178352829X
9781783528295
B07Y3DKJB4
4.15
1,016
Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020
really liked it
In his Republic, Plato proposed that women were just as capable as men in leading his ideal city and should be chosen to work alongside men in governa
In his Republic, Plato proposed that women were just as capable as men in leading his ideal city and should be chosen to work alongside men in governance and philosophy. Throughout history women have proven this to be true yet their voices have often been dismissed, silenced, overshadowed, or ignored while men continuously take the spotlight. Edited by Rebecca Buxton and Lisa Whiting, The Philosopher Queens is a wonderful book that gives the unsung or overlooked women of philosophy a space to shine. Across 20 chapters each detailing a different woman from ancient antiquity to modern times with each biographical essay by a different writer, The Philosopher Queens offers a blissfully intelligent and accessible overview of the lives, works, and major ideas of each woman. From Diotima in 400 BCE through more recognizable names like Hannah Arendt, Simone de Beauvoir, Iris Murdoch, or overlooked thinkers like Mary Astell, Mary Astell, Sophie Bósèdé Olúwolé and more up to the present day, this is a great book that beautifully reshapes the idea of what a “philosopher” is and can be. Plus the artwork by Emmy Smith that accompanies it is outstanding.
[image]
Ban Zhao (left) & Hypatia
The editors do a marvelous job of bringing together an interesting variety of women and each of the individual essayists do well through their accessible overviews that discuss the advancements and achievements of these women without shying away from problematic aspects or controversial elements too. It is a rather empowering collection that highlights how women have been just as central to philosophical thought across history yet are often denied equal credit.
There are some wonderful essays in here such as Hypatia, of whom it was said was ‘a person so renowned her reputation seemed literally incredible,’ and several were completely new to me. Such as protofeminist author Mary Astell, who’s philosophical treatise A Serious Proposal to the Ladies appeared a century before A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Mary Wollstonecraft (who also gets a chapter in here), or bioethicist Anita L. Allen and Yoruba philosopher Sophie Bósèdé Olúwolé.
[image]
Left to right: Azizah Y. al-Hibri, Harriet Taylor Mill, Sophie Bósèdé Olúwolé
There is also a lot of really insightful looks at the ways these women have been pushed out of the spotlight or denied proper credit for their work. I found the chapter on Harriet Taylor Mill particularly interesting and how she has been unfairly overshadowed by her second husband, John Stuart Mill, ‘despite his best efforts to credit her work as inspirer, discussant, collaborator and co-author.’ Or there is Edith Stein, who’s work on On the Phenomenology of the Consciousness of Internal Time was disregarded and credited entirely to Edmund Husserl and editor Martin Heidegger. This all makes for a really fascinating book that covers a lot of history.
[image]
Mary Astell & Angela Davis
I would certainly recommend The Philosopher Queens to anyone as it is a really accessible and interesting overview of unsung thinkers that also does well to emphasize why women have been denied the same credit as men in academics. It was also fascinating to see how during WWII many women were able to make their work known as philosophers, particularly at Oxford where men were significantly absent due to the war. This is a great book and one I will certainly return to often.
4.5/5 ...more
[image]
Ban Zhao (left) & Hypatia
The editors do a marvelous job of bringing together an interesting variety of women and each of the individual essayists do well through their accessible overviews that discuss the advancements and achievements of these women without shying away from problematic aspects or controversial elements too. It is a rather empowering collection that highlights how women have been just as central to philosophical thought across history yet are often denied equal credit.
There are some wonderful essays in here such as Hypatia, of whom it was said was ‘a person so renowned her reputation seemed literally incredible,’ and several were completely new to me. Such as protofeminist author Mary Astell, who’s philosophical treatise A Serious Proposal to the Ladies appeared a century before A Vindication of the Rights of Women by Mary Wollstonecraft (who also gets a chapter in here), or bioethicist Anita L. Allen and Yoruba philosopher Sophie Bósèdé Olúwolé.
[image]
Left to right: Azizah Y. al-Hibri, Harriet Taylor Mill, Sophie Bósèdé Olúwolé
There is also a lot of really insightful looks at the ways these women have been pushed out of the spotlight or denied proper credit for their work. I found the chapter on Harriet Taylor Mill particularly interesting and how she has been unfairly overshadowed by her second husband, John Stuart Mill, ‘despite his best efforts to credit her work as inspirer, discussant, collaborator and co-author.’ Or there is Edith Stein, who’s work on On the Phenomenology of the Consciousness of Internal Time was disregarded and credited entirely to Edmund Husserl and editor Martin Heidegger. This all makes for a really fascinating book that covers a lot of history.
[image]
Mary Astell & Angela Davis
I would certainly recommend The Philosopher Queens to anyone as it is a really accessible and interesting overview of unsung thinkers that also does well to emphasize why women have been denied the same credit as men in academics. It was also fascinating to see how during WWII many women were able to make their work known as philosophers, particularly at Oxford where men were significantly absent due to the war. This is a great book and one I will certainly return to often.
4.5/5 ...more
Notes are private!
6
1
May 07, 2025
May 07, 2025
May 07, 2025
Kindle Edition
0231118953
9780231118958
0231118953
3.80
717
2000
Mar 15, 2002
really liked it
‘I say that I did it and I do not deny it,’ spoke Atigone, the titular character of Sophocles’s famous play. Antigone is a real one, defying the State
‘I say that I did it and I do not deny it,’ spoke Atigone, the titular character of Sophocles’s famous play. Antigone is a real one, defying the State in an act so subversive it triggers a familial catastrophe and full-blown political meltdown. And I thought my family dinners got awkward, and she wasn’t even drinking and didn’t have social media to talk petty shit (if she did you just know she’d already have been blocked by government officials and shadowbanned). While Antigone has a long tradition of literary and philosophical analysis as a ‘principle of feminine defiance of statism and an example of anti-authoritarianism,’ feminist and gender studies scholar Judith Butler’s Antigone’s Claim stikes out to expose what Butler see’s as misconceptions about Antigone, primarily with regard to the idea of family order in relationship to the State, to examine them through linguistic and semiotic approaches. It’s a short but slightly demanding read but though Butler is often considered “difficult” with robust arguments rife with intertextual references and a rich lexicon of academic terms,I didn’t find Antigone’s Claim to be overwhelmingly challenging and instead quite engaging. You won’t pull your hair out with this one but might google some terms and wonder how the hell you pronounce them ( Responding to the scholarship on Antigone from philosophers Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel and Jacques Lacan, Antigone’s Claim finds Butler confronting the heteronormative assumptions on kinship, gender roles, and the political significance of Antigone’s defiance for a rather interesting read. Come for the philosophy, stay for the wild family drama as kingdoms, former theories, and social constructs crumble.
‘[C]an Antigone herself be made into a representative for a certain kind of feminist politics, if Antigone’s own representative function is itself in crisis?’
I really enjoy the tale of Antigone and the many variations on the text, with Antigonick by classicist scholar Anne Carson and Kamila Shamsie’s Woman’s Prize winning Home Fire—a modern retelling between the family of a conservative British MP and the family with a father and brother amongst the Jihadists—to be some favorites. Judith Butler, best known for her groundbreaking works on gender such as Gender Trouble, turns her eye towards Antigone as an avenue to discuss how subversions of gender norms disrupt the traditional frameworks of analysis for Antigone as a figure and also to continue her critiques of Hegel (such as in another Butler book, The Psychic Life of Power: Theories in Subjection, as I have just learned). If someone was looking for a succinct or quotable one-liner about Butler’s conclusions one could hazard a statement to the effect that traditional values are arbitrary and unstable as Atigone deviates from social constructs of gender, though even that would lack the nuance of Butler’s arguments here and misses some of that rather excellent analysis on language. Butler looks at aspects of kinship, ideas of the State, and idea of law and symbolism which all ricochet off Hegel and Lacan like she’s throwing those big rubber balls at a carnival and their theories are the clowns she is gleefully knocking down. And I’m fairly sure she took out enough to win the big prize (which like…imagining a giant, stuffed Antigone doll hanging on the prizecave wall is weirdly in keeping with the story?).
‘Although not quite a queer heroine, Antigone does emblematize a certain heterosexual fatality that remains to be read.’
‘I am no classicist and do not strive to be one,’ Butler admits, yet she manages to pull off quite a thought-provoking examination that pulls Antigone into her wheelhouse of gender politics and that the rejection of gender binaries and analyzing the performance of gender roles finds former analysis to be wanting and stuck in outdated heteronormative assumptions. This is most evident in her discussion on how Antigone performing the burial rites is assuming a role granted only to men while also acting in defiance to a King in what can be seen as a form of emasculation particularly as her act forces his hand—’he expects that his word will govern her deeds, and she speaks back to him, countering his sovereign speech act by asserting her own sovereignty’—and thusly unsettles the political climate of Thebes. ‘She assumes manhood through vanquishing manhood, but she vanquishes it only by idealizing it,’ Butler writes:
But the idea of subverting gender norms and roles within the family—kinship—also extends to the notion of incest with Antigone’s mom also being her grandmother and all that jazz that Lacan makes a large part of his theories on law and social order. Antigone doesn’t just act as symbolic of a sister or a woman’s role in the family but also as a brother and a father role and just about any role except mother.
Butler says that this isn’t about Antigone representing “family values” and tradition but just that those values are arbitrary and well…kind of weird. ‘Antigone is one for whom symbolic positions have become incoherent’ Butler aruges and ‘where the symbolic in its stasis no longer holds’ because of this. ‘Hegel claims that Antigone represents the law of the household gods,’ with Creon as the symbol of law and State and ‘the conflict between them is one in which kinship must give way to state authority as the final arbiter of justice.’ Butler shows law as something rather arbitrary and only exists because it is enforced by violence except Antigone gets all Rage Against the Machine on Thebes, you know the one, yelling “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” and buries that dead brother against the wishes of law.
Another big element is the idea of the relationship between family and the State. In her reading of Hegel and Lacan, Butler says they see it as a clash between family and State and kinship against law. Hegel finds it to be an argument of the family but like, not the family arguing over who gets what in the will but the family arguing over who gets burial rites and who gets State execution.
Butler asks of kinship and State if ‘these very terms sustain their independence from one another,’ and determines that, no, they act upon each other. Burying the brother exposes a mutual dependence of kinship and State where Creon’s authority is due to the succession of kinship yet her defiance destabilizes the State’s claim of authority.
‘[Antigone] points somewhere else, not to politics as a question of representation but to that political possibility that emerges when the limits to representation and representability are exposed.’
My favorite aspect was that on language. Butler writes that ‘Creon and Antigone, are chiasmically related’ and that they both use similar language and Antigone’s linguistic structure matches that of the language used to show the sovereign State. Her response, ‘I say that I did it and I do not deny it,’ is a wonderfully ambiguous power move, being both a confession of resistance and a surrender. It’s the Greek myth version of ‘sorry, not sorry’ but also shows a paradox that even while defying Creon she is caught in the State structure she opposes.
It becomes a larger statement of Butler as a warning against the contemporary feminists that they cannot seek legitimacy through State power. Aligning oneself with State institutions causes you to be entangled in and upholding the hierarchies you are opposing. Basically, don’t think getting the State to recognize your platform will give you more freedom, probably just more paperwork and hassle and government entanglement. Such as right now where the US allowed people to use They/Them on passports and State IDs—I said the very last person I want to have a conversation with about being non-binary was a cop who would be the only person to ever see my ID and did not—are now being denied that these IDs are valid and must reapply or be unable to vote and who knows what other troubles being on a list of gender nonconforming individuals will lead to under a violent, transphobic and all around anti-LGBTQ+ administration. As Butler says, don’t trust the government to support your resistance or give you the tools to overthrow them.
‘My view is that the distinction between symbolic and social law cannot finally hold, that not only is the symbolic itself the sedimentation of social practices but that radical alterations in kinship demand a rearticulation of the structuralist presuppositions of psychoanalysis and, hence, of contemporary gender and sexual theory’
Antigone’s Claim from Judith Butler is a quick but heady read that throws a lot of theory around yet makes for a rather engaging argument. I enjoy how it becomes an expression on queer identities and gender politics and moves philosophical arguments into acknowledging gender nonconformity by establishing that heteronormative assumptions are a faulty base upon which to build a theory. Worth the read!
4/5
‘She acts, she speaks, she becomes one for whom the speech act is a fatal crime, but this fatality exceeds her life and enters the discourse of intelligibility as its own promising fatality, the social form of its aberrant, unprecedented future.’ ...more
‘[C]an Antigone herself be made into a representative for a certain kind of feminist politics, if Antigone’s own representative function is itself in crisis?’
I really enjoy the tale of Antigone and the many variations on the text, with Antigonick by classicist scholar Anne Carson and Kamila Shamsie’s Woman’s Prize winning Home Fire—a modern retelling between the family of a conservative British MP and the family with a father and brother amongst the Jihadists—to be some favorites. Judith Butler, best known for her groundbreaking works on gender such as Gender Trouble, turns her eye towards Antigone as an avenue to discuss how subversions of gender norms disrupt the traditional frameworks of analysis for Antigone as a figure and also to continue her critiques of Hegel (such as in another Butler book, The Psychic Life of Power: Theories in Subjection, as I have just learned). If someone was looking for a succinct or quotable one-liner about Butler’s conclusions one could hazard a statement to the effect that traditional values are arbitrary and unstable as Atigone deviates from social constructs of gender, though even that would lack the nuance of Butler’s arguments here and misses some of that rather excellent analysis on language. Butler looks at aspects of kinship, ideas of the State, and idea of law and symbolism which all ricochet off Hegel and Lacan like she’s throwing those big rubber balls at a carnival and their theories are the clowns she is gleefully knocking down. And I’m fairly sure she took out enough to win the big prize (which like…imagining a giant, stuffed Antigone doll hanging on the prize
‘Although not quite a queer heroine, Antigone does emblematize a certain heterosexual fatality that remains to be read.’
‘I am no classicist and do not strive to be one,’ Butler admits, yet she manages to pull off quite a thought-provoking examination that pulls Antigone into her wheelhouse of gender politics and that the rejection of gender binaries and analyzing the performance of gender roles finds former analysis to be wanting and stuck in outdated heteronormative assumptions. This is most evident in her discussion on how Antigone performing the burial rites is assuming a role granted only to men while also acting in defiance to a King in what can be seen as a form of emasculation particularly as her act forces his hand—’he expects that his word will govern her deeds, and she speaks back to him, countering his sovereign speech act by asserting her own sovereignty’—and thusly unsettles the political climate of Thebes. ‘She assumes manhood through vanquishing manhood, but she vanquishes it only by idealizing it,’ Butler writes:
‘In defying the state, she repeats as well the defiant act of her brother, thus offering a repetition of defiance that, in affirming her loyalty to her brother, situates her as the one who may substitute for him and, hence, replaces and territorializes him’
But the idea of subverting gender norms and roles within the family—kinship—also extends to the notion of incest with Antigone’s mom also being her grandmother and all that jazz that Lacan makes a large part of his theories on law and social order. Antigone doesn’t just act as symbolic of a sister or a woman’s role in the family but also as a brother and a father role and just about any role except mother.
‘[F]or Lacan, kinship is rarefied as enabling linguistic structure, a presupposition of symbolic intelligibility, and thus removed from the domain of the social; for Hegel, kinship is precisely a relation of “blood” rather than one of norms.That is, kinship is not yet entered into the social, where the social is inaugurated through a violent supersession of kinship.’
Butler says that this isn’t about Antigone representing “family values” and tradition but just that those values are arbitrary and well…kind of weird. ‘Antigone is one for whom symbolic positions have become incoherent’ Butler aruges and ‘where the symbolic in its stasis no longer holds’ because of this. ‘Hegel claims that Antigone represents the law of the household gods,’ with Creon as the symbol of law and State and ‘the conflict between them is one in which kinship must give way to state authority as the final arbiter of justice.’ Butler shows law as something rather arbitrary and only exists because it is enforced by violence except Antigone gets all Rage Against the Machine on Thebes, you know the one, yelling “fuck you I won’t do what you tell me” and buries that dead brother against the wishes of law.
Another big element is the idea of the relationship between family and the State. In her reading of Hegel and Lacan, Butler says they see it as a clash between family and State and kinship against law. Hegel finds it to be an argument of the family but like, not the family arguing over who gets what in the will but the family arguing over who gets burial rites and who gets State execution.
‘In Hegel, kinship is rigorously distinguished from the sphere of the state, though kinship is a precondition for the emergence and reproduction of the state apparatus. In Lacan, kinship, as a function of the symbolic, becomes rigorously dissociated from the sphere of the social, and yet it constitutes the structural field of intelligibility within which the social emerges. My reading of Antigone, in brief, will attempt to compel these distinctions into productive crisis.Antigone represents neither kinship nor its radical outside but becomes the occasion for a reading of a structurally constrained notion of kinship in terms of its social iterability, the aberrant temporality of the norm.’
Butler asks of kinship and State if ‘these very terms sustain their independence from one another,’ and determines that, no, they act upon each other. Burying the brother exposes a mutual dependence of kinship and State where Creon’s authority is due to the succession of kinship yet her defiance destabilizes the State’s claim of authority.
‘[Antigone] points somewhere else, not to politics as a question of representation but to that political possibility that emerges when the limits to representation and representability are exposed.’
My favorite aspect was that on language. Butler writes that ‘Creon and Antigone, are chiasmically related’ and that they both use similar language and Antigone’s linguistic structure matches that of the language used to show the sovereign State. Her response, ‘I say that I did it and I do not deny it,’ is a wonderfully ambiguous power move, being both a confession of resistance and a surrender. It’s the Greek myth version of ‘sorry, not sorry’ but also shows a paradox that even while defying Creon she is caught in the State structure she opposes.
It becomes a larger statement of Butler as a warning against the contemporary feminists that they cannot seek legitimacy through State power. Aligning oneself with State institutions causes you to be entangled in and upholding the hierarchies you are opposing. Basically, don’t think getting the State to recognize your platform will give you more freedom, probably just more paperwork and hassle and government entanglement. Such as right now where the US allowed people to use They/Them on passports and State IDs—I said the very last person I want to have a conversation with about being non-binary was a cop who would be the only person to ever see my ID and did not—are now being denied that these IDs are valid and must reapply or be unable to vote and who knows what other troubles being on a list of gender nonconforming individuals will lead to under a violent, transphobic and all around anti-LGBTQ+ administration. As Butler says, don’t trust the government to support your resistance or give you the tools to overthrow them.
‘My view is that the distinction between symbolic and social law cannot finally hold, that not only is the symbolic itself the sedimentation of social practices but that radical alterations in kinship demand a rearticulation of the structuralist presuppositions of psychoanalysis and, hence, of contemporary gender and sexual theory’
Antigone’s Claim from Judith Butler is a quick but heady read that throws a lot of theory around yet makes for a rather engaging argument. I enjoy how it becomes an expression on queer identities and gender politics and moves philosophical arguments into acknowledging gender nonconformity by establishing that heteronormative assumptions are a faulty base upon which to build a theory. Worth the read!
4/5
‘She acts, she speaks, she becomes one for whom the speech act is a fatal crime, but this fatality exceeds her life and enters the discourse of intelligibility as its own promising fatality, the social form of its aberrant, unprecedented future.’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
Apr 15, 2025
Apr 15, 2025
Apr 15, 2025
Paperback
0374532311
9780374532314
0374532311
4.36
13,203
Apr 01, 1977
Oct 12, 2010
really liked it
You ever fumble a real one? It’s okay, you can raise your hand. I’ve done it, we’ve all done it. Better to have loved and lost than never to have love
You ever fumble a real one? It’s okay, you can raise your hand. I’ve done it, we’ve all done it. Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all and all that shit, right? While many have tried to analyze love from our flirtatious frivolities to our foolhardy follies, Roland Barthes attempts to simulate love across the fragments of his A Lover’s Discourse. Hey, easy, I mean simulate the experience of being in love not simulating love making, pervs. Anyways, these 80 non-linear fragments have a narratorial approach that harnesses the complexities and chaos of love in a meditative way that transcends the singular into the universal to open a route towards assessing the emotional, psychological, abstract and linguistic components of being in love. That’s right: linguistic. Barthes is a philosopher and this is nerdy as hell. And I love it.
[image]
No, not romantically like the text is about but you get the idea. When Barthes writes his ‘language trembles with desire’ and these fragments are bound to send you careening down a cavern of memories—amorous, anxious, atrocious, etc. et al—to be emphatically nodding along or cringing in remembrance. Yet it is through the language that we begin to make sense of the tempest of emotions. ‘To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive.’ It is why love inspires poetry that shoots up through the stratosphere with emotion or the lack thereof can drop us in sharp descent of sorrow and destruction. He addresses the thematic elements of love like waiting, projection, and suffering as one becomes ‘engulfed’ by love and looks at struggles around power imbalances or that one may project an idealization over the actuality of the lover. Following through a dramatization of the entire arc of love as if effecting a dictionary of lover’s emotional states, A Lover’s Discourse makes for a riveting and thought provoking read teeming with emotion and epiphanic insight.
‘I encounter millions of bodies in my life; of these millions, I may desire some hundreds; but of these hundreds, I love only one.’
Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote ‘Love consists of this: two solitudes that meet, protect and greet each other.’ Across Barthe’s fragments, told in a jumble of internal monolugues not unlike the way our heart ricochettes between emotions in loves early onset, we find two solitudes that meet and begin the interplay of romance and entwining solitudes. But, as James Baldwin warns ‘Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.’ Once love is in grasp, it can often be the hardest to hold onto and Barthe’s traces the language of this through moments that hit hard and may bruise the reader when it kicks your memory in the shin. I’ve always felt love was not the easy moments, but the hard moments when you must pour love into the cracks to keep them from crumbling. That flaws are an opportunity to love harder. Or, as William Faulkner wrote ‘you don’t love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.’ Yet this book wouldn’t be of much value without plunging us into the despair of loss thrashing about the void of the lover’s absence under the ruins of love. Following each fragment, Barthes steps in to pummel it which philosophical investigation and shake it upside down until all the insights come tumbling from its pockets. He employs analytics from thinkers like Friedrich Nietzsche, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Sigmund Freud and others in explorations on time, identity and power.
‘First best is falling in love, second best is being in love. Least best is falling out of love. But any of it is better than never having been in love.’
—Maya Angelou
This book hits with wave after wave of poetic emotion. There are the highs: ‘I cannot get over having had this good fortune: to meet what matches my desire.’ But there are also the lows: ‘The lover's fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.’ It is a painful march towards romantic decay and much pain comes from not knowing how to properly love the other. In this we see Barthe’s first major conundrum around love with the lover projecting onto the beloved. It’s like when your friend has a crush and describes them as some mythical being who can do no wrong and you realize they perhaps love “the idea” of the person instead of the actual person, who inevitably contains foibles and flaws. ‘The subject suddenly realises that he is imprisoning the loved object in a net of tyrannies,’ sees the beloved as an idea that is not their true identity and is thereby loving something that does not exist. We must, as Robert Frost wrote, ‘love the things we love for what they are.’ And in projecting themself, upon discovering the foolishness of the projection and losing it, they in turn lose themselves.
Which is a real tragedy that, in love, when you lose yourself, you tend to lose your lover. ‘It is my desire I desire, and the loved being is no more than its tool,’ the subject realizes, and in this they also realize the lover has been objectified under their language.
‘I can do everything with my language but not with my body. What I hide by my language, my body utters. I can deliberately mold my message, not my voice. By my voice, whatever it says, the other will recognize "that something is wrong with me".’
Often one loses themself out of fear for losing the lover and we see Barthes’ subject strangle their relationship with jealousies and anxieties. It is an examination on how dependency functions and how an obsessive relation straps all sense of self worth into the dependency.
This sort of obsessive, jealous relationship reveals how it is a sense of wanting to possess the lover as opposed to authentically loving them. Barthes looks at how the language shows a ‘will-to-possess’ which is an erratic desire where ‘ the adult is superimposed upon the child,’ as in, it is a childlike behavior undertaken by adults engaged in adult interpersonal power imbalance. ‘Realising that the difficulties of the amorous relationship originate in his ceaseless desire to appropriate the loved being in one way or another, the subject decides to abandon henceforth all “will-to-possess” in his regard,’ he writes. The lover must abandon the desire to possess in order to be able to understand a fulfilling love, or love the object of their love. We’ve all seen this happen!
‘The imperfect is the tense of fascination: it seems to be alive and yet it doesn't move: imperfect presence, imperfect death; neither oblivion nor resurrection; simply the exhausting lure of memory.’
There is a constant struggle between possession and freedom, creating a power imbalance. But also that lovers must struggle for a balance with who waits, with vulnerability, dependency, etc. or an asymmetrical power structure in the relationship forms. Such a structure tends to break and plunge the subject into absence.
Barthes shows how in the absence of a lover (especially after an obsessive, jealous relationship) the subject is left in a void and shot through with psychological trauma to the extent that they contemplate suicide. They put their whole self into the relationship and without it, lack a self. ‘I cannot write myself. What, after all, is this "I" who would write himself?’ And here is where we can finally dive into the language of love.
‘Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other.’
Barthes doesn’t mean the 5 Love Languages (mine is Quality Time) but the actual language we use around love and what its linguistic qualities reveal. ‘The lover's discourse stifles the other, who finds no place for his own language beneath this massive utterance.’ As earlier the subject discovers they cannot ‘write myself’ without the other, he also bemoans the loss of loves language when love disintegrates. Language decays too:
The phone won’t ring with your lovers name anymore. You won’t hear your own name from their voice–at least not affectionately. The language of love is intrinsically linked to the lovers identity and the linguistics unravel along with love. Barthes also comments too on how often the phrase ‘I love you’ can seem like a ‘blank and meaningless statement’ as a factor of how language can destroy language when the term cannot actually touch upon the actuality of love.
‘Love has two affirmations. First of all, when the lover encounters the other, there is an immediate affirmation (psychologically: dazzlement, enthusiasm, exaltation, mad projection of a fulfilled future: I am devoured by desire, the impulse to be happy): I say yes to everything (blinding myself). There follows a long tunnel: my first yes is riddled by doubts, love’s value is ceaselessly threatened by depreciation: this is the moment of melancholy passion, the rising of resentment and oblation. Yet I can emerge from this tunnel; I can ‘surmount,’ without liquidating; what I have affirmed a first time, I can once again affirm, without repeating it, for then what I affirm is the affirmation, not its contingency. I affirm the first encounter in its difference, I desire its return, not its repetition. I say to the other (old or new): Let us begin again.’
Roland Barthes A Lover’s Discourse is a dense yet endlessly readable and accessible work bursting with emotion and insight. It may open a lot of old wounds, but by reading it you may also address the past with fresh eyes and, guided by his philosophical musings, put bad memories to rest, accept them, or heal from it. A bit slow and ponderous, feeling at times like a textbook on love and at others like the most emotive poetry you can imagine, A Lover’s Discourse is at all times profound and a very worthwhile read.
4.5/5
‘To be engulfed: outburst of annihilation which affects the amorous subject in despair or fulfillment. At its best, when it’s fulfillment, it’s a kind of disappearance at will. An easeful death. Death liberated from dying.’ ...more
[image]
No, not romantically like the text is about but you get the idea. When Barthes writes his ‘language trembles with desire’ and these fragments are bound to send you careening down a cavern of memories—amorous, anxious, atrocious, etc. et al—to be emphatically nodding along or cringing in remembrance. Yet it is through the language that we begin to make sense of the tempest of emotions. ‘To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive.’ It is why love inspires poetry that shoots up through the stratosphere with emotion or the lack thereof can drop us in sharp descent of sorrow and destruction. He addresses the thematic elements of love like waiting, projection, and suffering as one becomes ‘engulfed’ by love and looks at struggles around power imbalances or that one may project an idealization over the actuality of the lover. Following through a dramatization of the entire arc of love as if effecting a dictionary of lover’s emotional states, A Lover’s Discourse makes for a riveting and thought provoking read teeming with emotion and epiphanic insight.
‘I encounter millions of bodies in my life; of these millions, I may desire some hundreds; but of these hundreds, I love only one.’
Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote ‘Love consists of this: two solitudes that meet, protect and greet each other.’ Across Barthe’s fragments, told in a jumble of internal monolugues not unlike the way our heart ricochettes between emotions in loves early onset, we find two solitudes that meet and begin the interplay of romance and entwining solitudes. But, as James Baldwin warns ‘Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.’ Once love is in grasp, it can often be the hardest to hold onto and Barthe’s traces the language of this through moments that hit hard and may bruise the reader when it kicks your memory in the shin. I’ve always felt love was not the easy moments, but the hard moments when you must pour love into the cracks to keep them from crumbling. That flaws are an opportunity to love harder. Or, as William Faulkner wrote ‘you don’t love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.’ Yet this book wouldn’t be of much value without plunging us into the despair of loss thrashing about the void of the lover’s absence under the ruins of love. Following each fragment, Barthes steps in to pummel it which philosophical investigation and shake it upside down until all the insights come tumbling from its pockets. He employs analytics from thinkers like Friedrich Nietzsche, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Sigmund Freud and others in explorations on time, identity and power.
‘First best is falling in love, second best is being in love. Least best is falling out of love. But any of it is better than never having been in love.’
—Maya Angelou
This book hits with wave after wave of poetic emotion. There are the highs: ‘I cannot get over having had this good fortune: to meet what matches my desire.’ But there are also the lows: ‘The lover's fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.’ It is a painful march towards romantic decay and much pain comes from not knowing how to properly love the other. In this we see Barthe’s first major conundrum around love with the lover projecting onto the beloved. It’s like when your friend has a crush and describes them as some mythical being who can do no wrong and you realize they perhaps love “the idea” of the person instead of the actual person, who inevitably contains foibles and flaws. ‘The subject suddenly realises that he is imprisoning the loved object in a net of tyrannies,’ sees the beloved as an idea that is not their true identity and is thereby loving something that does not exist. We must, as Robert Frost wrote, ‘love the things we love for what they are.’ And in projecting themself, upon discovering the foolishness of the projection and losing it, they in turn lose themselves.
‘I have projected myself into the other with such power that when I am without the other I cannot recover myself, regain myself: I am lost, forever.’
Which is a real tragedy that, in love, when you lose yourself, you tend to lose your lover. ‘It is my desire I desire, and the loved being is no more than its tool,’ the subject realizes, and in this they also realize the lover has been objectified under their language.
‘I can do everything with my language but not with my body. What I hide by my language, my body utters. I can deliberately mold my message, not my voice. By my voice, whatever it says, the other will recognize "that something is wrong with me".’
Often one loses themself out of fear for losing the lover and we see Barthes’ subject strangle their relationship with jealousies and anxieties. It is an examination on how dependency functions and how an obsessive relation straps all sense of self worth into the dependency.
‘If I acknowledge my dependency, I do so because for me it is a means of signifying my demand: in the realm of love, futility is not a "weakness" or an "absurdity": it is a strong sign: the more futile, the more it signifies and the more it asserts itself as strength.’
This sort of obsessive, jealous relationship reveals how it is a sense of wanting to possess the lover as opposed to authentically loving them. Barthes looks at how the language shows a ‘will-to-possess’ which is an erratic desire where ‘ the adult is superimposed upon the child,’ as in, it is a childlike behavior undertaken by adults engaged in adult interpersonal power imbalance. ‘Realising that the difficulties of the amorous relationship originate in his ceaseless desire to appropriate the loved being in one way or another, the subject decides to abandon henceforth all “will-to-possess” in his regard,’ he writes. The lover must abandon the desire to possess in order to be able to understand a fulfilling love, or love the object of their love. We’ve all seen this happen!
