Eclectic selection
Once someone told me that my choice of books is quite
eclectic. As soon as I had finished Arthur Schopenhauer’s The World as Will and Representation, I started to read an
anthology of Simone Weil, which I happened to find in a book shop when I was on
holiday in Estonia this summer. I must admit that Schopenhauer and Weil are
very different kinds of philosophers, but does this mean that my choice is
really so eclectic? For what kinds of books I read, already since many years the
philosophy of mind and action is at the centre of my field of interest; and
also a theme that I am concerned with already much longer: non-violence. As I
see it now, this will still remain so for the time to come, although you never
know what will happen. Alternatively, however, one can say that at the
forefront of my philosophical thinking are the questions I have chosen as the
subtitle of my most recent book: Who am I? What do I do? (which is expressed also
in my blogs here). Seen in that light, books like Schopenhauer’s or Weil’s are
not more than side-roads for me.
Be it as it is, I think that actually it would be
better if many philosophers would have a wider choice of reading than they
have. How often doesn’t it happen that I read a philosophical article or book and
I think: What is asserted here is absolutely not according to the facts. This author
trusts too much his intuition and if he had read a bit about the theme, he
would have known that it is simply not right, what is said here, or at least it
is doubtful and needs more discussion or it needs some evidential support
instead of relying only on intuition. Often this happens when the philosopher
concerned supposes something intuitively about how the mind works or about
social behaviour. So many new discoveries have been done in brain research and
so much has been discovered about how the minds works in recent years, that the days
are gone, I think, that one can philosophize only or mainly on the base of
intuition about such themes. And also society is often more complicated than an
intuitive feeling can bring to the light. It would be good for philosophy, if
it would be more eclectic in a certain sense. How the world is shaped cannot be
thought out intuitively, to formulate it succinctly.
Coming back to Simone Weil, hadn’t I seen that
anthology of her work in an Estonian book shop, maybe I would never have read a
word of her writings, which has yet been so influential, although Weil was
philosophically a bit of a loner. Her philosophy touches central themes of life
and Weil herself participated in the main events of her time (the labour
movement; the resistance against the Nazi occupation of her country France). While
reading her work, again and again I discovered insights that I discussed here
in my blogs from the viewpoints of other philosophers or researchers. Take for
example this. In her “The Iliad or the Poem of Force” Weil writes: “… the
conquering soldier is like a scourge of nature. Possessed by war, he … becomes
a thing, though his manner of doing is so different – over him, too, words are
as powerful as over matter itself. And both, at the touch of force, experience
its inevitable effects: they become deaf and dumb.” And a few sentences
further, she goes on: “It is not the planning man, the man of strategy, the man
acting on the resolution taken, who wins or loses a battle; battles are fought
and decided by men deprived of these faculties, men who have undergone a
transformation, who have dropped either to the level of inert nature, which is
pure passivity, or to the level of blind force, which is pure momentum. Herein lies
the last secret of war …”. And I wanted to add: and of much of what we else do
in life.
But isn’t this what Hannah Arendt has written down
later when she discussed the banality of evil and in fact holds the thesis that
what we do is determined to a large extent by the situation we are in? That we
are carried away by the dynamics of the situation we are in, which tends to
push away our individuality and our faculty of independent thought? Isn’t it
the same as what Philip Zimbardo experimentally demonstrated in the famous
“Stanford Prison Experiment”? That the situation often makes us do things we
would never have done if we would (and could) have taken time for reflection?
Reading “broadly” helps you see connections that you otherwise wouldn’t have
seen. It helps you also to come into touch with authors who are interesting as
such, irrespective of their wider meanings, like Simone Weil.
2 comments:
Hi Henk!
Interesting indeed. Finding connections among the different things I read is often a source of pleasure to me. Is it the pleasure of brain exercise? The pleasure if feeling we can get a deeper insight of the world and ourselves?
I'm leaving you these questions as a possible topic for a post :)
Thank you for your comment, Diana! I think that it's the pleasure of reading and getting new views and different views. Broad reading broadens your world, and, of course, gives a deeper insight in the world and yourself.
Well, maybe it can be the theme of a new post, indeed :) Thank you for the suggestion.
Henk
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