Richard Wolin, a professor of history and comparative literature at City University of New York, has written an interesting book entitled The Seduction of Unreason: The Intellectual Romance with Fascism from Nietzsche to Postmodernism. Although its title is cumbersome (it seems authors these days must include explanatory subtitles, as it were, following colons, in every book title) the writing is not. It's a lengthy book, but unfortunately there's much to tell.
The title of the book is, shall we say, suggestive of its argument. If it had been written by an American or English philosopher, continental philosophers and their followers here would likely ignore it. But perhaps the author's status as a professor of comparative literature will lure them into reading at least summaries of the book, comparative literature buffs being far more capable philosophers than actual philosophers almost by definition as far as postmodernists are concerned.
It's not clear to me that the romance of intellectuals with autocracy began with Nietzsche. I think certain philosophers have always had a fondness for "enlightened" despotism. Even J.S. Mill in his more Romantic moments thought this would be beneficial, and under the influence of such as Coleridge dreamt up a kind of elite, a "clerisy", which would govern humanity wisely. This pernicious view has been with us since Plato, at least.
But fascism is a peculiar, modern form of autocracy, a hodgepodge of political, racial, quasi-religious, quasi-philosophical and nationalistic mumbo-jumbo, and as such grew out of what I think can fairly be called the "unreason" which resulted from the reaction to the Enlightenment which has been called (not very creatively) the Counter-Enlightenment. I personally prefer calling it the Un-Enlightenment. Some thought that because reason, in and of itself, didn't produce a paradise here on Earth, it's opposite should be unleashed upon the world.
It turns out reason's opposite could be all kinds of things when considered by European intellectuals. The emotions, the instincts, Jungian collective unconscious, the erotic, the spirit inherent in a particular race or purported race or nation. Whatever was unreasonable in human beings was glorified at least as much as reason, or what was thought reason, was glorified by other European intellectuals during the Enlightenment. This intellectual environment was ideal for the growth of fascism, a political/social/cultural philosophy dependent on the unreasonable, dismissive of moderation and tolerance, devoted to the irrational in humanity.
This led to what was extremely goofy in some cases, as Wolin points out. There is Georges Bataille, for example, a follower of Nietzsche who was fascinated with human sacrifice. He and others formed a little society which was devoted to the idea, if not the practice, of human sacrifice. It seems its members were willing to be sacrificed but not inclined to perform the sacrifice, sadly. Bataille was an influence on Foucault, who favored the Iranian revolution and the religious fascism of the Islamic clerics who took control after the Shah was overthrown, and others. I'm not sure what was going on in the case of Bataille and sacrifice, but suspect he thought this was the sort of thing unreasonable people would and should do, which is undeniable, and that there was something mystic and pagan involved in it.
Goofiness aside, though, the emphasis on unreason motivated the endorsement of Hitler's Nazism and Mussolini's fascism by a number of thinkers dissatisfied with liberal democratic politics and values. This is pretty well documented, and Wolin of course goes into some detail regarding famous Nazis and fellow travelers such as Heidegger and Paul de Man.
Mussolini's Italy and Hitler's Germany were once considered models of efficiency and, it's hard to believe, physical and mental health. It was thought that these nations had a vigor and intensity lacking in liberal democracies, for what may be considered spiritual reasons. They were one, a people united, not chaotic in the manner of the democracies and especially the Weimer Republic. Most importantly it seems to their intellectual devotees, they had abandoned liberal values as well; freedom, individuality, the conflict of ideas and worst of all, materialism. Money and business have always been the subjects of contempt for the learned as well as the aristocratic. Of course, the learned were also inclined to associate them with Jews, themselves yet another subject of contempt.
It's quite possible to overestimate reason, and to impute too much importance to it. It's also quite possible to underestimate the significance of the irrational in our lives. Man cannot live by reason alone, and it may be said that the Enlightenment thinkers erred in their zealous emphasis and reliance on it to the exclusion of all else. I think sometimes that those of the Enlightenment were drunk on their sudden freedom from the dominance of the Church.
