Depuis Léon Brunschvicg s’est établie une sorte de lieu commun de l’interprétation de la métaphysique de Leibniz, dont la cohérence serait compromise par la contradiction entre la monade, pour qui l’espace est idéal, et la « monadologie » ou système de toutes les monades coexistantes, qui présupposerait un réalisme de l’espace. Dans cet article, l’argument de Brunschvicg est reconstitué, puis critiqué par la restitution de la pensée réelle de Leibniz sur les rapports entre monade et espace : on (...) ne doit en aucun cas se représenter la pluralité des monades comme une multiplicité spatiale – l’espace est un ordre non des substances simples, mais des phénomènes, – seule l’union constante et universelle de chaque monade à un corps organique permet de parler d’un « point de vue », qui n’est autre que la localisation de ce corps parmi les autres et non de la monade qui, en tant que telle, n’a pas de lieu. (shrink)

This article deals with a blind spot in Hirschman’s analysis in The Passions an the Interests: according to him, the topos of the doux commerce would have been erased from the collective consciousness during the 19th century, due to the social consequences of the industrial revolution. However, in the debates that animate the industrialist thinkers under the French Restoration (1814-1830), the association between civil peace and economic development takes on new topical and argumentative forms with the conceptual shift from the (...) “trading nation” to the “industrial society”. This shift is not indifferent: it has reconfigured the topography of the doux commerce. On the one hand, the theme of peaceful industry superimposed the workshop model (regarded as cooperative, productive and hierarchical) on that of commercial exchange (regarded as more egalitarian). On the other hand, it opened the prospect not only of a simple softening, but of a radical substitution of interest for passions and of a total elimination of conflict thanks to the peaceful exploitation of nature. However, the emergence of the social question sowed discord among industrialists: without rejecting the commonplace entirely, the Saint-Simonians separated from the liberals by detaching the theme of peaceful industry from the dogma of free competition. (shrink)

Dans un célèbre petit volume, Les passions et les intérêts, l’économiste Albert O. Hirschman retrace la formation, aux XVIIe et XVIIIe siècles, de ce qu’il nomme la « doctrine du doux commerce », qui est constitutive de la pensée libérale et qui fut développée alors « en faveur du libre essor des activités lucratives privées ». Selon Hirschman, une première version du doux commerce met en exergue les effets pacificateurs du commerce, en insistant pour ce faire sur une opposition entre (...) intérêt... (shrink)

Nous appelons «thèse des descriptions multiples» l'opinion qui veut qu'une seule et même action peut etre decrite de plusieurs façons différentes selon que Ton prend en considération ou non les différentes conséquences, plus ou moins lointaines, de cette action. Cette thèse joue chez certains penseurs un rôle essentiel dans la solution du problème de l'individuation des actions. Chez D. Davidson notamment, elle intervient de façon décisive dans la démonstration de sa fameuse thèse que toute action se réduit à des mouvements (...) corporels. Nous entendons montrer, premièrement, que la thèse des descriptions multiples, à supposer même qu'elle soit vraie, ne saurait remplir le rôle que lui assigne Davidson dans le contexte de l'individuation des actions; deuxièmement, que cette thèse est fondée en fait sur l'ignorance de certaines distinctions importantes concernant l'action et le langage de l'action. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Books ReceivedThe Ambitions of Curiosity: Understanding the World in Ancient Greece and China. By G.E.R. Lloyd. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Pp. xvi + 175. Price not given.The Art of the Han Essay: Wang Fu's Ch'ien-Fu Lun. By Anne Behnke Kinney. Tempe: Center for Asian Studies, Arizona State University, 1990. Pp. xi + 154. Paper $10.00.The Autobiography of Jamgön Kongtrul: A Gem of Many Colors. By Jamgön Kongtrul (...) Lodrön Thayé and translated by Richard Barron (Chökyi Nyima). Ithaca, New York: Snow Lion Publications, 2003. Pp. xxii + 549. Price not given.Awesome Nightfall: The Life, Times, and Poetry of Saigyō. By William R. LaFleur. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2003. Pp. xiii + 173. Paper $14.95.Becoming the Compassion Buddha: Tantric Mahamudra for Everyday Life. By Lama Thubten Yeshe, edited by Robina Courtin, and foreword by Geshe Lhundub Sopa. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2003. Pp. xi + 194. Paper $14.95.Between Two Worlds East and West: An Autobiography. By J. N. Mohanty. New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2002. Pp. ix + 134. Hardcover RS 525.00.The Chinese Face of Jesus Christ. Edited by Roman Malek, S.V.D. Sankt Augustin, Germany: Institut Monumenta Serica and China-Zentrum; and Nettetal, Germany: Steyler Verlag, 2002. Pp. 391. EUR 40.00.Chinese Medicine in Contemporary China: Plurality and Synthesis. By Volker Scheid. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2002. Pp. xiv + 407. Hardcover $69.95. Paper $23.95.Confucian Feminist: Memoirs of Zeng Baosun (1893-1978). Translated and adapted by Thomas L. Kennedy. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 2002. Pp. xxi + 170. Price not given.Consciousness Studies: Cross-Cultural Perspectives. By K. Ramakrishna Rao. Jefferson (North Carolina) and London: McFarland and Company, 2002. Pp. 367. Hardcover $65.00.Constituting Communities: Theravāda Buddhism and the Religious Cultures of South and Southeast Asia. Edited by John Clifford Holt, Jacob N. Kinnard, and Jonathan S. Walters. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2003. Pp. viii + 224. Hardcover $65.50. Paper $21.95.Developments in Indian Philosophy from Eighteenth Century Onwards: Classical and Western. By Daya Krishna. Volume X Part 1 of History of Science, Philosophy and Culture in Indian Civilization, edited by D. P. Chattopadhyaya. New [End Page 110] Delhi: Centre for Studies in Civilizations, 2001. Pp. xxiii + 417. Hardcover RS 1200.East and West: Identità e dialogo interculturale. By Giangiorgio Pasqualotto. Venezia: Marsilo Editori, 2003. Pp. 210. EUR 16.00.Effortless Action: Wu-wei as Conceptual Metaphor and Spiritual Ideal in Early China. By Edward Slingerland. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Pp. xii + 352. Price not given.Encountering Kā lī: In the Margins, at the Center, in the West. Edited by Rachel Fell McDermott and Jeffrey J. Kripal. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2003. Pp. xviii + 321. Hardcover $55.00, £37.95. Paper $21.95, £15.95.Encyclopedia of Chinese Philosophy. Edited by Antonio S. Cua. New York and London: Routledge, 2003. Pp. xx + 1020. Hardcover $150.00.Essays on Indian Philosophy. By J. N. Mohanty and edited by Purushottama Bilimoria. New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2002. Pp. xxxvii + 347. Paper RS 525.00.Faith, Humor, and Paradox. By Ignacio L. Götz. Westport, Connecticut: Praeger Publishers, 2002. Pp. 136. Hardcover $61.95.Four Illusions: Candrakīrti's Advice for Travelers on the Bodhisattva Path. Translated by Karen C. Lang. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Pp. xv + 240. Price not given.The Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social Theory. By David R. Loy. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2003. Pp. 223. Paper $16.95.The Hidden History of The Tibetan Book of the Dead. By Bryan J. Cuevas. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Pp. xi + 328. Price not given.Huang Di nei jing su wen: Nature, Knowledge, Imagery in an Ancient Chinese Medical Text. By Paul U. Unschuld. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2003. Pp. xii + 520. Hardcover $75.00, £52.00.In Dewey's Wake: Unfinished Work of Pragmatic Reconstruction. Edited by William J. Gavin. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2003. Pp. vi + 249. Hardcover $71.50. Paper $23.95.Knowledge and Freedom in Indian Philosophy. By Tara Chatterjea. Lanham, Maryland: Lexington Books, 2002. Pp. xvi + 159. Hardcover... (shrink)

Le territoire de la philosophie serait divisé par une frontière infranchissable entre modèles analytique et continental. S'élevant contre cette idée reçue, cet essai met en lumière le socle commun de la philosophie des trente dernières années : pour sortir du „dispositif de la perspective» où le sujet était spectateur du monde, les philosophes contemporains ont conçu un sujet à ce point immergé dans le monde qu'il n'en est plus que le reflet ou l'effet. Cette solution a un nom : (...) le réalisme, unanimement revendiqué aujourd'hui, de l'actuelle phénoménologie aux disciples de Wittgenstein en passant par les nouvelles métaphysiques. Cette solution ne serait-elle pas devenue un simple lieu commun? Ce panorama critique de la philosophie contemporaine montre les écueils et l'impossibilité de ce réalisme partagé, dont il soumet les multiples expressions à une analyse serrée et limpide. Comment ensuite dépasser les apories du réalisme sans retomber dans le modèle du face-à-face entre l'homme et le monde? La réponse suppose une réflexion sur la possibilité même de la philosophie aujourd'hui. Au lieu commun réaliste de la philosophie contemporaine, l'auteur objecte le «lieu de l'universel». (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Communicating Conversion:Penitential Turn Transmission in the Early Franciscan FraternityKrijn PanstersIntroductionThe literature on religious conversion shows that there is no comprehensive inventory of individual conversion stories that may provide the basic materials for a genealogy of Christian conversion, or of a further examination of its tradition.1 The scholarly interpretations that