires, kinks and defects, really, throughout the entire system) and that in fine it was an apparatus now operable only by means of advanced and strenuous equilibrial manipulations that it would be unseemly, inhospitable, of me to pre-[168]sume to burd to burden her with–so that from here on out, following any leak or evacuation she need merely lower the lid and then, before quitting the room, ring the handbell that had been placed on the would seeeverythinghing else. But the bell never rang, not even once, and from my window the next morning I watched the girl carry from the house a little plastic bag distended balloonishly, much like those bags you will remember having seen in the hands of children bearing homeward their solitary carnival-prize goldfish. In fact, I never ran across the likes of the girl again. The man who came to collect her things-not the father, apparently, but an advocate, an upholder-l found to be dull-eared and lax in his speech, and the better part of his face seemed to have already begun making tiny, rotational departures from whatever it was that the eyes, themselves impressively mobile, were just that moment having to take in. (Was there a lamp in the house that was not that night slopping its wattage over everything?) I guess I was waiting for the man to take a laggard, last-minute interest in me, and by now I was pushing everything out into the paired first person–it was, I said, “Our night shot,” and I began including the two of us in whatever it might be doing out, the expected sprinkles and such—but he was no friendship buff, and he paid no heed to my telling him that the only dress of hers I'd ever twidged myself into even part of the way had been the simplest of them all, a large-buttoned wonder of depthless blue, and then only on the principle that one naturally fits whatever one has into whatever somebody else [169] had first, or how else would the world keep getting any taller with people? The man just went about the removal of the girl's things without having to be reminded too noticeably, I guess, of how every dick hangs by a thread. My listener, though, had by this time brought about some becoming slowings of her arm—it was an arm inclinable to langorous diagonals and magicianly swoops through the air above the tabletop—but it no longer was involving itself with her plate, so I suggested we shove off, I made payment for the food, and on our way to the car, and then in the car as I took to following her pointings, the directional tilts of her head, she said that you naturally kept putting more and more of yourself into another person, at first wondering how much she can take, how much of you is accumulable and how much she can hold, and you're letting things out, disbursing yourself, and you've soon got things set up in her, and room is being made for even more of you, and if you bring this off with enough people, even two or three, what you've got is at first a comfort, because you can pass yourself along and move a little more widely through the world and leave it to these others to man your grievances, your disappointments; and what brought this to mind, the woman said, was a term of financial hardship she had contrived for herself a few years back, an unpaid leave of absence from scrupling letter grades onto quiz papers (propped-up As, and upended Bs made to look, rather, like fannies; all As and Bs, no Cs or anything lower, the difference between an A and a B having less to do with the accuracy of whatever facts might [170] have been impounded in provided for an answer than with anything recallable about the way the enrollee ad conformed her body to the confining perpendiculars of her chair and the navel-level writing surface that projected from it, or the way there might one day have been an unignorable blush on the instep of a once-moseying foot, disburdened of its shoe, that had got itself trapped in the grillwork of that cagelike involvement, intended for books, that was welded to, or otherwise schemed into, the underworks of the chair)—this had been a duration, in short, of controlled difficulty when the misexpenditure of even a twenty-dollar bill had set her thrilling, gloating, over everything she would miss out on, and one afternoon she had made an engagement for a haircut, just a trim, and very early in the session the haircutter, a woman ill-defined in the face but otherwise full of conspicuities of emotion, set down the prevailing scissors and pressed the flat of a lukewarm hand against the woman's cheek, held it there for a good minute or longer, while the other hand eventually found its way into a drawer, a shallow treasury of slender specialty scissors, one pair of which the cutter withdrew and began routing deductively through the woman's hair, the other hand staying put on the cheek, longer and longer, and the woman went home and for afterward the bathtub was now a more likely destination than any of the upright furniture, and it got easier to fill the tub with further clarifying volumes than to clear space on the difficult heights of the sofa, and she was hardly claiming to have become a cleaner [171] person in result—she in fact would often discover, voyaging about her body, a browned, fractionary detail of a larger crepe of toilet tissue that must have got itself stuck in some assy crevice and was impossible to get plucked out of the revolving suds—she was saying only that she spent more and more of her time thus immersed, ill off in water, and the haircutter had surely had a hand in it, the woman was doing some of the cutter's life now, coming into some of its wrong, because you sometimes have to look to somebody else's life to get dimensions set back even part of the way around your own, and it should not have to be any less your own life when it comes from somebody else, and you could surely fudge a society out of anyone available person and get this person doubling for the many, so that in the little run of things perpetuable from one person to the next, every loose moment stood to become a complete, active finality. But by now this was a new day, with only an hour or so off it already, and the place the woman had made me bring us to, the man's place, with a promise that the man was elsewhere—this was on a little offshoot of a street, a stewy efficiency apartment the color had long ago gone out of; and when, once in bed, still clothed, I found among the sheets and blankets a spoiling pair of the man's underpants, one of the leg openings of which was puckered into an avid, sloppy mouth, I held myself accountable for redisposing the fabric until I got a befitting featurelessness back onto it; but all the while, I am sure I had to make myself go over again in my mind that if the body is the porter of as many organs of affec-[172]tion as there might one day turn out to be, then the idea was to let the thing carry you to where you would otherwise never have any reason to arrive, because I listened for the unmelodiof the the thede ofthe woman's zipper, and then the woman made me put myself out of my own clothes, the attritional corduroys and overshirt, and got herself up at last onto the topic not of the man whose apartment it was (because his story was scarcely the story of how the boy who decides he is half a girl no sooner starts to worry about where the other half might than he gets careless with where he rests his eyes, or what he gives even the feeblest of fingerholds to, and anything, even a crumbly triangle of pie offered on a saucer instead of on a pie plate proper, comes in easy, ready, wronging answer), but of her husband, and how, no more than a couple of months into the marriage, he had begun snugging away in his undershorts a little source of chanc, reliable frictions to nudge him onward through the workday—anything company-keeping that could be counted on not to slide out of the elasticky leg holes: a half-dollar packet of chocolate tittles, maybe, that was barely noticeable in the baggy surround of the widecut trousers so popular at the time. For by now the woman had at last brought what is usually called the other mouth to within only inches of my lips, but it is not a mouth, obviously, although I let myself go along with the goodwill behind the comparison, the way I will remain loyal to anything deliberately and faithfully misunderstood, and I fussed my tongue against the vital trifles hung inside of her, as much of the curtailed finery as I could find, [173] and gave the whole insimplicity of it a slow-circling, examinational lick, until I was taking a sudden tepid downwash on the tongue. It was a familiar, latrine in dribble that must have tasted, no doubt, like trouble just starting out.p [1] Editor's Note: Original pagination from first edition print denoted with bracketed page numbers. (shrink)

