Saturday, February 28, 2015

Maybe It Is And Maybe It Isn't And Maybe It's Both (Ambiguity)

When reading Maimonides, I immediately connected his celebration of ambiguity to Eliot. “The Wasteland” is ambiguity at it’s finest, and I found it necessary to concede to an eternal perplexity in order to reconcile my utter lack of understanding, what with untranslated Greek and Sanskrit and innumerable classical references (though I am a commoner and consequently an inferior reader in Eliot’s understanding, I am at least able to have a considerable appreciation for the sheer scale and craft of the work.) Back to the subject at hand. The similarities between Maimonides and Eliot/New Criticism are too insane to overlook. I could not believe “Seven Types of Ambiguity,” the critical New Criticism publication by Empson which posits Eliot’s work as poetic genius, goes unconnected with Maimonides’ seven causes. 

In particular, Maimonides’ sixth cause and the fourth type of ambiguity are quite similar. The sixth cause is a concealed contradiction exposed through premises, which “escapes the attention of scholars who write books” (176). Essentially, it is a contradiction that arises, not necessarily through the ineptitude of the author, but through the natural emergence of conflicting elements. The author is only condemned if a lack of craft is evident from the beginning, whether that be forgetfulness or a lack of care. Empson’s fourth type is characterized by “two or more meaning that do not agree but combine to make clear a complicated state of mind in the author” (133). The contradiction serves as a testament to the intelligence of the author, to praise a “complexity of the mind” (133), not an unintentional confusion. Like Maimonides, the author is to blame if there are undeveloped conflicts that result from poor craft. A lack of specificity is unacceptable in both camps, so you can’t get away with being vague/inconsistent/muddled and calling it scholarship (sorry, Wordsworth.)

The main difference between Maimonides and the New Critics, I think, lies in the source of ambiguity. For the New Critics, the ambiguity stems from the author. And, if one is learned and elite enough and armed with multiple dictionaries, the ambiguity can be sorted through into a greater clarity. At that level, however, there are still different interpretations that can be made of “The Wasteland” or Prufrock. A level of ambiguity remains. The New Critics are not concerned with Eliot’s intention in how “The Wasteland” should be read, the “right reading,” rather, they are concerned with the poem itself, and the ambiguity that pervades the text object. Likewise, Maimonides establishes ambiguity as an unavoidable reality in spiritual texts, and one that should be embraced, not reasoned through. Similar to the New Critics, the intention is not to unearth the “real” truth or the “right” reading. 

My question is this:


For Maimonides, does the (unintentional) contradiction arise from the author’s mind, or is it solely a spiritual ambiguity, a mystery of the universe?

Representations, the Internet, and Hegel

I was browsing YouTube the other day and came across an episode of 8-Bit Philosophy that focused on Hegel. If you haven't heard of 8-Bit Philosophy then you're missing out (and now I've solved that problem for you: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6V_YKn8i9k). The basic premise of these YouTube-based videos is to provide a platform for people who want to learn about and discuss principles of philosophy. The channel is also home to Thug Notes and Earthling Cinema, which produce videos about literature and film, respectively.

The video left me wondering about Hegel's views on art. When we discussed Lectures on Fine Art earlier this week there was a general consensus that music could be seen as the epitome for the romantic form of art. Yet, what about film and theater, which present the human spirit in a lively and engaging way? In his discussion of art Hegel states the following: "We may, therefore, in short, adhere to the view that at this third stage [the romantic] the subject-matter of art is free concrete spirituality, which is to be manifested as spirituality to the spirituality inward" (555). There are many ways in which film and theater seem to fit into this definition of art. However, in its current state there exists a multitude of trivial representations (you don't need to go too far into a YouTube binge to realize this) that are far from Hegel's ideal.

This led me to the dilemma I'm currently wrestling with. What's so appealing about videos like 8-Bit Philosophy is that they present ideas for a mass audience. As a result, they are often cursory and engaging (who doesn't want to learn about the Hegelian dialect as represented through video game characters leveling up?). Yet, at the same time, I (as well as many others) believe that we risk diminishing great ideas through a simplified description. That seems to be the problem with Core 250, seeing as the class has to educate a large audience (well, at least for Whitworth) in a way that minimizes great thinkers and ideas.  

There are, then, two issues that I need some clarity on, and I'm hoping you guys can help:


1) Are there any other representations of art besides music that Hegel would view as romantic and ideal? 


2) How do we democratize concepts that are heavily theoretical and abstract? There are current pedagogical strategies that attempt to Hegelize Hegel (think of it in terms of a dialectic, through which we synthesize information to appeal to mass audiences) and other philosophers, but there must be a better way to impart these ideas. 