‘The imperfect is the tense of fascination: it seems to be alive and yet it doesn't move: imperfect presence, imperfect death; neither oblivion nor resurrection; simply the exhausting lure of memory.’
There is a constant struggle between possession and freedom, creating a power imbalance. But also that lovers must struggle for a balance with who waits, with vulnerability, dependency, etc. or an asymmetrical power structure in the relationship forms. Such a structure tends to break and plunge the subject into absence.
‘Absence is the figure of privation; simultaneously, I desire and I need. Desire is squashed against need: that is the obsessive phenomenon of all amorous sentiment.’
Barthes shows how in the absence of a lover (especially after an obsessive, jealous relationship) the subject is left in a void and shot through with psychological trauma to the extent that they contemplate suicide. They put their whole self into the relationship and without it, lack a self. ‘I cannot write myself. What, after all, is this "I" who would write himself?’ And here is where we can finally dive into the language of love.
‘Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other.’
Barthes doesn’t mean the 5 Love Languages (mine is Quality Time) but the actual language we use around love and what its linguistic qualities reveal. ‘The lover's discourse stifles the other, who finds no place for his own language beneath this massive utterance.’ As earlier the subject discovers they cannot ‘write myself’ without the other, he also bemoans the loss of loves language when love disintegrates. Language decays too:
‘Isn’t the most sensitive point of this mourning the fact that I must lose a language — the amorous language? No more ‘I love you’s.’
The phone won’t ring with your lovers name anymore. You won’t hear your own name from their voice–at least not affectionately. The language of love is intrinsically linked to the lovers identity and the linguistics unravel along with love. Barthes also comments too on how often the phrase ‘I love you’ can seem like a ‘blank and meaningless statement’ as a factor of how language can destroy language when the term cannot actually touch upon the actuality of love.
‘Love has two affirmations. First of all, when the lover encounters the other, there is an immediate affirmation (psychologically: dazzlement, enthusiasm, exaltation, mad projection of a fulfilled future: I am devoured by desire, the impulse to be happy): I say yes to everything (blinding myself). There follows a long tunnel: my first yes is riddled by doubts, love’s value is ceaselessly threatened by depreciation: this is the moment of melancholy passion, the rising of resentment and oblation. Yet I can emerge from this tunnel; I can ‘surmount,’ without liquidating; what I have affirmed a first time, I can once again affirm, without repeating it, for then what I affirm is the affirmation, not its contingency. I affirm the first encounter in its difference, I desire its return, not its repetition. I say to the other (old or new): Let us begin again.’
Roland Barthes A Lover’s Discourse is a dense yet endlessly readable and accessible work bursting with emotion and insight. It may open a lot of old wounds, but by reading it you may also address the past with fresh eyes and, guided by his philosophical musings, put bad memories to rest, accept them, or heal from it. A bit slow and ponderous, feeling at times like a textbook on love and at others like the most emotive poetry you can imagine, A Lover’s Discourse is at all times profound and a very worthwhile read.
4.5/5
‘To be engulfed: outburst of annihilation which affects the amorous subject in despair or fulfillment. At its best, when it’s fulfillment, it’s a kind of disappearance at will. An easeful death. Death liberated from dying.’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025
Paperback
0308101332
9780308101333
0308101332
unknown
3.70
163
1971
Jan 01, 1974
liked it
There is a moment in Nikos Kazantzakis’s Symposium where he talks about a time when there wasn’t enough labor to go around where the concept of being
There is a moment in Nikos Kazantzakis’s Symposium where he talks about a time when there wasn’t enough labor to go around where the concept of being someone who just thought about things and talked about them, someone who tried to understand existence and teach it, was something you could do and be considered valid as a member of society. The time of the philosopher. Sounds great, really. A time to try and contemplate existence and not be shamed for not providing labor that makes some shitty rich dude richer. Alas. Anyways, this kind of slapped. A bunch of bros that once had wild aspirations meet up years later not having changed the world with their art or their might like they thought they would and…well, talk about being fuckin’ failures. They try to not get defensive (but they do) and they try to not be critical (oh they sure do) and talk about sucking at shit. As someone that sucks at shit, this hit home nicely.
...more
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1
not set
not set
Feb 22, 2025
Paperback
B0DV1B4SJ9
3.34
35
unknown
1936
really liked it
Franz Kafka was a masterful storyteller and his legacy lives on in justified infamy. While best known for his chilling tales of being caught up in a d
Franz Kafka was a masterful storyteller and his legacy lives on in justified infamy. While best known for his chilling tales of being caught up in a deadly web of paranoia, power, and the absurdity of bureaucratic complexities—so much so that the term ‘Kafkaesque’ has been readily employed across book blurbs—Kafka could also startle and seduce with succinct sublimity. The Top is one such story that could have been written on a postcard. Actually, imagine getting this story on a postcard. Maybe it is not signed and arrives contextless to your door. That would be alarming (okay, hear me out, what if I started sending this out on postcards to random addresses?). Maybe it comes signed by your friend Franz and you think “okay, should we check in on Franz?” Either way, you should take one minute out of your day to read this. Here it is in full as translated by Tania and James Stern.
The Top
A certain philosopher used to hang about wherever children were at play. And whenever he saw a boy with a top, he would lie in wait. As soon as the top began to spin the philosopher went in pursuit and tried to catch it. He was not perturbed when the children noisily protested and tried to keep him away from their toy; so long as he could catch the top while it was still spinning, he was happy, but only for a moment; then he threw it to the ground and walked away. For he believed that the understanding of any detail, that of a spinning top, for instance, was sufficient for the understanding of all things. For this reason he did not busy himself with great problems, it seemed to him uneconomical. Once the smallest detail was understood, then everything was understood, which was why he busied himself only with the spinning top. And whenever preparations were being made for the spinning of the top, he hoped that this time it would succeed: as soon as the top began to spin and he was running breathlessly after it, the hope would turn to certainty, but when he held the silly piece of wood in his hand, he felt nauseated. The screaming of the children, which hitherto he had not heard and which now suddenly pierced his ears, chased him away, and he tottered like a top under a clumsy whip.
Is this Flash Fiction before we gave it a term? Flash fiction tends to be considered under 1,500 words and this tops out at 241. There is a story arc in this paragraph, a philosopher loves to grab tops but as soon as his delight hits, it immediately drops into despair and he chucks it away. Yet he continues his pursuit of the tops. I’m sure many read this and think “uh, what?” but pause and think because theres a chance you’ve experienced this. How we can chase something we desire but, when we get it, it isn’t as satisfying as desiring it was. Buyers remorse some might call this (when I was a kid I swore that action figure would satisfy my life but then it could hardly even hold onto the lightsaber it came with… or that new album from a favorite band you’ve been reading about and loving the single finally comes out and it sucks… or maybe theres a video game you waited a year checking developments only for it to be terrible… or…). Or maybe you loved and lost because once the chase was over it there wasn’t much to talk about. Or maybe the pursuit of desire is what we actually desire. Ye olde maxim that the its the journey not the destination. As long as we are in pursuit, we taste hope sharp on our tongue.
The great Anne Carson has some thoughts on this tale concerning love. In her first book, Eros the Bittersweet, she looks at Kafka’s tale of spinning as the way love spins our hearts and minds:
The pursuit keeps hope alive in our heart, we have a horizon to chase. It’s sort of like the idea in horror that the monster you do not see is always more terrifying than the monster you do see because the mystery inspires the imagination to greater horrors than a solidified answer can give us. What will the dog do when they catch the car? It’s why we chase the things we enjoy, we love thinking about them, we love pursuing them and maybe our goals exist in order to chase them. As Carson say, perhaps ‘he has become a philosopher (that is, one whose profession is to delight in understanding) in order to furnish himself with pretexts for running after tops.’ And this is why I enjoy Kafka. We can ponder about the story longer than the space of the actual story and it will spin in our minds for far longer than the time it took to read. And in that pursuit of meaning, Kafka is alive again in our hearts and minds. And in that pursuit of meaning maybe we find meaning. ...more
The Top
A certain philosopher used to hang about wherever children were at play. And whenever he saw a boy with a top, he would lie in wait. As soon as the top began to spin the philosopher went in pursuit and tried to catch it. He was not perturbed when the children noisily protested and tried to keep him away from their toy; so long as he could catch the top while it was still spinning, he was happy, but only for a moment; then he threw it to the ground and walked away. For he believed that the understanding of any detail, that of a spinning top, for instance, was sufficient for the understanding of all things. For this reason he did not busy himself with great problems, it seemed to him uneconomical. Once the smallest detail was understood, then everything was understood, which was why he busied himself only with the spinning top. And whenever preparations were being made for the spinning of the top, he hoped that this time it would succeed: as soon as the top began to spin and he was running breathlessly after it, the hope would turn to certainty, but when he held the silly piece of wood in his hand, he felt nauseated. The screaming of the children, which hitherto he had not heard and which now suddenly pierced his ears, chased him away, and he tottered like a top under a clumsy whip.
Is this Flash Fiction before we gave it a term? Flash fiction tends to be considered under 1,500 words and this tops out at 241. There is a story arc in this paragraph, a philosopher loves to grab tops but as soon as his delight hits, it immediately drops into despair and he chucks it away. Yet he continues his pursuit of the tops. I’m sure many read this and think “uh, what?” but pause and think because theres a chance you’ve experienced this. How we can chase something we desire but, when we get it, it isn’t as satisfying as desiring it was. Buyers remorse some might call this (when I was a kid I swore that action figure would satisfy my life but then it could hardly even hold onto the lightsaber it came with… or that new album from a favorite band you’ve been reading about and loving the single finally comes out and it sucks… or maybe theres a video game you waited a year checking developments only for it to be terrible… or…). Or maybe you loved and lost because once the chase was over it there wasn’t much to talk about. Or maybe the pursuit of desire is what we actually desire. Ye olde maxim that the its the journey not the destination. As long as we are in pursuit, we taste hope sharp on our tongue.
The great Anne Carson has some thoughts on this tale concerning love. In her first book, Eros the Bittersweet, she looks at Kafka’s tale of spinning as the way love spins our hearts and minds:
‘The story concerns the reason why we love to fall in love. Beauty spins and the mind moves. To catch beauty would be to understand how that impertinent stability in vertigo is possible. But no, delight need not reach so far. To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope. But no, delight need not reach so far. To be running breathlessly, but not yet arrived, is itself delightful, a suspended moment of living hope.’
The pursuit keeps hope alive in our heart, we have a horizon to chase. It’s sort of like the idea in horror that the monster you do not see is always more terrifying than the monster you do see because the mystery inspires the imagination to greater horrors than a solidified answer can give us. What will the dog do when they catch the car? It’s why we chase the things we enjoy, we love thinking about them, we love pursuing them and maybe our goals exist in order to chase them. As Carson say, perhaps ‘he has become a philosopher (that is, one whose profession is to delight in understanding) in order to furnish himself with pretexts for running after tops.’ And this is why I enjoy Kafka. We can ponder about the story longer than the space of the actual story and it will spin in our minds for far longer than the time it took to read. And in that pursuit of meaning, Kafka is alive again in our hearts and minds. And in that pursuit of meaning maybe we find meaning. ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Feb 22, 2025
Unknown Binding
0399125930
9780399125935
0399125930
3.88
140,581
May 1981
May 06, 1981
really liked it
The Dune book which asks the important question: would you still love me if I was a worm?
And not just any worm–a giant, possibly immortal space work t The Dune book which asks the important question: would you still love me if I was a worm?
And not just any worm–a giant, possibly immortal space work that has now reigned humanity for 3,500 years as the titular God Emperor in Frank Herbert’s fourth installment of the Dune series, God Emperor of Dune. Leto II has wormed his way to the top and he’s going to make sure he stays there even if he has to oppress all of humanity for their own good. Part man, part worm, all power and a whole lot of speeches and existential crises, Leto’s conversations with those of his court become a narrative vessel for Herbert to dive further into the array of philosophical ideas that have driven the series. It's out with the action scenes and in with the lectures in this slow burn of a book, but it is enjoyable to see Herbert tackle big issues on power and manipulation that takes a long (emphasis on long) hard look at the notion that ‘the problem of leadership is inevitably: Who will play God?’ Well we have an omnipotent god figure already in play who finds himself beyond the morality of mortals, and he’s a worm so…would you still love him? Furthermore, should you still love him if he is your government? Herbert’s musings on personal agency in the face of fate to force meet his critiques of government here and asks us if humanity inherently perpetuates its own oppression by steering towards safety and allowing itself to be tamed by those who thirst for power. Dense, dark and with plenty of Duncan Idaho(s), God Emperor of Dune might not be the most exciting of the series but it does put the intentions of the series as a whole in a greater focus and is certainly a thought-provoking read.
‘It is difficult to live in the present, pointless to live in the future and impossible to live in the past.’
There is an epic weight of history that underpins God Emperor of Dune. Thousands of years have passed since the first novel, Paul has been long gone after some King Lear-esque violence, the planet has changed considerably and even Leto II is practically unrecognizable in his worm state. Yet, as he yearns to return to his humanity ("can they love me now that I'm a worm???") and finds ‘I feel the vanished parts of myself,’ so too does the reader feel the absence of the previous books in a way that binds them all together and instills a nostalgia in the reader. This is aided by Duncan Idaho who frequently returns us to the first novel through his presence as a chorus line of his ghoulas being killed and resurrected continuously return his consciousness to the point of his first death and draws a line for us to see just how far we’ve come in this series. And this long history is now under the control of Leto II as he manipulates all of humanity to shape a new history pressing into the future. As long as he stays out of the rain.
‘All of history is a malleable instrument in my hands. Ohhh, I have accumulated all of these pasts and I possess every fact—yet the facts are mine to use as I will and, even using them truthfully, I change them.’
This book is far more philosophical musings than plot, yet we see how the philosophy has always been the driving mechanism of the series. It plods along through speeches and conversations but, as Leto says ‘Duncan, I am a teacher. Remember that. By repetition, I impress the lesson,’ and Herbert has some lessons he wants to impart here. Sure, it can be a bit preachy, but it is always rather interesting and even though ‘the more I find out, the more I realize that I don't know what's going on,’ this might just be ‘ the way of wisdom,’ as Leto terms it. Most of these speeches are on governance, being told to us by an endless ruler over all who has some harsh thoughts about those who seek power while wielding it himself “for the good of everyone else”. Or at least thats how he sees it. It was given to him because they want him to rule them, its his destiny, he assumes.
We get a lot of hot takes on political manipulation and lines like ‘Religion suppresses curiosity,’ or “both sides are bad” angles like ‘Scratch a conservative and you find someone who prefers the past over any future. Scratch a liberal and find a closet aristocrat.’ that can often feel like you are getting talked down to by an exhausted, nearly retired history professor who wants to squash any idealism in his students and be so wise by showing how everyone else is wrong. He’s not wrong per say and if you want to chalk it up to cynicism it would be missing why it functions so well in the plot. This dude is a worm that misses humanity, he’s sad that people are caught in a cyclical history of oppression and just wants us to move forward upon the Golden Path.
‘Dangers lurk in all systems. Systems incorporate the unexamined beliefs of their creators. Adopt a system, accept its beliefs, and you help strengthen the resistance to change.’
There is a sense of alienation felt in Leto and his state of being nudges ideas on sacrifice and martyrdom and the old maxim about becoming the monster in order to fight it. But his ‘enforced tranquility’ of the populace also makes us grapple with the ethics of power and the subservience of a people to a single will, even if that will comes from a Nietzschean Übermensch who finds his status puts him ‘beyond good and evil’ when it comes to morality. These questions on morals and governance are at the heart of the series and despite the slog of a read, Herbert tears open the chest of the Dune series to show you this heart beating out each philosophical idea upon the page. Long and a bit of a chore at times, by the time I reached the final page it all felt worth it to stand back and admire the glorious scope of the series.
3.5/5
‘Although much sought after, truth can be dangerous to the seeker. Myths and reassuring lies are much easier to find and believe. If you find a truth, even a temporary one, it can demand that you make painful changes.’ ...more
And not just any worm–a giant, possibly immortal space work t The Dune book which asks the important question: would you still love me if I was a worm?
And not just any worm–a giant, possibly immortal space work that has now reigned humanity for 3,500 years as the titular God Emperor in Frank Herbert’s fourth installment of the Dune series, God Emperor of Dune. Leto II has wormed his way to the top and he’s going to make sure he stays there even if he has to oppress all of humanity for their own good. Part man, part worm, all power and a whole lot of speeches and existential crises, Leto’s conversations with those of his court become a narrative vessel for Herbert to dive further into the array of philosophical ideas that have driven the series. It's out with the action scenes and in with the lectures in this slow burn of a book, but it is enjoyable to see Herbert tackle big issues on power and manipulation that takes a long (emphasis on long) hard look at the notion that ‘the problem of leadership is inevitably: Who will play God?’ Well we have an omnipotent god figure already in play who finds himself beyond the morality of mortals, and he’s a worm so…would you still love him? Furthermore, should you still love him if he is your government? Herbert’s musings on personal agency in the face of fate to force meet his critiques of government here and asks us if humanity inherently perpetuates its own oppression by steering towards safety and allowing itself to be tamed by those who thirst for power. Dense, dark and with plenty of Duncan Idaho(s), God Emperor of Dune might not be the most exciting of the series but it does put the intentions of the series as a whole in a greater focus and is certainly a thought-provoking read.
‘It is difficult to live in the present, pointless to live in the future and impossible to live in the past.’
There is an epic weight of history that underpins God Emperor of Dune. Thousands of years have passed since the first novel, Paul has been long gone after some King Lear-esque violence, the planet has changed considerably and even Leto II is practically unrecognizable in his worm state. Yet, as he yearns to return to his humanity ("can they love me now that I'm a worm???") and finds ‘I feel the vanished parts of myself,’ so too does the reader feel the absence of the previous books in a way that binds them all together and instills a nostalgia in the reader. This is aided by Duncan Idaho who frequently returns us to the first novel through his presence as a chorus line of his ghoulas being killed and resurrected continuously return his consciousness to the point of his first death and draws a line for us to see just how far we’ve come in this series. And this long history is now under the control of Leto II as he manipulates all of humanity to shape a new history pressing into the future. As long as he stays out of the rain.
‘All of history is a malleable instrument in my hands. Ohhh, I have accumulated all of these pasts and I possess every fact—yet the facts are mine to use as I will and, even using them truthfully, I change them.’
This book is far more philosophical musings than plot, yet we see how the philosophy has always been the driving mechanism of the series. It plods along through speeches and conversations but, as Leto says ‘Duncan, I am a teacher. Remember that. By repetition, I impress the lesson,’ and Herbert has some lessons he wants to impart here. Sure, it can be a bit preachy, but it is always rather interesting and even though ‘the more I find out, the more I realize that I don't know what's going on,’ this might just be ‘ the way of wisdom,’ as Leto terms it. Most of these speeches are on governance, being told to us by an endless ruler over all who has some harsh thoughts about those who seek power while wielding it himself “for the good of everyone else”. Or at least thats how he sees it. It was given to him because they want him to rule them, its his destiny, he assumes.
‘Most civilisation is based on cowardice. It's so easy to civilize by teaching cowardice. You water down the standards which would lead to bravery. You restrain the will. You regulate the appetites. You fence in the horizons. You make a law for every movement. You deny the existence of chaos. You teach even the children to breathe slowly. You tame.’
We get a lot of hot takes on political manipulation and lines like ‘Religion suppresses curiosity,’ or “both sides are bad” angles like ‘Scratch a conservative and you find someone who prefers the past over any future. Scratch a liberal and find a closet aristocrat.’ that can often feel like you are getting talked down to by an exhausted, nearly retired history professor who wants to squash any idealism in his students and be so wise by showing how everyone else is wrong. He’s not wrong per say and if you want to chalk it up to cynicism it would be missing why it functions so well in the plot. This dude is a worm that misses humanity, he’s sad that people are caught in a cyclical history of oppression and just wants us to move forward upon the Golden Path.
‘Dangers lurk in all systems. Systems incorporate the unexamined beliefs of their creators. Adopt a system, accept its beliefs, and you help strengthen the resistance to change.’
There is a sense of alienation felt in Leto and his state of being nudges ideas on sacrifice and martyrdom and the old maxim about becoming the monster in order to fight it. But his ‘enforced tranquility’ of the populace also makes us grapple with the ethics of power and the subservience of a people to a single will, even if that will comes from a Nietzschean Übermensch who finds his status puts him ‘beyond good and evil’ when it comes to morality. These questions on morals and governance are at the heart of the series and despite the slog of a read, Herbert tears open the chest of the Dune series to show you this heart beating out each philosophical idea upon the page. Long and a bit of a chore at times, by the time I reached the final page it all felt worth it to stand back and admire the glorious scope of the series.
3.5/5
‘Although much sought after, truth can be dangerous to the seeker. Myths and reassuring lies are much easier to find and believe. If you find a truth, even a temporary one, it can demand that you make painful changes.’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Dec 17, 2024
Hardcover
0525564454
9780525564454
0525564454
4.18
85,429
Oct 1942
Nov 06, 2018
it was amazing
One could imagine Sisyphus happier if maybe he had a sticker chart on the side of the boulder and got a cute animal or smiley face sticker to put on i
One could imagine Sisyphus happier if maybe he had a sticker chart on the side of the boulder and got a cute animal or smiley face sticker to put on it each time he made it to the top of the hill and after completing a row of stickers he could redeem them for a soda or maybe a small toy next time his parents went to the grocery store.
See, look how happy he is:
[image] ...more
See, look how happy he is:
[image] ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Sep 26, 2024
Paperback
132400309X
9781324003090
132400309X
4.21
349
Sep 01, 2020
Sep 01, 2020
really liked it
As with any major idea or movement, feminism is a term that has broad reaching definitions that often vary based on person to person. ‘Feminism has a
As with any major idea or movement, feminism is a term that has broad reaching definitions that often vary based on person to person. ‘Feminism has a PR problem,’ writes Carol Hay in her book Think Like a Feminist, and much of that surrounds the nature of feminism that has been intentionally obfuscated by detractors and well-meaning misconceptions alike in a world where the malleable term is most often assessed in terms of its marketability and co-opted in order to protect the status quo. Drawing on the long history of feminist theory in order to synthesize it into productive arguments, Hay’s book aims to provide an academic grounding in an accessible manner while looking at its applications in the world around us. ‘The feminist movement is messy, rife with internal disputes and contradictions, and as carried as the women it represents,’ Hay states, and Think Like a Feminist does an excellent job at harmonizing the various strands of ideology for a well-rounded depiction of feminism. Hay’s early chapters which focus on the various metaphors for oppression and the popularized stereotypes employed to undermine feminism are particularly engaging and enlightening, with the later portions on sexual violence, allyship towards trans people and progressive steps forward being well argued and instilled with a wealth of insight from a wide range of thinkers across history. While it may be a bit repetitive for those who have a previous background into the philosophy, Think Like a Feminist helps harmonize various theories and present a larger, systemic portrait an general primer text that we should all internalize and strive to bring to fruition in order to mold a more humane and productive society for all.
As with any book that hopes to encompass the varieties of a broad-sweeping movement, there will inevitably be a lot of generalizations and, regrettably, aspects that are left out. Disability, for instance, is briefly addressed though never really touched upon. There can be a lot to nit-pick here, though the act has never had much appeal to me and I’ll leave that for others better versed in criticisms because a large part of what Hay’s gets at is how in-fighting and overall nit-picking tends to detract from the aims of the movement as a whole and reduce arguments to individual levels of ad hominem critiques that inevitably distract away from the larger social ills. She aims for a more general synthesis and, on that level, this book does make an excellent primer while, admittedly, one would still of course have better grounding were they to read all the texts she analyzes or quotes. But on the whole, the aim is to attempt to unify various ideas and look for commonalities:
Which isn’t to say Hay avoids critiques and one thing I found this does well is show how various waves of feminism have updated and critiqued previous thinkers. In discussing Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique, for instance, she cites author and activist bell hooks’s criticisms that Friedan ‘was pretending that white women’s experiences of oppression are even close to as bad as it can get.’ This is along with plenty of insight into the works of other Black feminists such as Audre Lorde, and intersectionality with queer theory, to help show how feminist thought has shaped itself across the years. There is a great wealth of philosophical insight in Think Like a Feminist, drawing on the works of cornerstones of feminist theory like Mary Wollstonecraft, Simone de Beauvoir or more modern writers like Susan Bordo or Kate Manne in conversation with other social theories from people as varied as Ludwig Wittenstein, Kimberlé Crenshaw W.E.B. Du Bois, Karl Marx, Michel Foucault and more. It isn’t a perfect book, though it is a good step forward especially for those looking for a primer and I would of course recommend continuing to read the works of those mentioned as well as books like Angela Y. Davis's Abolition. Feminism. Now. among the many others.
‘It’s no coincidence that the Angry Feminist and the Girl Power Feminist get so much cultural uptake…each caricature manages to defang feminism of its radical potential.’
An aspect I really enjoyed in Think Like a Feminist were the ways Hay shows how feminism is often co-opted or intentionally misdirected in order to subvert it. She touches on ideas of internalized objectification and oppression as well as, what Andrea Dworkin states as a barrier to feminist action that ‘many women resist feminism because it is an agony to be fully conscious of the brutal misogyny which permeates culture, society, and all personal relationships.’ This is an idea addressed by Simone de Beauvoir as well in The Second Sex ‘explaining why women had not collectively resisted their oppression…because to do otherwise would be to renounce the few advantages they do get from their oppressive relationships with men’ which is why she discusses why social changes, particularly financial reform, must occur (women couldn’t own property or bank accounts previously, for instance). But in order to ensure the status quo is not harmed by feminist progress, feminists have been negatively stereotyped with negative socal images to dissuade people from listening. The first of these stereotypes about feminism that May discusses: the “Angry Feminist.”
Angry Feminists, Hay explains, are viewed as ‘a bunch of irrationally angry bra-burning’ feminists who ‘elevate man-hating to an art form.’ It is a stereotype imposed on feminists by in order to present them as ‘a caricature we don’t need to take seriously’ by making feminists seem ‘aggressively unpleasant.’ It’s the sort of idea of feminism that men with an aim at blatant misogyny love to highlight, such as televangelist Pat Robertson claiming feminism as a movement that ‘encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.’ The issue with this stereotype is it attacks a rather useful tool: legitimate anger. Audre Lorde recalls a woman at a conference telling here ‘tell me how you feel but don’t say it too harshly or I cannot hear you,’ which is a sort of tone policing often employed to avoid the actual conversation, dismissing ideas by dismissing the person. ‘We live in a world where women are trained to make nice,’ Hay says, and nothing upsets the status quo more than a woman who is angry but anger can be a useful tool (for more on this read Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women's Anger by Soraya Chemaly) but it is also used against women. As Audre Lorde writes ‘for women raised to fear, too often anger threatens annihilation.’ And so the stereotype is pushed to discredit in a way that:
For a good book on how aging and and being childless or angry is used against women I recommend Mona Chollet’s In Defense of Witches. However, by reducing feminists to this stereotype, it turns it into a false aim of passing judgment on what women and men do on an individual level instead of the real focus ‘on the social structures that constrain women’s options in the first place.’ and to pose it as feminists trying to ‘threatens to rob women of what little power we have in a status quo that exists by and for the benefit of men.’ Which was Beauvoir’s concern all along. She looks at feminists like Catharine A. MacKinnon who have been dismissed in this way and ‘used as whipping girls by too many feminist critics who don’t appreciate just how influential and sophisticated their analysis has been.’ While, yes, critiquing thinkers is valid, we can’t allow ourselves to become so overly concerned with the imperfections of an individual to the extent that it overrides the ideas of a whole movement. But also, perhaps more importantly, the ridicule of women for being “angry” underlines the fact that men are scared and should be and that’s why there is such a rally to discredit women. Such as the faux outrage criticizing the #MeToo movement of “going too far” despite scant meaningful consequences befalling men due to the movement and even moments such as the sentencing of Weinstein, which was hopefully validating for his many victims, did little to deconstruct the social and economic systems that enabled his behavior.
But there is another stereotype she examines, that of the Girl Power Feminist. Note that it is “girl” and not “women,” a clear indication of its infantilization. Girl Power Feminists, as Hay explains, are ‘sexy, feisty without being off-putting, and fundamentally unthreating. She’s confident without being pushy. She proclaims her independence but promises not to do anything too radical with it.’ It is mostly surface with ‘unflective sex positivity’ that ‘makes inroads by reassuring straight men’ that their ‘unrestricted sexual access to women and right to get laid [...] isn’t on the chopping block.’ But biggest of all it is ‘marketing gold’ that ‘claims a victory every time a woman makes it in a man’s world’ without the awareness of how this still centers the world as belonging to men and does nothing to confront the predatory capitalist drives that are inherently damaging but instead embraces capitalism ‘hocking self-help platitudes’ that do nothing beyond ‘reassuring everyone that the status quo won’t be interrupted in any significant way.’ What Hay is concerned about with this stereotype is essentially Beauvoir’s own fears because ‘if feminism is just Girl Power, then we don’t need to look at the larger social structures that undergird individual women’s choices.’ What we get instead is a product readymade for t-shirts and pay-per-click blogs that becomes branding instead of a movement, not unlike the way Eat the Rich IPAs or viral tweets about guillotines only serve the financial gain of a company or to be an edgy but empty aesthetic and little to disrupt the system it postures as opposing.
‘The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.’
—Audre Lorde
From here Hay lays out various metaphors on oppression to look at why there are stereotypes to distract from the social ills and transform it into vague individual aesthetics instead of social movements. There is the “birdcage” metaphor, that, like a cage, each small aspect of society is a single bar that isn’t individually threatening but all combine to form a cage restricting women. There is also the “invisible knapsack” which includes the burdens each group of women are asked to carry which cis, men do not. Or the “intersection” metaphor on how there are various intersections of identity that can compound oppression, such as the concept of misogynoir that Black women face both sexism and racism. There is also the idea of the “panopticon” metaphor, which is rooted in Foucault’s idea of the prison that women will police one another and themselves in order to hope for a place within patriarchy. As Sandra Bartky writes:
These all work well to further understand the various ways women face oppression in society, though later she expands into the necessity to organize with trans women and criticizes anti-trans feminists, or TERFs. ‘There’s a common enemy we need to unite against,’ she writes.
‘Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.’
—Margaret Atwood
While some of Hay’s history on misogyny is a bit light and streamlined (Kate Manne's Down Girl is an excellent read for this), there is a rather effective section on sexual violence and how that is an aspect of patriarchy that objectifies women. Pornography and the laws around it get a rather incisive treatment here as a reminder as the role they play in objectifying and dehumanizing women. The idea that men use the immoral actions of specific men to grant them a better character is an idea expressed by Susan Brownmiller as the “Male Protection Racket” and Hay points out how legitimate fear of sexual violence is often used against women in the form of the ‘innocuous Nice Guy.’ This is a person who is able to ‘enjoy the warm and fuzzy psychological and social rewards bestowed on those deemed to be of upstanding character’ and use it as a position of power, hence how they often ‘bemoan the injustice of being “friend-zoned”’ as if access to sex and a woman’s body in the standard. Hay addresses men specifically:
There are many ways where men, she points out, do not have aspects of the self counted against them. She encourages men to be more aware of patriarchal privileges and to consider women’s perspectives in interactions. In this way she shows how feminism is something for everyone, not just women. She does, however, point out that the argument made that it should be called “humanism” is disingenuous because it assumes an equality that is currently missing in society.