But I find it impossible to blame the Enlightenment for the ills of our society, as it seems members of the Un-Enlightenment are inclined to do. It isn't reason or science which motivated the Holocaust, for example. Essential to that horror were concepts of the Volk and German Romanticism and mysticism. They were also essential to German expansionism and sense of mastery and special purpose; to rule the world and thereby save it. Heidegger warned against technology but eagerly joined in the glorification of Hitler and in according him the status of a demigod.
We're at out best when we think, and as Dewey said we think when we're presented with problems. Thinking involves problem solving and is essential to it. We don't think when we rely on mysticism, our so-called inherent nature, our "being", our vigor, our unity, religion, our race in making decisions. It's when we abandon reason as a means to solve problems that we produce monsters and follow them. We become followers only, in fact, as we don't think but rather feel; followers only follow, some better than others. Reason provides the best chance of understanding and solving the problems we face in life.
Unreason doesn't require justification. There's no process by which those seduced by it test its results, no questions are asked as unreason isn't subject to question or for that matter definition. Questioning, defining, testing have no place when reason isn't employed, but is instead shunned. The result is certainty, but at a terrible price, as the certain are thoughtless, intolerant and cruel.
Monday, October 26, 2015
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Now, the World Really is too Much with Us
Wordsworth's poem The World is too Much with Us is I think an admirable one. I'm afraid that I can't normally think of Wordsworth without envisioning Bullwinkle reciting "I wandered lonely as a cloud"; but I think this Romantic English poet did a good job in the case of this one poem, at least.
The poem has been construed as being a condemnation by Wordsworth of a materialistic culture resulting from the Industrial Revolution, and the resulting disconnection of people, and civilization, from nature. I can't complain about love of nature; as a Stoic, or struggling Stoic, I seek to live "in accordance with nature." But I suspect most Romantics of having aristocratic, even elitist, leanings, and so tend to believe that their disgust with industry and "trade" was combined with a contempt of the "common folk." Those folk were no longer content to be the simple, jolly peasants the Romantics dreamt they were, dancing around the Maypole when not tending the grounds and flocks of their betters through hard and uncompensated labor. They were becoming men of business, and business was an abomination to those wandering lonely as clouds, swooning over daffodils.
What exactly Wordsworth meant by "with us" is unclear to me. However, I feel the world is much more "with us" than it was in his day, when the world intruded upon him and others via printed word, or through trains and the telegraph. By the world being "with us" I refer, even if Wordsworth did not, not merely to our access to information about people, places, things, events, acts, opinions, beliefs, but that such information is foisted on us by others regardless of our desires.
No doubt the ubiquity of newspapers and journals, travel and communication by train and telegraph, was remarkable to many living in the first half of the 19th century. It may well have felt to them that the world was growing too small as a consequence compared to how it felt when travel and communication was by horseback, or perhaps by semaphore. Perhaps they also felt that something more was lost to them than their relative isolation.
If so, they would be horrified by the accelerating reduction of the world we experience in our time. I'm not sure they could even imagine a world in which people can obtain whatever information they seek in a matter of seconds and communicate whatever thoughts, desires, opinions, feelings they have to everyone else in the world in roughly the same period of time and in the same manner.
The world is there, with us, at all times unless we make the effort to disengage from it. All of the world, good and bad, but most especially the bad because of the media, our politicians and the pundits who are professionally outraged and have the means to tell us so. They seem to delight in telling us what is bad, why it is bad, and what it is they think someone else should do about it.
There certainly is bad in the world, but is there more bad than there has been in the past? More people, more bad; this seems an unobjectionable inference, at least to a cynic. But if one accepts such a conclusion, is there proportionately more bad now? I don't think we can make that assumption (which is what I think it must be, absent evidence). Because we can learn, or are told, of bad people, bad things, all over the world, constantly, and because bad people can make themselves known to others with great ease, and this was not the case not all that long ago, there may have been just as many bad people and things in the past.
In the past, however, we did not know of them as we didn't have the means to know of them. We knew of some, but had neither the capacity nor the desire to know of others, nor were we as vulnerable--exposed--to them as we are now. They can appear before us at any time. We need only participate in a social network, or expose ourselves, as it were, via Twitter, or read or make comments on some media post or blog post, to be subjected to people at their worst.