we have almost exclusively concern conversion narratives about anonymous masses, such as the Saxons under Charlemagne, or the conversions (...) of a limited number of famous people.2 These include the "usual suspects" such as St. Paul, whose conversion led him to become a follower of Jesus,3 St. Augustine, who also converted to Christianity,4 John Wesley, whose conversion led him to begin his own ministry,5 and Thomas Merton, who converted to Catholicism and became a priest.6 To this exclusive crowd of icons of Christian conversion certainly belongs St. Francis of Assisi (†1226), [End Page 171] whose exemplary conversion experience centers on penance (recognition of himself as a sinner, conversion of the heart, rejection of worldly life, imitation of Christ) and whose case is special and exceptional in that the event of the commencement of his penitential life remains the essence of the core of his spiritual preaching and teaching.In this article, I will therefore deal with Francis's penitential turn transmission—his communication of a spiritual propositum based on conversion from sin to virtue—and thus with his main spiritual message.7 I will start with a short description of how Francis turned his conversion experience, an episode that has been studied extensively as an important part of his biography, into the cornerstone of his spiritual transmission, viz., his promotion of a new religious program. I will continue with a contextualization of Francis's communication of conversion from a broader historical-theological perspective. I will then analyze the deeper dimensions of his call to conversion, viz., his instruction of "doing penance" in terms of turning from sin to virtue. I will conclude with a reflection on the continuation of his spiritual transmission within the Franciscan order and, furthermore, on the comparison with other "conversional communications" in the Christian tradition.Francis's Communication of ConversionFrancis described his conversion to a life of "doing penance" as the outcome of an encounter with outcasts, after which "what had seemed bitter to me was turned into sweetness of soul and body" and he "delayed a little and left the world."8 In this confession, he conceptualized his religious [End Page 172] turnabout as the start of the penitential life and, with this, as an invitation to his readers to also change the orientation and direction of their lives and to switch from worldliness to otherworldliness—to the realization, from now on, not of worldly but of heavenly goods. It is very likely that Francis had already heard the call to conversion and penitential life in the encounter with certain Gospel texts.9 As is evident from his conversional account, however, he truly "first recognized himself as a sinner"10 in an encounter with lepers. It was this spiritual event, causing a moral shift from selfishness to social concern,11 that brought about a radical reorientation toward a life of faith, a remarkable religious renewal, and a rapid replacement of sin with salvation. It was also this existential experience, this self-perceived transition "from damnation to redemption," that came to represent the essence of the evangelical program that Francis developed in the following years. In the words of André Vauchez:The text of the Gospel to which Francis and his companions never ceased referring in their preaching included this dimension: "Do penance! The kingdom of heaven is at hand!" (or "is coming," according to the other version of Matthew 4:17 then in circulation). But the conversion to which they were inviting [End Page 173] their listeners was not presented as a simple preparation or preliminary step that was necessary to pass through in order to attain perfection. It already included entry into this "kingdom of heaven," which it was helping to create here and now (hinc et nunc). Far from any millenarian speculation or complex divisions of the history of salvation which certain ecclesiastical authors... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Community of “Neighbors”:A Baptist-Buddhist Reflects on the Common Ground of LoveJan WillisToday we are all aware that the concept of “race” is a mere construction. There is only one “race”: the human race; to think otherwise is like still believing that the earth is flat. But “racism” is a different matter. It exists as a system of beliefs and prejudices that people differ along biological and genetic lines (...) and that one’s own group is superior to another group. When these beliefs and prejudices are coupled with power—especially the power to negatively affect the lives of those perceived to be inferior—we have a serious problem. And no one should downplay or underestimate the harm that such an ideology inflicts upon everyone who participates in it. According to one African American professor of social work, “America’s history is inextricably bound to this racist ideology. From the codifying of slavery, to the belief in ‘Manifest Destiny,’ to the treatment of ‘illegal immigrants,’ many of America’s actions continue to conflict with its creed that ‘All men are created equal.’”1Over the past decade or so, I have written a number of pieces that focus upon racism in America and racism in so-called American Buddhism.2 Being African American myself, my reasons for this focus may perhaps be clear though not necessarily inevitable. I have written on a number of other topics: Buddhist philosophical discourses and life stories of Buddhist “saints,” for example. In my writings on racism, I have tried to communicate something of the emotional and psychic toll it takes to live in this country as a person of color. In a number of these writings, I have called myself a “Baptist-Buddhist,” and thus this is also one of my “dual belongings,” one of my “multiple identities.”When I speak of racism, I am not concerned with garnering pity, or playing the “race card” of guilt, or telling you, from some assumed position of superiority on the matter, that there is simply no way for you to understand this toll. I certainly cannot speak for all African Americans, or even for most of them. Early on in the process of writing this paper, I emailed Jung and Paul to say that I found the title of the panel both much too broad and much too narrow. “Too broad” because one person cannot possibly channel and/or verbalize the countless instances of suffering endured by African Americans (and more broadly, by persons of color) throughout space and over centuries in this country owing to slavery and its aftermath. And “too narrow” [End Page 97] because, ultimately, we want to do more than just rehash our many sufferings. We don’t want to wallow in victimhood. We want to move on—from the recognition of that immense suffering, seen and unseen—and to go out into the world and act to bring about social, economic, and ecological justice. That’s what we are called upon to do: to form a new community wherein there is compassion and caring for one another, where there is love and peace, nonviolence, reconciliation, and justice.So, even though I am quite frankly tired—as are so many people of color—of being the “token” African American who can add visible “diversity” to a group in order to show that it is now more “inclusive” than before, nevertheless, in this so-called postracial society where we have a black president and the demographic of “person of color” now comprises an actual majority of the United States’ population, I must still rise to say that, sadly, racism is not dead in this country! Its painful vestiges exist, and those vestiges are far from being either innocent or unharmful.I truly believe that—for African Americans, in particular—it is the trauma and the legacy of slavery that haunts us in the deepest recesses of our souls. It is hard to imagine what having been bartered and sold as though mere property does to a human being, what being dehumanized, infanticized, and divested of all rights and liberties does to one’s sense of self-worth and well-being. As... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Poetry, Community, Movement: A Conversation*Charles Bernstein (bio), Ann Lauterbach (bio), Jonathan Monroe (bio), and Bob Perelman (bio)1JM: What remains at stake in the long-standing and still tenacious distinction in Western culture between making arguments and making metaphors, between “poetry” and “philosophy”? What is the investment in holding onto this dichotomy?AL: There’s a familiar split in the notion of what a creative act is. That split, in our culture, (...) involves an idea of creativity as being natural and expressive: a poet has no need to have thought about anything in order to make a poem; the enemy is the analytical. This is a long-standing divisive space, certainly within the academy but also in the culture at large.JM: Over the past thirty years or so that space became institutionalized to greater and lesser degrees within the academy in the United States in the familiar tensions that came to exist in many universities between Creative Writing programs and programs in literary theory. Although both kinds of programs acquired substantial institutional power at a roughly similar pace, they’ve often seemed to move along parallel tracks that communicated with each other poorly or at cross-purposes. How do you see their prospects developing midway through the nineties?CB: Let me come at this in a different way. I think there’s enormous value in poets teaching literature in graduate as well as undergraduate programs. We need to have many different perspectives and methodologies in the classroom. For example, it can be a value that we have diametrically opposite perspectives on many of these questions. What particularly interests me as a model for teaching is having the active involvement of contemporary poets in both undergraduate and graduate classes teaching literature in what I would prefer to call “Creative