That's all I've got for you today. See ya!

Friday, February 27, 2015

Subjectivity and Universality

As far as I understand, Kant believes that beauty is only something we can conceive of in the mind, and it is the fact that everyone has a subjective perception of beauty (or the sublime, rather) in their mind, which causes Kant to claim that there is a universal conception of some sort of beauty (beauty being whatever we conceive in our own minds). It is also from our apprehensions of beauty that we grasp our best understanding of the universe, and this freedom of subjective apprehension is reliant on the notion of "free-play," which unbinds us from the eidos.


What I find interesting about Kant's argument is that he creates a way to state there is a universal sense of beauty without specifying particular objects in the world that are universally beautiful. Basically he is saying that everybody finds something beautiful, but not everybody agrees on what that "something" actually is. Kant states that "beauty is experienced through the senses, but points us beyond mere sensation." I curious as to how Plato would respond to this idea. Because pointing beyond mere sensation doesn't necessarily imply the indication of an external or divine realm. I think Plato would suggest that any beauty we conceive strays us further away from truth if we don't acknowledge it as a representation of the eidos. I don't think Plato would be too keen on the idea of beauty being subjective though. Wouldn't Plato suggest that the only truth that is beautiful are absolutes (i.e. forms)?


Another thing that has been creating some turmoil for me is whether we should be trying to distinguish which critics and philosophers we believe have a in/correct theory of thinking. I felt that a huge reason of why we were trashing Wordsworth in class yesterday was because we were operating under the belief that Kant and Hegel were correct in their arguments and methods of thinking, and since we thought Wordsworth totally misinterpreted the truth (i.e. Kant and Hegel epistemology), we then accused him of being an idiot. Does Wordsworth have credible insight to offer, despite how he interpreted Kant and Hegel?

Thursday, February 26, 2015

The Purpose of Poetry?

While reading many of these philosophers, thinkers, and critics, I have (naturally) questioned what the fundamental purpose of poetry is, and if there is a universal answer to this question. Perhaps these aren't the most beneficial questions for me to be concentrating on as I continue reading for this class. From my perspective, these questions possess great importance because in order to be a good critic of any sort of art, you must understand what the piece of art should or shouldn't be doing.


I've tended, thus far, to side most with those thinkers who have suggested that the primary purpose of art (poetry) is to point its audience to truth and universal absolutes. Specifically, I think that Sydney and Hegel have the most intriguing notions of the purpose of poetry out of everyone we've read in class to this point. To an extent, I also think that both of them have very similar views of the purpose of poetry. On the index finger you have Sydney, who suggests that poetry is the best representation of the eidos, because it is the best model of human expression. On the ring finger you have Hegel, who suggests that the dialectic is in opposition to history and is actually working upwards towards the ideal/universal truth, and that poetry (any form of art) serves to be a vehicle to point towards this universal truth.


The problem I see with Sydney and Hegel is the issue of establishing what "universal truth" actually is. I think this refers back to Plato and the question of whether there actually is an ideal "chair-ness" or "god-ness." Since our ideas of perfection are finite, we are that much more likely to mistake the truth for something that is still just a mere representation. However, even though we are only exposed to representations in this universe, it's important to recognize that there are hints of universal truth in all representations, and we must not let Plato's theory of "degrees of truth" make us cynical to the truth we can encounter in poetry and other forms of art.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Keats’ Negative Capability and Maimonides

John Keats’ collection of Letters includes the 1817 “To George and Thomas Keats,” where he introduces his idea of negative capability. The passage reads:

“…I had not a dispute but a disquisition with Dilke, on various subjects; several things dovetailed in my mind, & at once it struck me, what quality went to form a Man of Achievement especially in Literature & which Shakespeare possessed so enormously— I mean Negative Capability, that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact & reason…” (Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume II, 968)

In British Literature After 1800, Laura Bloxham gave three variants on how one can interpret Keats’ negative capability: one, characterizing the author with distance or objectivity; two, removing the poem from any sort of standards, making the context of the poem within the poem itself; and three, holding uncertainties without the need for resolution.

I asked Laura (as those also within the class can attest) what negative capability would look like for a reader as opposed to an author. And, it seems that when applied to the reader, Keats and his negative capability is not all that different from of our pal Maimonides and his contentment within perplexity. Keats even uses the words “uncertainties, Mysteries, doubts” to describe the condition of the author (or reader)— how very Maimonides of him.