In colonial states and settings, constitutional arrangements are often forged within contexts that serve to maintain structural racism against Indigenous people. In 2013 the New Zealand government initiated national conversations about the constitutional arrangements in Aotearoa. Māori leadership preceded this, initiating a comprehensive engagement process among Māori in 2010, which resulted in a report by Matike Mai Aotearoa which articulated a collective Māori vision of a written constitution congruent with te Tiriti o Waitangi by 2040.This conceptual article explores the Matike (...) Mai Aotearoa report on constitutional transformation as a novel means to address structural racism within the health system as a key domain within the constitutional sphere. Matike Mai suggests alternative conceptual structural formations through its focus on the kāwanatanga, the relational and the tino rangatiratanga sphere. This framework is informed by a range of Indigenous ethical values such as tikanga, belonging, and balance that can usefully inform the redesign of the health sector.We assert that constitutional transformation and decolonization are potentially powerful ethical sources of disruption to whiteness and structural racism. We argue that, to eliminate entrenched health disparities, change processes need to be informed by the Indigenous inspirations expressed in the Matike Mai report. (shrink)

Nietzsche had a particular interest in the relationship between art and life, and in art's contribution to his philosophical aims--to identify the conditions of the affirmation of life, cultural renewal, and exemplary human living. These new essays demonstrate that understanding his engagement with art is essential for understanding his philosophy.