Reading” rather than “Creative Writing” classes.JM: When you say, “We tend to view things from diametrically opposed perspectives,” who is the “we” you’re referring to?CB: Well, the category of “poets” in and of itself is too broad. There is no single perspective of poetry any more than there is a perspective of philosophy or theory. Poets themselves often have diametrically opposed perspectives on these very issues we’re talking about. So there isn’t a perspective of poetry. Poets as a group don’t bring any one thing. As a class in and of itself, it’s just too general. [End Page 196]BP: It seems as though such distinctions are actually playing to an external audience like in the film Dead Poets’ Society, where the artist is this glamorous figure, an outsider.AL: Somewhere in this complicated, or not so complicated, or simplistic view, there may be a reading of reading. Poets who read theory, for example, might be said to read it differently than theorists read poetry, in other words for different ends.BP: That’s true.AL: It is true. And that in itself is interesting. I read a lot of theory but not to theoretical ends.JM: What does that mean, “not to theoretical ends”?AL: I read theory not in order to produce theory. I read theory to produce a way of thinking about poetry, if you see what I mean. So far anyway, I’m not interested in becoming a theoretician of poetry, but I’m very interested in what theory has to say, what it gives me.JM: What kinds of communities are being drawn together or held apart under the words “philosophy” and “poetry”? When you write, Bob, in “The Marginalization of Poetry,” about what you call “overgenred” writing, what happens to the “poetic”?BP: At the end of the poem, quoting from Glas, I wrote, and I still feel this is true, that Derrida is very responsive to philosophic decorum and that my use of his words are in the service of something very different. When I use the word “poetic” there, I’m using it not as a noun but as an adjective. If something is “poetic,” in that sense, I’d worry that it’s trying to be beautiful in old-fashioned ways, not responsive to theory, that it wants to be self-expressive and... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Diacritics 31.2 (2001) 49-69 [Access article in PDF] The Communication of the Impossible Joseph Suglia Death is the death of other people, contrary to the tendency of contemporary philosophy, which is focussed on one's own solitary death. Only the former is central to the search for lost time. But the daily death—and the death of every instant—of other persons, as they withdraw into themselves, does not belong to (...) an incommunicable solitude: that is precisely what nurtures love. That is Eros in all its ontological purity, which does not require participation in a third term (tastes, common interests, a connaturality of souls)—but direct relationship with what gives itself in withholding itself, with the other qua other, with mystery. —Emmanuel Levinas, "The Other in Proust" Desire, pure impure desire, is the call to bridge the distance, to die in common through separation. —Maurice Blanchot, L'écriture du désastreOf the many challenges to the Heideggerian analytic of mortality that emerged throughout the twentieth century, none has been more groundbreaking than that of Maurice Blanchot. 1 The originality and singularity of this confrontation consists in its accent on the social character of mortality: the "experience" of death appears, in this body of discourse, as a relation to the autrui.Death is, for Heidegger, an individual engagement. 2 Heidegger absolutely excludes from his existential analytic of mortality any consideration of the Other's dying as a possible object of experience. 3 Although Sein und Zeit (1927) posits cobeing (Mitsein) as a structure essential to the constitution of selfhood, 4 death belongs exclusively to the solitary Dasein. 5 The problematic of sacrifice is irrelevant to the existential analytic, since the representative function of sacrifice does not correspond to the unrepresentable [End Page 49] character of death. 6 This is because, as Heidegger points out, even if one dies for the Other, one does not take away the Other's death. 7 As Heidegger remarks, Dasein may never experience the Other's arrival at the end (Zuendegekommensein) [SZ 239] (the true object of thanato-ontology), but only its transition into something unliving (Unlebendiges) [SZ 238]. 8 For this reason, no ontological study of death could take the death of the Other as an object of formal research.Although the "fate" of Dasein is communal (occurring within the shared context of a community), Dasein takes no part in the Other's relation to its most proper possibility: the anticipation of death, which discloses every other possibility and which makes possibility itself possible. Individuals in the community relate to their respective fates as a series of disconnected possibilities of impossibility. There is, at most, a "holding-in-common" of deaths that are infinitely separated from each other. In destiny (Geschick), individual Daseins share nothing more than the mutual impossibility of experiencing each other's deaths: there is an infinite distance between the death of the self and the death of the Other, an impossible articulation or interlacing of incommensurable nonexperiences. Every death is a parallel death—and nothing else besides.There is, then, for Heidegger, essentially no rapport between the death of the self and the death of the Other. Dasein is beside the Other in its dying without ever dying in the place of the Other. As Heidegger puts it in paragraph forty-seven of Sein und Zeit, "Wir erfahren nicht im genuinen Sinne das Sterben der Anderen, sondern sind höchstens immer nur 'dabei'" [We do not experience the dying of others in a genuine sense, but are, at the very most, always just 'there'] [SZ 239]. Holding death in common is what holds the members of the relation together in their mutual separation. Despite the methodological sleight of hand that Heidegger terms "destiny," Dasein's relation to its own death is constitutively dissociated from that of the Other.In contrast to this tendency, Blanchot conceives of the self's relation to its own death as an exposure that opens onto the death of the other person. Such is Blanchot's most important contribution to the thought of death, as well as what distinguishes his position most radically from... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Concepts, Communication, and the Relevance of Philosophy to Human Rights:A Response to Randall PeerenboomStephen C. AngleRandy Peerenboom has paid me the enormous compliment of thinking it worthwhile to engage in sustained, critical dialogue with my book. In this response to his review essay, I attempt to return the compliment. I focus on issues surrounding concepts and communication, since that is where Peerenboom puts his emphasis. Near the end, (...) I look at what is at stake in our discussions of Raz, touch on the question of judgments and objectivity, and close with some thoughts about the relevance of history to my goals in the book. [End Page 320]At the heart of Peerenboom's critique of my account of concepts and communication are two concerns. First, he worries that I do not "provide a satisfactory answer to the questions of how to determine whether we are dealing with a single concept or discourse or multiple concepts or discourses." Second, he suggests that my entire discussion of concepts, "while interesting academically, at least for those with a taste for philosophy, diverts attention from the real issues." I will begin with the first. A valuable result of Peerenboom's essay is that it helps me to see where I have not made myself as clear as I would have liked to. At various points in the book, I raise the issue of the normative nature of questions like those Peerenboom has posed (see, e.g., pp. 27 and 32), but this is clearly something that needs more emphasis. Asking what a word means, or whether two people share a concept, or, for that matter, where the boundaries of a discourse lie are never simple, descriptive questions. These are normative questions, which always receive normative answers. By "normative," I mean that the questions and their answers are prescriptive for those in my shared community. When someone says "we mean such-and-such by that word," the "we" is crucial: it is saying that people like us, in some respect, ought to talk this way. Thinking about language in normative terms permeates Brandom's approach. He writes, for example: "When the prosecutor at Oscar Wilde's trial asked him to say under oath whether a particular passage in one of his works did or did not constitute blasphemy, Wilde replied 'Blasphemy is not one of my words.'"1 Wilde recognized, that is, that using the word "blasphemy" brought with it certain commitments that he—and other like-minded individuals—ought to reject, even if he were to deny that a particular passage was blasphemous.So far so good. But Peerenboom sees a tension between what looks like a community-based definition of concepts—perhaps all Chinese ought therefore to share the same commitments?—and my endorsement of a holistic approach to meaning, according to which our individual webs of commitments always vary from one to another. This latter idea leads him to be puzzled about when two people can ever be said to share the same concept. He searches for a criterion for a sufficiently similar concept, wonders whether my talk of "keeping score" can provide such a criterion, and in the end decides that the choice of where to draw these lines is, in many cases, arbitrary. There is indeed a tension, and some arbitrariness, too, although not exactly where Peerenboom sees it. But none of this is problematic, I think, and in any case it emerges from the very complexity of our linguistic practice. Communities do not impose norms on us: we authorize the norms through the ways we speak, act, and react to others. "Authorize" is apt because it combines the ideas of creation and legitimation. Our perpetual roles as authorizers of a community's linguistic (and other) norms give us a certain amount of autonomy with respect to the norms, as well as explaining some variance, as we (consciously or unconsciously) push boundaries in one direction or another. At the same time, no one is a member of only one community. We interact with different groups at different times and in different ways, which puts the notion that we could be bound by the norms of a single... (shrink)