It’s all good teachings we should take forward, and she discusses how passing along productive ideas around feminism to the next generations is key. ‘This isn’t just an issue that concerns our daughters,’ she writes, ‘we need to change the ways we talk to boys too.’ She discusses the idea of gender roles as a socially coached construct pointing out, ‘in many ways, we police gender-nonconformity in boys far more rigidly than we do in girls.’ There is some excellent discussion on gender here, using Judith Butler’s theories on gender as something that combines performance and cultural implications but is not necessarily synonymous. It also nudges concepts of trans identity here as well.
Think Like a Feminist is by no means perfect, but it is an excellent primer that synthesizes a wide range of thought and sets it towards productive action. While the section on future actions is a bit light, its all still well grounded in historical theory and presented in an accessible manner. It is a good source for further reading and ideas and is a valuable little book in the scope of the feminist movement. ...more
As with any book that hopes to encompass the varieties of a broad-sweeping movement, there will inevitably be a lot of generalizations and, regrettably, aspects that are left out. Disability, for instance, is briefly addressed though never really touched upon. There can be a lot to nit-pick here, though the act has never had much appeal to me and I’ll leave that for others better versed in criticisms because a large part of what Hay’s gets at is how in-fighting and overall nit-picking tends to detract from the aims of the movement as a whole and reduce arguments to individual levels of ad hominem critiques that inevitably distract away from the larger social ills. She aims for a more general synthesis and, on that level, this book does make an excellent primer while, admittedly, one would still of course have better grounding were they to read all the texts she analyzes or quotes. But on the whole, the aim is to attempt to unify various ideas and look for commonalities:
‘Honestly, if you were to ask ten feminists to define feminism you'd probably get eleven different answers. There are a few core things that we do agree about, though. First, feminists agree that women have been, and continue to be, disadvantaged relative to men...Second, feminists agree that these disadvantages are bad things that can and should be changed. And third, we agree that these disadvantages are interrelated, that they're the result of mutually supporting systems of privilege and deprivation that are structurally embedded in virtually every aspect of society and that systematically function to screw women over.’
Which isn’t to say Hay avoids critiques and one thing I found this does well is show how various waves of feminism have updated and critiqued previous thinkers. In discussing Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique, for instance, she cites author and activist bell hooks’s criticisms that Friedan ‘was pretending that white women’s experiences of oppression are even close to as bad as it can get.’ This is along with plenty of insight into the works of other Black feminists such as Audre Lorde, and intersectionality with queer theory, to help show how feminist thought has shaped itself across the years. There is a great wealth of philosophical insight in Think Like a Feminist, drawing on the works of cornerstones of feminist theory like Mary Wollstonecraft, Simone de Beauvoir or more modern writers like Susan Bordo or Kate Manne in conversation with other social theories from people as varied as Ludwig Wittenstein, Kimberlé Crenshaw W.E.B. Du Bois, Karl Marx, Michel Foucault and more. It isn’t a perfect book, though it is a good step forward especially for those looking for a primer and I would of course recommend continuing to read the works of those mentioned as well as books like Angela Y. Davis's Abolition. Feminism. Now. among the many others.
‘It’s no coincidence that the Angry Feminist and the Girl Power Feminist get so much cultural uptake…each caricature manages to defang feminism of its radical potential.’
An aspect I really enjoyed in Think Like a Feminist were the ways Hay shows how feminism is often co-opted or intentionally misdirected in order to subvert it. She touches on ideas of internalized objectification and oppression as well as, what Andrea Dworkin states as a barrier to feminist action that ‘many women resist feminism because it is an agony to be fully conscious of the brutal misogyny which permeates culture, society, and all personal relationships.’ This is an idea addressed by Simone de Beauvoir as well in The Second Sex ‘explaining why women had not collectively resisted their oppression…because to do otherwise would be to renounce the few advantages they do get from their oppressive relationships with men’ which is why she discusses why social changes, particularly financial reform, must occur (women couldn’t own property or bank accounts previously, for instance). But in order to ensure the status quo is not harmed by feminist progress, feminists have been negatively stereotyped with negative socal images to dissuade people from listening. The first of these stereotypes about feminism that May discusses: the “Angry Feminist.”
Angry Feminists, Hay explains, are viewed as ‘a bunch of irrationally angry bra-burning’ feminists who ‘elevate man-hating to an art form.’ It is a stereotype imposed on feminists by in order to present them as ‘a caricature we don’t need to take seriously’ by making feminists seem ‘aggressively unpleasant.’ It’s the sort of idea of feminism that men with an aim at blatant misogyny love to highlight, such as televangelist Pat Robertson claiming feminism as a movement that ‘encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.’ The issue with this stereotype is it attacks a rather useful tool: legitimate anger. Audre Lorde recalls a woman at a conference telling here ‘tell me how you feel but don’t say it too harshly or I cannot hear you,’ which is a sort of tone policing often employed to avoid the actual conversation, dismissing ideas by dismissing the person. ‘We live in a world where women are trained to make nice,’ Hay says, and nothing upsets the status quo more than a woman who is angry but anger can be a useful tool (for more on this read Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women's Anger by Soraya Chemaly) but it is also used against women. As Audre Lorde writes ‘for women raised to fear, too often anger threatens annihilation.’ And so the stereotype is pushed to discredit in a way that:
‘spins women’s well-founded anger over legitimate grievances into the age-old spector of the irrational hag whose wailings needn’t be taken seriously.’
For a good book on how aging and and being childless or angry is used against women I recommend Mona Chollet’s In Defense of Witches. However, by reducing feminists to this stereotype, it turns it into a false aim of passing judgment on what women and men do on an individual level instead of the real focus ‘on the social structures that constrain women’s options in the first place.’ and to pose it as feminists trying to ‘threatens to rob women of what little power we have in a status quo that exists by and for the benefit of men.’ Which was Beauvoir’s concern all along. She looks at feminists like Catharine A. MacKinnon who have been dismissed in this way and ‘used as whipping girls by too many feminist critics who don’t appreciate just how influential and sophisticated their analysis has been.’ While, yes, critiquing thinkers is valid, we can’t allow ourselves to become so overly concerned with the imperfections of an individual to the extent that it overrides the ideas of a whole movement. But also, perhaps more importantly, the ridicule of women for being “angry” underlines the fact that men are scared and should be and that’s why there is such a rally to discredit women. Such as the faux outrage criticizing the #MeToo movement of “going too far” despite scant meaningful consequences befalling men due to the movement and even moments such as the sentencing of Weinstein, which was hopefully validating for his many victims, did little to deconstruct the social and economic systems that enabled his behavior.
But there is another stereotype she examines, that of the Girl Power Feminist. Note that it is “girl” and not “women,” a clear indication of its infantilization. Girl Power Feminists, as Hay explains, are ‘sexy, feisty without being off-putting, and fundamentally unthreating. She’s confident without being pushy. She proclaims her independence but promises not to do anything too radical with it.’ It is mostly surface with ‘unflective sex positivity’ that ‘makes inroads by reassuring straight men’ that their ‘unrestricted sexual access to women and right to get laid [...] isn’t on the chopping block.’ But biggest of all it is ‘marketing gold’ that ‘claims a victory every time a woman makes it in a man’s world’ without the awareness of how this still centers the world as belonging to men and does nothing to confront the predatory capitalist drives that are inherently damaging but instead embraces capitalism ‘hocking self-help platitudes’ that do nothing beyond ‘reassuring everyone that the status quo won’t be interrupted in any significant way.’ What Hay is concerned about with this stereotype is essentially Beauvoir’s own fears because ‘if feminism is just Girl Power, then we don’t need to look at the larger social structures that undergird individual women’s choices.’ What we get instead is a product readymade for t-shirts and pay-per-click blogs that becomes branding instead of a movement, not unlike the way Eat the Rich IPAs or viral tweets about guillotines only serve the financial gain of a company or to be an edgy but empty aesthetic and little to disrupt the system it postures as opposing.
‘The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.’
—Audre Lorde
From here Hay lays out various metaphors on oppression to look at why there are stereotypes to distract from the social ills and transform it into vague individual aesthetics instead of social movements. There is the “birdcage” metaphor, that, like a cage, each small aspect of society is a single bar that isn’t individually threatening but all combine to form a cage restricting women. There is also the “invisible knapsack” which includes the burdens each group of women are asked to carry which cis, men do not. Or the “intersection” metaphor on how there are various intersections of identity that can compound oppression, such as the concept of misogynoir that Black women face both sexism and racism. There is also the idea of the “panopticon” metaphor, which is rooted in Foucault’s idea of the prison that women will police one another and themselves in order to hope for a place within patriarchy. As Sandra Bartky writes:
‘In contemporary patriarchal culture, a panoptical male connoisseur resides within the consciousness of most women: They stand perpetually before his gaze and under his judgement. Woman lives her body as seen by another, by an anonymous patriarchal Other.’
These all work well to further understand the various ways women face oppression in society, though later she expands into the necessity to organize with trans women and criticizes anti-trans feminists, or TERFs. ‘There’s a common enemy we need to unite against,’ she writes.
‘Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.’
—Margaret Atwood
While some of Hay’s history on misogyny is a bit light and streamlined (Kate Manne's Down Girl is an excellent read for this), there is a rather effective section on sexual violence and how that is an aspect of patriarchy that objectifies women. Pornography and the laws around it get a rather incisive treatment here as a reminder as the role they play in objectifying and dehumanizing women. The idea that men use the immoral actions of specific men to grant them a better character is an idea expressed by Susan Brownmiller as the “Male Protection Racket” and Hay points out how legitimate fear of sexual violence is often used against women in the form of the ‘innocuous Nice Guy.’ This is a person who is able to ‘enjoy the warm and fuzzy psychological and social rewards bestowed on those deemed to be of upstanding character’ and use it as a position of power, hence how they often ‘bemoan the injustice of being “friend-zoned”’ as if access to sex and a woman’s body in the standard. Hay addresses men specifically:
‘What we do need is men who are willing to fight patriarchy; men who are willing to consider giving up privileges they’ve received strictly because of their gender; men who don’t think that relinquishing this unearned privilege is an injustice.’
There are many ways where men, she points out, do not have aspects of the self counted against them. She encourages men to be more aware of patriarchal privileges and to consider women’s perspectives in interactions. In this way she shows how feminism is something for everyone, not just women. She does, however, point out that the argument made that it should be called “humanism” is disingenuous because it assumes an equality that is currently missing in society.
It’s all good teachings we should take forward, and she discusses how passing along productive ideas around feminism to the next generations is key. ‘This isn’t just an issue that concerns our daughters,’ she writes, ‘we need to change the ways we talk to boys too.’ She discusses the idea of gender roles as a socially coached construct pointing out, ‘in many ways, we police gender-nonconformity in boys far more rigidly than we do in girls.’ There is some excellent discussion on gender here, using Judith Butler’s theories on gender as something that combines performance and cultural implications but is not necessarily synonymous. It also nudges concepts of trans identity here as well.
Think Like a Feminist is by no means perfect, but it is an excellent primer that synthesizes a wide range of thought and sets it towards productive action. While the section on future actions is a bit light, its all still well grounded in historical theory and presented in an accessible manner. It is a good source for further reading and ideas and is a valuable little book in the scope of the feminist movement. ...more
Notes are private!
1
Jul 07, 2024
Jul 07, 2024
Jul 07, 2024
Hardcover
0300115466
9780300115468
0300115466
3.98
44,466
1946
Jul 24, 2007
really liked it
‘There is no reality except in action’
Speaking of action, I’ve got some happening book action for you. Check this: taken from his lecture at Club Mai ‘There is no reality except in action’
Speaking of action, I’ve got some happening book action for you. Check this: taken from his lecture at Club Maintenant in Paris, in 1945, Existentialism is a Humanism is Jean-Paul Sartre’s rather succinct expressions of existentialism through a rebuttal of criticisms and an effort to examine key notions of his work such as ‘existence precedes essence.’ Sounds great, right? Get ready for a riveting read my friends! To tell the truth, I can’t help but imagine Sartre’s lectures as how he was satirically portrayed in Mood Indigo (Michel Gondry’s film adaptation of Boris Vian’s Froth on the Daydream):
[image]
Jean-Sol Partre, as he is named in the film, delivers his lecture above adoring fans standing in a smoker’s pipe that moves about the room, everyone hollering like are attending a rock concert as another character scrambles to take notes yelling that the lecture is difficult but worthwhile. I regret to inform you this book is not quite that level of uproarious excitement, but it is still a fascinating and highly intelligent analysis of a rather freeing and optimistic philosophy. ‘[N]o doctrine is more optimistic, since it declares that man’s destiny lies within himself.’ See? If you are looking for great introductory texts to French Existentialism, put this in your pipe and smoke it because it is an apt selection (Simone de Beauvoir’s What is Existentialism? as well). And get your pens ready to underline because I left nary a page unmarked as Sartre has such noteworthy, snappy phrasing (though neurobiologist Steven Rose would argue that Sartre’s writing was ‘more an exercise in political sloganeering than a sustainable philosophical position,’ in his book Lifelines: Biology, Freedom, Determinism) and the book is delivered in a rather welcoming and accessible approach (other than when he’s kind of a pompous ass, but in a cool way?). Unpopular book aesthetic opinion but, yes, I underline books and I write in the margins. I also dog ear them. I can hear some of you shrieking but, personally, I like the practice for when I need some quotes to write (like now) and I think it makes books look all edgy and kind of punk. It’s like you are getting your books tattooed. They’re taking a deep drag off a cigarette and saying in a throaty voice “yea I look rough but it’s because I’ve been loved--love hurts but it makes it all worthwhile.” and you are like woah reign it in a little bit, my friend, but I follow ya I think. Sartre would say you’re actions towards love are what you want to see in all humans and the meaning you have ascribed to life, so already we’ve learned a lesson from this book. Good work us, lets see what other treasure troves of knowledge we can discover! [insert bass-heavy show theme and a cartoon dog saying “Brought to you by PBS!”]
‘Man is not only that which he conceives himself to be, but that which he wills himself to be, and since he conceives of himself only after he exists, just as he wills himself to be after being thrown into existence, man is nothing other than what he makes of himself.’
You didn’t just scroll by that quote did you? Go back, read it again like it’s the first time. Pretty great stuff, and according to Sartre ‘that is the first principle of existentialism.’ We are learning up a storm in here. So what Sartre really wants to impress upon us is that people define meaning for themselves through their actions, which they are fully responsible for, and that through our action we also define the world. This is the idea that ‘existence precedes essence,’ which means that ‘man first exists’ by coming into the world, encountering themself and then thusly defining themself. To help illustrate, Sartre proposes we imagine a paper knife. Cool man, not a dated reference at all (think “letter opener” if you are struggling). He says that when it is built, it is made around with preconceived ideas of how it will be used, or that ‘production precedes essence.’ Humans, he argues, are the opposite. We ‘exist first,’ that we start fresh and blank and define ourselves through actions. Existentialists reject the idea of people being like a paper knife with god as ‘the artisan’, and following Friedrich Nietzsche stating that ‘god is dead,’ we have to consider the idea of an absence of god. Sartre splits existentialists up between two group, Christian existentialists (he cites Karl Jaspers and Gabriel Marcel) and atheist existentialsts, which he says includes Martin Heidegger and himself.
We need to pause a moment because it’s important to note that Heidegger was not into Sartre writing this and did not want to be labeled an existentialist under Sartre’s definition of one. You may have heard about Camus refusing the categorization for his own varied reasons, but Heidegger often not being considered was actually news to me. He didn’t mind Sartre referring to him as an atheist, but rejected the label of existentialist under Sartre’s depiction of it. While both philosophers addressed the concept of Being, a very basic difference is how Heidegger questioned the meaning of Being, whereas Sartre examined different ways of Being in the world. There are many other differences, such as Heidegger argued life exists in a wholeness because of death, which allows for meaning, while Sartre thought this put too much emphasis on death and saw it instead as the endpoint to our ability to give meaning into our lives. About this book, Heidegger said he thinks Sartre ‘stays with metaphysics in oblivion of the truth of Being’ Anyways, where were we? Oh yes, atheist existentialists:
Sartre discusses how existentialism removes any universal code that applies a definite meaning and in its place ‘Man is nothing else but that which he makes of himself.’ We exist ‘only to the extent that he realizes himself, therefore he is nothing more than the sum of his actions, nothing more than his life.’ We are what we do, what we become, and there is no external force or invisible eternal being dictating this in Sartre’s eyes. But this isn’t strictly a dismissal of the possibility of god but merely that ‘if God were to exist, it would make no difference,’ and belief in a god or not is irrelevant when the issue is that people must discover themselves and nobody can save them but themselves. So where Jean-Paul would tell us that we are defined by actions, Jean-Luc would tell us to “make it so.”
‘It is a doctrine of action,and it is only in bad faith—in confusing their own despair with ours—that Christians are able to assert that we are “without hope.”’
Sartre dispels the common criticisms levied at existentialism as a pessimistic philosophy, arguing that it is the critics who are the true pessimists. He argues that claims existentialism discourages people from actions and only focuses on the darker parts of life is intentionally misunderstanding that ‘only hope resides’ in the actions of an existentialist as it is action creating all meaning. He also refutes that the philosophy rejects responsibility for humanity, saying existentialism is a commitment that each person is ‘responsible for myself and for everyone else,’ that in ‘choosing myself, I choose man’ because when we choose our actions we choose what believe good and believe that reflects what is good for humanity. I see what he’s getting at here, and it’s not my favorite of his points. This will later be important in his discussion on choosing actions that support freedom and freedom for everyone, which I believe Beauvoir does a much better and more detailed discourse on in The Ethics of Ambiguity. More on this in a bit.
‘We seek to base our doctrine on truth, not on comforting theories full of hope but without any real foundation.’
Still with me? Still learning? Because now we get some key terms! Sartre launches into a discussion on three terms and his definitions for them: anguish, abandonment, and despair. I know, I told you this was an optimistic philosophy but hold on, let’s see what he means by them.
Here is his definition for anguish :
We were basically just talking about this, but now with the emphasis on responsibility that what we choose as our actions should be what we believe would be what everyone should also be choosing. He briefly discusses the issue of actions such as Abraham in the Bible via Søren Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling and that just because Abraham heard a voice, it was his responsibility because he chose to listen when that voice could have also been a demon or hallucination. We have to own up to our actions, basically, and all actions are our interpretations of symbols and events, but ultimately our choice.
Next is abandonment which Sartre explains ‘we merely mean to say that God does not exist, and that we must bear the full consequences of that assertion,’ and that it is ‘we, ourselves, who decide who we are to be.’ Basically everything we’ve been discussing. He cites Fyodor Dostoevsky’s famous line from the The Brothers Karamazov ‘if God is dead, everything is permitted,’ and calls it a starting point of philosophy, though personally I much prefer Beauvoir’s arguments against this asserting life is not a nihilistic free-for-all and existentialism can, in fact, provide an ethic for positive and productive living.
Finally we reach despair. Don’t get too excited. Despair means we have to reckon with only what depends on our will. ‘When Descartes said ‘Conquer yourself rather than the world’, what he meant was, at bottom, the same – that we should act without hope.’ Which sounds bleak but basically he’s saying we cant rely on anything outside our control but that this shouldn’t cause us to abandon action because there is no reality except in action.
‘Life is nothing until it is lived.’
One of my favorite discussions in this book, however, is his metaphor of a person like a painting, or ‘that moral choice is like constructing a work of art.’ We can’t judge a painting before it has begun or even before it is finished, we don’t know what it is yet to be, and the act of painting is like our actions that define us. ‘We are in the same creative situation.’ he says. ‘What are and morality have in common is creation and invention’ I also enjoy his assertions on how we are ‘obliged to will the freedom of others at the same time as I will my own. I cannot set my own freedom as a goal without also setting the freedom of others as a goal.’ Those who do not will the freedom of others are acting in bad faith (this comes up a lot, and he argues we can judge people who act in bad faith). Though, as I said earlier, this is better addressed in The Ethics of Ambiguity and I would encourage any of you to read that.
But finally we reach why he believes existentialism is a humanism, a ‘existential humanism.’ Here’s what he means by that:
He argues this is different than a definition that all humankind is inherently valuable, and that this is cultish and that because ‘man is constantly in the making,’ there is no defined ‘humankind.’ His definition is that people act towards goals and values outside themselves in order to make something meaningful out of their existence in relation to the world. He calls this humanism because ‘the only universe that exists is…the universe of human subjectivity.’
This is an interesting book and a really nice primer for both Sartre’s philosophies and existentialism itself, though I would encourage anyone to also read more than just this as each philosopher had different opinions and often disagreed with each other (there is a great Q&A session in this book that offers some discussions and Sartre getting flustered). I like a lot of what he says, I wish he didn’t gender everything as man, but it was the times and translator, thats what it is. I also quite enjoyed his essay on Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which he says is a great representation of the absurd and is a comical book, as well as compares the writing style to Ernest Hemingway. This is a nice volume with a lot of big ideas to grapple with, though it is a rather accessible introductory book and will make for a nice cozy evening of existentialism. Because it’s about to be Hot Existentialist Summer, you’ve been warned.
⅘
‘This is what I mean when I say that man is condemned to be free: condemned, because he did not create himself, yet nonetheless free, because once cast into the world, he is responsible for everything that he does.’ ...more
Speaking of action, I’ve got some happening book action for you. Check this: taken from his lecture at Club Mai ‘There is no reality except in action’
Speaking of action, I’ve got some happening book action for you. Check this: taken from his lecture at Club Maintenant in Paris, in 1945, Existentialism is a Humanism is Jean-Paul Sartre’s rather succinct expressions of existentialism through a rebuttal of criticisms and an effort to examine key notions of his work such as ‘existence precedes essence.’ Sounds great, right? Get ready for a riveting read my friends! To tell the truth, I can’t help but imagine Sartre’s lectures as how he was satirically portrayed in Mood Indigo (Michel Gondry’s film adaptation of Boris Vian’s Froth on the Daydream):
[image]
Jean-Sol Partre, as he is named in the film, delivers his lecture above adoring fans standing in a smoker’s pipe that moves about the room, everyone hollering like are attending a rock concert as another character scrambles to take notes yelling that the lecture is difficult but worthwhile. I regret to inform you this book is not quite that level of uproarious excitement, but it is still a fascinating and highly intelligent analysis of a rather freeing and optimistic philosophy. ‘[N]o doctrine is more optimistic, since it declares that man’s destiny lies within himself.’ See? If you are looking for great introductory texts to French Existentialism, put this in your pipe and smoke it because it is an apt selection (Simone de Beauvoir’s What is Existentialism? as well). And get your pens ready to underline because I left nary a page unmarked as Sartre has such noteworthy, snappy phrasing (though neurobiologist Steven Rose would argue that Sartre’s writing was ‘more an exercise in political sloganeering than a sustainable philosophical position,’ in his book Lifelines: Biology, Freedom, Determinism) and the book is delivered in a rather welcoming and accessible approach (other than when he’s kind of a pompous ass, but in a cool way?). Unpopular book aesthetic opinion but, yes, I underline books and I write in the margins. I also dog ear them. I can hear some of you shrieking but, personally, I like the practice for when I need some quotes to write (like now) and I think it makes books look all edgy and kind of punk. It’s like you are getting your books tattooed. They’re taking a deep drag off a cigarette and saying in a throaty voice “yea I look rough but it’s because I’ve been loved--love hurts but it makes it all worthwhile.” and you are like woah reign it in a little bit, my friend, but I follow ya I think. Sartre would say you’re actions towards love are what you want to see in all humans and the meaning you have ascribed to life, so already we’ve learned a lesson from this book. Good work us, lets see what other treasure troves of knowledge we can discover! [insert bass-heavy show theme and a cartoon dog saying “Brought to you by PBS!”]
‘Man is not only that which he conceives himself to be, but that which he wills himself to be, and since he conceives of himself only after he exists, just as he wills himself to be after being thrown into existence, man is nothing other than what he makes of himself.’
You didn’t just scroll by that quote did you? Go back, read it again like it’s the first time. Pretty great stuff, and according to Sartre ‘that is the first principle of existentialism.’ We are learning up a storm in here. So what Sartre really wants to impress upon us is that people define meaning for themselves through their actions, which they are fully responsible for, and that through our action we also define the world. This is the idea that ‘existence precedes essence,’ which means that ‘man first exists’ by coming into the world, encountering themself and then thusly defining themself. To help illustrate, Sartre proposes we imagine a paper knife. Cool man, not a dated reference at all (think “letter opener” if you are struggling). He says that when it is built, it is made around with preconceived ideas of how it will be used, or that ‘production precedes essence.’ Humans, he argues, are the opposite. We ‘exist first,’ that we start fresh and blank and define ourselves through actions. Existentialists reject the idea of people being like a paper knife with god as ‘the artisan’, and following Friedrich Nietzsche stating that ‘god is dead,’ we have to consider the idea of an absence of god. Sartre splits existentialists up between two group, Christian existentialists (he cites Karl Jaspers and Gabriel Marcel) and atheist existentialsts, which he says includes Martin Heidegger and himself.
We need to pause a moment because it’s important to note that Heidegger was not into Sartre writing this and did not want to be labeled an existentialist under Sartre’s definition of one. You may have heard about Camus refusing the categorization for his own varied reasons, but Heidegger often not being considered was actually news to me. He didn’t mind Sartre referring to him as an atheist, but rejected the label of existentialist under Sartre’s depiction of it. While both philosophers addressed the concept of Being, a very basic difference is how Heidegger questioned the meaning of Being, whereas Sartre examined different ways of Being in the world. There are many other differences, such as Heidegger argued life exists in a wholeness because of death, which allows for meaning, while Sartre thought this put too much emphasis on death and saw it instead as the endpoint to our ability to give meaning into our lives. About this book, Heidegger said he thinks Sartre ‘stays with metaphysics in oblivion of the truth of Being’ Anyways, where were we? Oh yes, atheist existentialists:
‘Atheistic existentialism, of which I am a representative, declares with greater consistency that if God does not exist there is at least one being whose existence comes before its essence, a being which exists before it can be defined by any conception of it. .... He will not be anything until later, and then he will be what he makes of himself…If God does not exist, are we provided with any values or commands that could legitimize our behavior.’
Sartre discusses how existentialism removes any universal code that applies a definite meaning and in its place ‘Man is nothing else but that which he makes of himself.’ We exist ‘only to the extent that he realizes himself, therefore he is nothing more than the sum of his actions, nothing more than his life.’ We are what we do, what we become, and there is no external force or invisible eternal being dictating this in Sartre’s eyes. But this isn’t strictly a dismissal of the possibility of god but merely that ‘if God were to exist, it would make no difference,’ and belief in a god or not is irrelevant when the issue is that people must discover themselves and nobody can save them but themselves. So where Jean-Paul would tell us that we are defined by actions, Jean-Luc would tell us to “make it so.”
‘It is a doctrine of action,and it is only in bad faith—in confusing their own despair with ours—that Christians are able to assert that we are “without hope.”’
Sartre dispels the common criticisms levied at existentialism as a pessimistic philosophy, arguing that it is the critics who are the true pessimists. He argues that claims existentialism discourages people from actions and only focuses on the darker parts of life is intentionally misunderstanding that ‘only hope resides’ in the actions of an existentialist as it is action creating all meaning. He also refutes that the philosophy rejects responsibility for humanity, saying existentialism is a commitment that each person is ‘responsible for myself and for everyone else,’ that in ‘choosing myself, I choose man’ because when we choose our actions we choose what believe good and believe that reflects what is good for humanity. I see what he’s getting at here, and it’s not my favorite of his points. This will later be important in his discussion on choosing actions that support freedom and freedom for everyone, which I believe Beauvoir does a much better and more detailed discourse on in The Ethics of Ambiguity. More on this in a bit.
‘We seek to base our doctrine on truth, not on comforting theories full of hope but without any real foundation.’
Still with me? Still learning? Because now we get some key terms! Sartre launches into a discussion on three terms and his definitions for them: anguish, abandonment, and despair. I know, I told you this was an optimistic philosophy but hold on, let’s see what he means by them.
Here is his definition for anguish :
‘a man who commits himself, and who realizes that he is not only the individual that he chooses to be, but also a legislator choosing at the same time what humanity as a whole should be, cannot help but be aware of his own full and profound responsibility’
We were basically just talking about this, but now with the emphasis on responsibility that what we choose as our actions should be what we believe would be what everyone should also be choosing. He briefly discusses the issue of actions such as Abraham in the Bible via Søren Kierkegaard’s Fear and Trembling and that just because Abraham heard a voice, it was his responsibility because he chose to listen when that voice could have also been a demon or hallucination. We have to own up to our actions, basically, and all actions are our interpretations of symbols and events, but ultimately our choice.
Next is abandonment which Sartre explains ‘we merely mean to say that God does not exist, and that we must bear the full consequences of that assertion,’ and that it is ‘we, ourselves, who decide who we are to be.’ Basically everything we’ve been discussing. He cites Fyodor Dostoevsky’s famous line from the The Brothers Karamazov ‘if God is dead, everything is permitted,’ and calls it a starting point of philosophy, though personally I much prefer Beauvoir’s arguments against this asserting life is not a nihilistic free-for-all and existentialism can, in fact, provide an ethic for positive and productive living.
Finally we reach despair. Don’t get too excited. Despair means we have to reckon with only what depends on our will. ‘When Descartes said ‘Conquer yourself rather than the world’, what he meant was, at bottom, the same – that we should act without hope.’ Which sounds bleak but basically he’s saying we cant rely on anything outside our control but that this shouldn’t cause us to abandon action because there is no reality except in action.
‘Life is nothing until it is lived.’
One of my favorite discussions in this book, however, is his metaphor of a person like a painting, or ‘that moral choice is like constructing a work of art.’ We can’t judge a painting before it has begun or even before it is finished, we don’t know what it is yet to be, and the act of painting is like our actions that define us. ‘We are in the same creative situation.’ he says. ‘What are and morality have in common is creation and invention’ I also enjoy his assertions on how we are ‘obliged to will the freedom of others at the same time as I will my own. I cannot set my own freedom as a goal without also setting the freedom of others as a goal.’ Those who do not will the freedom of others are acting in bad faith (this comes up a lot, and he argues we can judge people who act in bad faith). Though, as I said earlier, this is better addressed in The Ethics of Ambiguity and I would encourage any of you to read that.
But finally we reach why he believes existentialism is a humanism, a ‘existential humanism.’ Here’s what he means by that:
‘This is humanism because we remind man that there is no legislator other than himself and that he must, in his abandoned state, make his own choices, and also because we show that it is not by turning inward, but by constantly seeking a goal outside of himself in the form of liberation, or of some special achievement, that man will realize himself as truly human.
He argues this is different than a definition that all humankind is inherently valuable, and that this is cultish and that because ‘man is constantly in the making,’ there is no defined ‘humankind.’ His definition is that people act towards goals and values outside themselves in order to make something meaningful out of their existence in relation to the world. He calls this humanism because ‘the only universe that exists is…the universe of human subjectivity.’
This is an interesting book and a really nice primer for both Sartre’s philosophies and existentialism itself, though I would encourage anyone to also read more than just this as each philosopher had different opinions and often disagreed with each other (there is a great Q&A session in this book that offers some discussions and Sartre getting flustered). I like a lot of what he says, I wish he didn’t gender everything as man, but it was the times and translator, thats what it is. I also quite enjoyed his essay on Albert Camus’ The Stranger, which he says is a great representation of the absurd and is a comical book, as well as compares the writing style to Ernest Hemingway. This is a nice volume with a lot of big ideas to grapple with, though it is a rather accessible introductory book and will make for a nice cozy evening of existentialism. Because it’s about to be Hot Existentialist Summer, you’ve been warned.