We humans seem to be unable to improve ourselves to any significant extent except in extraordinary circumstances, or indeed to change ourselves at all for good or ill, so I doubt we are any better or worse now than we have been in our relatively long and bloody history. The difference is that when we are bad now, as we are all too frequently, it is nearly impossible for people throughout the world to be ignorant of our evil thoughts and deeds. We, or someone else, will intrude upon their blissful ignorance and tell them all about it.
Knowledge may be good. It may even be power, sometimes. But knowledge of everything done or thought by other people, everywhere, is oppressive, and can lead to despair, which can in turn lead to danger. Philosophical considerations aside, I think Stoicism as a way of life provides a means by which we can avoid being overwhelmed and unduly influenced by the world which is constantly with us. There are so many things beyond our control which should not disturb us. We must do the best we can with what we have and take the rest as it happens.
The poem has been construed as being a condemnation by Wordsworth of a materialistic culture resulting from the Industrial Revolution, and the resulting disconnection of people, and civilization, from nature. I can't complain about love of nature; as a Stoic, or struggling Stoic, I seek to live "in accordance with nature." But I suspect most Romantics of having aristocratic, even elitist, leanings, and so tend to believe that their disgust with industry and "trade" was combined with a contempt of the "common folk." Those folk were no longer content to be the simple, jolly peasants the Romantics dreamt they were, dancing around the Maypole when not tending the grounds and flocks of their betters through hard and uncompensated labor. They were becoming men of business, and business was an abomination to those wandering lonely as clouds, swooning over daffodils.
What exactly Wordsworth meant by "with us" is unclear to me. However, I feel the world is much more "with us" than it was in his day, when the world intruded upon him and others via printed word, or through trains and the telegraph. By the world being "with us" I refer, even if Wordsworth did not, not merely to our access to information about people, places, things, events, acts, opinions, beliefs, but that such information is foisted on us by others regardless of our desires.
No doubt the ubiquity of newspapers and journals, travel and communication by train and telegraph, was remarkable to many living in the first half of the 19th century. It may well have felt to them that the world was growing too small as a consequence compared to how it felt when travel and communication was by horseback, or perhaps by semaphore. Perhaps they also felt that something more was lost to them than their relative isolation.
If so, they would be horrified by the accelerating reduction of the world we experience in our time. I'm not sure they could even imagine a world in which people can obtain whatever information they seek in a matter of seconds and communicate whatever thoughts, desires, opinions, feelings they have to everyone else in the world in roughly the same period of time and in the same manner.
The world is there, with us, at all times unless we make the effort to disengage from it. All of the world, good and bad, but most especially the bad because of the media, our politicians and the pundits who are professionally outraged and have the means to tell us so. They seem to delight in telling us what is bad, why it is bad, and what it is they think someone else should do about it.
There certainly is bad in the world, but is there more bad than there has been in the past? More people, more bad; this seems an unobjectionable inference, at least to a cynic. But if one accepts such a conclusion, is there proportionately more bad now? I don't think we can make that assumption (which is what I think it must be, absent evidence). Because we can learn, or are told, of bad people, bad things, all over the world, constantly, and because bad people can make themselves known to others with great ease, and this was not the case not all that long ago, there may have been just as many bad people and things in the past.
In the past, however, we did not know of them as we didn't have the means to know of them. We knew of some, but had neither the capacity nor the desire to know of others, nor were we as vulnerable--exposed--to them as we are now. They can appear before us at any time. We need only participate in a social network, or expose ourselves, as it were, via Twitter, or read or make comments on some media post or blog post, to be subjected to people at their worst.
We humans seem to be unable to improve ourselves to any significant extent except in extraordinary circumstances, or indeed to change ourselves at all for good or ill, so I doubt we are any better or worse now than we have been in our relatively long and bloody history. The difference is that when we are bad now, as we are all too frequently, it is nearly impossible for people throughout the world to be ignorant of our evil thoughts and deeds. We, or someone else, will intrude upon their blissful ignorance and tell them all about it.