Selon un lieu commun, la géographie médiévale se réduirait à une vaste parenthèse ouverte entre la fin du siècle d'or de l'Empire romain et la renaissance des grandes découvertes du XV° siècle. Mais quelle réalité s'agit-il de représenter ? Car toute représentation est tributaire, non seulement de conceptions particulières, mais aussi de moyens techniques qui ont présidé à son élaboration. Dans cet article, le lien entre la réalité et ses images, qui organise habituellement l'histoire de la cartographie, sera (...) relâché au bénéfice des représentations comme un système de signes appelé à prendre sens dans une production et une réception . L'enquête médiévale révèle l'attention des contemporains à la complexité de ces relations et représentations.According to common understanding, medieval geography would be reduced to a vast parenthesis, open between the end of the golden century of the Roman Empire and the renaissance of the great discoveries of the 15th century. But what is the reality being represented ?For every representation is tributary, not only of particular conceptions, but also of the technical capacities that preceded its elaboration. In this article, the connection between reality and its images, which habitually organized the history of cartography, will be set aside for the benefit of representations as a system, of signs called to have meaning in a production and a reception . This medieval inquiry reveals the attention that contemporaries have given to the complexity of its relations and representations. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Communicative Implications of Kant’s Aesthetic TheoryThomas HoveIn recent discussions of aesthetic theory, critics who raise social, cultural, and political concerns have issued important challenges to the Kantian legacy. Kant’s Critique of the Power of Judgment (1790) continues to be widely regarded as one of the founding documents of modern aesthetic theory. But the arguments he laid out in that notoriously enigmatic work remain controversial on a variety of (...) fronts. One of those arguments concerns his distinction between pleasures that are beautiful and those that are agreeable. According to Kant’s definition, what makes experiences of the beautiful special is that they have a potentially communicable universal validity. By contrast, pleasures that are merely agreeable are incommunicable and remain confined to private sensation. Philosophers have found this distinction problematic for a variety of reasons. Their detailed commentaries have examined the intricate logical and conceptual difficulties that Kant’s theory raises (see Allison 2001; Guyer 1982, 1997, 2002; Kalar 2000; Wenzel 2005). On another front, sociologists and cultural critics—whom I will broadly refer to as “social critics”—typically raise concerns about the theory’s hidden social implications (Bourdieu 1984; Eagleton 1990; Smith 1988; Shumway 2005). Specifically, they question Kant’s proposal that judgments about the beautiful ought to have universal validity. Taking an external standpoint, they tend to regard aesthetic judgments either as the peculiar habits of [End Page 103] specific social classes, or as badges of hierarchical distinction, or as weapons in symbolic struggles for cultural dominance.To suggest why Kant’s theory is worth revisiting in the wake of such critiques, the following analysis defends his theoretical effort to distinguish the experience of the beautiful from that of the agreeable. This feature of his aesthetic theory highlights an alternative to the cognitive and practical concerns that social critics emphasize. In particular, I indicate how Kant’s aesthetic theory offers directions for the effort to explain how aesthetic experience promotes communicative sociability. By emphasizing this theme, I hope to supplement the rival emphasis that social critics place on the Kantian legacy’s elitist undercurrents. Social critiques characteristically overlook the affective type of sociability to which aesthetic experience gives rise. This oversight occurs because those critiques tend to privilege the theoretical and practical dimensions of communication. In the process, they disregard the special types of validity claims that are unique to aesthetic discourse. Following the lead of his academic precursors Meier and Baumgarten, Kant tried to define a possible third mental “faculty” that differs from cognitive and practical reason (see Henrich 1992, 31–36). But the difficulty of defining this third faculty, much less determining its existence, continues to vex both philosophers and communication theorists.Kant’s Account of Aesthetic Experience and Its CriticsIn the opening sections of the Critique of Judgment, Kant attempts to establish the independence of aesthetic judgment from theoretical and practical cognition. Those faculties are concerned with cognitive and moral concepts. By contrast, the aesthetic properties that concern taste judgments have a unique ontological and epistemological status. Kant’s argument about that status is itself enormously complex, involving as it does an intricate network of idiosyncratically defined concepts (for example, the understanding, the imagination, intuition, representations, objects, etc.). But to avoid getting lost in those intricacies, we can bracket them by simply referring to aesthetic “experience.” Also, we can concentrate on the two properties that distinguish aesthetic experience from other kinds of experience. First, aesthetic properties relate to the feelings of pleasure that are aroused by certain encounters with objects. Second, aesthetic properties are “merely subjective” (Kant 2000, 75). They do not have an objective status because we cannot associate the feelings they arouse with determinate concepts and objects. [End Page 104] As Miles Rind puts it, “in making a cognitive judgment one requires everyone to conceptualize an object in a certain way, while in making a judgment of taste one requires others to share one’s liking for an object” (Rind 2000, 83). In sum, Kant differentiates aesthetic judgment from both theoretical and practical cognition because it is radically subjective and because its unique grounding lies in feelings of pleasure and displeasure.Social critics tend to downplay the idea that there... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:More Than Words:Communicating for the Quality of CareElaine HsiehMy first experience as a healthcare interpreter was in the summer of 1998. I just completed the first year of a two-year graduate program in one of the top MA programs for conference interpreters—many of the graduates ended up working at the United Nations and international agencies. Many of my classmates chose to work in top business or government agencies (...) for their summer internships. I wanted to do something different. Something that I may never cross paths with again if I miss the opportunity. So, I chose to work as a healthcare interpreter intern at a large healthcare system. The summer internship was supposed to be a refreshing break from the drudgery of rigorous training to be a conference interpreter at an international level.As a graduate student who has received one year of intensive practicum training, I was proud of my "overqualification." At that time and to this day, the norm for most training programs for professional healthcare interpreters is a 40-hour short course (e.g., Bridging the Gap). With my advanced training and language proficiency, I thought this would be a fun, easy detour in my career development. I was excited to work with real people, no longer trapped in the isolating interpreting booths with headphones in conference rooms.Little did I know that the summer internship would change my life and career trajectory. The first big jolt that challenged my confidence as an interpreter was also one of the first assignments I received. I was taking an elderly man to his first physical therapy session. The man had such severe scoliosis that he was essentially looking backward as he walked forward. As we walked into the clinic, a medical resident saw my patient and jumped up in excitement. With a great smile on his face, he exclaimed, "Wow! This is the worst case I have ever seen." I felt startled. I could see that the patient was unsure about the resident's excitement. Normally, I would just go ahead and interpret what the physician said. I would then introduce the patient to the physician, explain my role as an interpreter (e.g., "I will interpret everything you and the patient say so you understand each other"), and proceed to interpret what other speakers said.However, all my training as an interpreter failed me at that moment. It's not because I was unsure about the linguistic equivalences of the resident's comment in Chinese. Rather, I was unsure how to best convey the information in a faithful, neutral, and accurate way without risking the provider-patient relationship and the quality of care. I explained to the physician, "Hi, my name is Elaine, and I am the healthcare interpreter. I am responsible for helping the patient understand what others are saying." Then, I asked, "How would you like me to interpret what you just said? You appeared very excited." The resident was taken aback, paused for a moment, and said, "Please tell him that I'm very happy to meet him." I interpreted that and proceeded to my regular routines.Another memorable moment took place at the end of a long shift near the end of my summer internship. I was already packing up to head home when I received a call to assist a 90-year-old patient who had just been admitted to a mental health ward after a failed suicide attempt a few hours ago. As an interpreter, I was required to interpret everything in the first-person style. For example, instead of saying, "The patient is sad," I say, "I am sad." Whenever possible, I also embody the speaker's nonverbals, including attitudes and emotions, through my interpretation. During the intake, the physician asked, "From 1 to 10, 1 being the least happy day in your life and 10 being the happiest, what number do you feel right now?" With the emptiest stare and the most soulless voice, the patient said, "If I have never experienced happiness in my life, how [End Page 159] do I know which number to give?" Throughout the hour-long session, I spoke in the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Community and the “Absolutely Feminine”Sheri I. Hoem (bio)I’ve emphasized the importance of the moment of dissent in the process of constructing knowledge, lying at the heart of the community of thought.