The main theme of Nietzsche’s first published work, The Birth of Tragedy, is that the affirmation of life requires ‘illusion’ which allows us to cope with the ‘insight into the horrible truth’ of our condition. This article argues that Nietzsche held the same position in his later works: that illusion is a necessary to affirm life. The discussion is organized as follows. Section 1 sets out the core thesis of BT vis-à-vis the relationship between affirmation and illusion. Section 2 examines (...) the role of illusion in one of Nietzsche’s litmus tests of affirmation found in The Gay Science of 1882, ‘amor fati’—that is, the ability ‘to see as beautiful what is necessary in things’. Sections 3, 4, and 5 consider Nietzsche’s understanding of ‘self-creation’ and how, through the employment of ‘distance’ and ‘pretence’, it engenders an affirmation of existence. Finally, Section 6 attempts a provisional assessment of Nietzsche’s conception of affirmation. (shrink)

This chapter contains sections titled: Background: Schopenhauer's Methodological Presuppositions Empirical Consciousness Aesthetic Consciousness Moral Consciousness and the Path to Salvation Concluding Remarks Notes References Further Reading.

This volume brings together a number of new essays by leading Nietzsche scholars to examine the philosopher's famous critique of morality and his emphasis on life-affirming values.

I argue that there could not be grounds on which to introduce God into our ontology. My argument presupposes two doctrines. First, we should allow into our ontology only what figures in the best explanation of an event or fact. Second, explanation is contrastive by nature, in that the explanandum always consists in a contrast between a fact and a foil. I argue that God could not figure in true contrastive explanatory statements, because the omnipotence of God guarantees that for (...) any true proposition p, God could have made it the case that ~p just as much as He could have made it the case that p. (shrink)

Cyberloafing, a new type of deviant workplace behavior, has become widespread across organizations. Although there has been an increasing amount of research on cyberloafing, it is unclear whether its influence on employee task performance is linearly positive or negative. To reconcile such an inconsistency, we developed and tested a model, grounded in the effort-recovery model, considering a potential curvilinear relationship between cyberloafing and task performance while also examining the mediating role of relaxation. We further reasoned that this indirect curvilinear effect (...) is contingent on employees’ time management skill. To test our theoretical model, we conducted two studies. In Study 1, multi-time data collected from 243 Master of Public Administration (MPA) students showed that cyberloafing had an inverted U-shaped (curvilinear) relationship with task performance, and relaxation mediated this relationship. In Study 2, using a sample of 392 public sector employees, we replicated the results of Study 1 and found that time management skill moderated the curvilinear effect of relaxation on task performance, as well as the indirect curvilinear effect of cyberloafing on task performance via relaxation. Theoretical contributions and managerial implications are further discussed. (shrink)

Shiqin She | : Le tragique hölderlinien mérite une attention spéciale, car chez Hölderlin la tragédie de nature dialectique se présente comme une allégorie de l’impossibilité de la spéculation. Le poète philosophe tentait, à partir de 1798, d’écrire une tragédie moderne, La mort d’Empédocle. Pour maintes raisons, il n’a pas pu mener l’imitation des Grecs jusqu’au bout ; il lui semblait qu’une tragédie moderne fût impossible. Pour lui, cet échec dramaturgique a une signification antimétaphysique. Dans ce travail, nous procéderons, à (...) partir des trois définitions de la tragédie qu’il propose à compter de 1798, à l’analyse de l’impact que son échec dramaturgique a eu sur sa compréhension de l’essence du tragique, puis sur sa critique de la raison spéculative. | : Hölderlin’s conception of the tragic deserves special attention, since for Hölderlin tragedy of a dialectical nature presents itself as an allegory of the impossibility of speculation. The poet philosopher was trying, from 1798 onwards, to write a modern tragedy, The Death of Empedocles. For a number of reasons, he found himself unable to succeed to the end in his imitation of the Greeks ; it seemed to him that a modern tragedy proved impossible. For him, that dramaturgic failure had an anti-metaphysical significance. In this paper, we will proceed, starting with the three definitions of tragedy which he provides from 1798 onwards, to the analysis of the impact his dramaturgic failure had on his comprehension of the essence of the tragic, and then on his critique of speculative reason. (shrink)