Knowledge may be good. It may even be power, sometimes. But knowledge of everything done or thought by other people, everywhere, is oppressive, and can lead to despair, which can in turn lead to danger. Philosophical considerations aside, I think Stoicism as a way of life provides a means by which we can avoid being overwhelmed and unduly influenced by the world which is constantly with us. There are so many things beyond our control which should not disturb us. We must do the best we can with what we have and take the rest as it happens.
Friday, October 2, 2015
The Banality of our Responses to Evil
I've read that there are some who feel that Hannah Arendt, in referring to "the banality of evil" in her book regarding Eichmann in Israel, fiddled somewhat with the facts and the record to better support the accuracy of that neat little phrase describing what took place in Nazi Germany. It wouldn't be the first time someone has altered facts to support a theory, or arrived at a theory and found facts, or something less than factual, to support it.
Arendt's taste in men may certainly be questioned in light of her fondness for her morally and physically repulsive seducer, Heidegger. But what I've read of her work seems to me to indicate she was sensible and insightful in various other respects, so I reserve judgment on her claim about evil specifically as it relates to what took place in the twelve years the Nazis ruled Germany and wrecked havoc on Europe and its non-Germanic peoples. I think, though, that evil need not be banal and often is not banal. What seems clearly banal is our response to it here in God's favorite country.
The statements we're hearing from the media and the politicians and pundits who beset us regarding the deaths and injuries in Oregon due to the shootings at a community college yesterday are examples of this banality. What is being said is determined by the political stance of the person/entity making the statement, and is easily inferred once that stance is known. The stance is already known, of course, in many cases. There are calls for more gun laws. There are calls for more guns. There are calls for more people carrying more guns. There are claims current laws are not being enforced. There are claims that no existing laws would have prevented the violence, and that no other laws will, or that other laws which would succeed in preventing gun violence cannot be adopted as they would violate the Second Amendment.
I've made it clear already in this place that I think those in charge of the NRA (not necessarily all those who are members of it) are mere shills for the gun manufacturing industry, and so are interested primarily if not solely in the selling of all guns which are manufactured by that industry. I've also made it clear I feel that those who believe the Second Amendment establishes an absolute right to bear arms of any kind are foolish if not deluded, and that those who think the government is plotting to take away their firearms are clearly deluded.
I've also noted I think those who feel that if teachers and other "regular" people carry guns (i.e. not merely police and other law enforcement offices) they will be able to protect themselves and others indulge in a fantasy. Trained law enforcement personnel have problems with accurately shooting firearms. Untrained people involved in a tense and frightful situation like a firefight will more likely be a danger to anyone near them than to a determined shooter.
As well rely on Elmer Fudd coming to the rescue.
But I don't want to dwell on these arguments. Instead, I write regarding the numbingly stupid, futile, ordinary, predictable nature of the debate which takes place after one of these sadly frequent events. Fox News, which always may be relied on to say something silly, seems to be characterizing this event as part of the "War Against Christianity" it keeps maintaining is taking place. Indeed, what else would it say under the circumstances? Certainly nothing which is not superficial and not good for a headline.
Some pathetic, deranged, perhaps narcissistic loser/loner has firearms and uses them against others and away we go, off on the merry-go-round of rhetoric. Though all those involved in the posturing which takes place are banal in their response, one can at least sympathize with those who seek an answer, who want some king of substantive response to be made. Those who say such things just happen, or sell more guns, however, are despicable in their complacency and presumption.
I'm now a gun owner. I have a shotgun, with which I try to blow flying clay discs out of the air. It's a pastime requiring a certain skill, and which I enjoy. I don't feel that in owning a shotgun I'm exercising some sacred right, however. I find the thought of using my shotgun to defend myself from a tyrannical government laughable. My ownership of a firearm has not imbued me with the desire that all should own one, or the belief that they should not be regulated. Why should it?
Tired rhetoric is no effective response to evil, but it's the only response we seem to have to evil of this kind. What does it say about our country when murder and massacre are grounds only for more of the same posturing?