⅘
‘This is what I mean when I say that man is condemned to be free: condemned, because he did not create himself, yet nonetheless free, because once cast into the world, he is responsible for everything that he does.’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
Apr 28, 2023
Apr 28, 2023
Apr 28, 2023
Paperback
B00GGW0NGW
4.11
3,645
1971
Dec 03, 2013
I can still hear the uproar of my university classroom on an early spring evening about a month before our Professor would suddenly vanish forever. We
I can still hear the uproar of my university classroom on an early spring evening about a month before our Professor would suddenly vanish forever. We had just asked our her who her favorite philosopher was, and after a few laughed disclaimers she finally said the name: Martin Heidegger. There weren’t many of us, maybe a dozen, and almost entirely insufferable artsy dudes in our flannel shirts and emo haircuts though in my memory we were all mostly a faceless mass revolving around our professor like she was our sun, a sun who at this moment was parrying our complaints that she simply could not pick Heidegger. He was a Nazi, for one, he was practically unreadable, and he slept with all his students for another. Though that another of her favorites was Hannah Arendt seemed to help elucidate why she would have an affinity with Heidegger’s philosophy. The professor gave it back to us: maybe if we had the capacity to understand him we’d like him better, and a conversation about separating art from the artist ensued. Poetry, she said, his writing on poetry and, of course, his important additions to the discourse on language.
It was Existentialism, a 400 level class, and I think every one of us was in love with our professor so I can promise I wasn’t the only one who went out and bought this book. She must have been in her late thirties and what I recall most was her enthusiasm for life because the class structure very quickly faded away along with the winter and just became more discussions on life with all of us reading the same texts outside of class. And music. On the first day of class she played us the music video for Bright Eyes - At the Bottom of Everything and had us discuss it in the realm of existentialism. I was thrilled, having long been a Bright Eyes fan at that point, and even the initial groans from classmates faded when it became clear she loved Bright Eyes. Had a classmate previously hated them, that moment transformed them into a fan. Like I said, we were all in love with her. Even the queer ones of us, of which there were a few of us, and became a topic we got to discuss really openly and securely in her class, which at the time felt very radical. Shoutout to the brave student who used the conversation on bad faith and the authentic self to approach the topic. To tease us, she had a framed photo of Heidegger she kept on her desk with a lipstick kiss on the glass. Fine, I made that lipstick part up, though it's certainly better this way. Rather a romanticized visual to focus the imagery than the grumpy face of a third Reich supporter.
When she realized we were all over 21 we began assembling at the bar just across from campus, a few of us arriving before her, most of us staying much after her and eventually meeting up for drinks or to play music outside of “class.” But she was the structure, we all came to hear her talk about her ideas on life and love. She had met someone, she hinted. A man who lived in France and had a kid, so certainly uprooting his life to be with her in this midwest college town was out of the question. Go there, we’d tell her. But don’t bring your Heidegger photo.
Spring break came and went, and we didn’t get an email to meet at the bar as usual so we shuffled back into the classroom where our lessons were supposed to have been taking place. It was a big building with many floors, and I always found a slight humor that the top floor was the philosophy department as I had this cliched image of all philosophy majors being heavy smokers and trying to look like Camus. Which wasn’t far off the mark for all of us in that class. But as we wheezed into our seats we noticed a new face standing at the head of the class. A young man, bleached blonde hair like a Sugar Rey music video, nervously nodding and smiling. Where is she, we said like a chorus. She would not be returning, we were told. Chaos ensued. What? Why? When? How? Was she in trouble? The teacher, at that point, didn’t know and was so dosed with a cocktail of nervousness and excitement taking over his first college lecture he probably hadn’t even bothered to ask. We ended up really liking him, and a very structured class resumed. I wrote a paper on No Exit by Sartre I’ve always been particularly proud of, but Heidegger never came up again.
A few weeks later we got an email. Sorry for the sudden disappearance, she wrote to us. And something about following her heart. Attached was a photo of her and a very studious looking older man beneath the Eiffel Tower.
I can’t see the name Heidegger without thinking about this story. This woman who had a classroom wrapped around her finger, most likely having a rough period of mental health but instead of spiraling, she turned it into a corkscrew roll and ascended to follow her heart. I don’t know what happened after that but I’d like to think it has been a lovely life. A life like poetry, which was what she loved about Heidegger to begin with. Fuck the Nazis, and honestly fuck Heidegger for having been one, but I have come to understand how his writings on language and poetry are still important in the progress of thought on phenomenology and do enjoy reading his works on language. In a way, the professor successfully separated the art from the artist for us all, fully admitting all his faults but also through association with that class we watched a lovely story of an existential crisis that had a happy ending to forever associate with the name. ...more
It was Existentialism, a 400 level class, and I think every one of us was in love with our professor so I can promise I wasn’t the only one who went out and bought this book. She must have been in her late thirties and what I recall most was her enthusiasm for life because the class structure very quickly faded away along with the winter and just became more discussions on life with all of us reading the same texts outside of class. And music. On the first day of class she played us the music video for Bright Eyes - At the Bottom of Everything and had us discuss it in the realm of existentialism. I was thrilled, having long been a Bright Eyes fan at that point, and even the initial groans from classmates faded when it became clear she loved Bright Eyes. Had a classmate previously hated them, that moment transformed them into a fan. Like I said, we were all in love with her. Even the queer ones of us, of which there were a few of us, and became a topic we got to discuss really openly and securely in her class, which at the time felt very radical. Shoutout to the brave student who used the conversation on bad faith and the authentic self to approach the topic. To tease us, she had a framed photo of Heidegger she kept on her desk with a lipstick kiss on the glass. Fine, I made that lipstick part up, though it's certainly better this way. Rather a romanticized visual to focus the imagery than the grumpy face of a third Reich supporter.
When she realized we were all over 21 we began assembling at the bar just across from campus, a few of us arriving before her, most of us staying much after her and eventually meeting up for drinks or to play music outside of “class.” But she was the structure, we all came to hear her talk about her ideas on life and love. She had met someone, she hinted. A man who lived in France and had a kid, so certainly uprooting his life to be with her in this midwest college town was out of the question. Go there, we’d tell her. But don’t bring your Heidegger photo.
Spring break came and went, and we didn’t get an email to meet at the bar as usual so we shuffled back into the classroom where our lessons were supposed to have been taking place. It was a big building with many floors, and I always found a slight humor that the top floor was the philosophy department as I had this cliched image of all philosophy majors being heavy smokers and trying to look like Camus. Which wasn’t far off the mark for all of us in that class. But as we wheezed into our seats we noticed a new face standing at the head of the class. A young man, bleached blonde hair like a Sugar Rey music video, nervously nodding and smiling. Where is she, we said like a chorus. She would not be returning, we were told. Chaos ensued. What? Why? When? How? Was she in trouble? The teacher, at that point, didn’t know and was so dosed with a cocktail of nervousness and excitement taking over his first college lecture he probably hadn’t even bothered to ask. We ended up really liking him, and a very structured class resumed. I wrote a paper on No Exit by Sartre I’ve always been particularly proud of, but Heidegger never came up again.
A few weeks later we got an email. Sorry for the sudden disappearance, she wrote to us. And something about following her heart. Attached was a photo of her and a very studious looking older man beneath the Eiffel Tower.
I can’t see the name Heidegger without thinking about this story. This woman who had a classroom wrapped around her finger, most likely having a rough period of mental health but instead of spiraling, she turned it into a corkscrew roll and ascended to follow her heart. I don’t know what happened after that but I’d like to think it has been a lovely life. A life like poetry, which was what she loved about Heidegger to begin with. Fuck the Nazis, and honestly fuck Heidegger for having been one, but I have come to understand how his writings on language and poetry are still important in the progress of thought on phenomenology and do enjoy reading his works on language. In a way, the professor successfully separated the art from the artist for us all, fully admitting all his faults but also through association with that class we watched a lovely story of an existential crisis that had a happy ending to forever associate with the name. ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Apr 21, 2023
Paperback
0241475236
9780241475232
0241475236
3.91
1,379
1944
Jun 08, 2021
really liked it
‘Life in itself is neither good nor evil; it is the scene of good or evil as you make it.’
Michel de Montaigne
When I was a kid I always assumed we’d pr ‘Life in itself is neither good nor evil; it is the scene of good or evil as you make it.’
Michel de Montaigne
When I was a kid I always assumed we’d probably crack the code to the meaning of life by the time I got around to having to actually live one in the adult world. I mean, children’s fiction and media can be really effective at bestowing a meaningful lesson that doesn’t answer it full but helps you feel good about living with the questions of what it is, so I figured we must at least be almost there. Yet here we are! Something I’ve always enjoyed about existentialism—aside from having been a cool word to use in college to give the impression maybe something useful was bouncing around in my mind (doubtful)—is that it approaches these questions in a highly personal and subjective way and empowers us to see our role in creating meaning around us. What is Existentialism from the great Simone de Beauvoir collects two essays, the titular one (which is only 8pgs long) and her first-published essay, the 1944 Pyrrhus and Cinéas. Much like, what is the meaning of life, turns out what existentialism is can also tough to define. Eschewing a direct answer, something she says she often let people down by denying it could be succinctly summarized, Beauvoir’s first essay focuses on what it isn’t, how to approach and offers helpful signposts towards an answer, while the second dives further into many of the themes that would come to define her work. Together they form a wonderful introduction into ideas of existentialism, examining ideas on how our task is ‘to fashion the world by giving it a meaning,’ as well as the journey to ascribing meaning in a world where our lives our finite and the journey never ending.
‘It is possible for man to snatch the world from the darkness of absurdity.’
I love Beauvoir, I find her to be really uplifting, inspiring and optimistic, the final one something many find surprising as existentialism often gets mistaken as a rather gloomy outlook. Which is what she contends against in the brief opening essay, examining why there is so much disconcertion and backlash against it during the time of her writing. ‘Symbolic logic, for example, never incited such passionate disputes.’ Part of the misunderstanding, she asserts, is inherent in the error ‘believing that existentialism can be concentrated in one or two immediately efficient, simple expressions.’ She compares it to mathematics or physics theories where it is accessible only to the initiated, and isn’t some pop-psychology trend but built on a long road of philosophical thought that it itself continues. She posits that the way existentialism is so easily expressed through novels and plays as well as theoretical treatises also bothers people and leads them to believe it might not be a philosophy at all.
But what is it? She first discusses what it is not, being not a social phenomenon or political movement, not a trick to ‘winning a game,’ and though it has social repercussions it is not a social theory. It is not interior or exterior but:
Now that sounds like a speech you’d give to get a sports team worked up to win, but if that sports team was going to write an essay on free will or something. But must critically, she reminds us that good and evil is not a guaranteed, definitive moral code and ‘existentialism rejects the notion of ready-made values whose affirmation precedes human judgement,’ something she would expand upon greatly in The Ethics of Ambiguity.
An more in-depth introduction to existenialist thought comes in the second essay, Pyrrhus and Cinéas, which probes questions such as what is the point of anything, something I say at least once a day at work. It begins with the story of the titular characters where, in response to Pyrrhus’ long list of goals (unfortunately goals to colonize people…), Cinéas asks what he will do then. The response, to finally rest, makes Cinéas then question why he doesn’t just rest now instead of going through all the struggles and efforts to arrive at the same thing. While Cinéas is often seen as the wiser, Beauvoir says, she finds Pyrrhus to be an example of authentic living. He sets out to accomplish goals, to have action, and exposes the truth that goals are always continuing, something will always transcend the former goal. ‘The paradox of the human condition is that every end can be surpassed, and yet, the project defines the end as an end,’ she writes. The path to finding meaning is, in its own way, a compass for meaning in itself.
This is an excellent essay that addresses many themes to be picked up again in The Ethics of Ambiguity and shows Beauvoir first approaching themes that she would elucidate through her entire life. The final section of that book explores the ideas that freedom consists of aiming itself towards freedom, and that we always continue onward, goals always advancing, such as how a painter never 'finishes' art, but continues a conversation forward to the future. Human transcendence has the problem that we can never truly fulfill something, due to our finite lifespan, but play a transitory part in it.
Using Candide’s statement that he will simply tend his own garden, we can look at the world as our garden and something we must cultivate and engage with as a way of giving it meaning.She also looks at many other issues on how meaning or ethics can be addressed and for what purpose do we do anything. Under a religious belief, God would determine what is good or bad, and we would be called by God to do things and must, therefore, do them. She brings up Fear and Trembling and The Castle as examples that question this, and the problem how we can determine when the false prophets would also claim to be the messiah. She also looks at issues of violence, and our responsibility to each other. How can we act in a way that enhances freedom, that cultivates our garden. This essay is a good representation of what she says in the first that these aren’t isolated ideas and draw on the works of others, with this drawing examples and arguments from many great minds before her.
What is Existentialism? doesn’t have all the answers, but nobody does and that’s half the fun. This does serve as an excellent introduction to existentialism as well as the works of Simone de Beauvoir, who has certainly become my favorite of the group. A quick read that, while dense, is packed with amazing insights and thoughts to ponder all life long. ...more
Michel de Montaigne
When I was a kid I always assumed we’d pr ‘Life in itself is neither good nor evil; it is the scene of good or evil as you make it.’
Michel de Montaigne
When I was a kid I always assumed we’d probably crack the code to the meaning of life by the time I got around to having to actually live one in the adult world. I mean, children’s fiction and media can be really effective at bestowing a meaningful lesson that doesn’t answer it full but helps you feel good about living with the questions of what it is, so I figured we must at least be almost there. Yet here we are! Something I’ve always enjoyed about existentialism—aside from having been a cool word to use in college to give the impression maybe something useful was bouncing around in my mind (doubtful)—is that it approaches these questions in a highly personal and subjective way and empowers us to see our role in creating meaning around us. What is Existentialism from the great Simone de Beauvoir collects two essays, the titular one (which is only 8pgs long) and her first-published essay, the 1944 Pyrrhus and Cinéas. Much like, what is the meaning of life, turns out what existentialism is can also tough to define. Eschewing a direct answer, something she says she often let people down by denying it could be succinctly summarized, Beauvoir’s first essay focuses on what it isn’t, how to approach and offers helpful signposts towards an answer, while the second dives further into many of the themes that would come to define her work. Together they form a wonderful introduction into ideas of existentialism, examining ideas on how our task is ‘to fashion the world by giving it a meaning,’ as well as the journey to ascribing meaning in a world where our lives our finite and the journey never ending.
‘It is possible for man to snatch the world from the darkness of absurdity.’
I love Beauvoir, I find her to be really uplifting, inspiring and optimistic, the final one something many find surprising as existentialism often gets mistaken as a rather gloomy outlook. Which is what she contends against in the brief opening essay, examining why there is so much disconcertion and backlash against it during the time of her writing. ‘Symbolic logic, for example, never incited such passionate disputes.’ Part of the misunderstanding, she asserts, is inherent in the error ‘believing that existentialism can be concentrated in one or two immediately efficient, simple expressions.’ She compares it to mathematics or physics theories where it is accessible only to the initiated, and isn’t some pop-psychology trend but built on a long road of philosophical thought that it itself continues. She posits that the way existentialism is so easily expressed through novels and plays as well as theoretical treatises also bothers people and leads them to believe it might not be a philosophy at all.
But what is it? She first discusses what it is not, being not a social phenomenon or political movement, not a trick to ‘winning a game,’ and though it has social repercussions it is not a social theory. It is not interior or exterior but:
‘strives to hold both ends of the chain at the same time, surpassing the interior-exterior, subjective-objective opposition. It postulates the value of the individual as the source and reason for being [raison d’être]...yet it admits that the individual has reality only through his engagement in the world. It affirms that the will of free being is sufficient for the accomplishment of freedom, yet it also states that this will can posit itself only by struggling against the obstacles and the oppressions that limit the concrete possibilities of man.’
Now that sounds like a speech you’d give to get a sports team worked up to win, but if that sports team was going to write an essay on free will or something. But must critically, she reminds us that good and evil is not a guaranteed, definitive moral code and ‘existentialism rejects the notion of ready-made values whose affirmation precedes human judgement,’ something she would expand upon greatly in The Ethics of Ambiguity.
An more in-depth introduction to existenialist thought comes in the second essay, Pyrrhus and Cinéas, which probes questions such as what is the point of anything, something I say at least once a day at work. It begins with the story of the titular characters where, in response to Pyrrhus’ long list of goals (unfortunately goals to colonize people…), Cinéas asks what he will do then. The response, to finally rest, makes Cinéas then question why he doesn’t just rest now instead of going through all the struggles and efforts to arrive at the same thing. While Cinéas is often seen as the wiser, Beauvoir says, she finds Pyrrhus to be an example of authentic living. He sets out to accomplish goals, to have action, and exposes the truth that goals are always continuing, something will always transcend the former goal. ‘The paradox of the human condition is that every end can be surpassed, and yet, the project defines the end as an end,’ she writes. The path to finding meaning is, in its own way, a compass for meaning in itself.
‘From the top of the hill I look at the path travelled, and the entire path is present in the joy of my success. The walk gives the rest its worth, and my thirst gives the glass of water its worth. A whole past comes together in the moment of enjoyment.’
This is an excellent essay that addresses many themes to be picked up again in The Ethics of Ambiguity and shows Beauvoir first approaching themes that she would elucidate through her entire life. The final section of that book explores the ideas that freedom consists of aiming itself towards freedom, and that we always continue onward, goals always advancing, such as how a painter never 'finishes' art, but continues a conversation forward to the future. Human transcendence has the problem that we can never truly fulfill something, due to our finite lifespan, but play a transitory part in it.
Using Candide’s statement that he will simply tend his own garden, we can look at the world as our garden and something we must cultivate and engage with as a way of giving it meaning.She also looks at many other issues on how meaning or ethics can be addressed and for what purpose do we do anything. Under a religious belief, God would determine what is good or bad, and we would be called by God to do things and must, therefore, do them. She brings up Fear and Trembling and The Castle as examples that question this, and the problem how we can determine when the false prophets would also claim to be the messiah. She also looks at issues of violence, and our responsibility to each other. How can we act in a way that enhances freedom, that cultivates our garden. This essay is a good representation of what she says in the first that these aren’t isolated ideas and draw on the works of others, with this drawing examples and arguments from many great minds before her.
What is Existentialism? doesn’t have all the answers, but nobody does and that’s half the fun. This does serve as an excellent introduction to existentialism as well as the works of Simone de Beauvoir, who has certainly become my favorite of the group. A quick read that, while dense, is packed with amazing insights and thoughts to ponder all life long. ...more
Notes are private!
1
Mar 24, 2023
Mar 24, 2023
Mar 24, 2023
Paperback
1480442801
9781480442801
1480442801
4.17
7,814
1947
Dec 01, 2015
really liked it
‘To will oneself moral and to will oneself free are one and the same decision.’
Faced with an absence of moral absolutes, one must ask what a code of e ‘To will oneself moral and to will oneself free are one and the same decision.’
Faced with an absence of moral absolutes, one must ask what a code of ethics would look like in a subjective existence. In The Ethics of Ambiguity, Simone de Beauvoir (best known for her cornerstone work, The Second Sex, which kickstarted second-wave feminism) address such questions of ethics from a perspective of existentialist thought she was developing with friend and contemporary Jean-Paul Sartre. Having stated in a lecture that Sartre’s Being and Nothingness was inadequate to base an entire ethical system, Simone de Beauvoir approached existential ethics through the basis of human freedom, which she declared the foundation of morality instead of a binary between good and bad. Above all, she argues one must ‘act to defend and develop the moral freedom of oneself and others.’ Across the three sections of The Ethics of Ambiguity, Beauvoir takes a philosophical deep dive into the ambiguity of existence, examining ethical attitudes and ‘ways of being’ people may take in relation to our own freedoms as well as the freedoms of others, arguing that even without a fixed moral absolutism, existentialism provides a path of virtuous and praiseworthy living all the same.
'Ethics is the triumph of freedom over facticity.'
The Ethics of Ambiguity is a highly readable book, and at just under 200pgs it is one that never feels like biting off more than one can chew despite it being a heady and nuanced work worth giving plenty of space to digest. It is a delicious meal of thought, however, and I’ve always found the ways Beauvoir relates her own thinking with the writings of other philosophers to be rather inviting, giving the reader enough context to follow along even if they are unfamiliar with the other’s work. This book offers some excellent looks at her ideas set against the big picture of other ethical systems as well as in context with other existentialist ideas, often writing in defense against criticisms against existentialism for being too bleak or not offering any distinction between right and wrong. Beauvoir asserting that morality is something people develop through life in relation to the current contexts of life instead of a fixed and universal code. She cites and rebuts Fyodor Dostoevsky’s famous line from the The Brothers Karamazov ‘if God is dead, everything is permitted, ’ as she posits that whole humans are ontologically free, life is not a nihilistic free-for-all under existentialism and she also develops criteria that can determine if actions are moral or not.
‘[L]et us therefore try to look the truth in the face. Let us try to assume our fundamental ambiguity. It is in the knowledge of the genuine conditions of our life that we must draw our strength to live and our reason for acting.’
A tenant of existentialist thought is that ‘existence precedes essence,’ namely that objects or ideas exist before value is assigned to them and that, as Sartre argues, life has no meaning until we assign a meaning or essence to it. In this way, Beauvoir argues against any idea of absolute goodness, stating ‘there exists no absolute value’ and that instead value is developed from our choices. So while morality is subjective it is still meaningful because all meaning is subjective. In this way, Beauvoir follows Sartre’s ideas against ‘bad-faith’ living, and that we must desire to always be ‘willing ourselves free’ in authenticity of the self instead of having our value defined by others.
So what is ambiguity? We need to break this down a bit. Beauvoir draws heavily on Sartre’s works in Being and Nothingness on the distinction of anything being ‘in-itself’ or ‘for-itself’ (roughly: using Martin Heidegger’s concept of daesein, or being-in-itself, Sartre looks at in-itself as the object in the world and for-itself as the consciousness of existence/purpose/activity/etc) and sees the friction between the two as creating much of the ambiguity in existence. She shows how as individuals we see ourselves as, say, the main character in our lives, but also must acknowledge that we are side or background characters in the lives of others. We are both subject and object, and while we are free we also exist in the lives of others as ‘factic’ and operating under all the factors of reality and forces of society (laws, socioeconomics, social codes, and social barriers of prejudices/racism/sexism/etc to name a few). This is our ambiguity, and life is ambiguous. We set out with goals and feelings and inevitably die.
She draws a distinction between ambiguity and absurdism as well. ‘To declare that existence is absurd is to deny that it can ever be given a meaning,’ she writes, ‘to say that it is ambiguous is to assert that its meaning is never fixed, that it must be constantly won.’ While Camus leaned into the absurdity in life, writing that we find happiness in the struggle itself, Beauvoir looks at how that does not form an ethical system that enhances freedoms for all.
In a way it makes Camus feel overtly nihilistic and Beauvoir argues that freedom comes from the pursuit of it. Transcendence much be found by itself but never actually fulfilled as we inevitably die and the world continues on. As an example, she argues artists don’t set out to “finish” art but instead to capture it in its moment, time always marches on and expands on what came before, which she also addresses in terms of how society and politics are always changing over time.
’Freedom is the source from which all significations and all values spring. It is the original condition of all justification of existence.’
Freedom creates values but this sort of subjective approach has an objective morality of responsibility with freedom. Beauvoir teaches us to remember that our will to freedom affects all those around us, creating a sense of morality that enhancing freedom is ethically correct, but restricting freedom of others even in enhancing our own, is not.
There is a good look at the ways systems purported to promote freedom often become restrictive. Freedom must be employed productively or it becomes oppressive, and a large part of The Second Sex shows that subjugation comes when a person (women, in this instance) is denied being thought of as for-itself and viewed instead as an object/property or other aspect of materialism. She also shows how moral evil for existentialists is essentially anything preventing us from accepting life’s ambiguity being able to improve both yourself and the world together. Or, anything that makes your valuation the object of another’s will.
‘Man must not attempt to dispel the ambiguity of his being but, on the contrary, accept the task of realizing it.’
Part two examines how as we enter adulthood we realize that we not only have freedom but responsibility and our actions shape the world. She breaks down several ‘ways of being’ and how that relates to ideas of ambiguity and freedom which I suppose could serve as a replacement for the enneagram if you wanted. These include examples like the sub-man who is so afraid of action they deny their own freedom and aims to do nothing at all, the adventurer who seeks their freedom but often runs over that of others, or the passionate man who is similar but allows diminishment of his own freedoms for others. Problems arise due to either rejecting the experience of freedom or misunderstanding the meaning of it, and one should live with passion and generosity while protecting both themselves and others from becoming an object of another’s will. We must accept the burdens of freedom and not avoid them.
‘The oppressed can fulfill his freedom as a man only in revolt.’
The third section emphasizes actions and how they relate in her concept of ethical ambiguity. Much of this addresses the misuse of freedom, particularly in ways that oppress others and how this is always evil. Yet because oppression always exists, and because oppressors go to great lengths to convince the oppress this is just the “natural” order or way of things (think how under capitalism the poor are mistakenly socially framed as failures to mislead from acknowledging them as victims) and thereby we must always be in revolt. She addresses Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel and how his works acknowledges 'the struggle will never cease' and 'does not dare delude himself with the idea of a stationary future.'
I’m reminded of Le Guin’s The Dispossessed and how society is an endlessly revolving series of revolutions and must always be aimed at expanded ethical freedoms. She cites Leon Trotsky envisaging 'the future as a permanent revolution' and once again reiterates than ethics is of the moment and not a mark on a static line through time.
When it comes to revolt, Beauvoir looks at how during revolt 'we can conquor our enemies only by acting on their facticity, by reducing them to things,' and how, in the process of this, we 'have to make ourselves things' in return. This also gets into the issue of violence and she asks if there are circumstances when violence is justified against oppressors (this comes after the occupation of France by the Nazis during which Beauvoir worked with the Underground).
She posits that when violene is done to, say, a 16 year old Nazi on the battlefield 'it was not he whom we hated but his masters,' but also that 'the oppressors would not be so strong if they did not have accomplices among the oppressed themselves.' She admits that, ideally, we should re-educate those who have been persuayed to serve the oppressors in violence and unethical action, but the 'urgency of struggle forbits slow labor.' The conclusion she arrives at is 'we are obliged to destroy not only the oppressor but also those who serve him, whether they do so out of ignorance or out of constraint.'
Overall, we are called to ask how we commit to freedom for the self while also making room to the freedom of all others. This is explored in many aspects of ambiguity and ethical conundrums where the point of objectivity in the subjective reality is always freedom. The Ethics of Ambiguity is a great and worthwhile read that would serve as a perfect introduction to existentialism ethics or simply to anyone interested in ethical philosophy in general. Perhaps not her strongest work, yet still plenty engaging and interesting. I’ve always found her method of examining concepts to be very effective and promote understanding without being overly obfuscating. I also enjoyed many ways how I could see her expanding or using these ideas in the underpinnings of her later work, The Second Sex. Short, but not short on big ideas to wrestle with, The Ethics of Ambiguity is a staple of existentialist works.
‘ we are absolutely free today if we choose to will our existence in its finiteness, a finiteness which is open on the infinite.’ ...more
Faced with an absence of moral absolutes, one must ask what a code of e ‘To will oneself moral and to will oneself free are one and the same decision.’
Faced with an absence of moral absolutes, one must ask what a code of ethics would look like in a subjective existence. In The Ethics of Ambiguity, Simone de Beauvoir (best known for her cornerstone work, The Second Sex, which kickstarted second-wave feminism) address such questions of ethics from a perspective of existentialist thought she was developing with friend and contemporary Jean-Paul Sartre. Having stated in a lecture that Sartre’s Being and Nothingness was inadequate to base an entire ethical system, Simone de Beauvoir approached existential ethics through the basis of human freedom, which she declared the foundation of morality instead of a binary between good and bad. Above all, she argues one must ‘act to defend and develop the moral freedom of oneself and others.’ Across the three sections of The Ethics of Ambiguity, Beauvoir takes a philosophical deep dive into the ambiguity of existence, examining ethical attitudes and ‘ways of being’ people may take in relation to our own freedoms as well as the freedoms of others, arguing that even without a fixed moral absolutism, existentialism provides a path of virtuous and praiseworthy living all the same.
'Ethics is the triumph of freedom over facticity.'
The Ethics of Ambiguity is a highly readable book, and at just under 200pgs it is one that never feels like biting off more than one can chew despite it being a heady and nuanced work worth giving plenty of space to digest. It is a delicious meal of thought, however, and I’ve always found the ways Beauvoir relates her own thinking with the writings of other philosophers to be rather inviting, giving the reader enough context to follow along even if they are unfamiliar with the other’s work. This book offers some excellent looks at her ideas set against the big picture of other ethical systems as well as in context with other existentialist ideas, often writing in defense against criticisms against existentialism for being too bleak or not offering any distinction between right and wrong. Beauvoir asserting that morality is something people develop through life in relation to the current contexts of life instead of a fixed and universal code. She cites and rebuts Fyodor Dostoevsky’s famous line from the The Brothers Karamazov ‘if God is dead, everything is permitted, ’ as she posits that whole humans are ontologically free, life is not a nihilistic free-for-all under existentialism and she also develops criteria that can determine if actions are moral or not.
‘[L]et us therefore try to look the truth in the face. Let us try to assume our fundamental ambiguity. It is in the knowledge of the genuine conditions of our life that we must draw our strength to live and our reason for acting.’
A tenant of existentialist thought is that ‘existence precedes essence,’ namely that objects or ideas exist before value is assigned to them and that, as Sartre argues, life has no meaning until we assign a meaning or essence to it. In this way, Beauvoir argues against any idea of absolute goodness, stating ‘there exists no absolute value’ and that instead value is developed from our choices. So while morality is subjective it is still meaningful because all meaning is subjective. In this way, Beauvoir follows Sartre’s ideas against ‘bad-faith’ living, and that we must desire to always be ‘willing ourselves free’ in authenticity of the self instead of having our value defined by others.
So what is ambiguity? We need to break this down a bit. Beauvoir draws heavily on Sartre’s works in Being and Nothingness on the distinction of anything being ‘in-itself’ or ‘for-itself’ (roughly: using Martin Heidegger’s concept of daesein, or being-in-itself, Sartre looks at in-itself as the object in the world and for-itself as the consciousness of existence/purpose/activity/etc) and sees the friction between the two as creating much of the ambiguity in existence. She shows how as individuals we see ourselves as, say, the main character in our lives, but also must acknowledge that we are side or background characters in the lives of others. We are both subject and object, and while we are free we also exist in the lives of others as ‘factic’ and operating under all the factors of reality and forces of society (laws, socioeconomics, social codes, and social barriers of prejudices/racism/sexism/etc to name a few). This is our ambiguity, and life is ambiguous. We set out with goals and feelings and inevitably die.
She draws a distinction between ambiguity and absurdism as well. ‘To declare that existence is absurd is to deny that it can ever be given a meaning,’ she writes, ‘to say that it is ambiguous is to assert that its meaning is never fixed, that it must be constantly won.’ While Camus leaned into the absurdity in life, writing that we find happiness in the struggle itself, Beauvoir looks at how that does not form an ethical system that enhances freedoms for all.
‘Absurdity challenges every ethics; but also the finished rationalization of the real would leave no room for ethics; it is because man's condition is ambiguous that he seeks, through failure and outrageousness, to save his existence. Thus, to say that action has to be lived in its truth, that is, in the consciousness of the antinomies which it involves, does not mean that one has to renounce it.’
In a way it makes Camus feel overtly nihilistic and Beauvoir argues that freedom comes from the pursuit of it. Transcendence much be found by itself but never actually fulfilled as we inevitably die and the world continues on. As an example, she argues artists don’t set out to “finish” art but instead to capture it in its moment, time always marches on and expands on what came before, which she also addresses in terms of how society and politics are always changing over time.