It is simply no longer acceptable to speak of the goddess Athena from the fifth generation of Olympian/Orphic Greece without reference to her mother Metis. Hesiod, among others, tells us Metis appears as a reincarnation of her first-generation self in the Olympian dynasty as wife of Zeus. She was originally the cosmic egg of all creation in the Orphic Theogony, as recounted by Apollodorus, and Taylor, from whose mucosity, the entire genealogy of the Olympian/Orphic heaven, is spawned. However, from the (...) moment Zeus murdered Metis as she was about to give birth to Athena their daughter, she has lapsed into the fissures of forgetfulness in philosophy, theology, mythology and early psychoanalysis. Indeed, in each field of inquiry, Athena is overwhelmingly deemed ‘unmothered’ and produced as Harrison tells us as a desperate ploy ‘from the brain of Zeus’ through his cunning intellect, for Athena to serve as his ‘mouthpiece’. This paper seeks to do more than simply restore Metis as mother to Athena. It explores the tragedy inherited by her violent removal, for mother/daughter relations, grievability and sustained disavowal of maternal divinity in dominant discourse. (shrink)

Green innovation has been attracting much attention from academia and practice, but the influence of religion as an important informal institutional factor has not been fully investigated in existing studies. Taking Chinese listed companies from 2008 to 2019 as a sample, this study attempts to examine the relationship between religious atmosphere and corporate green innovation performance. The empirical results indicate that a religious atmosphere (Buddhism and Taoism as a whole) can significantly improve corporate green innovation performance, particularly high-quality green innovation. (...) The positive association between religion and green innovation performance is attenuated by pervasive formal institutions (i.e., environmental regulation), indicating that there is a substitutive effect between religion and formal institutions. We also find that Taoism mainly supports these results, while Buddhism has a limited impact, showing that there is a heterogeneous effect between different religions. We further find that the positive impact of religious atmosphere on green innovation performance is more pronounced in low-governance enterprises and low-polluting industries. This study contributes to research on the antecedents of corporate green innovation and the consequence of religion, which is of great significance to the value of religion in business practice. (shrink)

How do essentialist beliefs about categories arise? We hypothesize that such beliefs are transmitted via language. We subject large language models (LLMs) to vignettes from the literature on essentialist categorization and find that they align well with people when the studies manipulated teleological information -- information about what something is for. We examine whether in a classic test of essentialist categorization -- the transformation task -- LLMs prioritize teleological properties over information about what something looks like, or is made of. (...) Experiments 1 and 2 find that telos and what something is made of matter more than appearance. Experiment 3 manipulates all three factors and finds that what something is for matters more than what it's made of. Overall, these studies suggest that language alone may be sufficient to give rise to essentialist beliefs, and that information about what something is for matters more. (shrink)

Text emotion analysis is an effective way for analyzing the emotion of the subjects’ anomie behaviors. This paper proposes a text emotion analysis framework based on word embedding and splicing. Bi-direction Convolutional Word Embedding Classification Framework can express the word vector in the text and embed the part of speech tagging information as a feature of sentence representation. In addition, an emotional parallel learning mechanism is proposed, which uses the temporal information of the parallel structure calculated by Bi-LSTM to update (...) the storage information through the gating mechanism. The convolutional layer can better extract certain components of sentences, which play a more significant role in the expression of emotion. To take advantage of convolution, a Convolutional Long Short-Term Memory network is designed to further improve the classification results. Experimental results show that compared with traditional LSTM model, the proposed text emotion analysis model has increased 3.3 and 10.9% F1 score on psychological and news text datasets, respectively. The proposed CBDM model based on Bi-LSTM and ConvLSTM has great value in practical applications of anomie behavior analysis. (shrink)