—Jean-François Lyotard, The Postmodern ExplainedMaurice Blanchot’s The Unavowable Community places side by side a “community” of writers who confront the very possibility of community as it comes to be inscribed in politico-philosophical and literary modes. His “little book” (...) [56], as he calls it, takes up these modes of discourse separately, in two parts. The first section of his text, “The Negative Community,” constitutes an analytical defense of Bataille’s theoretical concepts of community as they have been interpreted by Jean-Luc Nancy in The Inoperative Community. Blanchot engages the question of community, communion, and communism not simply to contest or continue Nancy’s text, but to restore Bataille to a brotherhood, or “fraternity” [26] of friends and scholars who have come to think in terms of an “unworking” [23] or “negative” community. The second section of Blanchot’s text, “The Community of Lovers,” performs a critical reading of Marguerite Duras’s fictional work The Malady of Death.In The Inoperative Community—the pretext, at least in part, for part one of Blanchot’s little book—Nancy credits Bataille as having “gone farthest into the crucial experience of the modern destiny of community” [16] in that Bataille’s thinking reveals the experience of discerning communism’s failure, followed by a fascination with fascism, and finally a “withdrawal from communitarian enterprises” [16–17] altogether. According to Nancy, at the juncture of the historical and theoretical failings of community, Bataille abandons all forms of community other than “an accursed isolation of lovers and of the artist” [24]. Admitting that he is dealing only with ‘“themes’” rather than with Bataille’s “writing” itself, Nancy nevertheless asserts that Bataille’s thinking on community has always been limited by “the theme of the sovereignty of the subject” [23], even in his community of lovers:Bataille’s lovers are also, at the limit, a subject and an object—where the subject, moreover, is always the man, and the object always the woman, due no doubt to a very classical manipulation of sexual difference in an appropriation of self by self. (However, on another register and in another reading of Bataille’s text, it is not certain that love and jouissance do not pertain essentially to the woman—and to the woman in man. To discuss this it would be necessary to consider Bataille’s writing... something I cannot do here, inasmuch as I am for the moment considering only its “themes.”).[24]Nancy’s reading of Bataille thus clears a space for Nancy’s own investigation into the possibility of community after or beyond the subject, so to speak. Instead of a subject described as an (undivided) individual, Nancy speaks of a “singular being” who is always already othered. Singular beings as such are “constituted by... sharing that makes them [End Page 49] others: other for one another... ‘“communicating’ by not ‘communing’” [25]. For Nancy, it is the very experience of the limits of communication that allows each being to discover a certain singularity in common.Blanchot too reflects on the “theme” of community in Bataille’s works without examining Bataille’s “writing” as such, but he reads Bataille differently. Blanchot demonstrates how Bataille’s thinking gives the effect of “mutation” [4], that Bataille comes to an understanding of self-difference beyond the subject, beyond the limits imposed by Nancy’s reading, beyond the classical construct of subject/object discourse. Blanchot’s “Negative Community” establishes Bataille as one who experienced stages of thought: his thought exhibited its own infidelity.Blanchot turns to certain of Bataille’s terms, particularly “sacrifice,” “ecstasy,” and “inner experience,” to present an alternative to Nancy’s reading. According to Blanchot, the “inner experience” (l’expérience intérieure) is a concept in Bataille that does the opposite of what one might expect. The “inner experience,” Blanchot explains, is amovement of contestation that, coming from the subject, devastates it, but has as a deeper origin the relationship with the other which is community itself... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Journal of Aesthetic Education 38.2 (2004) 38-52 [Access article in PDF] Artist-Audience Communication: Tolstoy Reclaimed Saam Trivedi Whoever is really conversant with art recognizes in [Tolstoy's What is Art?] the voice of the master.1There has to be some presumption that, as one of the greatest artists who ever lived, Tolstoy might actually have known what he was talking about.2It is widely accepted in contemporary Anglo-American aesthetics that, (...) despite Tolstoy's own literary achievements, his "moralism" about art is a view without much merit. For the most part, I concur with this current consensus about Tolstoy. However, despite the many flaws in his view, I think Tolstoy was on to something, after all. In particular, I believe a concept of artist-audience communication similar to what Tolstoy had in mind can be fleshed out so as to avoid the problems that Tolstoy ran into, while reclaiming the insights in his view.3In what follows, I begin by suggesting briefly that recognizing a quasi-Tolstoyan concept of artist-audience communication may have important implications for how we should approach artworks, and thus also for aesthetic education. Next, I spell out this concept. I then offer trenchant criticisms of Tolstoy's view. Finally, I point out affinities between Tolstoy's concept and mine, while also distinguishing my concept of artist-audience communication from Tolstoy's concept of artistic communication. It will emerge, I hope, that while I disagree more than agree with Tolstoy, the issues where I agree with him may be more significant. Artist-Audience Communication I begin by discussing briefly how talk of a quasi-Tolstoyan artist-audience communication bears relevance for how we should approach artworks, and thus has relevance for aesthetic education. If I am right, then in approaching [End Page 38] and experiencing artworks, we should seek a correct experiential understanding of them that is shared between the artist and audience, and between ourselves and other members of the audience. This does not meanthat we seek what the artist did intend in creating the artwork, as actual intentionalism would have us do. Rather, as members of a competent audience, we should first analyze what a given artwork means by attending to the work itself.4 This includes the broad art-historical context of production (including the period, style, category, or genre of the work; the artist's public persona; the oeuvre of the artist; works by the artist's contemporaries; the social, cultural, and political milieu of the artist; and so on) and the public conventions that apply to it. In cases of irony, satire, and allusion, we may also need to broaden the context and appeal to artistic intentions. Then we should attribute this "work-meaning" to the historical artist as part of what she or he could have intended, so long as this was historically possible. If this historically possible work-meaning coincides with what she or he did intend in that artistic intentions are successfully realized in the work, then we have a real sharing of a correct, experiential understanding of the work between artist and audience, and thus real communication between them in the sense of artist-audience communication explained above. On the other hand, if what the artist did intend is not realized in the work and thus does not coincide with work-meaning as part of what she or he could have intended, then we still have at least a minimal, hypothetical sharing and communication insofar as our correct, experiential understanding of the work is shared with what the artist could have intended.This bears relevance for aesthetic education, assuming one of the purposes of aesthetic education is to teach children and other newcomers to art how to appreciate artworks.5 In teaching people how to appreciate artworks, I suggest we emphasize the shared, communicative aspects of the experience of artworks when they are understood more or less correctly. We should tell them that they should seek to communicate with the artist via the artwork, trying to understand the artwork correctly in the very experience of the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 265-267 [Access article in PDF] Book Review Community, Violence, and Peace: Aldo Leopold, Mohandas K. Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and Gautama the Buddha in the Twenty-First Century Community, Violence, and Peace: Aldo Leopold, Mohandas K. Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and Gautama the Buddha in the Twenty-First Century. By A. L. Herman. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1998. xi + 245 (...) pp. At first glance, this title might seem a bit over the edge: how could an author intelligently juxtapose such diverse thinkers as an ecological scientist, two advocates of human rights, and an ancient religious founder? For the most part, the author succeeds in demonstrating that the twenty-first century requires a definition of community that includes environmental, social, and spiritual concerns. In a format particularly [End Page 265] helpful for undergraduate teaching, he carefully rehearses at the end of each section three central questions: how does this thinker contribute to our understanding of community? Does his approach lead to the diminishment of violence? Does it facilitate peace?For the first quarter of the book, Herman explores various aspects of community. Drawing from Erich Fromm, Socrates, and Aldous Huxley, he demonstrates that out of enlightened self-interest, all people seek peace for themselves. He is careful to point out, however, that the Socratic virtues of wisdom, courage, self-control, and justice, which arise from within, are far superior to the uniformity of the World State as described in Huxley's Brave New World, which leaves nothing uncontrolled by the external authorities. Both lead to nonviolence and peace, but the World State can fall prey to what Fromm terms cultural insanity.Supplementing his discussion of Aldo Leopold with references to the work of Rachel Carson and J. Baird Callicott, Herman emphasizes that ideas of community peace must be informed by holistic structures of nature, particularly as articulated in Leopold's Sand County Almanac. However, he also warns that if the welfare of the biotic community takes precedence over all other concerns, then society could fall into a state of ecofascism.Herman's chapter on Mahatma Gandhi ably summarizes the life and works of this great political reformer, with particular focus on his formative years in South Africa. Influenced by John Ruskin and Leo Tolstoy, Gandhi developed the concept of the "Ashramic community," a means of collective, intentional living designed to effect social change. After describing the Phoenix Settlement (1904, Johannesburg), the Sabarmati Ashram (1915, Ahmedabad), and Sevagram Ashram (1933, Wardha), Herman presents a fifteen-page play script based on the Asian travel diaries of Professor George P. Conger, chair of philosophy at the University of Minnesota from 1937-1953. Conger spent two months at Gandhi's ashram in Wardha, India, in 1933, and in the play called "Salt," his students take up issues including the ill treatment of Jews in Germany, the definition of nonviolence, and emphasized, as does Gandhi, the necessity for self-transformation to achieve personal and community peace.Martin Luther King Jr. inspired by the example of Mahatma Gandhi, employed nonviolent techniques to bring about the many successes of the American Civil Rights Movement. Herman provides a brief biography of Martin Luther King Jr., quotes several of his pivotal sermons, and emphasizes the notion of beloved community as critical to King's thinking. He writes that "in King's interpretation of agape, it is your being loved that gives you value; and it is your selflessly loving others that gives them value and makes the beloved community possible" (p. 138). According to King, fear and racial discrimination prevent one from entering into the beloved community. By changing laws, and, more importantly, changing the hearts of individual people, a more peaceful community can be built.The least successful chapter of this book discusses Gautama Buddha and the "karmic community." Rather than focusing directly on Buddhist theories of Karma, Herman engages in a long discussion of the Bhagavad Gita, an important Hindu text, as a foil to explain Buddhist theories... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Toward Thriving Communities: Virtue Ethics as Social Ethics by Brian StiltnerChristine DarrToward Thriving Communities: Virtue Ethics as Social Ethics Brian Stiltner WINONA, MN: ANSELM ACADEMIC, 2016. 271 PP. $28.95Brian Stiltner's text provides a clear introduction to the theoretical framework of virtue ethics and how that framework can be fruitfully applied to understand the interplay between individual character development and flourishing, and the flourishing (or not) of communities (...) to which those individuals belong. He breaks this task into two parts. In the first, Stiltner offers an introduction to the field of ethics in its personal, communal, and social dimensions. He discusses the three normative ethical theories most prominent in the West (deontological, consequentialist, and virtue ethics) and then applies these theories to a case study to examine the strengths and weakness of each. He then argues that, while applied ethicists often recommend employing all three approaches into the decision-making process, a person who wishes to make [End Page 198] formal ethical arguments must ultimately choose which framework to favor. In Stiltner's view, the framework of virtue ethics is best able to address the social and communal dimensions of ethics, which is the focus of the second part of the book.In the latter half of the first part, Stiltner describes the cultivation of virtue and examines specific categories—namely, virtues of care, respect, purpose, perceiving and reasoning, and acting and relating. The lynchpin between the first and second parts of the text is Stiltner's elucidation of human flourishing, in which he begins to link individual flourishing with the flourishing of communities. He draws heavily on Martha Nussbaum's capabilities approach to explain how individual flourishing can be enhanced or diminished by the communities of which one is a part. Finally, he argues that some groups perform as "mediating institutions" wherein "the pro-social influences of the virtues instilled in people in one communal context transfer to other contexts as the individuals participate in many associations," thereby influencing society as a whole (105).Following the primarily theoretical first part, the focus of the second part is how to apply those theoretical principles to actual communities. He describes his objective here as "recommend[ing] ethical principles and concrete practices that will help persons, groups, and societies to flourish" (131). He examines four specific types of mediating institutions—families, schools, work, and service—and follows the same pattern of analysis for each. He provides a brief sociological account of the group, then scrutinizes the ethical impact of the reciprocal relationships of persons to groups and groups to society. He then discusses a case study that highlights some of the challenges in each particular institution and what resources are available to individuals and institutions that could overcome those challenges.Stiltner's text is an excellent introduction to the field of virtue ethics for an undergraduate audience. One particular strength is his discussion of many contemporary voices from the fields of ethics, philosophy, and sociology—from Nussbaum to Robert Putnam, his reliance on fields outside of ethical theory proper strengthens and broadens his analysis significantly. In addition, he provides ample resources along the way for the reader. Each chapter begins with a boxed overview of the chapter and ends with questions for review and discussion as well as resources for further research. The text does not specifically address the spiritual dimension of ethical development or the role of religion as a mediating institution; while this is not necessarily a weakness, one should know this is not specifically a Christian ethical analysis. Nevertheless, I strongly recommend this text for an introduction to ethics course or as a resource for undergraduates studying sociology or social work. [End Page 199]Christine DarrUniversity of DubuqueCopyright © 2017 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Frames, Contexts, Community, JusticeRanjana Khanna (bio)There is a photograph of Jacques Derrida, aged about three, in a toy car at his childhood home in Algiers [fig. 1]. It is not an unusual photograph; in fact, its typicality is striking. It is the kind of photograph one might find in most family albums. Little boys are often found in toy cars, just as little girls are frequently holding a (...) doll, or dancing.1 The codes of a family album, transposed to an academic album, highlight the manner in which typicality itself tells a story of framing, of gendered gestures, of senses of belonging, of familial legend making, and of intellectual genealogy.2 And such codes provide a frame for a general contextual understanding of the photograph and therefore [End Page 11] Click for larger view View full resolutionFigure 1.Photograph of Jacques Derrida aged 3. Printed in Geoffrey Bennington and Jacques Derrida, Jacques Derrida (Paris: Seuil, 1991) 9.