’Freedom is the source from which all significations and all values spring. It is the original condition of all justification of existence.’
Freedom creates values but this sort of subjective approach has an objective morality of responsibility with freedom. Beauvoir teaches us to remember that our will to freedom affects all those around us, creating a sense of morality that enhancing freedom is ethically correct, but restricting freedom of others even in enhancing our own, is not.
‘A freedom which is interested only in denying freedom must be denied. And it is not true that the recognition of the freedom of others limits my own freedom: to be free is not to have the power to do anything you like; it is to be able to surpass the given toward an open future; the existence of others as a freedom defines my situation and is even the condition of my own freedom. I am oppressed if I am thrown into prison, but not if I am kept from throwing my neighbor into prison.’
There is a good look at the ways systems purported to promote freedom often become restrictive. Freedom must be employed productively or it becomes oppressive, and a large part of The Second Sex shows that subjugation comes when a person (women, in this instance) is denied being thought of as for-itself and viewed instead as an object/property or other aspect of materialism. She also shows how moral evil for existentialists is essentially anything preventing us from accepting life’s ambiguity being able to improve both yourself and the world together. Or, anything that makes your valuation the object of another’s will.
‘Man must not attempt to dispel the ambiguity of his being but, on the contrary, accept the task of realizing it.’
Part two examines how as we enter adulthood we realize that we not only have freedom but responsibility and our actions shape the world. She breaks down several ‘ways of being’ and how that relates to ideas of ambiguity and freedom which I suppose could serve as a replacement for the enneagram if you wanted. These include examples like the sub-man who is so afraid of action they deny their own freedom and aims to do nothing at all, the adventurer who seeks their freedom but often runs over that of others, or the passionate man who is similar but allows diminishment of his own freedoms for others. Problems arise due to either rejecting the experience of freedom or misunderstanding the meaning of it, and one should live with passion and generosity while protecting both themselves and others from becoming an object of another’s will. We must accept the burdens of freedom and not avoid them.
‘The oppressed can fulfill his freedom as a man only in revolt.’
The third section emphasizes actions and how they relate in her concept of ethical ambiguity. Much of this addresses the misuse of freedom, particularly in ways that oppress others and how this is always evil. Yet because oppression always exists, and because oppressors go to great lengths to convince the oppress this is just the “natural” order or way of things (think how under capitalism the poor are mistakenly socially framed as failures to mislead from acknowledging them as victims) and thereby we must always be in revolt. She addresses Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel and how his works acknowledges 'the struggle will never cease' and 'does not dare delude himself with the idea of a stationary future.'
'The fundemental ambiguity of the human condition will always open up to men the possibility of opposing choices; there will always be within them the desire to be that being of whom they have made themsleves a lack, the flight from the anguish of freedom; the plane of hell, of struggle, will never be eliminated; freedom will never be given; it will always have to be won.'
I’m reminded of Le Guin’s The Dispossessed and how society is an endlessly revolving series of revolutions and must always be aimed at expanded ethical freedoms. She cites Leon Trotsky envisaging 'the future as a permanent revolution' and once again reiterates than ethics is of the moment and not a mark on a static line through time.
When it comes to revolt, Beauvoir looks at how during revolt 'we can conquor our enemies only by acting on their facticity, by reducing them to things,' and how, in the process of this, we 'have to make ourselves things' in return. This also gets into the issue of violence and she asks if there are circumstances when violence is justified against oppressors (this comes after the occupation of France by the Nazis during which Beauvoir worked with the Underground).
‘In order for a liberating action to be a thoroughly moral action, it would have to be achieved through a conversion of the oppressors: there would then be a reconciliation of all freedoms. But no one any longer dares to abandon himself today to these utopian reveries.’
She posits that when violene is done to, say, a 16 year old Nazi on the battlefield 'it was not he whom we hated but his masters,' but also that 'the oppressors would not be so strong if they did not have accomplices among the oppressed themselves.' She admits that, ideally, we should re-educate those who have been persuayed to serve the oppressors in violence and unethical action, but the 'urgency of struggle forbits slow labor.' The conclusion she arrives at is 'we are obliged to destroy not only the oppressor but also those who serve him, whether they do so out of ignorance or out of constraint.'
Overall, we are called to ask how we commit to freedom for the self while also making room to the freedom of all others. This is explored in many aspects of ambiguity and ethical conundrums where the point of objectivity in the subjective reality is always freedom. The Ethics of Ambiguity is a great and worthwhile read that would serve as a perfect introduction to existentialism ethics or simply to anyone interested in ethical philosophy in general. Perhaps not her strongest work, yet still plenty engaging and interesting. I’ve always found her method of examining concepts to be very effective and promote understanding without being overly obfuscating. I also enjoyed many ways how I could see her expanding or using these ideas in the underpinnings of her later work, The Second Sex. Short, but not short on big ideas to wrestle with, The Ethics of Ambiguity is a staple of existentialist works.
‘ we are absolutely free today if we choose to will our existence in its finiteness, a finiteness which is open on the infinite.’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
Feb 23, 2023
Feb 23, 2023
Feb 23, 2023
Paperback
1416556966
9781416556961
1416556966
4.13
84,879
May 1971
Apr 15, 2008
really liked it
'Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.'
- Zhuangzi
A few years ag 'Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.'
- Zhuangzi
A few years ago I was listening to Margaret Atwood on NPR discussing how for every person’s idea of a utopian society, there is someone who would find it to be a dystopia, and vice versa. Dystopian sci-fi has been quite popular in the past few decades and champions the spirit of rebellion and resistance, but something I find so charming about Ursula K Le Guin is that she tends to focus less on the struggles within dystopias and instead on the struggles that come trying to envision and forge a better world towards a eutopia. Though Le Guin also agrees with Atwood, having written ‘every eutopia contains a dystopia, every dystopia contains a eutopia,’ and in her novel The Lathe of Heaven, Le Guin explores the idea that even best intentions in creating a perfect world can fracture to chaos and hunger for power and be full of imperfections. Le Guin explores the philosophies of Taoism—central to many of Le Guin’s works— and critiques of Utilitarianism in this wildly imaginative story. Through shifting realities that barrel through an exciting variety of sci-fi tropes, The Lathe of Heaven is an excellent examination on power and control, the nuances that make up society and an expression that ‘it’s not right to play God with masses of people.’
‘This was the way he had to go; he had no choice. He had never had any choice. He was only a dreamer.’
Philip K. Dick wrote that Lathe of Heaven is ‘one of the best novels, and most important to understanding of the nature of our world.’ Which is high praise from another master of science fiction, and the author this novel is most often compared with. He adds that in Lathe ‘ the dream universe is articulated in such a striking and compelling way that I hesitate to add any further explanation to it; it requires none.’ Which I tend to agree with, and there is nothing I can say that hasn’t already been better expressed by others of Le Guin herself but I love this book so much that I can’t help but ramble about it.
A short novel, but packed with amazing ideas, Lathe of Heaven rotates between three perspectives. First is George Orr, a man with the power to change reality with his dreams, keeping them at bay with a harsh drug addiction that winds him in the care of the character who is our second perspective: Dr. Haber. The doctor, representative of the taoist yang, has a belief in Utilitarian ideals leads him to exploit Orr in order to reshape the world as he sees fit. He has the best of intentions at first, but chaos and a thirst for power befall even the noblest of pursuits. Finally we have Heather Lelache, a Black civil rights lawyer and ACLU observer who attempts to aid Orr against Haber’s quest for control and with whom Orr falls in love. The three of them guide us through the changing realities as Haber directs Orr to imagine a more perfect world, though the results are often not what they expect.
‘The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.’
With each new reality—only Orr and Haber can remember what came before and the world is whiplashed into new realities with each dream—Le Guin is able to create a lot of good fun examining how these changes might go awry or how they alter society. Haber, a utilitarian, finds his quest for perfection often misses the nuances in their implications and one must ask if the maximum amount of happiness is actual extreme unhappiness for others. Such as his fears of the world being overpopulated leads Orr to dream of a plague that causes mass death and chaos, or his desire to world peace creates an alien race threatening the Earth which unites all the nations against a common enemy but has us on the brink of galactic war.
One of the most effective digs into the nuances of society comes when Orr dreams everyone into having gray skin under Haber’s orders in an attempt to eliminate racism. This makes for an excellent rebuttal against the ideas of ‘not seeing color’ or color-blindness in society as showing that cultural differences are a lively part of life and without them the world is rather bland (hence the grayness). As Heather is of mixed parentage, she is eliminated entirely from this reality, with Le Guin telling this segment from Orr’s perspective in a way that makes her absence emphasized. When Orr brings her into the world again through his dreams, the absence of her background that formed key elements of her personality leaves her docile and practically not Heather at all, the one who would ‘come on hard’ and intimidate with ‘fierce, scornful’ remarks (though it should be noted this is playing into a pejorative stereotype of the ‘angry Black woman’ that is rather harmful).
‘We're in the world, not against it. It doesn't work to try to stand outside things and run them, that way. It just doesn't work, it goes against life. There is a way but you have to follow it. The world is, no matter how we think it ought to be. You have to be with it. You have to let it be.’
Returning to the concepts of Taoism, we have Orr representing a more passive stance while Haber is the more controlling one who’s attempts to play God have him destined to be ‘destroyed on the lathe of heaven’ (interestingly enough, Le Guin later admitted the title is based on a mistranslation). George Orr—named as both a nod to George Orwell and play on Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, with Heather referring to him as ‘Mister Either Orr’—appears rather passive, though this stems from his belief that ‘it’s wrong to force the pattern of things.’ Often compared to jellyfish, Orr can be best understood through the way Le Guin describes the sea creatures:
Like the jellyfish using the strength of the ocean where it lacks personal defensiveness, George employs the world around him and his friends to help him out. While we first see him as soft, as the representation of yin, we discover that is only half the perception and Heather sees him as the ‘strongest person she had ever known, because he could not be moved away from the center.’ I mean, he reshapes reality, he just doesn’t want to. Haber’s depiction of him helps us see Orr more clearly as well:
George Orr represents the tao as a whole, being both yin and yang, being the duality that is needed. To be just one is to be unbalanced, as we see with Dr. Haber.
Le Guin often uses taoist philosophy in her works, and her essay on writing europias, a highly recommended read you can access here, uses the language of yin and yang to elucidate her ideas. Even The Dispossessed uses a blend of taoism and anarchism as a central part of the novel's social and philosophical construction. There are other expressions in here as well, most notably Mt. Hood being symbolic of wu wei , or ‘effortless action’, being a constant presence that also serves as an indication of the current state of reality in the novel. Water also serves as a symbol of this as well, being a natural order of things and the absence of it shows the disruption of the natural balance of life.
‘Those who dream of feasting wake to lamentation.’
Chuang Tzu
While George is compared to a jellyfish, Haber is frequently compared to a bear: a force of brute strength in nature. ‘He was gray, large, broad, curly bearded, deep-chested, frowning,’ we are told of his bearlike appearance, followed with ‘Your God is a jealous God,’ evoking the Christian depiction of God with Christianity often played as the foil to taoism in the novel. He seeks to rule the world and all reality as he sees fit, saying ‘this world will be like heaven, and men will be like gods!’ However, Orr replies ‘we are already,’ a further expression that the natural order of things is the best way. There are many consequences shown for playing God here, most notably the mass deaths and destructions that come as consequence of the changes, but also compiling reality on top of realities begins to create a sickening sense of unreality. Le Guin references a T.S. Eliot poem, Burnt Norton from the Four Quartets, in which a bird argues ‘mankind cannot bear very much reality.’ However, here we see it is unreality that the mind cannot bear and it has terrible consequences.
This has all been a rudimentary look at the philosophical undertones of the book, and I wouldn’t want to make it appear rather stuffy or heady as the book is, in fact, a really fun and engaging story with a fast-moving plot. With each change it is exciting to see how the world responds and Le Guin moves through a lot of rather cliched sci fi scenarios that manage to still feel fresh in the framing of the novel as a whole. There’s a lot of action too, such as an alien invasion scene. The alien species, which is rather turtle-like, is quite fun once they are no longer a threat to humans. I love the moment where we learn of their social anxieties, having to point at the face of their interlocutor in order for their translation equipment to work while also knowing pointing is considered rude so they just don’t talk much. I FELT THAT.
‘You don't speak of dreams as unreal. They exist. They leave a mark behind them.’
Le Guin was an absolute master and Lathe of Heaven is yet another example of how she would courageously and creatively make literary gems within a science fiction framework. This book is packed with philosophical insight and a driving plot that will keep you turning pages to see what bizarre twist will befall them next. A fun story with a lot of heart, and something to keep in mind if you ever decide to play God.
4.5/5
‘A person who believes, as she did, that things fit: that there is a whole of which one is a part, and that in being a part one is whole: such a person has no desire whatever, at any time, to play God. Only those who have denied their being yearn to play at it.’ ...more
- Zhuangzi
A few years ag 'Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.'
- Zhuangzi
A few years ago I was listening to Margaret Atwood on NPR discussing how for every person’s idea of a utopian society, there is someone who would find it to be a dystopia, and vice versa. Dystopian sci-fi has been quite popular in the past few decades and champions the spirit of rebellion and resistance, but something I find so charming about Ursula K Le Guin is that she tends to focus less on the struggles within dystopias and instead on the struggles that come trying to envision and forge a better world towards a eutopia. Though Le Guin also agrees with Atwood, having written ‘every eutopia contains a dystopia, every dystopia contains a eutopia,’ and in her novel The Lathe of Heaven, Le Guin explores the idea that even best intentions in creating a perfect world can fracture to chaos and hunger for power and be full of imperfections. Le Guin explores the philosophies of Taoism—central to many of Le Guin’s works— and critiques of Utilitarianism in this wildly imaginative story. Through shifting realities that barrel through an exciting variety of sci-fi tropes, The Lathe of Heaven is an excellent examination on power and control, the nuances that make up society and an expression that ‘it’s not right to play God with masses of people.’
‘This was the way he had to go; he had no choice. He had never had any choice. He was only a dreamer.’
Philip K. Dick wrote that Lathe of Heaven is ‘one of the best novels, and most important to understanding of the nature of our world.’ Which is high praise from another master of science fiction, and the author this novel is most often compared with. He adds that in Lathe ‘ the dream universe is articulated in such a striking and compelling way that I hesitate to add any further explanation to it; it requires none.’ Which I tend to agree with, and there is nothing I can say that hasn’t already been better expressed by others of Le Guin herself but I love this book so much that I can’t help but ramble about it.
A short novel, but packed with amazing ideas, Lathe of Heaven rotates between three perspectives. First is George Orr, a man with the power to change reality with his dreams, keeping them at bay with a harsh drug addiction that winds him in the care of the character who is our second perspective: Dr. Haber. The doctor, representative of the taoist yang, has a belief in Utilitarian ideals leads him to exploit Orr in order to reshape the world as he sees fit. He has the best of intentions at first, but chaos and a thirst for power befall even the noblest of pursuits. Finally we have Heather Lelache, a Black civil rights lawyer and ACLU observer who attempts to aid Orr against Haber’s quest for control and with whom Orr falls in love. The three of them guide us through the changing realities as Haber directs Orr to imagine a more perfect world, though the results are often not what they expect.
‘The end justifies the means. But what if there never is an end? All we have is means.’
With each new reality—only Orr and Haber can remember what came before and the world is whiplashed into new realities with each dream—Le Guin is able to create a lot of good fun examining how these changes might go awry or how they alter society. Haber, a utilitarian, finds his quest for perfection often misses the nuances in their implications and one must ask if the maximum amount of happiness is actual extreme unhappiness for others. Such as his fears of the world being overpopulated leads Orr to dream of a plague that causes mass death and chaos, or his desire to world peace creates an alien race threatening the Earth which unites all the nations against a common enemy but has us on the brink of galactic war.
One of the most effective digs into the nuances of society comes when Orr dreams everyone into having gray skin under Haber’s orders in an attempt to eliminate racism. This makes for an excellent rebuttal against the ideas of ‘not seeing color’ or color-blindness in society as showing that cultural differences are a lively part of life and without them the world is rather bland (hence the grayness). As Heather is of mixed parentage, she is eliminated entirely from this reality, with Le Guin telling this segment from Orr’s perspective in a way that makes her absence emphasized. When Orr brings her into the world again through his dreams, the absence of her background that formed key elements of her personality leaves her docile and practically not Heather at all, the one who would ‘come on hard’ and intimidate with ‘fierce, scornful’ remarks (though it should be noted this is playing into a pejorative stereotype of the ‘angry Black woman’ that is rather harmful).
‘We're in the world, not against it. It doesn't work to try to stand outside things and run them, that way. It just doesn't work, it goes against life. There is a way but you have to follow it. The world is, no matter how we think it ought to be. You have to be with it. You have to let it be.’
Returning to the concepts of Taoism, we have Orr representing a more passive stance while Haber is the more controlling one who’s attempts to play God have him destined to be ‘destroyed on the lathe of heaven’ (interestingly enough, Le Guin later admitted the title is based on a mistranslation). George Orr—named as both a nod to George Orwell and play on Kierkegaard’s Either/Or, with Heather referring to him as ‘Mister Either Orr’—appears rather passive, though this stems from his belief that ‘it’s wrong to force the pattern of things.’ Often compared to jellyfish, Orr can be best understood through the way Le Guin describes the sea creatures:
‘Hanging, swaying, pulsing, the most vulnerable and insubstantial creature, it has for its defense the violence and power of the whole ocean, to which it has entrusted its being, its going, and its will.’
Like the jellyfish using the strength of the ocean where it lacks personal defensiveness, George employs the world around him and his friends to help him out. While we first see him as soft, as the representation of yin, we discover that is only half the perception and Heather sees him as the ‘strongest person she had ever known, because he could not be moved away from the center.’ I mean, he reshapes reality, he just doesn’t want to. Haber’s depiction of him helps us see Orr more clearly as well:
‘you’re a median…Both, neither. Either, or. Where there’s an opposed pair, a polarity, you’re in the middle; where there’s a scale, you’re the balance point.’
George Orr represents the tao as a whole, being both yin and yang, being the duality that is needed. To be just one is to be unbalanced, as we see with Dr. Haber.
Le Guin often uses taoist philosophy in her works, and her essay on writing europias, a highly recommended read you can access here, uses the language of yin and yang to elucidate her ideas. Even The Dispossessed uses a blend of taoism and anarchism as a central part of the novel's social and philosophical construction. There are other expressions in here as well, most notably Mt. Hood being symbolic of wu wei , or ‘effortless action’, being a constant presence that also serves as an indication of the current state of reality in the novel. Water also serves as a symbol of this as well, being a natural order of things and the absence of it shows the disruption of the natural balance of life.
‘Those who dream of feasting wake to lamentation.’
Chuang Tzu
While George is compared to a jellyfish, Haber is frequently compared to a bear: a force of brute strength in nature. ‘He was gray, large, broad, curly bearded, deep-chested, frowning,’ we are told of his bearlike appearance, followed with ‘Your God is a jealous God,’ evoking the Christian depiction of God with Christianity often played as the foil to taoism in the novel. He seeks to rule the world and all reality as he sees fit, saying ‘this world will be like heaven, and men will be like gods!’ However, Orr replies ‘we are already,’ a further expression that the natural order of things is the best way. There are many consequences shown for playing God here, most notably the mass deaths and destructions that come as consequence of the changes, but also compiling reality on top of realities begins to create a sickening sense of unreality. Le Guin references a T.S. Eliot poem, Burnt Norton from the Four Quartets, in which a bird argues ‘mankind cannot bear very much reality.’ However, here we see it is unreality that the mind cannot bear and it has terrible consequences.
This has all been a rudimentary look at the philosophical undertones of the book, and I wouldn’t want to make it appear rather stuffy or heady as the book is, in fact, a really fun and engaging story with a fast-moving plot. With each change it is exciting to see how the world responds and Le Guin moves through a lot of rather cliched sci fi scenarios that manage to still feel fresh in the framing of the novel as a whole. There’s a lot of action too, such as an alien invasion scene. The alien species, which is rather turtle-like, is quite fun once they are no longer a threat to humans. I love the moment where we learn of their social anxieties, having to point at the face of their interlocutor in order for their translation equipment to work while also knowing pointing is considered rude so they just don’t talk much. I FELT THAT.
‘You don't speak of dreams as unreal. They exist. They leave a mark behind them.’
Le Guin was an absolute master and Lathe of Heaven is yet another example of how she would courageously and creatively make literary gems within a science fiction framework. This book is packed with philosophical insight and a driving plot that will keep you turning pages to see what bizarre twist will befall them next. A fun story with a lot of heart, and something to keep in mind if you ever decide to play God.
4.5/5
‘A person who believes, as she did, that things fit: that there is a whole of which one is a part, and that in being a part one is whole: such a person has no desire whatever, at any time, to play God. Only those who have denied their being yearn to play at it.’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Jan 21, 2023
Paperback
0811231356
9780811231350
0811231356
3.65
25,187
May 24, 2018
Feb 01, 2022
really liked it
‘This is not a human, but a coworker.’
In the quest for productivity and professionalism, what horrors have we unleashed and what paths to dehumanizati ‘This is not a human, but a coworker.’
In the quest for productivity and professionalism, what horrors have we unleashed and what paths to dehumanization have we opened up? Danish poet and writer Olga Ravn’s The Employees is a darkly comic tale full of existential dread about a team of humans and humanoids aboard a work spacecraft that not only examines the spiral towards dehumanization under a life governed by quotidian productivity metrics but also the ache towards humanity awakening in the non-human crew members. Inspired by an art installation by Lea Guldditte Hestelund, ‘Consumed Future Spewed Up as Present’, as well as the ideas of Ursula K. Le Guin, Ravn presents this riotously ponderous novel as an HR pamphlet of interviews conducted with the crew. Ravn’s grounding in poetry is blissfully apparent as she is able to construct an abstract and gripping narrative without use of exposition or any text outside the responses, all marvelously rendered into English here by Martin Aitken. The Employees is an imaginative workplace criticism that is as fantastical as it is deeply unsettling, invoking disquieting imagery&mdashl;particularly to those with tryphobia—in a world encompassed by corporate jargon and flattenend identities as Ravn asks us what it means to be human and will we appreciate it before it is too late.
[image]
Art installation by Lea Guldditte Hestelund
There is a certain charm to creating a workplace novel that reads like HR paperwork, and Ravn manages to craft a truly engaging and dynamic story within the confines of the style. It exists almost more like an art piece than a traditional novel, amplified by the book being an extension of Lea Guldditte Hestelund’s aforementioned art pieces as well as a references to Barbara Kruger’s art piece Untitled (It's a small world but not if you have to clean it). In effect, this book becomes a museum of ideas.
[image]
The latter calls attention to workers who seem invisible to the world while Hestelund’s exhibit uses imagery out of science fiction to examine the relationship between presence and body, both human and non-human. In The Employees the Six Thousand ship discovers curious ‘objects’ on a habitable planet and brings them aboard the ship for observation. We never learn much about the objects (though they are certainly influenced by the pieces in the installation and often described just like the ones shown hanging from the ceiling) but we do observe the effects they have upon the crew, both physically and psychologically.
‘To us, the objects are like an artificial postcard from Earth. To them, they’re a postcard from the future.’
While human crew begin to have strange dreams or break out in boils, the humanoid crew begin to have stirrings of feelings that seem outside their programming and become rather attached to the objects.
The central issue on the ship is always productivity. We see humanoids finding faults in the humans for their feelings getting in the way of work, yet also desiring to have feelings themselves. It becomes a rather bleak yet occasionally darkly funny look at the ways productivity metrics have had an effect on the ways we value ourselves and others in a capitalist society.
[image]
Striking workers at an Amazon facility in Minnesota hold a sign that reads ‘we are human not robots’
The daily news is constantly full of stories about the dehumanization of labor from employees at major corporations being fired by an algorithm with no oversight based on productivity metrics all the way to a Goldman Sachs research report questioning if curing patients is a sustainable business model. Marx warned that labor becomes dehumanizing when pushed for capital gain and I’ve never had a work meeting about metrics where his line that ‘alienation appears not merely in the result but also in the process of production; within productive activity itself,’ didn’t come to mind. And this sort of alienation is occurring on the Six Thousand ship, but not simply employees betraying their coworkers to management but losing any identity outside their role as an employee as well as isolating those they don’t feel are like them, “othering” one another.
‘The more human a worker is, the less productive and desirable she is in the cold eyes of the market.’
- Emily Guendelsberger
In a later interview, a crew member in charge of the humanoid development states that ‘the humanoid body is far more valuable than the human body in its basic form,’ and cites their 2 month growth cycle as far more effective for creating employees than the 20 years it takes for a human to develop into an adult. As the humanoids begin to be more self aware and hostile to their human coworkers, the interviewee states ‘we are witnessing a huge creative leap and ought properly to stand aside.’ The push for better productivity and higher profits, they assume, far outweighs the cost of crew lives as the situation is escalating into violence. ‘I may have been made, but now I’m making myself,’ one declares as the proximity to the ‘objects’ make them feel as if they were ‘been dreamt into being.’ I’m reminded of an HR study on cognitive bias that found executives are more likely to view an employee as competent or deserving of higher compensation if performance reviews use dehumanizing language to describe them in mechanistic terms rather than human terms. While we have see this desire to dehumanize the humans into mere metrics, the humanoids seem to be moving in the opposite direction. Even in terms of language, such as naming the objects:
There is this really chilling crosswave of de/humanization going on between the two increasingly alienated entities brought on by the objects that resonates similarly to the anxiety of Philip K. Dick novels. While on the topic of names, the Ravn probes the question that ‘could I be a human if you called me one?’ In a paperwork novel, is being human merely a checkbox in the paperwork? Meanwhile the human crew wonder ‘are we to love them like humans or dogs,’ and always distrustful—or possibly resentful—that they cannot die, having their memories frequently downloaded to be uploaded in another body if ever needed. While the humans mourn the memory of an Earth now lost to them, the humanoids mourn an existence they only suspect they could ever achieve.
‘I feel a similar longing to be human, as if somehow I used to be, but then lost the ability.’
In an interview with Olga Ravn, she says that ‘Actually an idea of what a human is isn’t big enough to actually hold what a human is. You get the sense you are moving in the outskirts of what a person should be, and that interested me.’ This is examined multiple ways in the novel, much like a central scale to perform jazz improvisations upon through the text. One of the most effective, and unsettling, is the way the crew experiments with the idea of the body and where it ends and begins. The objects, for example, are said to be like a hand holding a pearl, with secrets just inside that are somehow both the object and not. Proximity to the objects makes several crew members want to put them in their mouth, toying with this sort of boundary. It is also reflected in their dreams, which are often of the pores in their skin becoming enlarged and carrying small seeds within them that they scratch out endlessly. It is a terrifying image, playing on tryphobia, which is doubled in its metaphor for the way several crew members find that ‘repetitive, organic structures are unbearable,’ ie. quotidian productivity metrics and the insistence on a unified, dehumanized crew.
‘I want to be a good employee, I want to make good choices.’
This novel is both delightful and repulsive all at once, making for an experimental feast of psychological and philosophical insight. It packs in a lot for just 130pgs, which can easily be read one or two sittings as each crew statement tends to be rather brief. It is rather dreamlike, never truly touching anything or providing any concreteness, with the plot and events being read more through the umbra they cast upon the crew’s consciousness. The Employees is a heady delight that wields its fists at corporate productivity while addressing issues of transhumanism, who deserves rights and what makes us actually, fully human.
4.5/5
‘My human co-worker sometimes talks about not wanting to work, and then he’ll say something quite odd and rather silly. What is it he says now? There’s more to a person than the work they do, or A person is more than just their work? Something like that. But what else could a person be?’’ ...more
In the quest for productivity and professionalism, what horrors have we unleashed and what paths to dehumanizati ‘This is not a human, but a coworker.’
In the quest for productivity and professionalism, what horrors have we unleashed and what paths to dehumanization have we opened up? Danish poet and writer Olga Ravn’s The Employees is a darkly comic tale full of existential dread about a team of humans and humanoids aboard a work spacecraft that not only examines the spiral towards dehumanization under a life governed by quotidian productivity metrics but also the ache towards humanity awakening in the non-human crew members. Inspired by an art installation by Lea Guldditte Hestelund, ‘Consumed Future Spewed Up as Present’, as well as the ideas of Ursula K. Le Guin, Ravn presents this riotously ponderous novel as an HR pamphlet of interviews conducted with the crew. Ravn’s grounding in poetry is blissfully apparent as she is able to construct an abstract and gripping narrative without use of exposition or any text outside the responses, all marvelously rendered into English here by Martin Aitken. The Employees is an imaginative workplace criticism that is as fantastical as it is deeply unsettling, invoking disquieting imagery&mdashl;particularly to those with tryphobia—in a world encompassed by corporate jargon and flattenend identities as Ravn asks us what it means to be human and will we appreciate it before it is too late.
[image]
Art installation by Lea Guldditte Hestelund
There is a certain charm to creating a workplace novel that reads like HR paperwork, and Ravn manages to craft a truly engaging and dynamic story within the confines of the style. It exists almost more like an art piece than a traditional novel, amplified by the book being an extension of Lea Guldditte Hestelund’s aforementioned art pieces as well as a references to Barbara Kruger’s art piece Untitled (It's a small world but not if you have to clean it). In effect, this book becomes a museum of ideas.
[image]
The latter calls attention to workers who seem invisible to the world while Hestelund’s exhibit uses imagery out of science fiction to examine the relationship between presence and body, both human and non-human. In The Employees the Six Thousand ship discovers curious ‘objects’ on a habitable planet and brings them aboard the ship for observation. We never learn much about the objects (though they are certainly influenced by the pieces in the installation and often described just like the ones shown hanging from the ceiling) but we do observe the effects they have upon the crew, both physically and psychologically.
‘To us, the objects are like an artificial postcard from Earth. To them, they’re a postcard from the future.’
While human crew begin to have strange dreams or break out in boils, the humanoid crew begin to have stirrings of feelings that seem outside their programming and become rather attached to the objects.
‘Why do I have these thoughts if the reason I’m here is primarily to increase production? From what perspective are these thoughts productive? Was there an error in the update? If there was, I’d like to be rebooted.’
The central issue on the ship is always productivity. We see humanoids finding faults in the humans for their feelings getting in the way of work, yet also desiring to have feelings themselves. It becomes a rather bleak yet occasionally darkly funny look at the ways productivity metrics have had an effect on the ways we value ourselves and others in a capitalist society.
[image]
Striking workers at an Amazon facility in Minnesota hold a sign that reads ‘we are human not robots’
The daily news is constantly full of stories about the dehumanization of labor from employees at major corporations being fired by an algorithm with no oversight based on productivity metrics all the way to a Goldman Sachs research report questioning if curing patients is a sustainable business model. Marx warned that labor becomes dehumanizing when pushed for capital gain and I’ve never had a work meeting about metrics where his line that ‘alienation appears not merely in the result but also in the process of production; within productive activity itself,’ didn’t come to mind. And this sort of alienation is occurring on the Six Thousand ship, but not simply employees betraying their coworkers to management but losing any identity outside their role as an employee as well as isolating those they don’t feel are like them, “othering” one another.
‘The more human a worker is, the less productive and desirable she is in the cold eyes of the market.’