Arendt's taste in men may certainly be questioned in light of her fondness for her morally and physically repulsive seducer, Heidegger. But what I've read of her work seems to me to indicate she was sensible and insightful in various other respects, so I reserve judgment on her claim about evil specifically as it relates to what took place in the twelve years the Nazis ruled Germany and wrecked havoc on Europe and its non-Germanic peoples. I think, though, that evil need not be banal and often is not banal. What seems clearly banal is our response to it here in God's favorite country.
The statements we're hearing from the media and the politicians and pundits who beset us regarding the deaths and injuries in Oregon due to the shootings at a community college yesterday are examples of this banality. What is being said is determined by the political stance of the person/entity making the statement, and is easily inferred once that stance is known. The stance is already known, of course, in many cases. There are calls for more gun laws. There are calls for more guns. There are calls for more people carrying more guns. There are claims current laws are not being enforced. There are claims that no existing laws would have prevented the violence, and that no other laws will, or that other laws which would succeed in preventing gun violence cannot be adopted as they would violate the Second Amendment.
I've made it clear already in this place that I think those in charge of the NRA (not necessarily all those who are members of it) are mere shills for the gun manufacturing industry, and so are interested primarily if not solely in the selling of all guns which are manufactured by that industry. I've also made it clear I feel that those who believe the Second Amendment establishes an absolute right to bear arms of any kind are foolish if not deluded, and that those who think the government is plotting to take away their firearms are clearly deluded.
I've also noted I think those who feel that if teachers and other "regular" people carry guns (i.e. not merely police and other law enforcement offices) they will be able to protect themselves and others indulge in a fantasy. Trained law enforcement personnel have problems with accurately shooting firearms. Untrained people involved in a tense and frightful situation like a firefight will more likely be a danger to anyone near them than to a determined shooter.
As well rely on Elmer Fudd coming to the rescue.
But I don't want to dwell on these arguments. Instead, I write regarding the numbingly stupid, futile, ordinary, predictable nature of the debate which takes place after one of these sadly frequent events. Fox News, which always may be relied on to say something silly, seems to be characterizing this event as part of the "War Against Christianity" it keeps maintaining is taking place. Indeed, what else would it say under the circumstances? Certainly nothing which is not superficial and not good for a headline.
Some pathetic, deranged, perhaps narcissistic loser/loner has firearms and uses them against others and away we go, off on the merry-go-round of rhetoric. Though all those involved in the posturing which takes place are banal in their response, one can at least sympathize with those who seek an answer, who want some king of substantive response to be made. Those who say such things just happen, or sell more guns, however, are despicable in their complacency and presumption.
I'm now a gun owner. I have a shotgun, with which I try to blow flying clay discs out of the air. It's a pastime requiring a certain skill, and which I enjoy. I don't feel that in owning a shotgun I'm exercising some sacred right, however. I find the thought of using my shotgun to defend myself from a tyrannical government laughable. My ownership of a firearm has not imbued me with the desire that all should own one, or the belief that they should not be regulated. Why should it?
Tired rhetoric is no effective response to evil, but it's the only response we seem to have to evil of this kind. What does it say about our country when murder and massacre are grounds only for more of the same posturing?
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
The Things that are Caesar's
Dr. Ben Carson is one of the candidates for what seems to me to be the increasingly undesirable office of President of our Glorious Republic. It is at least being sought by undesirables if it is not undesirable in itself. In any event, Dr. Carson is at the center of the most current tempest in the teapot of our politics, which is largely devoted to expressions of outrage against one thing or another.
He has given the various pundits, media types and politicians who infest our country yet another opportunity to pontificate while on their way to their respective troughs, this time with respect to his comment that a Muslim should not be President. The Presidency is a position which arguably should not be held by anyone who seeks to be President, their sanity or their motivations being prima facie suspect. But declaring that a believer in a particular religion should not be President is of course problematic, or would be were in not for the fact that the particular religion in question is unpopular.
The good doctor has stumbled about while enlarging upon his statements, to the extent that he begins to appear incoherent. However, one of the things he has said seems to make a great deal of sense, to me at least. And that is, to paraphrase him, that someone whose religion conflicts with the Constitution should not be President. He has also made (in explanation of his comment specifically against a Muslim President) some encouraging statements against theocracy; not only Islamic theocracy but Christian theocracy.