There could be reservations in linking Keats and Maimonides because while Keats explicitly references the author amidst uncertainty, Maimonides allocates uncertainty and mystery to only the reader. But would it be all that absurd for Maimonides to claim that authors of Biblical texts (who, although divinely inspired, were human) shared in a similar uncertain, mystified, even awe-filled state while trying to write?

Remnants of Thomas Hobbes’ Aesthetic Philosophy

In addition to Literary Criticism, I am also taking History of Modern Philosophy. To the displeasure of most of my classmates, I’ve been examining texts with a more rhetorical and aesthetic eye. Perhaps this is because I have Literary Criticism in the morning, followed by History of Modern Philosophy in the afternoon. So far we have read Francis Bacon’s Novum Organum (which those Rhetorical Methods and Approaches folks have also read) and Rene Descartes’ Meditations on First Philosophy. We are now reading Thomas Hobbes’ Leviathan.

Leviathan is predominately an exploration of metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics. However, I think Hobbes’ “Introduction” to Leviathan speaks to the aesthetic philosophies we’ve been looking at in our class. Take a look at the first paragraph of the “Introduction,” with specific attention to how he may (or may not, I easily could be wrong!) invoke Platonic mimesis. Remember that although we may glean an aesthetic philosophy from this introduction, Hobbes’ most likely was discussing art as means to legitimize the man-made Leviathan, or sovereign ruler.

Hobbes wrote Leviathan in 1651, centuries before Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s 1807 “Phenomenology of Spirit” and 1835-38 “Lectures on Fine Art.” But I think you could argue that Hobbes and Hegel share a similar sort of Platonism. Both acknowledge art as representation, or mimesis, of some Idea or Beyond-ness, but their staunch empiricism gives value to what is man-made. Hobbes equates the artificial with the natural, giving the artificial man similar (if not increased) agency and importance to the natural man. Hegel perhaps takes said valuing farther, as he “asserts the superiority of human-made artistic objects to God-made natural ones.” (539)

If only my History of Modern Philosophy compatriots thought this was as interesting as I did. Oh well, that’s what I have you all for! What do you think? Are these fair claims?

Monday, February 16, 2015

It's the End of the World As We Know It (And There's No Paper to Prove It)

Hey all,

If you were scrolling through Facebook this weekend you might have noticed a series of articles describing what Vint Cerf, a Google vice president, sees as a possible "digital dark age." For your convenience, I've posted a link to one of the articles here: (http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-31450389).

Essentially, Cerf argues that technology advancements are moving at an exponential rate, which means we could lose large portions of the 21st century's history (by which he means information that contributes to individual and communal narratives, like family photos). Because digital hardware is always becoming more advanced (and doesn't always allow for backwards compatibility) we risk bits of information whenever we store it on hard drives or cloud-based technology. The solution? Cerf suggests companies preserve software and hardware through a server in the cloud (for a fee, of course).

Obviously the premise of a "digital dark age" (no I didn't make that up) seems a bit ridiculous. Yes, people lose bits and pieces of information whenever they upgrade, but that only really applies to an ability to move information from one platform to another. Think about all those family pictures your mom has spent five years scanning so that she can post them on Facebook. Those pictures now not only occupy physical space (in terms of the pictures themselves and the negatives) but they also exist on two different platforms (on your computer's hard drive and on Facebook's site). So, yes, we are throwing a ton of information into a vacuum. But, save for a complete meltdown, duplicates upon duplicates will always exist somewhere.

Ranting aside, I thought we could continue the conversation we started on Thursday with this piece. If we were to believe Google vice presidents it would seem that Plato was right to fear writing as a mode of communication (what happens when all the paper is gone and nobody has memorized Homer?!). Are we really doomed to lose all information or is this manner of thinking directly related to what Walter Ong argues in The Written Word: Literacy in Translation? Here's another link for your convenience: (http://www.bc.edu/content/dam/files/centers/boisi/pdf/f08/ong_article.pdf).

Feel free to contribute your thoughts to this conversation. The technology of writing is something I've been thinking about since Jan term, so I'd love to hear other people's opinions on effective information sharing. Consider this passage from Ong:

"As a time-obviating, context-free mechanism, writing separates the known from the knower more definitely than the original orally grounded manoeuvre [sic] of naming does, but it also unites the knower and the known more consciously and more articulately. Writing is a consciousness-raising and humanizing technology. So is print, even more, and, in its own way, so is the computer. But that is another story, which has yet to be told or written or printed or processed in the course of this series" (48).

Now, I think, is the perfect time to engage with the story our culture is currently writing, a story chronicled through digital composition.