- Emily Guendelsberger
In a later interview, a crew member in charge of the humanoid development states that ‘the humanoid body is far more valuable than the human body in its basic form,’ and cites their 2 month growth cycle as far more effective for creating employees than the 20 years it takes for a human to develop into an adult. As the humanoids begin to be more self aware and hostile to their human coworkers, the interviewee states ‘we are witnessing a huge creative leap and ought properly to stand aside.’ The push for better productivity and higher profits, they assume, far outweighs the cost of crew lives as the situation is escalating into violence. ‘I may have been made, but now I’m making myself,’ one declares as the proximity to the ‘objects’ make them feel as if they were ‘been dreamt into being.’ I’m reminded of an HR study on cognitive bias that found executives are more likely to view an employee as competent or deserving of higher compensation if performance reviews use dehumanizing language to describe them in mechanistic terms rather than human terms. While we have see this desire to dehumanize the humans into mere metrics, the humanoids seem to be moving in the opposite direction. Even in terms of language, such as naming the objects:
‘My own impression is that this idiosyncratic naming process is an indication that crew members feel a need to appropriate these objects in their own way, reducing the distance between crew member and object, and establishing a form of intimacy, so to speak...scaling down its strangeness and assimilating it into a reality the individual crew members can both relate to and accept, thereby facilitating a coexistence with the found objects.’
There is this really chilling crosswave of de/humanization going on between the two increasingly alienated entities brought on by the objects that resonates similarly to the anxiety of Philip K. Dick novels. While on the topic of names, the Ravn probes the question that ‘could I be a human if you called me one?’ In a paperwork novel, is being human merely a checkbox in the paperwork? Meanwhile the human crew wonder ‘are we to love them like humans or dogs,’ and always distrustful—or possibly resentful—that they cannot die, having their memories frequently downloaded to be uploaded in another body if ever needed. While the humans mourn the memory of an Earth now lost to them, the humanoids mourn an existence they only suspect they could ever achieve.
‘I feel a similar longing to be human, as if somehow I used to be, but then lost the ability.’
In an interview with Olga Ravn, she says that ‘Actually an idea of what a human is isn’t big enough to actually hold what a human is. You get the sense you are moving in the outskirts of what a person should be, and that interested me.’ This is examined multiple ways in the novel, much like a central scale to perform jazz improvisations upon through the text. One of the most effective, and unsettling, is the way the crew experiments with the idea of the body and where it ends and begins. The objects, for example, are said to be like a hand holding a pearl, with secrets just inside that are somehow both the object and not. Proximity to the objects makes several crew members want to put them in their mouth, toying with this sort of boundary. It is also reflected in their dreams, which are often of the pores in their skin becoming enlarged and carrying small seeds within them that they scratch out endlessly. It is a terrifying image, playing on tryphobia, which is doubled in its metaphor for the way several crew members find that ‘repetitive, organic structures are unbearable,’ ie. quotidian productivity metrics and the insistence on a unified, dehumanized crew.
‘I want to be a good employee, I want to make good choices.’
This novel is both delightful and repulsive all at once, making for an experimental feast of psychological and philosophical insight. It packs in a lot for just 130pgs, which can easily be read one or two sittings as each crew statement tends to be rather brief. It is rather dreamlike, never truly touching anything or providing any concreteness, with the plot and events being read more through the umbra they cast upon the crew’s consciousness. The Employees is a heady delight that wields its fists at corporate productivity while addressing issues of transhumanism, who deserves rights and what makes us actually, fully human.
4.5/5
‘My human co-worker sometimes talks about not wanting to work, and then he’ll say something quite odd and rather silly. What is it he says now? There’s more to a person than the work they do, or A person is more than just their work? Something like that. But what else could a person be?’’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
Feb 19, 2022
Feb 22, 2022
Feb 19, 2022
Hardcover
0062951467
9780062951465
0062951467
3.70
2,150
Apr 06, 2021
Apr 06, 2021
it was amazing
‘Not one of them lived for long.
Not one of them lived lightly.’
I’ve often found that science fiction can be an incredible vessel to deliver philosophi ‘Not one of them lived for long.
Not one of them lived lightly.’
I’ve often found that science fiction can be an incredible vessel to deliver philosophical inquiries in an engaging and exciting way. I’m Waiting for You and Other Stories by South Korean author Kim Bo-Young and translated by both Sophie Bowman and Sung Ryu is this sort of book and the impact is huge. Fans of films such as The Matrix or Snowpiercer (Kim Bo-Young worked on the latter film with director Bong Joon-Ho who provides the book’s cover blurb) will find similar philosophical melodies within these stories, which managed to bestow a intellectual euphoria like the kind I thought were forever packed away in late-night contemplation-of-existence conversations after taking your PHIL101 in college. This book is genuine joy that registers on every frequency of emotional and cerebral range, tugging the heartstrings as powerfully as its abstract visions scratch the brain. While technically a collection of short stories, there are overarching themes and philosophical undertones that thread this collection together in a way that becomes more than the sum of its parts as individuality, power hierarchies, assigning meaning to life, and the gift of memory are investigated Kim Bo-Young’s brilliant landscapes of thought.
First, a huge shoutout to Emily’s amazing review that made me drop my jaw and then drop everything to get a copy. I’m Waiting for You and Other Stories is full of fun, packed with sci-fi flair, logic puzzles and a great cast of characters where some of the most ones are ship navigation computers and walls that are having existential crises. Having a few instances of art and a flashback scene printed on grey paper to add a ‘memory’ filter aesthetic to it are other elements that bring this book to life. This is one mind bending and overwhelmingly satisfying ride.
‘Without the will to live, life is meaningless.’
The book opens with an epistolary story written by a man taking a quick lightspeed trip to arrive back on Earth a short flight his time, but 4 years later Earth time (fans of This Is How You Lose the Time War take note). It’s a now-normal journey to skip time, convenient for people that say, need the market to turn around or, like the letter writer, want to speed up to his wedding while he waits for his fiance on her several-year return journey to Earth. He is tossed about by fate, with their arrivals being offset and delayed as they fast-forward through time. Economies and nations collapse, and eventually humanity collapses as the story becomes a cosmic horror of survival and loneliness adrift in space still hoping to find his fiance. The story was written, according to the author in her afterword, for a friend who wished to use it as part of his proposal. It is a strong start where love is established as the emotion to sustain us and give purpose to what seems like meaningless futility, but it is only a teaser for the ways Kim Bo-Young can dazzle us.
‘There is no perishing. Only change.’
The centerpiece, and my personal favorite part of the book, is the second, longest story, The Prophet of Corruption. The story is eastern philosophies and Korean mythology (with a helpful appendix at the end giving context and categorizing book-specific terms) as sci fi worldbuilding that dives deep into the abstract for absolute astonishment. To talk about the premise too much would spoil the fun, as it is Kim Bo-Young’s slow-burn exploration of her world and the ways she deftly captures an abstract reality in accessible and cinematic storytelling that makes you really enjoy this story. Without saying too much, it is set in what we would consider the afterlife, but we quickly learn this is the true reality. Here an entity has been dividing itself into separate consciousnesses--the Prophets who divide into their students--that send themselves to the Lower Realm--life on Earth--simply to learn. In this realm there is no need to form, gender, etc. ‘Nothing ends. Nothing perishes. Only our interpretations change,’ these Prophets teach, as all existence is but one consciousness that we all perceive as individuals. Honestly, this section is so well articulated and examined you could see it being the prototype for a new religion, though clearly taking roots in many religions around the world.
‘Learning the hard way can be meaningful too.’
The book really excels in its investigations into individuality and if we can find meaning in a singular life. Can a single life be beautiful enough to sustain eternity, or is it just a passing memory in a great infiniteness? And is it wrong to value individuality when we know it may just be pure perception.
The varying philosophies of the Prophets revolve around ideas of leisure vs labor, pain vs comfort, power vs struggle in a theme that courses in the veins of each story and each life in the book. The narrator Prophet, Naban, teaches an ascetic life characterized by suffering and struggle. His lives and students lives are those of the lowest classes, preyed upon by the wealthy and privileged lives of their sort-of rival Prophet. When their student leaves to study under the other Prophet, they ask why they were always shown they must fight the powerful and greedy, but never had any power of their own to use. ‘If you were not poor,’ Naban replies, ‘you would not think to fight them in the first place.’
‘The more pain you inflict on others, the more sympathy you lose. You forget that the Other is the same as you.’
Power hierarchies and class violence are explored most prominently in the final story, which is a response to the first and told in letter’s from the fiance. Caught adrift in time as a refugee on a ship, the crew creates a brutal hierarchy ruled by force. The story takes direct aim at the absurdly wealthy and their megalomania, with the ship’s captain planning on abandoning uneducated children on the reblooming post-apocalypse Earth to create primitive societies so that when he returns centuries later he can be revered as a God and immortalized in their myths.
The story effectively shows how victims are made to feel powerless and complicit in order to enrich the ruling class. ‘People blame themselves when their rations are reduced,’ she writes, ‘rather than whoever’s in charge.’ There is a beautifully rebellious undertone to this story of a woman determined to find her lover and let her oppressors ‘see what a forceful woman I am.’ Crew revolts and missed connections with her fiance as they skip through time add a delicious spice to this story propelled by the undying power of love and finding your “home”. It’s a story that will have you throw your fist in the air in anti-establishment solidarity and also have you weeping all within 70pgs.
Through all this we see characters determined to succeed despite odds stacked against them. There is a real championing of the human spirit here, but what seems most important is the beliefs in what drives us, be it love of another or love of all and a desire to make everything better ever for the lowest. When a life touches us, we carry a piece of them forever resonating with us in memory.
In this was we keep each other alive in our collective memory, and while one story examines the beauty of the individual, the other shows how carrying each other in ourselves is just as beautiful.
In a book where much is quite dark, it still glows in loveliness.
The interplay between the two translators, each assigned to one pair of stories, adds an exciting texture to the book. Sophie Bowman translates the first and final stories while Sung Ryu translates the middle two. The variations on voice seem to enhance our scope in English on Kim Bo-Young’s prose and it is not jarring or distracting as, say, criticisms I’ve seen levied at the single-volume English version of Haruki Murakami’s 1Q84. One thing I quite enjoyed about this edition were all the author and translator notes with the translators exchanging letters about their decisions in the spirit of the title story. A quite interesting topic here is their choices for gendered language and how to best convey a world where objects can have personalities and gender is meaningless. I love when books include these resources.
While each story stands firmly on their own, the collective vision is an incredible success. The interplay of themes are unpacked through multiple angles and the emotional punches keep us gripped the whole way. Even when it is slow, those moments are so intellectually stimulating your heart races as if it were an action scene. While separate stories, the pairs seem to align, and I’d like to believe that the lovers story is a prime example of what Naban means about a singular life being of equal beauty and value as all eternity.
5/5
‘If we don’t believe life is real, what can we ever hope to learn from it.’ ...more
Not one of them lived lightly.’
I’ve often found that science fiction can be an incredible vessel to deliver philosophi ‘Not one of them lived for long.
Not one of them lived lightly.’
I’ve often found that science fiction can be an incredible vessel to deliver philosophical inquiries in an engaging and exciting way. I’m Waiting for You and Other Stories by South Korean author Kim Bo-Young and translated by both Sophie Bowman and Sung Ryu is this sort of book and the impact is huge. Fans of films such as The Matrix or Snowpiercer (Kim Bo-Young worked on the latter film with director Bong Joon-Ho who provides the book’s cover blurb) will find similar philosophical melodies within these stories, which managed to bestow a intellectual euphoria like the kind I thought were forever packed away in late-night contemplation-of-existence conversations after taking your PHIL101 in college. This book is genuine joy that registers on every frequency of emotional and cerebral range, tugging the heartstrings as powerfully as its abstract visions scratch the brain. While technically a collection of short stories, there are overarching themes and philosophical undertones that thread this collection together in a way that becomes more than the sum of its parts as individuality, power hierarchies, assigning meaning to life, and the gift of memory are investigated Kim Bo-Young’s brilliant landscapes of thought.
First, a huge shoutout to Emily’s amazing review that made me drop my jaw and then drop everything to get a copy. I’m Waiting for You and Other Stories is full of fun, packed with sci-fi flair, logic puzzles and a great cast of characters where some of the most ones are ship navigation computers and walls that are having existential crises. Having a few instances of art and a flashback scene printed on grey paper to add a ‘memory’ filter aesthetic to it are other elements that bring this book to life. This is one mind bending and overwhelmingly satisfying ride.
‘Without the will to live, life is meaningless.’
The book opens with an epistolary story written by a man taking a quick lightspeed trip to arrive back on Earth a short flight his time, but 4 years later Earth time (fans of This Is How You Lose the Time War take note). It’s a now-normal journey to skip time, convenient for people that say, need the market to turn around or, like the letter writer, want to speed up to his wedding while he waits for his fiance on her several-year return journey to Earth. He is tossed about by fate, with their arrivals being offset and delayed as they fast-forward through time. Economies and nations collapse, and eventually humanity collapses as the story becomes a cosmic horror of survival and loneliness adrift in space still hoping to find his fiance. The story was written, according to the author in her afterword, for a friend who wished to use it as part of his proposal. It is a strong start where love is established as the emotion to sustain us and give purpose to what seems like meaningless futility, but it is only a teaser for the ways Kim Bo-Young can dazzle us.
‘There is no perishing. Only change.’
The centerpiece, and my personal favorite part of the book, is the second, longest story, The Prophet of Corruption. The story is eastern philosophies and Korean mythology (with a helpful appendix at the end giving context and categorizing book-specific terms) as sci fi worldbuilding that dives deep into the abstract for absolute astonishment. To talk about the premise too much would spoil the fun, as it is Kim Bo-Young’s slow-burn exploration of her world and the ways she deftly captures an abstract reality in accessible and cinematic storytelling that makes you really enjoy this story. Without saying too much, it is set in what we would consider the afterlife, but we quickly learn this is the true reality. Here an entity has been dividing itself into separate consciousnesses--the Prophets who divide into their students--that send themselves to the Lower Realm--life on Earth--simply to learn. In this realm there is no need to form, gender, etc. ‘Nothing ends. Nothing perishes. Only our interpretations change,’ these Prophets teach, as all existence is but one consciousness that we all perceive as individuals. Honestly, this section is so well articulated and examined you could see it being the prototype for a new religion, though clearly taking roots in many religions around the world.
‘Learning the hard way can be meaningful too.’
The book really excels in its investigations into individuality and if we can find meaning in a singular life. Can a single life be beautiful enough to sustain eternity, or is it just a passing memory in a great infiniteness? And is it wrong to value individuality when we know it may just be pure perception.
’The Lower Realm is where we learn. There’s only one purpose to both misfortune and happiness, and that’s to learn.’
The varying philosophies of the Prophets revolve around ideas of leisure vs labor, pain vs comfort, power vs struggle in a theme that courses in the veins of each story and each life in the book. The narrator Prophet, Naban, teaches an ascetic life characterized by suffering and struggle. His lives and students lives are those of the lowest classes, preyed upon by the wealthy and privileged lives of their sort-of rival Prophet. When their student leaves to study under the other Prophet, they ask why they were always shown they must fight the powerful and greedy, but never had any power of their own to use. ‘If you were not poor,’ Naban replies, ‘you would not think to fight them in the first place.’
‘The more pain you inflict on others, the more sympathy you lose. You forget that the Other is the same as you.’
Power hierarchies and class violence are explored most prominently in the final story, which is a response to the first and told in letter’s from the fiance. Caught adrift in time as a refugee on a ship, the crew creates a brutal hierarchy ruled by force. The story takes direct aim at the absurdly wealthy and their megalomania, with the ship’s captain planning on abandoning uneducated children on the reblooming post-apocalypse Earth to create primitive societies so that when he returns centuries later he can be revered as a God and immortalized in their myths.
The story effectively shows how victims are made to feel powerless and complicit in order to enrich the ruling class. ‘People blame themselves when their rations are reduced,’ she writes, ‘rather than whoever’s in charge.’ There is a beautifully rebellious undertone to this story of a woman determined to find her lover and let her oppressors ‘see what a forceful woman I am.’ Crew revolts and missed connections with her fiance as they skip through time add a delicious spice to this story propelled by the undying power of love and finding your “home”. It’s a story that will have you throw your fist in the air in anti-establishment solidarity and also have you weeping all within 70pgs.
Through all this we see characters determined to succeed despite odds stacked against them. There is a real championing of the human spirit here, but what seems most important is the beliefs in what drives us, be it love of another or love of all and a desire to make everything better ever for the lowest. When a life touches us, we carry a piece of them forever resonating with us in memory.
‘You’re alive as long as I am.
That’s why I want to keep living. To make you like. To keep you, who I love most in all the world, alive….because I’m what’s left of you.’
In this was we keep each other alive in our collective memory, and while one story examines the beauty of the individual, the other shows how carrying each other in ourselves is just as beautiful.
In a book where much is quite dark, it still glows in loveliness.
The interplay between the two translators, each assigned to one pair of stories, adds an exciting texture to the book. Sophie Bowman translates the first and final stories while Sung Ryu translates the middle two. The variations on voice seem to enhance our scope in English on Kim Bo-Young’s prose and it is not jarring or distracting as, say, criticisms I’ve seen levied at the single-volume English version of Haruki Murakami’s 1Q84. One thing I quite enjoyed about this edition were all the author and translator notes with the translators exchanging letters about their decisions in the spirit of the title story. A quite interesting topic here is their choices for gendered language and how to best convey a world where objects can have personalities and gender is meaningless. I love when books include these resources.
While each story stands firmly on their own, the collective vision is an incredible success. The interplay of themes are unpacked through multiple angles and the emotional punches keep us gripped the whole way. Even when it is slow, those moments are so intellectually stimulating your heart races as if it were an action scene. While separate stories, the pairs seem to align, and I’d like to believe that the lovers story is a prime example of what Naban means about a singular life being of equal beauty and value as all eternity.
5/5
‘If we don’t believe life is real, what can we ever hope to learn from it.’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
Apr 24, 2021
May 19, 2021
Apr 21, 2021
Hardcover
1984826565
9781984826565
B082S3BY9Y
4.20
5,732
Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020
it was amazing
‘Misogyny is typically (though not invariably) a response to a woman’s violation of gendered “law and order”’
Following her essential treatise on the n ‘Misogyny is typically (though not invariably) a response to a woman’s violation of gendered “law and order”’
Following her essential treatise on the nature of misogyny, Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny, Dr. Kate Manne is back with a collection of essays to further examine the enforcement role misogyny plays in upholding the patriarchy. This time she turns her attention specifically on male entitlement, though in doing so addresses many of the systemic aspects of patriarchal control. In her own words, ‘Entitled tackles a wide range of ways in which misogyny ¹, himpathy, and male entitlement work in tandem with other oppressive systems to produce unjust, perverse, and sometimes bizarre outcomes.’ While Down Girl, for self-imposed reasoning, tended to mostly address misogyny from a white, cis standpoint, what is really welcomed in this collection is the way the essays give opening to discussions on misogynoir--the intersection of oppression on Black identity with misogyny as coined by queer Black feminist Moya Bailey--and trans individuals. Throughout the book, Dr. Manne takes an important look at the ways male entitlement is another vile tentacle of the patriarchy and emboldened of misogyny and looks at different aspects of society in which this is omnipresent such as entitlement to knowledge, power, sex, consent, medical care, bodily control domestic labor and the intersections of these.
The book opens with a concise portrait of her image of entitlement: ‘ the widespread perception that a privileged man is owed something even as exalted as a position on the Supreme Court’. Similar to her New York Times article on Brett Kavanaugh, Manne uses his SCOTUS interviews to illustrate many of the aspects of misogyny detailed in her philosophical treatise Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny to reestablish definitions and ideas in order to further investigate them in the following chapters. To recap the definition she arrives at in her previous work, Manne describes misogyny as ‘the “law enforcement” branch of the patriarchy,’ a system that upholds patriarchal norms and polices or punishes women and girls who threaten or deviate from the norms. ‘My account of misogyny counsels us to focus less on the individual perpetrators,’ she writes, ‘and more on misogyny’s targets and victims.’ Her rationale is that ‘misogyny doesn’t require us to know what someone is feeling,’ to identify that they perpetuate misogyny and mostly that
While often using individual examples to best grasp the concepts, Manne has an extraordinary ability to demonstrate how these become larger truths indicative of a systemic and systematic oppression and skillfully examines power structures or groups--such as INCELS and the poorly termed theocratic 'Pro-Life' movement--and the way they enforce the patriarchy at the expense of cis and trans women.
There is an exquisite flow to Dr. Manne’s writing, often threading an overarching study or story through her examinations of a subject in a way that builds a sort of narrative tension compelling you to read on, gripping the book like a thriller despite the disquieting subject matter. Her style is so utterly engaging and coupled with a mastery of discourse and elegant yet direct writing that make Entitled so endlessly readable. Which is cause for celebration, since this is such an important subject and her accessibility into the topic will make it easier to approach and learn from for others. I honestly can’t applaud her enough, though--full disclosure--she is an academic hero of mine and I just really want everyone to read this book and take it to heart. Dr. Manne draws from an impressive litany of scientific studies and cultural examples--even using the viral short story Cat Person by Kristen Roupenian at one point--to reinforce her arguments as well as demonstrate the ways in which her subject matter seeps into every aspect of society. The Milgram Shock Experiment, for example--which has been used as a touchstone for examining totalitarianism for decades--is put in a new perspective here as an example of how people can be socially coached into upholding oppressive institutionalized misogyny.
On the Entitlement of Admiration really kickstarts the collection with a probing look at the Incel community and the violence perpetrated by them in the name of misogyny. This chapter opens the prospects of examining how misogyny is an aspect of a perceived hierarchy--something pop-philosophers like the disgraced Jordan Peterson have upheld specifically for the purpose of perpetuating a patriarchal society towards their own benefits--that is racially coupled with white supremacy. This section also approaches the way in which perpetrators of misogyny often shift the narrative because they ‘perceive themselves as being the vulnerable ones.’ It is through gaslighting and himpathetic support that patriarch enforcers are able to establish and maintain this narrative control, which bleeds into every aspect of entitlement discussed later in the book.
The entitlements pertaining to sex and consent are particularly of note in the #metoo era and the ways that a women’s behavior is often more regulated and explained by society than those who have inflicted sexual violence upon them. Dr. Manne frequently aims the discourse towards the methods of silencing women and efforts to decenter them from their own victimization, particularly as the disbelief of women is amplified ‘for women who are multiply marginalized, because they are Black, queer, trans, and/or disabled.’ As women are significantly less likely to be believed or listened to, even in medical situations where studies have shown women are largely dismissed as being hysterical instead of believing their actual instances of feeling pain, this leads to a normalizing issues of ‘testimonial smothering’. The term, as coined by philosopher Kristie Dotson refers to ‘where a speaker self-silences, due to her anticipating that her wod will not receive the proper uptake, and may instead place her in an “unsafe or risky” situation.’ Consider this next time an accusation of rape of assault is met with accusations dismissing them for not coming forth sooner, or--in the larger scheme of things--the ways accusations are difficult due to the himpathy and rampant misogyny that has normalized disbelief in women’s testimonies. This is especially frightening in medical situations where already most medical models use cis male bodies as a standard metric.
Of particular note is the chapter on bodily control. This begins with a damning indictment of the Pro Life movement, their often theocratic aims, and the vicious marketing campaigns that brought it to a national political discourse. Dr. Manne step by step evicerates the movement by pointing out their many hypocracies--’the anti-abortion movement is not plausibly about life. It is not plausibly about religion, either’--before turning her attention to its origins and the way it Beginning with Nixon and his “Triple A: Acid, Amnesty and Abortion” smear campaign against McGovern, Dr. Manne demonstrates how the movement was never about abortion but garnering votes via bad faith arguments ².Overall, she demonstrates how the movement is an essential misogynist weapon that removes women from ownership of their own bodies.On the double standard normalized by the movement she writes:
Dr. Manne returns to the ideas expressed in earlier chapters that entitlement and male supremacy fixates not on the idea of woman as sub-human, per say (though the Incel rhetoric may place them in this hierarchy for their own vile convenience), but because ‘even if her humanity is not in doubt, it is perceived as owed to others.’ This is a succinct wrapping of misogyny over the whole issue, coupled with the aspects of white supremacy reinforcing it due to the undeniable fact that removing the pathways to legal abortion does not, in fact, reduce the number of abortions and exponentially causes harm to marginalized individuals ‘for when pregnancies are policed it is predominantly poor and nonwhite women who are liable to pay for it--and not only with respect to access to abortion.’ This chapter alone is worth a read as legislating away women's autonomy has become a major political platform.
Dr. Manne extends this discussion to bodily control over the trans community. Citing philosopher Talia Mae Bettcher, she points out how much of the violence perpetrated against trans women is due to an entitlement of men to know what sex organs are in their pants. ‘pensis and vaginas [are] seen...as “legitimate possessions” to which males and females respectively have moral entitlements.’ On the topic of bathrooms, Dr. Manne eloquently points out that the victims in the situation are not cis women hypothetically being preyed upon by fake trans people using identity as an avenue to violence but the actual trans women who have frequently been assaulted or killed. ‘The notional victims,’ she writes about these disproven ideas of bathroom assaults by trans individuals, ‘serve as a post hoc rationalization fro the preexisting desire to police the supposed moral offender.’ Most anti-trans rhetoric is largely bad faith arguments attempting to pre-impose a belief of violence on those who are actually most likely to be the victims of violence.
Many of the threads discussed through the book culminate in the later chapter, On the Entitlement to Power, in which Dr. Manne discusses the ways that misogyny not only harms women in the workplace but in the access to political power as well. If you are to only read one essay this year, make it this chapter. Manne references studies that show ‘a marked, consistent bias towards the male leader,’ and how this all relates to socially enforced perceptions of “likeability”. ‘[S]ocial psychologists have speculated that there’s something about women who seek the highest positions of power and the most masculine-coded authority positions that people continue to find off-putting.’ Many of these same traits people disdain in women they will praise in men, and there is an added emphasis that women must be considered kind and caring. ‘When it comes to demonstrable niceness, it’s an imperative for powerful women--and seemingly inconsequential for their male rivals.’ This is run through examples from recent American politics--Dr. Manne’s incredible essay on the Elizabeth Warren campaign is a noteworthy supplement--and also misogynist attacks on New Zeeland’s Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern. This chapter is such a powerful amalgamation of the themes in the book and any voter should read it and consider how patriarchal systems perpetuate themselves through power struggles that enforce their viewpoints as the normalized reality when ‘[women] are not entitled to challenge the narrative put forward by their male counterparts.’
This is an essential read that is of vast importance in today’s society. There are many more aspects covered, such as the disparity of household duties between men and women and the mansplaining insistancy on the entitlement to knowledge that draws from the essay Men Explain Things to Me (read it here) by Rebecca Solnit. Dr. Kate Manne gives a brilliant and cutting overview in the many ways male entitlement is an oppressive force in society that harms women. In conclusion, she writes ‘although I am still far from hopeful, I am not so despairing anymore.’ The final section is a beautiful conclusion full of hope, and a necessary read for any parent, particularly those of young girls. While the obdurate patriarchal society is still at large and violently so, works such as this are a vital avenue to understanding and dismantling it.
5/5
¹ Himpathy, as defined by Dr. Manne: ‘the way powerful and privileged boys and men who commit acts of sexual violence or engage in other misogynistic behavior often receive sympathy and concern over their female victims.’ For further reading on a similar concept, this article on ‘male bumblers’ by Lili Loofbourow is an insightful read on the ways males play a ‘forgetful/unaware bumbler’ in order to wash their hands of misogyny or sexual violence.
² For further reading, it is important to consider how the Pro Life movement really took off as a deterrence towards Carter’s reelection, as discussed in this article by Politico. While many churches actively supported Row vs Wade--Southern Baptists twice drafted statements of support following the ruling--political marketers seized on abortion as a clever cover to attract evangelical voters who were upset that the IRS was threatening to remove tax exempt status for segregated schools. ...more
Following her essential treatise on the n ‘Misogyny is typically (though not invariably) a response to a woman’s violation of gendered “law and order”’
Following her essential treatise on the nature of misogyny, Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny, Dr. Kate Manne is back with a collection of essays to further examine the enforcement role misogyny plays in upholding the patriarchy. This time she turns her attention specifically on male entitlement, though in doing so addresses many of the systemic aspects of patriarchal control. In her own words, ‘Entitled tackles a wide range of ways in which misogyny ¹, himpathy, and male entitlement work in tandem with other oppressive systems to produce unjust, perverse, and sometimes bizarre outcomes.’ While Down Girl, for self-imposed reasoning, tended to mostly address misogyny from a white, cis standpoint, what is really welcomed in this collection is the way the essays give opening to discussions on misogynoir--the intersection of oppression on Black identity with misogyny as coined by queer Black feminist Moya Bailey--and trans individuals. Throughout the book, Dr. Manne takes an important look at the ways male entitlement is another vile tentacle of the patriarchy and emboldened of misogyny and looks at different aspects of society in which this is omnipresent such as entitlement to knowledge, power, sex, consent, medical care, bodily control domestic labor and the intersections of these.
The book opens with a concise portrait of her image of entitlement: ‘ the widespread perception that a privileged man is owed something even as exalted as a position on the Supreme Court’. Similar to her New York Times article on Brett Kavanaugh, Manne uses his SCOTUS interviews to illustrate many of the aspects of misogyny detailed in her philosophical treatise Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny to reestablish definitions and ideas in order to further investigate them in the following chapters. To recap the definition she arrives at in her previous work, Manne describes misogyny as ‘the “law enforcement” branch of the patriarchy,’ a system that upholds patriarchal norms and polices or punishes women and girls who threaten or deviate from the norms. ‘My account of misogyny counsels us to focus less on the individual perpetrators,’ she writes, ‘and more on misogyny’s targets and victims.’ Her rationale is that ‘misogyny doesn’t require us to know what someone is feeling,’ to identify that they perpetuate misogyny and mostly that
’misogyny may be a purely structural phenomenon, perpetuated by social institutions, policies, and broader cultural mores.’
While often using individual examples to best grasp the concepts, Manne has an extraordinary ability to demonstrate how these become larger truths indicative of a systemic and systematic oppression and skillfully examines power structures or groups--such as INCELS and the poorly termed theocratic 'Pro-Life' movement--and the way they enforce the patriarchy at the expense of cis and trans women.
There is an exquisite flow to Dr. Manne’s writing, often threading an overarching study or story through her examinations of a subject in a way that builds a sort of narrative tension compelling you to read on, gripping the book like a thriller despite the disquieting subject matter. Her style is so utterly engaging and coupled with a mastery of discourse and elegant yet direct writing that make Entitled so endlessly readable. Which is cause for celebration, since this is such an important subject and her accessibility into the topic will make it easier to approach and learn from for others. I honestly can’t applaud her enough, though--full disclosure--she is an academic hero of mine and I just really want everyone to read this book and take it to heart. Dr. Manne draws from an impressive litany of scientific studies and cultural examples--even using the viral short story Cat Person by Kristen Roupenian at one point--to reinforce her arguments as well as demonstrate the ways in which her subject matter seeps into every aspect of society. The Milgram Shock Experiment, for example--which has been used as a touchstone for examining totalitarianism for decades--is put in a new perspective here as an example of how people can be socially coached into upholding oppressive institutionalized misogyny.
On the Entitlement of Admiration really kickstarts the collection with a probing look at the Incel community and the violence perpetrated by them in the name of misogyny. This chapter opens the prospects of examining how misogyny is an aspect of a perceived hierarchy--something pop-philosophers like the disgraced Jordan Peterson have upheld specifically for the purpose of perpetuating a patriarchal society towards their own benefits--that is racially coupled with white supremacy. This section also approaches the way in which perpetrators of misogyny often shift the narrative because they ‘perceive themselves as being the vulnerable ones.’ It is through gaslighting and himpathetic support that patriarch enforcers are able to establish and maintain this narrative control, which bleeds into every aspect of entitlement discussed later in the book.