The position that one should not be President if one cannot be faithful to the Constitution due to religious conviction is I think very defensible, and one which should apply in the case of any official charged with enforcing and implementing the law. The fact a Muslim was referred to has given some the irresistible urge to make claims of prejudice, and others an equally irresistible urge to elaborate on their belief that Christianity, or perhaps the Judeo-Christian belief system, is superior to Islam. For me, the histrionics engaged in by such people in claiming bigotry or (their) superiority are characteristic of the lamentable state of our political discourse (and our intelligence), and distract from the very significant point at issue, which may even have been the point Dr. Carson intended to make.
Put simply, religious believers should not be allowed to hold office if their religious convictions render them incapable of complying with their duty to enforce and implement the law. This may not be a position religious believers of any kind will be willing to accept, including some purported Christians, as we have seen. No distinction should be made among the religious convictions involved. If a religious conviction is such that those holding it believe themselves to be bound to flout secular law, they should not hold a position which requires them to comply with secular law.
This would not violate the prohibition against a "religious test" being used as a qualification for public office. That is because the rule of law itself is in question. Whether one is willing to comply with the law is not a "religious test"; it addresses whether one is willing to accept the rule of law. The law is not, and should not be, religious law; should not be religious, in fact, though it may in some cases be consistent with religious beliefs. In some cases it may not.
One of the more interesting statements to be found in the Bible is that of Jesus regarding rendering unto Caesar that which is Caesar's and unto God that which is God's. It's possible he may have simply been having a bit of fun at the expense of his questioner; it's a clever riposte, certainly. But laws are essential to government. They are peculiarly Caesar's in other words. They may be draconian, but when reasonable they're our best hope of living free from the dictates of others. There are few who are more eager to dictate to others than those who believe they have God's sanction to do so.
Those making the claim "freedom of religion" mandates the flouting of the law will, unless they are entirely stupid, eventually have to accept that this claim can be made equally by those who have religious beliefs which are radically different, which they would be unwilling to accept. It will not do for them to claim that believers in certain religions must comply with the law while believers in the religion they believe need not do so.
This particular controversy should serve to make this clear even to those politicians and pundits of the meanest understanding. But it's doubtful they'll take the time to address the issue thoughtfully. Thought is not encouraged or rewarded in these dark times.
He has given the various pundits, media types and politicians who infest our country yet another opportunity to pontificate while on their way to their respective troughs, this time with respect to his comment that a Muslim should not be President. The Presidency is a position which arguably should not be held by anyone who seeks to be President, their sanity or their motivations being prima facie suspect. But declaring that a believer in a particular religion should not be President is of course problematic, or would be were in not for the fact that the particular religion in question is unpopular.
The good doctor has stumbled about while enlarging upon his statements, to the extent that he begins to appear incoherent. However, one of the things he has said seems to make a great deal of sense, to me at least. And that is, to paraphrase him, that someone whose religion conflicts with the Constitution should not be President. He has also made (in explanation of his comment specifically against a Muslim President) some encouraging statements against theocracy; not only Islamic theocracy but Christian theocracy.
The position that one should not be President if one cannot be faithful to the Constitution due to religious conviction is I think very defensible, and one which should apply in the case of any official charged with enforcing and implementing the law. The fact a Muslim was referred to has given some the irresistible urge to make claims of prejudice, and others an equally irresistible urge to elaborate on their belief that Christianity, or perhaps the Judeo-Christian belief system, is superior to Islam. For me, the histrionics engaged in by such people in claiming bigotry or (their) superiority are characteristic of the lamentable state of our political discourse (and our intelligence), and distract from the very significant point at issue, which may even have been the point Dr. Carson intended to make.
Put simply, religious believers should not be allowed to hold office if their religious convictions render them incapable of complying with their duty to enforce and implement the law. This may not be a position religious believers of any kind will be willing to accept, including some purported Christians, as we have seen. No distinction should be made among the religious convictions involved. If a religious conviction is such that those holding it believe themselves to be bound to flout secular law, they should not hold a position which requires them to comply with secular law.