The entitlements pertaining to sex and consent are particularly of note in the #metoo era and the ways that a women’s behavior is often more regulated and explained by society than those who have inflicted sexual violence upon them. Dr. Manne frequently aims the discourse towards the methods of silencing women and efforts to decenter them from their own victimization, particularly as the disbelief of women is amplified ‘for women who are multiply marginalized, because they are Black, queer, trans, and/or disabled.’ As women are significantly less likely to be believed or listened to, even in medical situations where studies have shown women are largely dismissed as being hysterical instead of believing their actual instances of feeling pain, this leads to a normalizing issues of ‘testimonial smothering’. The term, as coined by philosopher Kristie Dotson refers to ‘where a speaker self-silences, due to her anticipating that her wod will not receive the proper uptake, and may instead place her in an “unsafe or risky” situation.’ Consider this next time an accusation of rape of assault is met with accusations dismissing them for not coming forth sooner, or--in the larger scheme of things--the ways accusations are difficult due to the himpathy and rampant misogyny that has normalized disbelief in women’s testimonies. This is especially frightening in medical situations where already most medical models use cis male bodies as a standard metric.
Of particular note is the chapter on bodily control. This begins with a damning indictment of the Pro Life movement, their often theocratic aims, and the vicious marketing campaigns that brought it to a national political discourse. Dr. Manne step by step evicerates the movement by pointing out their many hypocracies--’the anti-abortion movement is not plausibly about life. It is not plausibly about religion, either’--before turning her attention to its origins and the way it Beginning with Nixon and his “Triple A: Acid, Amnesty and Abortion” smear campaign against McGovern, Dr. Manne demonstrates how the movement was never about abortion but garnering votes via bad faith arguments ².Overall, she demonstrates how the movement is an essential misogynist weapon that removes women from ownership of their own bodies.On the double standard normalized by the movement she writes:
‘Boys will be boys, but women who get pregnant have behaved irresponsibly. We are so comfortable with regulating women’s sexual behavior, but we’re shocked by the idea of doing it to men.’
Dr. Manne returns to the ideas expressed in earlier chapters that entitlement and male supremacy fixates not on the idea of woman as sub-human, per say (though the Incel rhetoric may place them in this hierarchy for their own vile convenience), but because ‘even if her humanity is not in doubt, it is perceived as owed to others.’ This is a succinct wrapping of misogyny over the whole issue, coupled with the aspects of white supremacy reinforcing it due to the undeniable fact that removing the pathways to legal abortion does not, in fact, reduce the number of abortions and exponentially causes harm to marginalized individuals ‘for when pregnancies are policed it is predominantly poor and nonwhite women who are liable to pay for it--and not only with respect to access to abortion.’ This chapter alone is worth a read as legislating away women's autonomy has become a major political platform.
Dr. Manne extends this discussion to bodily control over the trans community. Citing philosopher Talia Mae Bettcher, she points out how much of the violence perpetrated against trans women is due to an entitlement of men to know what sex organs are in their pants. ‘pensis and vaginas [are] seen...as “legitimate possessions” to which males and females respectively have moral entitlements.’ On the topic of bathrooms, Dr. Manne eloquently points out that the victims in the situation are not cis women hypothetically being preyed upon by fake trans people using identity as an avenue to violence but the actual trans women who have frequently been assaulted or killed. ‘The notional victims,’ she writes about these disproven ideas of bathroom assaults by trans individuals, ‘serve as a post hoc rationalization fro the preexisting desire to police the supposed moral offender.’ Most anti-trans rhetoric is largely bad faith arguments attempting to pre-impose a belief of violence on those who are actually most likely to be the victims of violence.
’[T]he anti-abortion movenent’s supposed pre-occupation with life belies the fact that it undermines the health and lives of cis girls and women, along with other people who may also become pregnant. Similarly, the anti-trans movement’s supposed preoccupation with sexual safety and lives of a particularly vulnerable class of people: namely, tans girls and women, who are disproportionately liable to be attacked, assaulted, and murdered, at rates that recently prompted the American Medical Association to declare this an epidemic.’
Many of the threads discussed through the book culminate in the later chapter, On the Entitlement to Power, in which Dr. Manne discusses the ways that misogyny not only harms women in the workplace but in the access to political power as well. If you are to only read one essay this year, make it this chapter. Manne references studies that show ‘a marked, consistent bias towards the male leader,’ and how this all relates to socially enforced perceptions of “likeability”. ‘[S]ocial psychologists have speculated that there’s something about women who seek the highest positions of power and the most masculine-coded authority positions that people continue to find off-putting.’ Many of these same traits people disdain in women they will praise in men, and there is an added emphasis that women must be considered kind and caring. ‘When it comes to demonstrable niceness, it’s an imperative for powerful women--and seemingly inconsequential for their male rivals.’ This is run through examples from recent American politics--Dr. Manne’s incredible essay on the Elizabeth Warren campaign is a noteworthy supplement--and also misogynist attacks on New Zeeland’s Prime Minister, Jacinda Ardern. This chapter is such a powerful amalgamation of the themes in the book and any voter should read it and consider how patriarchal systems perpetuate themselves through power struggles that enforce their viewpoints as the normalized reality when ‘[women] are not entitled to challenge the narrative put forward by their male counterparts.’
This is an essential read that is of vast importance in today’s society. There are many more aspects covered, such as the disparity of household duties between men and women and the mansplaining insistancy on the entitlement to knowledge that draws from the essay Men Explain Things to Me (read it here) by Rebecca Solnit. Dr. Kate Manne gives a brilliant and cutting overview in the many ways male entitlement is an oppressive force in society that harms women. In conclusion, she writes ‘although I am still far from hopeful, I am not so despairing anymore.’ The final section is a beautiful conclusion full of hope, and a necessary read for any parent, particularly those of young girls. While the obdurate patriarchal society is still at large and violently so, works such as this are a vital avenue to understanding and dismantling it.
5/5
¹ Himpathy, as defined by Dr. Manne: ‘the way powerful and privileged boys and men who commit acts of sexual violence or engage in other misogynistic behavior often receive sympathy and concern over their female victims.’ For further reading on a similar concept, this article on ‘male bumblers’ by Lili Loofbourow is an insightful read on the ways males play a ‘forgetful/unaware bumbler’ in order to wash their hands of misogyny or sexual violence.
² For further reading, it is important to consider how the Pro Life movement really took off as a deterrence towards Carter’s reelection, as discussed in this article by Politico. While many churches actively supported Row vs Wade--Southern Baptists twice drafted statements of support following the ruling--political marketers seized on abortion as a clever cover to attract evangelical voters who were upset that the IRS was threatening to remove tax exempt status for segregated schools. ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Oct 20, 2020
Kindle Edition
0190604980
9780190604981
0190604980
4.21
4,414
Oct 09, 2017
Nov 08, 2017
it was amazing
Essential reading.
Kate Manne’s Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny is a brilliant philosophical treatise on misogyny and the systemic ways a patriarchal Essential reading.
Kate Manne’s Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny is a brilliant philosophical treatise on misogyny and the systemic ways a patriarchal hegemony policies, punishes and effectively controls women. This is an academic work and can be quite dense, but Manne has a gift of exploring a whole array of complex ideas in conjunction with each other in a way that is precise, informative and enlightening. This is an essential work in feminist studies, particularly with the efficiency she examines misogyny not as, necessarily, hostility towards women--this would be sexism--but as the system of control that serves a patriarchal purpose. Sexism, she proposes, justifies patriarchy as an ideology whereas misogyny enforces the patriarchy by policing women who may deviate from it.
Opening with a chapter on strangulation by men--notables such as Steve Bannon strangling his wife are used as an example--Manne moves from physical silencing of women right into systemically silencing them through social norms and institutions while demonstrating how misogyny is at the heart of this. By first canvassing traditional definitions of misogyny, Manne works to examine and expand upon the term and look at the systemic ways it encroaches upon women, often in violent ways. Misogyny, she argues, is a historically enforced idea that demands a male dominance and that all aspects of women should serve patriarchal purposes. Even non-violent or commonplace notions: ‘“Smile, sweetheart” is an ostensibly less offensive remark,’ to use one of the endless examples in the book, ‘but it is expressive of the same insidious demand that a woman’s face be emotionally legible.’ There is a sense of entitlement that is also systemic here, though that is better discussed in her next book.
This book is also noteworthy for bringing the term ‘Himpathy’ into use. Manne defines himpathy as ‘the excessive sympathy shown toward male perpetrators of sexual violence.’ The term became common use in social discussions along with Manne’s essay on rapist Brett Kavanaugh--which can be read here—as an example of himpathy. Down Girl provides many instances and demonstrates how himpathy comes to excuse bad behavior and further enable it, and how himpathy towards abusive men from women is a learned condition that is also systemic of misogyny and patriarchal power. There is a section that deals with victimization and a tendency to silence victims.
A major theme throughout looks at the way there is an economy of behavior. What is allowable in the behavior of men is often criticized in women, just look at the language used about women in the workplace or politics. Similarly, any masculinely coded perk or privilege in society is denied to women and they are strongly chastised if attempting to utilize them. This reinforces a very gendered society, one that Manne observes becomes more enforced when gender binaries start to slip or blur. Also that women are viewed as property to the male figures in their lives, that their 'personhood is held to be owed to others, in the form of service labor, love, and loyalty.' Part of the gendered economy is an expectation for women to provide unpaid labor such as but not limited to sex, emotional labor, care, houseworks, etc.
While Manne never draws the conclusion directly, a reader can’t help but connect this to the way neoliberalism, anti-feminism and misogyny go hand-in-hand and why women are punished or gaslit when demanding fair compensation, equity or even to voice annoyance in the home for doing all the unpaid household labor without much help (an essay upon this last idea makes for a very interesting chapter in her next book, Entitled: How Male Privilege Hurts Women). These ideas also culminate into a frightening reality that misogyny polices women under the assumption that they are less-than: less human, less capable, less believable and thereby not trusted with their own bodily autonomy. It is a belief that men are entitled to the bodily control of women and a demand for their subservience.
Kate Manne is upfront about the shortcomings in this work that, as a cis, hetero white woman, the treatise is focused on percisely that. She apologizes in the introduction, rationalizing that she wanted to begin by speaking to what she felt was her ability, though encourages readers to consider her words in cases of misogynoir (the intersections of misogyny and anti-Blackness) and transmisogyny.
There are many more interesting concepts discussed here, and, honestly, if you haven't read this yet you should snag a copy right now. Really do it. Drawing on a long, sad history, Manne brilliantly examines these concepts in a way that is extremely enlightening and a useful tool in shifting the paradigm in our modern world. Many of the examples used are recent and taken from major headlines, allowing it to be an easily functional social commentary as readers will already be familiar with the events and their outcomes and keeping it currently relevant also aids in keeping a reader engaged. While imperfect, it is a great voice in the conversation and I would urge anyone to read this book. ...more
Kate Manne’s Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny is a brilliant philosophical treatise on misogyny and the systemic ways a patriarchal Essential reading.
Kate Manne’s Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny is a brilliant philosophical treatise on misogyny and the systemic ways a patriarchal hegemony policies, punishes and effectively controls women. This is an academic work and can be quite dense, but Manne has a gift of exploring a whole array of complex ideas in conjunction with each other in a way that is precise, informative and enlightening. This is an essential work in feminist studies, particularly with the efficiency she examines misogyny not as, necessarily, hostility towards women--this would be sexism--but as the system of control that serves a patriarchal purpose. Sexism, she proposes, justifies patriarchy as an ideology whereas misogyny enforces the patriarchy by policing women who may deviate from it.
taking sexism to be the branch of patriarchal ideology that justifies and rationalizes a patriarchal social order, and misogyny as the system that polices and enforces its governing norms and expectations. So sexism is scientific; misogyny is moralistic. And a patriarchal order has a hegemonic quality.
Opening with a chapter on strangulation by men--notables such as Steve Bannon strangling his wife are used as an example--Manne moves from physical silencing of women right into systemically silencing them through social norms and institutions while demonstrating how misogyny is at the heart of this. By first canvassing traditional definitions of misogyny, Manne works to examine and expand upon the term and look at the systemic ways it encroaches upon women, often in violent ways. Misogyny, she argues, is a historically enforced idea that demands a male dominance and that all aspects of women should serve patriarchal purposes. Even non-violent or commonplace notions: ‘“Smile, sweetheart” is an ostensibly less offensive remark,’ to use one of the endless examples in the book, ‘but it is expressive of the same insidious demand that a woman’s face be emotionally legible.’ There is a sense of entitlement that is also systemic here, though that is better discussed in her next book.
This book is also noteworthy for bringing the term ‘Himpathy’ into use. Manne defines himpathy as ‘the excessive sympathy shown toward male perpetrators of sexual violence.’ The term became common use in social discussions along with Manne’s essay on rapist Brett Kavanaugh--which can be read here—as an example of himpathy. Down Girl provides many instances and demonstrates how himpathy comes to excuse bad behavior and further enable it, and how himpathy towards abusive men from women is a learned condition that is also systemic of misogyny and patriarchal power. There is a section that deals with victimization and a tendency to silence victims.
A major theme throughout looks at the way there is an economy of behavior. What is allowable in the behavior of men is often criticized in women, just look at the language used about women in the workplace or politics. Similarly, any masculinely coded perk or privilege in society is denied to women and they are strongly chastised if attempting to utilize them. This reinforces a very gendered society, one that Manne observes becomes more enforced when gender binaries start to slip or blur. Also that women are viewed as property to the male figures in their lives, that their 'personhood is held to be owed to others, in the form of service labor, love, and loyalty.' Part of the gendered economy is an expectation for women to provide unpaid labor such as but not limited to sex, emotional labor, care, houseworks, etc.
Her humanity may hence be held to be owed to other human beings, and her value contingent on her giving moral goods to them: life, love, pleasure, nurture, sustenance, and comfort, being some
While Manne never draws the conclusion directly, a reader can’t help but connect this to the way neoliberalism, anti-feminism and misogyny go hand-in-hand and why women are punished or gaslit when demanding fair compensation, equity or even to voice annoyance in the home for doing all the unpaid household labor without much help (an essay upon this last idea makes for a very interesting chapter in her next book, Entitled: How Male Privilege Hurts Women). These ideas also culminate into a frightening reality that misogyny polices women under the assumption that they are less-than: less human, less capable, less believable and thereby not trusted with their own bodily autonomy. It is a belief that men are entitled to the bodily control of women and a demand for their subservience.
Kate Manne is upfront about the shortcomings in this work that, as a cis, hetero white woman, the treatise is focused on percisely that. She apologizes in the introduction, rationalizing that she wanted to begin by speaking to what she felt was her ability, though encourages readers to consider her words in cases of misogynoir (the intersections of misogyny and anti-Blackness) and transmisogyny.
There are many more interesting concepts discussed here, and, honestly, if you haven't read this yet you should snag a copy right now. Really do it. Drawing on a long, sad history, Manne brilliantly examines these concepts in a way that is extremely enlightening and a useful tool in shifting the paradigm in our modern world. Many of the examples used are recent and taken from major headlines, allowing it to be an easily functional social commentary as readers will already be familiar with the events and their outcomes and keeping it currently relevant also aids in keeping a reader engaged. While imperfect, it is a great voice in the conversation and I would urge anyone to read this book. ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Sep 16, 2020
Hardcover
1613743416
9781613743416
1613743416
4.13
82,698
1972
May 01, 2012
it was amazing
‘Intelligence is the ability of a living creature to perform pointless or unnatural acts.’
While the prospect of finding intelligent life elsewhere in ‘Intelligence is the ability of a living creature to perform pointless or unnatural acts.’
While the prospect of finding intelligent life elsewhere in the universe has long captivated the human mind, we must also wonder if, when we do find it, those other beings will even bother with us. What if, perhaps, we were so insignificant on a grand scale that an alien visit would be nothing more than a a roadside picnic where we are merely ants to their stop. Such is the case in Roadside Picnic by Russian brothers Boris and Arkady Strugatsky where in the aftermath of this very scenario the earth is left with deadly “Zones” full of discarded alien refuge that people risk their lives—often dying in horrific fashion—to obtain. But will these objects be used to improve the world or be weaponized because, knowing human desires for profit and power ‘it’s possible that by randomly pulling chestnuts out of this fire, we’ll eventually stumble on something that will make life on Earth completely unbearable.’ The novel is also the basic for the 1979 cult-classic Andrei Tarkovsky film, Stalker, which draws on the set-up and several themes of the novel while taking its own philosophical journey. A tense, page-turner of a sci-fi novel that navigates philosophical and social quandaries with the grit and caustic characters of a noir, Roadside Picnic goes down with all the burn and delight of a harsh whiskey that leaves you reeling and coming back for more.
‘Intelligence is the ability to harness the powers of the surrounding world without destroying the said world.’
When I first came across this novel, I opened it intending to read just a page or two and the next thing I knew I was 40 pages deep and had barely taken a breath as the opening chapter was so intense. For as heady and ponderous the book is, the action with its blend of horror and complex noir-like underhanded dealings will keep you eagerly turning pages. A lot happens and there are many surprise twists and turns, yet at the heart it is a deeply philosophical investigation on human nature in a hellish landscape where truth and the search for a divide between good and evil is a stumble through a fog of ambiguity. All of which is playing out against a backdrop of humanity confronted with being cosmically insignificant after the most monumental moment in human history passed by without humans even being acknowledged.
‘That's the Zone for you: come back with swag, a miracle; come back alive, success; come back with a patrol bullet in your ass, good luck; and everything else - that's fate.’
Written in the Soviet Union, there is a distinct Cold War vibe permeating the novel, particularly around the topics of arms buildups and the restricted Zones where the aliens had landed being walled off. There are the “Stalkers” who sneak in at night to recover objects and sell them for profit, a high-stakes profession with a high body count and other side-effects that they only learn about once it is too late. The novel is rather episodic, spanning nearly a decade in the life of Redrick “Red” Schuhart, who works for a scientific research lab by day but over the course of the book is repeatedly pulled back into the gangster-esque underworld of the Stalkers in order to survive financially. Redrick is as hard drinking as he is hard living, dealing with the side-effects of exposure to The Zone that caused his child to be born covered in fur for which they lovingly nickname her “Monkey”, but as time passes she is slowly losing her humanity and become more animalistic. Not to mention the visit woke the dead and a zombie-like version of his dad is living in their apartment. But money talks and there is rumor of a golden sphere in The Zone that can grant wishes, but those who have used it tend to make selfish wishes or kill themselves after. But is it possible someone could wish for something to help everyone?
‘Man is born in order to think... Except that I don't believe that. I've never believed it, and I still don't believe it, and what man is born for -I have no idea. He's born, that's all. Scrapes by as best he can.’
I quite enjoy how there are so many entertaining and bizarre details to this speculative future that just pass as natural—such as the walking dead—and aren’t addressed beyond just being the way things are. The book is very much about ordinary people living in extreme times but just accepting this as the world.
We also see Redrick as a sort of anti-conformity hero, accepting the world around him but always wanting to live by his own rules and desires to get away from all the rigamarole of society. But he’s trapped by his own lack of mobility in a world ruled by power and profit, by ‘decaying capitalism and triumphant bourgeois ideology.’ He is always considering the ironies of like such as how ‘you need money so you don’t have to think about money,’ and asking himself ‘what the hell are we all running around for, anyway? To make money? But what the hell do we need money for if all we do is run around making it?’ His options for money seem decidedly immoral, such as the request to recover something known as ‘hell slime,’ an ooze that dissolved an entire lab killing most inside and will undoubtedly be used as a weapon. In such a world, he questions if there can truly be ethical living. ‘This is the way I figure it: if a man works with you, he is always working for one of you, he is a slave and nothing else,’ he says during an attempt to recruit his services, adding ‘I always wanted to be myself, on my own, so that I could spit at you all, at your boredom and despair.’ With a few escape scenes (including out a bar as well as carrying a man who’s leg has been dissolved in The Zone), a prison sentence, and plenty of moments drinking away the stress of the day while cursing at authorities, Redrick is practically a noir hero.
First serialized in Russia in 1972, this edition is a re-translation by Olena Bormashenko (here is an interesting interview on her translation) returning all the text removed by censors and includes a fascinating introduction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There is plenty of discourse on the perspective of the novel, and its Cold War attributes, being rather strangely apolitical yet still managing to touch on a lot of issues the ordinary person would consider during these times. For one, the Zones and the wall around them calls to mind the Berlin Wall and one could interpret the alien artifacts to be symbolic of Western culture and goods that would be smuggled back into Soviet territory. Additionally, some have argued the representation of capitalism in the novel could represent Soviet sensibilities, though this seems shoehorning an interpretation since critiquing the evils of capitalism is hardly uniquely Soviet even at the time.
This did, however, aid in the novel avoiding censorship, as Boris Stugatsky has noted ‘it was quite ideologically appropriate and certainly not dangerous’ to Soviet censors, and the bits that were removed were more about language and “immoral behaviors”. On the other hand, Roland Boer discusses in his book Knockin' on Heaven's Door that the brothers being blacklisted for an unauthorized East German publication of their novel The Ugly Swans led many in the West to embrace them as Soviet dissidents and brought them into wide translation, though Boer argues this is a misinterpretation of their politics as well. In the introduction, Le Guin argues they are, instead, ‘indifferent to ideology’ and that looking for a Cold War political divide in their books or in glorifying them as smuggling Soviet critiques through science fiction is to miss the point:
Perhaps this is what makes this book so effortlessly invigorating and engaging: it is a look at humanity at a struggle against abuse of power and cosmic indifference without needing to divide into political camps and instead hope for the success of people instead of our destruction by those who seek to divide. Which there is plenty of here, particularly when Redrick knows governments want to obtain the ‘hell slime’ in order to weaponize it for war. ‘ And it’s not because they are more clever and cunning than we are. The world is just like that,’ the Strugatsky’s write, ‘Man is like that. If it wasn’t the Visit, it would have been something else. Pigs can always find mud.’ Someone is always paying for power, and there will always be someone to accept the payments even at risk of their own life. It seems society has cornered people in poverty and harsh conditions to ensure the supply of these folks is unending. Just look at the quick flash of arguments against minor student loan repayment aid in the US whining that it will lower military enlistment.
‘We merely don’t understand a thing, but they at least understand how much they don’t understand.’
A primary theme in Roadside Picnic is our limits of knowledge and how that also plays into the obfuscation between what is good or evil. We have teams of scientists trying to learn what the Zone objects do and how to use them, occasionally finding uses for power sources and occasionally realizing they could be a devastating weapon. An incredible centerpiece in the novel is a discussion between one character and the scientist who’s radio broadcast about the alien visit begins the novel, a discussion that covers the meaning of intelligence, our minimal purpose in a vast universe and the hate of humanity as a whole. There is hope, however, that humanity will weather any storm, but the tragedy that many often die in order to get there.
Which leads us to the incredible final section of the book where Redrick is seeking the wish-fulfilling object. It becomes a marvelous parable on ethics, particularly as to reach the orb and make a wish, a human sacrifice is required. In this case, it is a rather innocent youth who is seeking the orb to wish for the salvation of all humanity which becomes a pretty grim moment that reminds me of the ways society often looks down at young activists. Can one who is able to obtain the orb and have their deepest wish be read by it actually have a wish for mass goodness in their heart? It also reminds me how frequently human sacrifice to curry the favor of the gods (and what is a wish-granting machine if not godlike) occurs in the history of human literature, from the story of Abraham and Isaac to Agamemnon murdering Iphigenia to appease the gods for good sailing weather. Curiously, the Book of Revelations is alluded to frequently in the novel, such as the resurrection of the dead and other “demonic” miracles, and the character Gutalin is quick to mention the objects as satanic and warn ‘the pale horse has been saddled,’ and that ‘thou, of human flesh, whom Satan has seduced, who play with his toys and covert his treasures,’ referring to The Zone.
The end is abrupt, yet beautifully so as ambiguity and interpretability is one of Roadside Picnic’s greatest strengths. It also lends itself to the beauty of the film adaptation, Stalker, which is largely concerned with the wish-granting golden orb and what truly lurks in the hearts of people as their greatest wishes. The film is shot in Estonia and primarily outside an abandoned hydroelectric plant and has incredibly powerful imagery in long shots (this edition of the book even uses a still from the film as the cover). The film imagery frequently draws comparisons to the zone around Chernobyl, though the disaster would happen several years after the film. Interestingly enough, following the success of the film and book the term Stalker became a popular neologism in Russia for people who guide others into dangerous or restricted areas.
[image]
Stalker (1979)--Watch the trailer
I cannot recommend Roadside Picnic enough. This book comes swinging and lands each blow with such power and philosophical impact that I can’t help but love it. Imaginative, gritty, thought provoking and even rather humorous at times, this is certainly a favorite sci fi and book overall. Enter the Zone if you dare, and keep your wits about you.
5/5
‘Look into my soul, I know - everything you need is in there. It has to be. Because I've never sold my soul to anyone! It's mine, it's human! Figure out yourself what I want - because I know it can't be bad! The hell with it all, I just can't think of a thing other than those words of his - HAPPINESS, FREE, FOR EVERYONE, AND LET NO ONE BE FORGOTTEN!’ ...more
While the prospect of finding intelligent life elsewhere in ‘Intelligence is the ability of a living creature to perform pointless or unnatural acts.’
While the prospect of finding intelligent life elsewhere in the universe has long captivated the human mind, we must also wonder if, when we do find it, those other beings will even bother with us. What if, perhaps, we were so insignificant on a grand scale that an alien visit would be nothing more than a a roadside picnic where we are merely ants to their stop. Such is the case in Roadside Picnic by Russian brothers Boris and Arkady Strugatsky where in the aftermath of this very scenario the earth is left with deadly “Zones” full of discarded alien refuge that people risk their lives—often dying in horrific fashion—to obtain. But will these objects be used to improve the world or be weaponized because, knowing human desires for profit and power ‘it’s possible that by randomly pulling chestnuts out of this fire, we’ll eventually stumble on something that will make life on Earth completely unbearable.’ The novel is also the basic for the 1979 cult-classic Andrei Tarkovsky film, Stalker, which draws on the set-up and several themes of the novel while taking its own philosophical journey. A tense, page-turner of a sci-fi novel that navigates philosophical and social quandaries with the grit and caustic characters of a noir, Roadside Picnic goes down with all the burn and delight of a harsh whiskey that leaves you reeling and coming back for more.
‘Intelligence is the ability to harness the powers of the surrounding world without destroying the said world.’
When I first came across this novel, I opened it intending to read just a page or two and the next thing I knew I was 40 pages deep and had barely taken a breath as the opening chapter was so intense. For as heady and ponderous the book is, the action with its blend of horror and complex noir-like underhanded dealings will keep you eagerly turning pages. A lot happens and there are many surprise twists and turns, yet at the heart it is a deeply philosophical investigation on human nature in a hellish landscape where truth and the search for a divide between good and evil is a stumble through a fog of ambiguity. All of which is playing out against a backdrop of humanity confronted with being cosmically insignificant after the most monumental moment in human history passed by without humans even being acknowledged.
‘That's the Zone for you: come back with swag, a miracle; come back alive, success; come back with a patrol bullet in your ass, good luck; and everything else - that's fate.’
Written in the Soviet Union, there is a distinct Cold War vibe permeating the novel, particularly around the topics of arms buildups and the restricted Zones where the aliens had landed being walled off. There are the “Stalkers” who sneak in at night to recover objects and sell them for profit, a high-stakes profession with a high body count and other side-effects that they only learn about once it is too late. The novel is rather episodic, spanning nearly a decade in the life of Redrick “Red” Schuhart, who works for a scientific research lab by day but over the course of the book is repeatedly pulled back into the gangster-esque underworld of the Stalkers in order to survive financially. Redrick is as hard drinking as he is hard living, dealing with the side-effects of exposure to The Zone that caused his child to be born covered in fur for which they lovingly nickname her “Monkey”, but as time passes she is slowly losing her humanity and become more animalistic. Not to mention the visit woke the dead and a zombie-like version of his dad is living in their apartment. But money talks and there is rumor of a golden sphere in The Zone that can grant wishes, but those who have used it tend to make selfish wishes or kill themselves after. But is it possible someone could wish for something to help everyone?
‘Man is born in order to think... Except that I don't believe that. I've never believed it, and I still don't believe it, and what man is born for -I have no idea. He's born, that's all. Scrapes by as best he can.’
I quite enjoy how there are so many entertaining and bizarre details to this speculative future that just pass as natural—such as the walking dead—and aren’t addressed beyond just being the way things are. The book is very much about ordinary people living in extreme times but just accepting this as the world.
‘Screw the years—we don’t notice things change. We know that things change, we’ve been told since childhood that things change, we’ve witnessed things change ourselves many a time, and yet we’re still utterly incapable of noticing the moment that change comes—or we search for change in all the wrong places.’
We also see Redrick as a sort of anti-conformity hero, accepting the world around him but always wanting to live by his own rules and desires to get away from all the rigamarole of society. But he’s trapped by his own lack of mobility in a world ruled by power and profit, by ‘decaying capitalism and triumphant bourgeois ideology.’ He is always considering the ironies of like such as how ‘you need money so you don’t have to think about money,’ and asking himself ‘what the hell are we all running around for, anyway? To make money? But what the hell do we need money for if all we do is run around making it?’ His options for money seem decidedly immoral, such as the request to recover something known as ‘hell slime,’ an ooze that dissolved an entire lab killing most inside and will undoubtedly be used as a weapon. In such a world, he questions if there can truly be ethical living. ‘This is the way I figure it: if a man works with you, he is always working for one of you, he is a slave and nothing else,’ he says during an attempt to recruit his services, adding ‘I always wanted to be myself, on my own, so that I could spit at you all, at your boredom and despair.’ With a few escape scenes (including out a bar as well as carrying a man who’s leg has been dissolved in The Zone), a prison sentence, and plenty of moments drinking away the stress of the day while cursing at authorities, Redrick is practically a noir hero.
First serialized in Russia in 1972, this edition is a re-translation by Olena Bormashenko (here is an interesting interview on her translation) returning all the text removed by censors and includes a fascinating introduction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There is plenty of discourse on the perspective of the novel, and its Cold War attributes, being rather strangely apolitical yet still managing to touch on a lot of issues the ordinary person would consider during these times. For one, the Zones and the wall around them calls to mind the Berlin Wall and one could interpret the alien artifacts to be symbolic of Western culture and goods that would be smuggled back into Soviet territory. Additionally, some have argued the representation of capitalism in the novel could represent Soviet sensibilities, though this seems shoehorning an interpretation since critiquing the evils of capitalism is hardly uniquely Soviet even at the time.
This did, however, aid in the novel avoiding censorship, as Boris Stugatsky has noted ‘it was quite ideologically appropriate and certainly not dangerous’ to Soviet censors, and the bits that were removed were more about language and “immoral behaviors”. On the other hand, Roland Boer discusses in his book Knockin' on Heaven's Door that the brothers being blacklisted for an unauthorized East German publication of their novel The Ugly Swans led many in the West to embrace them as Soviet dissidents and brought them into wide translation, though Boer argues this is a misinterpretation of their politics as well. In the introduction, Le Guin argues they are, instead, ‘indifferent to ideology’ and that looking for a Cold War political divide in their books or in glorifying them as smuggling Soviet critiques through science fiction is to miss the point:
‘Bureaucrats and politicians, who can’t afford to cultivate their imaginations, tend to assume it’s all ray-guns and nonsense, good for children. A writer may have to be as blatantly critical of utopia as Zamyatin in We to bring the censor down upon him. The Strugatsky brothers were not blatant, and never (to my limited knowledge) directly critical of their government’s policies. What they did, which I found most admirable then and still do now, was to write as if they were indifferent to ideology—something many of us writers in the Western democracies had a hard time doing. They wrote as free men write.’
Perhaps this is what makes this book so effortlessly invigorating and engaging: it is a look at humanity at a struggle against abuse of power and cosmic indifference without needing to divide into political camps and instead hope for the success of people instead of our destruction by those who seek to divide. Which there is plenty of here, particularly when Redrick knows governments want to obtain the ‘hell slime’ in order to weaponize it for war. ‘ And it’s not because they are more clever and cunning than we are. The world is just like that,’ the Strugatsky’s write, ‘Man is like that. If it wasn’t the Visit, it would have been something else. Pigs can always find mud.’ Someone is always paying for power, and there will always be someone to accept the payments even at risk of their own life. It seems society has cornered people in poverty and harsh conditions to ensure the supply of these folks is unending. Just look at the quick flash of arguments against minor student loan repayment aid in the US whining that it will lower military enlistment.
‘We merely don’t understand a thing, but they at least understand how much they don’t understand.’
A primary theme in Roadside Picnic is our limits of knowledge and how that also plays into the obfuscation between what is good or evil. We have teams of scientists trying to learn what the Zone objects do and how to use them, occasionally finding uses for power sources and occasionally realizing they could be a devastating weapon. An incredible centerpiece in the novel is a discussion between one character and the scientist who’s radio broadcast about the alien visit begins the novel, a discussion that covers the meaning of intelligence, our minimal purpose in a vast universe and the hate of humanity as a whole. There is hope, however, that humanity will weather any storm, but the tragedy that many often die in order to get there.
Which leads us to the incredible final section of the book where Redrick is seeking the wish-fulfilling object. It becomes a marvelous parable on ethics, particularly as to reach the orb and make a wish, a human sacrifice is required. In this case, it is a rather innocent youth who is seeking the orb to wish for the salvation of all humanity which becomes a pretty grim moment that reminds me of the ways society often looks down at young activists. Can one who is able to obtain the orb and have their deepest wish be read by it actually have a wish for mass goodness in their heart? It also reminds me how frequently human sacrifice to curry the favor of the gods (and what is a wish-granting machine if not godlike) occurs in the history of human literature, from the story of Abraham and Isaac to Agamemnon murdering Iphigenia to appease the gods for good sailing weather. Curiously, the Book of Revelations is alluded to frequently in the novel, such as the resurrection of the dead and other “demonic” miracles, and the character Gutalin is quick to mention the objects as satanic and warn ‘the pale horse has been saddled,’ and that ‘thou, of human flesh, whom Satan has seduced, who play with his toys and covert his treasures,’ referring to The Zone.
The end is abrupt, yet beautifully so as ambiguity and interpretability is one of Roadside Picnic’s greatest strengths. It also lends itself to the beauty of the film adaptation, Stalker, which is largely concerned with the wish-granting golden orb and what truly lurks in the hearts of people as their greatest wishes. The film is shot in Estonia and primarily outside an abandoned hydroelectric plant and has incredibly powerful imagery in long shots (this edition of the book even uses a still from the film as the cover). The film imagery frequently draws comparisons to the zone around Chernobyl, though the disaster would happen several years after the film. Interestingly enough, following the success of the film and book the term Stalker became a popular neologism in Russia for people who guide others into dangerous or restricted areas.
[image]
Stalker (1979)--Watch the trailer
I cannot recommend Roadside Picnic enough. This book comes swinging and lands each blow with such power and philosophical impact that I can’t help but love it. Imaginative, gritty, thought provoking and even rather humorous at times, this is certainly a favorite sci fi and book overall. Enter the Zone if you dare, and keep your wits about you.
5/5
‘Look into my soul, I know - everything you need is in there. It has to be. Because I've never sold my soul to anyone! It's mine, it's human! Figure out yourself what I want - because I know it can't be bad! The hell with it all, I just can't think of a thing other than those words of his - HAPPINESS, FREE, FOR EVERYONE, AND LET NO ONE BE FORGOTTEN!’ ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Apr 20, 2019
Paperback
0393328791
9780393328790
0393328791
3.77
172
2005
Apr 17, 2006
liked it
‘There is nothing outside the text’
Much like an introductory lecture for a new course, How to Read Derrida serves as an engaging, general overview of ‘There is nothing outside the text’
Much like an introductory lecture for a new course, How to Read Derrida serves as an engaging, general overview of the many ideas examined by the great French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) for those who will proceed into the actual works and words of the man. The final bit of that sentence is of utmost importance, as the nature of Derrida’s works makes it crucial to tackle the actual documents head on in order to reach for a more proper understanding. Having been advised against reading a ‘general overview’¹ for reasons that will be lighted upon shortly, this book was a beneficial preliminary study as I awaited the arrive of Derrida’s Writing and Difference in the mail, being a sort of basic lecture, a rough sketched map to assist in finding my bearings in the Derrida’s dense texts when I would finally be able to step through their intimidating gates.² In short, this book is a great way to know how to stay afloat when thrown into the deep end.
The pitfalls of this book are made apparent in Derrida’s own theories. A blunt, unpolished summary of Derrida’s deconstruction would surround his denial of purity and that we can often decode a misplaced assertion of and ideal or purity in many arguments. These ideals are an argument’s undoing, and deconstructions serves as an intervention to expose these illegitimate ideals that a statement is built upon (I apologize that this is a very rough outline of ideas, however, a more in depth discussion will be better placed in a review of Derrida’s actual books, so bear with me. For a better outline, perhaps explore his Wikipedia article). Following this denial of purity would include the impossibility of any total understanding of Derrida’s works, or of any work for that matter. Passing from Derrida through Penelope Deutscher, who, to her credit, does a marvelous job of digesting such difficult topics and regurgitating them in an accessible manner, (and now through me to you) now presents an interpretation of an interpretation of a written interpretation of his ideas, picking up impurities and other personal reflections that taint the original message which was never pure to begin with. In effect, this book is a supplement to Derrida’s own works – supplement, mind you, connoting some sort of plentitude, which would imply there is some sort of deficiency in which this supplement wishes to complement. ‘Supplement’ is itself a term used by Jean-Jacques Rousseau that Derrida argues is an ‘undecidable’, which, in Deutscher’s words, ‘is a term…that does not fit comfortably into either of the two poles of a binary opposition…supplement is neither plentitude nor deficiency.’ Plainly speaking, although complete understanding of Derrida’s deconstruction is inherently impossible on the theories own grounds, any movement away from the original text takes us further away from understanding. However, it might be apparent that there are contradictions in the preceeding statement, as it would impose a sort of ideal upon Derrida’s original texts. You may be beginning to understand the complications of examining Derrida and the intensely self-conscious attitudes it imposes on anyone attempting to explain it.
Now, as an 'undecidable' is a term between plentitude and deficiency, Derrida also heavily uses différence, an untranslatable term for something between presence and absence. It is a ‘kind of absence that generates the effect of presence. It is neither identity, nor difference. Instead, it is a kind of differentiation that produces the effect of identity and of difference between those identities’ (Deutscher). This idea stems from a critique on Ferdinand de Saussure’s Course in General Linguistics in which Saussure concludes that language is constructed of elements called ‘signs’ which appear to be present but are actually not and are only given meaning by their relationship with other signs.
All that aside, there are things I truly enjoy about Derrida. A major cornerstone to Derrida is that he uses his theories to examine the works of others in an attempt to uncover some new or underlying meaning. Much of what he set out to accomplish in the initial stages has to do with his dislike for logocentrism. Derrida, in Of Grammatology, his groundbreaking work into deconstructionism that this books first few chapters primarily covers (another reason for choosing this book was to get an overview of Grammatology as a ‘supplement’ of my deficiencies in tackling W&D without having read that work first), examines Plato’s insistence on spoken word to be superior to the written word. Plato (and not just Plato – Saussure, among others, also heavily implied this belief, and Derrida’s opposition to Saussure on this matter could be looked at as a large player in his critiques on structuralism, however, I do not have the knowledge to fully explore that anytime soon) is shown as giving the spoken word up as some sort of ideal, and Derrida comments how this ideal is faulty and that many of the given deficiencies of the written word are also present in the spoken word. Another aspect I really enjoy of Derrida is the way he puts his theories to use in the social and political field, offering a view that exposes much illogical thinking, bigotry, and also lending a cautionary message to any sort of organization. Derrida, as presented by Deutscher, has a dislike for any assertion of identity, especially purity in identity of any given group (culture/political party/etc), and believes that any group must inevitably be forever split into smaller and smaller groups (a rejection yet assertion of individualism, however, carefully never reaching any ultimate purity) because all groups must have differing ideas at some level otherwise they run the risk of authoritarianism. His ideas have been used to explore gender, culture, politics, and can basically be applied to anything to help gain what he saw as a more realistic, centered and legitimate opinion. There are many examples provided for intervening in attacks or legislation against homosexuality, forcing one who takes such an opinion to really examine why they believe what they do and attempt to eventually break everything down to some impossible ideal that nullifies their argument (Derrida was a strong advocate of gay right, the feminist movement – although he cautioned that it could easily tip into the sort of misplaced thinking that it rallied against, and often spoke on behalf of difficult political topics). Another bit that I commend Derrida for is that he was not afraid to examine his own ideas through Deconstructionism, which lead to his beliefs being always modified. Deutscher brushes on the alterations of his political and cultural beliefs, particularly those concerning hospitality, mourning (death of close friends played into his deeper look at mourning), and legal justice. A reader should be cautioned that reading an overview of Derrida could give an inaccurate depiction of his ideas because they were always subject to alteration (thank you Nathan for cautioning me this way, even though I went ahead and read an overview anyways to produce a review full of contradictions. However, isn't Derrida about examining inevitable contradictions anyways?)
What makes Derrida so wonderful to me is his method is a great defense, especially in touchy subjects. Following deconstruction, you can argue against something you disagree with without ever betraying your own opinion and instead critiquing what the other person is attempt to assert and exposing the faulty ideals present. It also seems to be a beneficial tool for teachers in a classroom, a method of playing devils advocate to force a student to really understand why they believe something and to challenge them to work for their opinions. This book is a great way to get your feet wet, however, it would be a great disservice to the ideas and to yourself to stop here and not proceed into Derrida’s works (although, once again, I admit to claiming some ideal while self-consciously admitting to it in order to distract – Derrida and DFW read at the same time causes an intense introspective spiral that is both lovely and frightening) . Deutscher does provide great quotes from Derrida to explore, yet this could have been done much, much more (especially as the introduction toots its own horn for using Derrida quotes to supplement their work [supplement their deficiencies! See, you learned something!]). All in all, a great brief introduction, a great set of notes to refer to when getting to the homework back away from the safety of accessible classroom-like explanation, and a great spring board to motivate yourself into a better linguistic awareness through Derrida.
3/5
¹ Note the use of quotation marks around the words 'general overview'. Would, like in the discussion of Bergotte in Proust's Swann's Way, it show that I 'took care to isolate it in a tone of voice that was particularly mechanical and ironic, as though he had put it between quotations marks, seeming not to want to take responsibility for it, as though saying ['general overview'] you know, as it is called by silly people? But then if it was so silly, why did he say [it].' Hmmm...
² Or, perhaps, seeing as Dostoevsky's Underground Man is a bit of a literary 'anti-hero' of mine, did I simply do what I was advised not to do following human nature to do wrong simply because I can? ...more
Much like an introductory lecture for a new course, How to Read Derrida serves as an engaging, general overview of ‘There is nothing outside the text’
Much like an introductory lecture for a new course, How to Read Derrida serves as an engaging, general overview of the many ideas examined by the great French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) for those who will proceed into the actual works and words of the man. The final bit of that sentence is of utmost importance, as the nature of Derrida’s works makes it crucial to tackle the actual documents head on in order to reach for a more proper understanding. Having been advised against reading a ‘general overview’¹ for reasons that will be lighted upon shortly, this book was a beneficial preliminary study as I awaited the arrive of Derrida’s Writing and Difference in the mail, being a sort of basic lecture, a rough sketched map to assist in finding my bearings in the Derrida’s dense texts when I would finally be able to step through their intimidating gates.² In short, this book is a great way to know how to stay afloat when thrown into the deep end.
The pitfalls of this book are made apparent in Derrida’s own theories. A blunt, unpolished summary of Derrida’s deconstruction would surround his denial of purity and that we can often decode a misplaced assertion of and ideal or purity in many arguments. These ideals are an argument’s undoing, and deconstructions serves as an intervention to expose these illegitimate ideals that a statement is built upon (I apologize that this is a very rough outline of ideas, however, a more in depth discussion will be better placed in a review of Derrida’s actual books, so bear with me. For a better outline, perhaps explore his Wikipedia article). Following this denial of purity would include the impossibility of any total understanding of Derrida’s works, or of any work for that matter. Passing from Derrida through Penelope Deutscher, who, to her credit, does a marvelous job of digesting such difficult topics and regurgitating them in an accessible manner, (and now through me to you) now presents an interpretation of an interpretation of a written interpretation of his ideas, picking up impurities and other personal reflections that taint the original message which was never pure to begin with. In effect, this book is a supplement to Derrida’s own works – supplement, mind you, connoting some sort of plentitude, which would imply there is some sort of deficiency in which this supplement wishes to complement. ‘Supplement’ is itself a term used by Jean-Jacques Rousseau that Derrida argues is an ‘undecidable’, which, in Deutscher’s words, ‘is a term…that does not fit comfortably into either of the two poles of a binary opposition…supplement is neither plentitude nor deficiency.’ Plainly speaking, although complete understanding of Derrida’s deconstruction is inherently impossible on the theories own grounds, any movement away from the original text takes us further away from understanding. However, it might be apparent that there are contradictions in the preceeding statement, as it would impose a sort of ideal upon Derrida’s original texts. You may be beginning to understand the complications of examining Derrida and the intensely self-conscious attitudes it imposes on anyone attempting to explain it.
Now, as an 'undecidable' is a term between plentitude and deficiency, Derrida also heavily uses différence, an untranslatable term for something between presence and absence. It is a ‘kind of absence that generates the effect of presence. It is neither identity, nor difference. Instead, it is a kind of differentiation that produces the effect of identity and of difference between those identities’ (Deutscher). This idea stems from a critique on Ferdinand de Saussure’s Course in General Linguistics in which Saussure concludes that language is constructed of elements called ‘signs’ which appear to be present but are actually not and are only given meaning by their relationship with other signs.
’we discover not ideas given in advance but valuesemanating from the linguistic system…. [T]hese concepts are purely differential, not positively defined by their content but negatively defined by their relations with other terms of the system. Their most precise characteristic is that they are what the others are not’Derrida plays with these differential movements of language, showing how a term is never fixed and constantly ‘deferred’ through other terms (Deutscher gives an example lifted from Saussure of how the definition of a dog can send you endlessly leafing through a dictionary through the SEE ALSO: ‘s and to look up the definition of each word in the original definition, follow through any figurative uses of the word, etc.), making différence the 'infinite passages' between words. In short, identity is therefor an illegitimate ideal since any insistence of identity, any true difference, is actually just through a varying level of différence. In order to better understand a belief, we must then swap the binaries, make low what is asserted as high, and vice versa (a really interesting technique that is sort of like alternating from positive to negative connotations) in order to examine the différence between these ideas and expose how they are actually inseperable from one another (an example provided is that a racist culture seeing themselves as superior to another relies on a given relation with the ideas of the other culture. John Searle, among others, disliked such a technique, arguing that ‘one could argue the rich are actually poor and white is actually black’ based on these premises. One is rich on what grounds?, etc.) Which is essentially what makes a review of a work of this nature difficult, as it can only examine the différence implicit in what I relay to you, what Derrida can relay to you, and what Deutscher relays in her book. It leaves this review open to such penetrating critiques, however, I’ve taken a brief moment to examine those ideas at a purely surface and ultimately flawed level for the sake of discussing not why such a review is illegitimate, but as to overview how to discuss the why and what of the review.
-Saussure, 1974
All that aside, there are things I truly enjoy about Derrida. A major cornerstone to Derrida is that he uses his theories to examine the works of others in an attempt to uncover some new or underlying meaning. Much of what he set out to accomplish in the initial stages has to do with his dislike for logocentrism. Derrida, in Of Grammatology, his groundbreaking work into deconstructionism that this books first few chapters primarily covers (another reason for choosing this book was to get an overview of Grammatology as a ‘supplement’ of my deficiencies in tackling W&D without having read that work first), examines Plato’s insistence on spoken word to be superior to the written word. Plato (and not just Plato – Saussure, among others, also heavily implied this belief, and Derrida’s opposition to Saussure on this matter could be looked at as a large player in his critiques on structuralism, however, I do not have the knowledge to fully explore that anytime soon) is shown as giving the spoken word up as some sort of ideal, and Derrida comments how this ideal is faulty and that many of the given deficiencies of the written word are also present in the spoken word. Another aspect I really enjoy of Derrida is the way he puts his theories to use in the social and political field, offering a view that exposes much illogical thinking, bigotry, and also lending a cautionary message to any sort of organization. Derrida, as presented by Deutscher, has a dislike for any assertion of identity, especially purity in identity of any given group (culture/political party/etc), and believes that any group must inevitably be forever split into smaller and smaller groups (a rejection yet assertion of individualism, however, carefully never reaching any ultimate purity) because all groups must have differing ideas at some level otherwise they run the risk of authoritarianism. His ideas have been used to explore gender, culture, politics, and can basically be applied to anything to help gain what he saw as a more realistic, centered and legitimate opinion. There are many examples provided for intervening in attacks or legislation against homosexuality, forcing one who takes such an opinion to really examine why they believe what they do and attempt to eventually break everything down to some impossible ideal that nullifies their argument (Derrida was a strong advocate of gay right, the feminist movement – although he cautioned that it could easily tip into the sort of misplaced thinking that it rallied against, and often spoke on behalf of difficult political topics). Another bit that I commend Derrida for is that he was not afraid to examine his own ideas through Deconstructionism, which lead to his beliefs being always modified. Deutscher brushes on the alterations of his political and cultural beliefs, particularly those concerning hospitality, mourning (death of close friends played into his deeper look at mourning), and legal justice. A reader should be cautioned that reading an overview of Derrida could give an inaccurate depiction of his ideas because they were always subject to alteration (thank you Nathan for cautioning me this way, even though I went ahead and read an overview anyways to produce a review full of contradictions. However, isn't Derrida about examining inevitable contradictions anyways?)
What makes Derrida so wonderful to me is his method is a great defense, especially in touchy subjects. Following deconstruction, you can argue against something you disagree with without ever betraying your own opinion and instead critiquing what the other person is attempt to assert and exposing the faulty ideals present. It also seems to be a beneficial tool for teachers in a classroom, a method of playing devils advocate to force a student to really understand why they believe something and to challenge them to work for their opinions. This book is a great way to get your feet wet, however, it would be a great disservice to the ideas and to yourself to stop here and not proceed into Derrida’s works (although, once again, I admit to claiming some ideal while self-consciously admitting to it in order to distract – Derrida and DFW read at the same time causes an intense introspective spiral that is both lovely and frightening) . Deutscher does provide great quotes from Derrida to explore, yet this could have been done much, much more (especially as the introduction toots its own horn for using Derrida quotes to supplement their work [supplement their deficiencies! See, you learned something!]). All in all, a great brief introduction, a great set of notes to refer to when getting to the homework back away from the safety of accessible classroom-like explanation, and a great spring board to motivate yourself into a better linguistic awareness through Derrida.
3/5
¹ Note the use of quotation marks around the words 'general overview'. Would, like in the discussion of Bergotte in Proust's Swann's Way, it show that I 'took care to isolate it in a tone of voice that was particularly mechanical and ironic, as though he had put it between quotations marks, seeming not to want to take responsibility for it, as though saying ['general overview'] you know, as it is called by silly people? But then if it was so silly, why did he say [it].' Hmmm...
² Or, perhaps, seeing as Dostoevsky's Underground Man is a bit of a literary 'anti-hero' of mine, did I simply do what I was advised not to do following human nature to do wrong simply because I can? ...more
Notes are private!
1
not set
not set
Jan 20, 2013
Paperback
0804746206
9780804746205
0804746206
4.02
132
Oct 08, 2001
Sep 23, 2005
really liked it
‘A language might also be compared to a sheet of paper. Thought is one side of the sheet and sound the reverse side.’
-Ferdinand de Saussure
Although De ‘A language might also be compared to a sheet of paper. Thought is one side of the sheet and sound the reverse side.’
-Ferdinand de Saussure
Although Derrida comments how Saussure ‘vigorously excluded writing from language’, he also notes that Saussure still viewed paper as a viable metaphor for language. In Paper Machine, the heart of the essays revolve around paper as a multimedia device that works as an extension of language, and the implications of an online future with regards to paper. Comprised of both essays and interviews, the latter being something Derrida mentions disliking yet being roped into so often throughout the years that he has become used to them, Derrida covers several discussions on paper, as well as politics, immigration and French philosophy. Often difficult, and heavily reliant on prior knowledge of the many thinkers he references, this book offers a wonderful overview of many of Derrida’s lines of thought, as well as an interesting investigation into paper and all it’s various meanings.
I first experienced Derrida my sophomore year in the course ‘Technology and Writing’ in which we examined the effects of technology – such paper, word processors, and different writing tools – on the written word and it’s construction. After reading a brief piece from Derrida detailing the alterations in Nietzsche’s thought and style when he moved from writing with pen and paper to using a typewriter (Derrida argues for a more direct, more immediate style and tone, as well as his writing becoming more concise), we were assigned to write several different sentences using any technology normally not associated with writing tools. I turned in a sheet of rock with ‘I am out of ketchup’ written on it in mustard and a picture of the words ‘This took me forever’ written out on the pavement with Skittles candy. The lesson was that different tools affected what we wrote and how we would say things; the more difficult it was to write something out tended to lead to shorter sentences. Derrida explores the implications of better technology by examining the process of writing on a computer. In his piece The Word Processor contained in this book, Derrida explains how typing on a computer is as if ‘an evil-genius, an invisible addressee, an omnipotent witness were listening to us in advance, capturing and sending us back the image of our speech without delay…. With the image rendered objective and immediately stabilized into the speech of the Other…a speech of the unconscious as well. Truth itself.’ When typing on a computer, as opposed to ink and paper, our thoughts materialize before our eyes almost at the instant we think them. He shows how such instantaneous response ‘pulls’ our thoughts forward, as if we complete our sentences and thoughts before our eyes before we even realized we have them in our head. ‘The figure of the text ‘processed’ is like a phantom to the extent that it is less bodily, more ‘spiritual’, more ethereal.’ He wonders how the philosophers of old would have been changed by such technology and marvels at the generations who will grow and think without even having not had the computer as their mental extension. He even jokes how bibliophiles will one day collect disks or thumb drives that have early drafts contained on them.
While he acknowledges the power (even a sexual power) of a word processer, Derrida points out that everything comes back to paper. When we finish writing on a computer, we comment that it is ready for print, for publication, two terms with connotations to paper. It is as if all writing done on a computer cannot be separated from the idea of paper, we are always mindful of the ‘pages’ we have typed (even certain eBooks, paperless books, keep track of how many pages have been read. There must be someone trying to usher a paperless age by changing certain eBooks to note the percentage, yet they cannot escape paper as they still maintain a visual that reflects words on paper) and our word processors still adhere to paper stylizations of margins, spacing, etc. Even terms like ‘cut’ and ‘paste’ reflect the text as something physical instead of abstract.
The rest of the pieces cover a variety of topics. There is Derrida’s dismissal of Sokal and Bricmont, the former being of the notorious Sokal Hoax, and his defense of Jose Rainha. Very little is available on Rainha on the internet (in English) yet his wrongful arrest, being a figurehead in the Landless Movement, drew the attention and support of Derrida and José Saramago. Much of the rest of his pieces deal with his politics, such his insistence on open Hospitality towards immigrants. The idea stems from Kant, yet he ultimately rejects many of Kant’s ideas in favor of creating his own while still acknowledging the limitations of each. Derrida has many reservations about globalization, yet supports the Euro to some extent. Derrida ultimately believes there should be law that govern outside the system, police that are outside the State, yet without creating some World Law or State. He explores totalitarianism and it’s influence of Marxism and how it is still present in the world today. Finally there is his Frankfurt address, a wonderful piece talking about language, feeling homesick for your own language, and includes a anecdote of a dream from Walter Benjamin in which he attempted to ‘make a scarf out of a poem’.
Derrida is not an easy read. He is heavily reliant on his predecessors and does not slow down to explain things or clear up ideas. ‘Literature,’ he says while arguing that he is not simply giving a ‘commentary’ on his predecessors but being a unified force furthering their ideas (he is extremely antagonistic towards the interviewer in that piece), ‘preserves the memory of the sacred texts that represent its ancestry; this memory is guilty and repentant, both making sacred and desacralizing.’ He speaks heavily on the ideas of Kant and Husserl, while being rather agressive towards Foucault. While being difficult, he is extraordinarily bright and exciting, exploring many ideas that are at the heart of all literature and philosophy. I will definitely be continuing exploring his ideas, as this book is not an ideal starting place (it often alludes to other books of his, this serving more as a commentary on all his other books than really as a stand-alone collection). Derrida has some wonderful words and makes me feel inadequate being in the cage of English and not speaking other languages. Read Derrida!
4.5/5 ...more
-Ferdinand de Saussure
Although De ‘A language might also be compared to a sheet of paper. Thought is one side of the sheet and sound the reverse side.’
-Ferdinand de Saussure
Although Derrida comments how Saussure ‘vigorously excluded writing from language’, he also notes that Saussure still viewed paper as a viable metaphor for language. In Paper Machine, the heart of the essays revolve around paper as a multimedia device that works as an extension of language, and the implications of an online future with regards to paper. Comprised of both essays and interviews, the latter being something Derrida mentions disliking yet being roped into so often throughout the years that he has become used to them, Derrida covers several discussions on paper, as well as politics, immigration and French philosophy. Often difficult, and heavily reliant on prior knowledge of the many thinkers he references, this book offers a wonderful overview of many of Derrida’s lines of thought, as well as an interesting investigation into paper and all it’s various meanings.
I first experienced Derrida my sophomore year in the course ‘Technology and Writing’ in which we examined the effects of technology – such paper, word processors, and different writing tools – on the written word and it’s construction. After reading a brief piece from Derrida detailing the alterations in Nietzsche’s thought and style when he moved from writing with pen and paper to using a typewriter (Derrida argues for a more direct, more immediate style and tone, as well as his writing becoming more concise), we were assigned to write several different sentences using any technology normally not associated with writing tools. I turned in a sheet of rock with ‘I am out of ketchup’ written on it in mustard and a picture of the words ‘This took me forever’ written out on the pavement with Skittles candy. The lesson was that different tools affected what we wrote and how we would say things; the more difficult it was to write something out tended to lead to shorter sentences. Derrida explores the implications of better technology by examining the process of writing on a computer. In his piece The Word Processor contained in this book, Derrida explains how typing on a computer is as if ‘an evil-genius, an invisible addressee, an omnipotent witness were listening to us in advance, capturing and sending us back the image of our speech without delay…. With the image rendered objective and immediately stabilized into the speech of the Other…a speech of the unconscious as well. Truth itself.’ When typing on a computer, as opposed to ink and paper, our thoughts materialize before our eyes almost at the instant we think them. He shows how such instantaneous response ‘pulls’ our thoughts forward, as if we complete our sentences and thoughts before our eyes before we even realized we have them in our head. ‘The figure of the text ‘processed’ is like a phantom to the extent that it is less bodily, more ‘spiritual’, more ethereal.’ He wonders how the philosophers of old would have been changed by such technology and marvels at the generations who will grow and think without even having not had the computer as their mental extension. He even jokes how bibliophiles will one day collect disks or thumb drives that have early drafts contained on them.
While he acknowledges the power (even a sexual power) of a word processer, Derrida points out that everything comes back to paper. When we finish writing on a computer, we comment that it is ready for print, for publication, two terms with connotations to paper. It is as if all writing done on a computer cannot be separated from the idea of paper, we are always mindful of the ‘pages’ we have typed (even certain eBooks, paperless books, keep track of how many pages have been read. There must be someone trying to usher a paperless age by changing certain eBooks to note the percentage, yet they cannot escape paper as they still maintain a visual that reflects words on paper) and our word processors still adhere to paper stylizations of margins, spacing, etc. Even terms like ‘cut’ and ‘paste’ reflect the text as something physical instead of abstract.
’Paper echoes and resounds, subjectile of an inscription from which phonetic aspects are never absent, whatever the system of writing. Beneath the appearance of a surface, it holds in reserve a volume, folds, a labyrinth whose walls return the echoes of the voice or song that it carries itself; for paper alsop has the range or the ranges of a voice bearer. Paper is utilized in an experience involving the body, beginning with the hands, eyes, voice, ears; so it mobilizes both time and space. Despite or through the richness and multiplicity of these resources, this multimedia has always proclaimed its inadequacy and its finitude.It is interesting to see how paper has such a vast assortment of connotations. There are many positives, and Derrida points out that the word book, as in the Latin word liber which was a word for the bark that was used to make the paper that became a book, really designates the paper it is printed on. Paper also comes with a sense of being disposable, and has a multitude of negative connotations. A few that Derrida explores are that a broke promise or a broke signed allegiance becomes merely ‘bits of paper’, and armies numbers or monetary wealth are able to be discredited or at least reduced by referring to it as being ‘only on paper’, thus signifying an abstraction not related to a true fixture in reality. Paper has thousands of uses as well, for words, images, and even rolling papers, toilet paper and currency (his examples). Derrida argues that we will not be able to remove ourselves from our reliance on paper. He even says that it was made to be reduced, as every stroke of the pen is covering up it’s surface, thus reducing the paper while making it into something greater.
The rest of the pieces cover a variety of topics. There is Derrida’s dismissal of Sokal and Bricmont, the former being of the notorious Sokal Hoax, and his defense of Jose Rainha. Very little is available on Rainha on the internet (in English) yet his wrongful arrest, being a figurehead in the Landless Movement, drew the attention and support of Derrida and José Saramago. Much of the rest of his pieces deal with his politics, such his insistence on open Hospitality towards immigrants. The idea stems from Kant, yet he ultimately rejects many of Kant’s ideas in favor of creating his own while still acknowledging the limitations of each. Derrida has many reservations about globalization, yet supports the Euro to some extent. Derrida ultimately believes there should be law that govern outside the system, police that are outside the State, yet without creating some World Law or State. He explores totalitarianism and it’s influence of Marxism and how it is still present in the world today. Finally there is his Frankfurt address, a wonderful piece talking about language, feeling homesick for your own language, and includes a anecdote of a dream from Walter Benjamin in which he attempted to ‘make a scarf out of a poem’.
Derrida is not an easy read. He is heavily reliant on his predecessors and does not slow down to explain things or clear up ideas. ‘Literature,’ he says while arguing that he is not simply giving a ‘commentary’ on his predecessors but being a unified force furthering their ideas (he is extremely antagonistic towards the interviewer in that piece), ‘preserves the memory of the sacred texts that represent its ancestry; this memory is guilty and repentant, both making sacred and desacralizing.’ He speaks heavily on the ideas of Kant and Husserl, while being rather agressive towards Foucault. While being difficult, he is extraordinarily bright and exciting, exploring many ideas that are at the heart of all literature and philosophy. I will definitely be continuing exploring his ideas, as this book is not an ideal starting place (it often alludes to other books of his, this serving more as a commentary on all his other books than really as a stand-alone collection). Derrida has some wonderful words and makes me feel inadequate being in the cage of English and not speaking other languages. Read Derrida!
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