This would not violate the prohibition against a "religious test" being used as a qualification for public office. That is because the rule of law itself is in question. Whether one is willing to comply with the law is not a "religious test"; it addresses whether one is willing to accept the rule of law. The law is not, and should not be, religious law; should not be religious, in fact, though it may in some cases be consistent with religious beliefs. In some cases it may not.
One of the more interesting statements to be found in the Bible is that of Jesus regarding rendering unto Caesar that which is Caesar's and unto God that which is God's. It's possible he may have simply been having a bit of fun at the expense of his questioner; it's a clever riposte, certainly. But laws are essential to government. They are peculiarly Caesar's in other words. They may be draconian, but when reasonable they're our best hope of living free from the dictates of others. There are few who are more eager to dictate to others than those who believe they have God's sanction to do so.
Those making the claim "freedom of religion" mandates the flouting of the law will, unless they are entirely stupid, eventually have to accept that this claim can be made equally by those who have religious beliefs which are radically different, which they would be unwilling to accept. It will not do for them to claim that believers in certain religions must comply with the law while believers in the religion they believe need not do so.
This particular controversy should serve to make this clear even to those politicians and pundits of the meanest understanding. But it's doubtful they'll take the time to address the issue thoughtfully. Thought is not encouraged or rewarded in these dark times.
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
"A Child of the Earth and the Starry Heavens"
The words of the title of this post are the words initiates of the Orphic mysteries were taught to say when asked to identify themselves in the afterlife. It's a rather wonderful statement, I believe; a characterization to be proud of, poetic in nature.
The Orphic mysteries were what some might call a watered-down version of those of Dionysus; others might call them a far more reasonable version. The worship of Dionysus could be rather excessive, best characterized by the maenads, the female followers or priestesses of the god who worked themselves into a frenzy while paying homage. It apparently involved (so it's said), in some cases at least, tearing a poor animal to pieces and feasting on its raw flesh. The unfortunate beast thus was treated as Dionysus was by the Titans. The Orphic mysteries were much more subdued.
During the Roman period, the worship of Dionysus along with others, such as Magna Mater and Attis, Isis and Osiris, was fundamentally the worship of a god who died and was reborn, whose death and regeneration was for the salvation of humanity. Initiates of these cults were spoken of as having been "born again." If that is a somewhat familiar phrase, it should be. The similarity between Christianity and the ancient pagan cults popular in the time Christianity was born and became popular itself is remarkable. The extent to which Christianity is based on the ancient pagan mysteries would probably be even more stunning if the initiates of the pagan cults had been less faithful to their vows of secrecy and the early Church less successful in stamping them out.
But the Orphic identification has an additional significance, I think. Not because it speaks of men and women as part earth and part heaven. This view is something familiar to us through the dualism which has been fundamental to Western culture through the centuries; the distinction between body and soul. Rather, because of the use of the word "and" in the formula, if it may be called such. No distinction is made in this case. We are, therefore, children of earth and the heavens, as we are children of a man and a woman.
This isn't dualism in the traditional sense, at least as I interpret the phrase. A child of earth and heaven doesn't necessarily have two aspects, one inferior or of less worth than another, e.g. a body which is unimportant and a soul which is all-important. That's how we're conceived of by the Church and Plato before it. It's a point of view which consigns the world and living in it to insignificance, if it doesn't result in a view of our lives as being fraught with evil or impurity. It's a life-hating and world-hating perspective.
In my interpretation, the statement is one which acknowledges that the earth and the starry heavens are parts of a single whole, as are we. There is no reference to or reliance on something or some being which transcends the universe (and is therefore unimaginable and inconceivable). At the same time, though, there is an acknowledgment that the universe includes not "merely" us and the world as we know it, but may include much more that we have yet to encounter and will encounter someday, perhaps even after death; something among the "starry heavens."
As science indicates more and more that life exists throughout the universe, and that life here may be the result of the transmission of the elements favorable to life to our planet from other places, the reference to being a child of the starry heavens may be even more appropriate than the followers of Orpheus knew. Regardless, the phrase speaks to a form of religion or spirituality which is naturalistic, and a divinity which is immanent, also a part of the universe.
This seems to be the Stoic view, if Stoicism is as some claim a kind of religion, or a religious philosophy. It seems to have been to such to Epictetus and even Seneca, though the "thoughts" of Marcus Aurelius are ambiguous in this respect. Nevertheless, Stoicism generally at least in ancient times accepted the idea of Providence and a Divine Reason, present in the universe as a kind of matter.
There is a basis for a spirituality, a religion perhaps, which involves reverence for the universe and its creatures and is not dependent on a belief in something apart from the universe, i.e. apart from all we know and can know. I think one religion, one God, may be considered more reasonable than another even if not subject to proof. One that doesn't require acceptance of what cannot be experienced is prima facie more reasonable than one which does.
The Orphic mysteries were what some might call a watered-down version of those of Dionysus; others might call them a far more reasonable version. The worship of Dionysus could be rather excessive, best characterized by the maenads, the female followers or priestesses of the god who worked themselves into a frenzy while paying homage. It apparently involved (so it's said), in some cases at least, tearing a poor animal to pieces and feasting on its raw flesh. The unfortunate beast thus was treated as Dionysus was by the Titans. The Orphic mysteries were much more subdued.
During the Roman period, the worship of Dionysus along with others, such as Magna Mater and Attis, Isis and Osiris, was fundamentally the worship of a god who died and was reborn, whose death and regeneration was for the salvation of humanity. Initiates of these cults were spoken of as having been "born again." If that is a somewhat familiar phrase, it should be. The similarity between Christianity and the ancient pagan cults popular in the time Christianity was born and became popular itself is remarkable. The extent to which Christianity is based on the ancient pagan mysteries would probably be even more stunning if the initiates of the pagan cults had been less faithful to their vows of secrecy and the early Church less successful in stamping them out.
But the Orphic identification has an additional significance, I think. Not because it speaks of men and women as part earth and part heaven. This view is something familiar to us through the dualism which has been fundamental to Western culture through the centuries; the distinction between body and soul. Rather, because of the use of the word "and" in the formula, if it may be called such. No distinction is made in this case. We are, therefore, children of earth and the heavens, as we are children of a man and a woman.
This isn't dualism in the traditional sense, at least as I interpret the phrase. A child of earth and heaven doesn't necessarily have two aspects, one inferior or of less worth than another, e.g. a body which is unimportant and a soul which is all-important. That's how we're conceived of by the Church and Plato before it. It's a point of view which consigns the world and living in it to insignificance, if it doesn't result in a view of our lives as being fraught with evil or impurity. It's a life-hating and world-hating perspective.
In my interpretation, the statement is one which acknowledges that the earth and the starry heavens are parts of a single whole, as are we. There is no reference to or reliance on something or some being which transcends the universe (and is therefore unimaginable and inconceivable). At the same time, though, there is an acknowledgment that the universe includes not "merely" us and the world as we know it, but may include much more that we have yet to encounter and will encounter someday, perhaps even after death; something among the "starry heavens."
As science indicates more and more that life exists throughout the universe, and that life here may be the result of the transmission of the elements favorable to life to our planet from other places, the reference to being a child of the starry heavens may be even more appropriate than the followers of Orpheus knew. Regardless, the phrase speaks to a form of religion or spirituality which is naturalistic, and a divinity which is immanent, also a part of the universe.
This seems to be the Stoic view, if Stoicism is as some claim a kind of religion, or a religious philosophy. It seems to have been to such to Epictetus and even Seneca, though the "thoughts" of Marcus Aurelius are ambiguous in this respect. Nevertheless, Stoicism generally at least in ancient times accepted the idea of Providence and a Divine Reason, present in the universe as a kind of matter.
There is a basis for a spirituality, a religion perhaps, which involves reverence for the universe and its creatures and is not dependent on a belief in something apart from the universe, i.e. apart from all we know and can know. I think one religion, one God, may be considered more reasonable than another even if not subject to proof. One that doesn't require acceptance of what cannot be experienced is prima facie more reasonable than one which does.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)