[End Page 12]for what Barthes calls its studium.3 But, as Barthes remarked in his Camera Lucida, a book about photography and about his dead mother, there is frequently something else in a photograph: the punctum. It wounds a viewer, and remains in the viewer's memory when he or she looks away from the photograph. It is a singular relationality, and, for the mourning Barthes, encloses the possibility of a hopeful reciprocity. For me, however, beyond the gendered coding of this photograph, it is not the promise of a reciprocity, but the demand of something unknowable that exists potentially beyond the frame of the photograph. A rectangular void that appears to be the back window of a large car opens onto an unknown. The opening itself is a wounding of the frame.The photograph includes multiple frames, in the sense that a doubling occurs with one frame in the foreground, with Derrida in his toy car, and another frame in the background, with a real car. The child in his car is enclosed in this scene through perpendicular lines, as if framing him in a safe world. The real car is separated by these lines, as if in a square on its own. And through the rear window of this car, there is another enclosure, a rectangular opening, which alerts the viewer to an infinite regression of frames, each enclosing its own image and its own universe, each thematizing the mobility that suggests it could move beyond its immediate frame. This superimposition of a toy car onto an adult scene of mobility not only alerts the viewer to the thematic exploration of infinite generational migration and immigration but also presents us with a visual doubling and echoing, itself suggesting the excess that always exceeds the frame. The frame may appear to exist on its own terms, permitting or excluding hospitality to its hostile excess, and yet what persists in this photograph is the permeability of the frame and its necessary acknowledgment of the other at its border, which both frames and unframes.A frame both determines and supplements meaning. It is both host to meaning and simultaneously hostile to its narrow condition. This rendition of the frame visualizes both its enclosed protective nature as host, and its permeability to the outside, to a potentially hostile supplement. Derrida's thinking has explored the concepts of framing and hospitality in a manner that has often called attention to, and yet not engaged with, women as a sometimes hostile supplement. The concept of hospitality, whether political, academic, domestic, or psychical, has allowed, however, for a consideration of something that supplements this thinking, and indeed this boyhood photograph of potential mobility: the various frames in which Algerian women have been situated, and their different relation to gesture, mobility, and symbolization in the modern period. This article engages with Derrida's work on framing and hospitality in order to reach its supplement, allowing for a consideration of the political stakes of doing feminist work across borders. The stakes of the philosophical apparatus that seem pertinent to the ethical work of postcolonial feminism are permeated with questions of framing and hospitality. Academic hospitality means an openness to one's subject matter, which would include... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Broken Bodies and Healing Communities: The Challenge of HIV and AIDS in the South African ContextEmily Reimer-BarryBroken Bodies and Healing Communities: The Challenge of HIV and AIDS in the South African Context Edited by Neville Richardson Pietermaritzburg, South Africa: Cluster Publications, 2009. 209 pp. $12.00.The township of Mpophomeni, like many communities in South Africa, has been tragically devastated by HIV/AIDS. Christian churches in the region have responded (...) to this ongoing crisis in a variety of ways. In this collection of essays, edited by Neville Richardson, a team of international scholars from various subfields has combined ethnography and qualitative research with theology, with the goal of understanding how Christian churches have responded to the needs of the people of Mpophomeni. This book is the result of a two-year collaborative research project. The title of the book alerts the reader to two major themes of the unfolding narrative: the reality of brokenness, suffering, and sin (individual, interpersonal, social, and ecclesial) and the goal of healing (again, individual, interpersonal, social, and ecclesial). The ten chapters, individually authored, are divided thematically into three sections: Part 1, “Healing and Community: Perspectives from Zulu Culture and Religion”; Part 2, “Caring, Healing and Faith Communities”; and Part 3, “Caring and Community: Training in a Hospital Setting.” As perhaps expected, the authors’ conclusions remain ambivalent. James R. Cochrane explains: “Religion per se is not innocent of breaking bodies, which should always stand as a warning to us. But religion per se is also the source of healing; indeed, in some ways it is all about healing or wholeness, in relation to the sacred” (115). Churches in Mpophomeni have been “protective spaces” (11), “bridging communities” (91), and “broken bodies” that remember and re-member “the broken body of Jesus” (145–51). But communities are also in flux (101) and are sources of discourse that stigmatizes and shames (172).The book presents clearly argued and compelling essays that work independently and could be read or adopted for class as individual essays. The authors approach some of the same difficult questions from different vantage points, methodological foundations, and subdisciplines. For example, in the first two chapters Sidsel Roalkvam and Jone Salomonsen describe the many social problems in Mpophomeni, including poverty, unemployment, gender inequalities, sexual violence, drug and alcohol addiction, and criminal violence. But their [End Page 225] ethnographic research uncovers some of the rituals of healing that help the community to cope, including the practice of communal “strong prayer” (11–15), and uMemulo rite of passage for girls (23–37).However, I wish there were more coherent conversation between the authors of each individual essay. While Richardson explains that the research was collaborative “not only in terms of interaction between the researchers and the community but also among the researchers themselves” (ix), this collaboration between the researchers is not obvious to the reader in the final format of the book. Perhaps another book format would have more fruitfully conveyed this collaborative stance (for example, the inclusion of responses to each chapter or the addition of a roundtable discussion chapter or coauthored chapters).The ethnographic data presented in the third section is particularly rich and challenging for theology, but the authors could have spent more time unpacking, contextualizing, and analyzing the included quotations from patient–chaplain conversations. If, for example, the story of a thirty-three-year-old HIV+ man who allegedly raped a fifteen-year-old girl to give her “a good lesson for her life” so that she will not dress provocatively is “very characteristic of the material” in the study (203–5), much more needs to be said to explain how pastoral care interventions can address the stated “gender inequalities and the drastically different roles of men and women resulting in the vulnerable position of women” (206).The book is a must-read for scholars working on HIV/AIDS and Christian ethics. It could also provide supplemental readings for an undergraduate or graduate course in this area. [End Page 226]Emily Reimer-BarryUniversity of San DiegoCopyright © 2012 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:SPACE-TIME AND THE COMMUNITY OF BEINGS: SOME COSMOLOGICAL SPECULATIONS INTRODUCTION XERT EINSTEIN, in his essay "Relativity and the Problem of Space," makes several interesting comments on the implications of relativity theory for the Newtonian concepts of absolute space and time. Among these are the following: Since the special theory of relativity revealed the physical equivalence of all inertial systems, it proved the untenability of the hypothesis of an (...) aether at rest. It was therefore necessary to renounce the idea that the electromagnetic field is to be regarded as a state of a material carrier. The field then becomes an irreducible element of physical description, irreducible in the same sense as the concept of matter in the theory of Newton.1 On the basis of the general theory of relativity..., space, as opposed to" what fills space," which is dependent on the coorrdinates, has no separate existence.2 There is no such thing as empty space, i.e., a space without field. Space-time does not claim existence on its own but only as a structural quality of the field. Thus Descartes was not so far from the truth when he believed he must exclude the existence of an empty space. The notion indeed appears absurd, as long as physical reality is seen exclusively in ponderable bodies. It requires the idea of the field as the representative of reality, in combination with the general principle of relativity, to show the true kernel of Descartes' idea; there exists no space " empty of field." 3 1 Albert Einstein, Relativity: The Special and the General Theory (New York, 1961), pp. 149-150. 2 Ibid., p. 155. s Ibid., pp. 155-156. 480 SPACE-TIME AND THE COMMUNITY OF BEING 481 Space-time is not necessarily something to which one can ascribe a separate existence, independently of the actual objects of physical reality. Physical objects are not in space, but these objects are spatially extended. In this way, the concept "empty space " loses its meaning.4 These statements raise some interesting questions for the philosopher working within the Judaeo-Christian metaphysical and cosmological tradition. Einstein's concept of the spacetime continuum constituted by the field (or by the plurality of fields seen as interrelated) amounts in effect to a reduction of space-time to relation, to that which is constituted by a universal relational network. One may ask whether this concept is, as many seem to believe, a demolition of the classical and Christian view of the world, or whether, on the contrary, it amounts to a rediscovery of that view from the perspective of the vocabulary of contemporary physics. To ask the question in a slightly different way: Does relativity have anything to do with relativism and hence with the anti-ontological thrust of the latter? This question inevitably involves us in the more general question how the physical structure of the cosmos does or does not reflect the ontological structure of being-i.e., how is the cosmos as known by physics related to the world-order as the intelligible object of a philosophical cosmology? How are the various levels of cosmic order, from inorganic matter to the human level, related to one another? It will be the contention of the present essay that the relativistic concept of the cosmos not only is not destructive of the classical and Christian one, but converges with it, because the latter is grounded in the concept of being as being, and being in turn must be understood as the universal concept and reality which has reality by virtue of the community of beings, i.e., by virtue of relation. These concepts will be further clarified in the course of the discussion. Let it be clearly understood, however, that what follows does not pretend to constitute a rigorous logical derivation of a cosmological system but is 4 Ibid.," Note to the Fifteenth Edition," p. vi. 482 GEORGE A. KENDALL rather a series of speculations, of brief glimpses of areas of convergence which have drawn attention to themselves in the course of the struggle for ontological and cosmological truth. As such, they are presented as a step along the way in the search for understanding, not as... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:REVIEW SYMPOSIUM 327 claims. And both these tasks, perhaps more especially the former, are of urgent importance for the Christian theological community today. University of Notre Dame Notre Dame, Indiana PAUL J. GRIFFITHS WII,LIAM CHRISTIAN AND COMMUNITY DOCTRINES W ILLIAM CHRISTIAN'S book Doctrines of Religious Communities * is a vital contribution to the philosophy of religion, for a number of reasons. First, it goes beyond the individualism that (...) secretly underlies much writing in the field, where in effect the reader is invited to make judgments in isolation. Here he consciously addresses the problems raised by supposing realistically that we are dealing for the most part with more or less recognizable traditions and subtraditions embodied in various communities. Second, the logic of doctrinal claims has not been explored systematically before in relation to both their truth (or rightness, where they incorporate practical tenets) and their authenticity, as genuine do.ctrines of a given community. Third, the book raises some vital questions about the present shape of the world. For instance, the way in which the analysis fits non-religious but analogous cases (e.g. Romanian Marxism) is important; as also the question of how modern eclecticism fits into the picture. Moreover, it leads us to reflect on what happens when a community cannot decide whether certain doctrines or claims are authentic. One of the models Christian contemplates is represented as T/R-A, namely "}'or any sentence (s), ifs is true or right, then s is an authentic doctrine of the community": he offers this as a logical possibility though it is quite doubtful if any community holds it. He uses it to illuminate the alternative A-T/R. It is possible of course to make T/R-A more plausible by placing a restriction on the kind of truth or rightness involved, namely if it "New Haven: Yale University Press, 1987. 328 REVIEW SYMPOSIUM were in the same class as community doctrines, as defining a worldview and mode of conduct. Most truths of science would not be included, but some generalizations might he, e.g. statements about the srale of the universe or the evolution of homo sapiens which might be held to possess existential impact and a cosmological significance relevant to humanity's "place" in the universe. Christian deals with such problems in treating what he describes as alien secular claims, that is, claims which arise out of secular knowledge, and which may attract a positive evaJuation from the religious community. The evaluation itself would belong to the community 's doctrines and it would (let us suppose) commend the findings of science, for example as aiding a more discriminating worship of the Creator. But I think there is a discomfort in spiritual and intellectual life which arises because we typically belong to more than one community. Let us look upon the most typical primary communities as being four in number-the religious (or ideological) community, the nation, the world of science and practical knowledge, and humanity as a whole. the last is less developed in much human consciousness, but it is at least flickeringly there in most human beings. In modem times loyalties have been sectionalized by the nation State, which is manifested in a mosaic across the planet's surface embracing all human beings. Now it is often the case, and was more so in the past, that nation and religion were made artificially to coincide: to be an English citizen was to be an Anglican: as now you are supposed to be a Marxist if you are a Romanian. At the same time in most countries, through the agency of the State, there is universal education in which to some degree or other a person is inducted into the community of science and practical knowledge. The different communities tend to be in conflict, and so the individual is easily tom. Let me first, before tackling these issues, say a word about the notions of religion and ideology. It appears to me obvious that in many respects ideologies such as Marxism fulfil a function, or set of functions, very similar to those fulfilled by religions. Moreover, Marxisms are often in severe conflict with, and opposition to, religions... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Rhetoric of Narrating Communal History in the Nineteenth-Century Finnish Historical NovelMari Hatavara (bio)Det var en mulen och dyster afton om våren 1718. Klockan knäppte fem minuter till sex i salen på den ståtliga herrgård, som tillhört den stolte Baronen Göran Boije, och som nu ägdes af hans enka, fru Catharina Boije. I detsamma hördes en klocka ringa gårdsfolket tillsamman för aftonbönen. I nedra ändan af salen samlades (...) med sakta steg allt gårdsfolket i tyst förbidan. Nu slog vägguret sex. […]It was a cloudy and dreary evening in the spring of 1718. The clock turned five to six in the great hall of the stately manor which once had belonged to the proud Baron Göran Boije, and which now was in the possession of his widow, Lady Catharina Boije. At the very moment, a bell was heard to summon all the folk together for an evening prayer. The servants gathered in the lower end of the hall with silent footsteps in a quiet waiting. The clock struck six now. […](All translations mine.)Finland's first historical novel, Fredrika Runeberg's Fru Catharina Boije och hennes döttrar (Lady Catharina Boije and Her Daughters) (1858),1 begins with this passage after a short frame narrative. The very first sentence provides the date where the story-world is set, and the lines following describe a setting suitable for that period of time. This is in accordance with the generic tradition of the historical novel. Even if the historical novel has very few characters whom theorists would agree upon, most theories of historical novel concur on the statement that the genre is "by definition referential, gesturing toward a world commonly understood to have existed" (Maxwell 545). This emphasis on the story-world has dominated the study of the historical novel. What I want to stress, however, are the specific ways in which a historical novel—to use Richard Maxwell's words—gestures toward this commonly comprehensible, preexistent world. How is the story-world made understandable to a reader and offered as the past? I want to demonstrate the importance of the literary means that help mediate between the past of the story-world and the present of the reader.The passage above begins with the retrospective view: the narrator refers to a date over two hundred years ago, and the passage is in the past tense. The text does, however, also apply expressions like "now." This indicates a point of view that is present in the story-world, at least in terms of temporality. The impression of a viewpoint present in the story-world is further emphasized by the frequent references to aural experience; the [End Page 21] sounds heard (the bell and the clock) and not heard (silent footsteps and quiet waiting) offer the reader an interpretative position that takes her into the story-world through experience. The origin of the experience, however, is not specified. Two questions arise that are crucial to my argument: Is the experiencing subject located temporally in the story-time or in the narrator's retrospective time? Is there a single experiencing subject? While the first question tackles the relationship between the past tense and the deictic markers indicating the present ("now"), the second question is concerned with features like the hearing of the sound of the bell in the passage: because the hearing is depicted in the passive mode, the hearer could be anybody or everybody.These two questions, the first about temporality and the second about the experiencing subject, intersect in the study of narrative identity. Alan Palmer suggests that in current research on narrative literature the individual consciousness has been emphasized at the expense of the social, and he stresses the importance of studying the latter (136). Still, individual and social modes of narrativizing one's past and present share common features, with the most important one perhaps being the need to mediate between different levels of time. Whereas self-narrations attempt to bridge the gap between the former, experiencing I, and the present, narrating I, historical narratives attempt to bridge the gap between characters experiencing the... (shrink)

Monique Demarle-Casadebaig Le questionnement de la philosophie s’est traduit par des lieux communs de problèmes et d’arguments dont l’intelligence ne dépend pas de leur expression dans une langue particulière. On veut faire reconnaître par cet article un tel locus communis philosophiae dans l’argument de Gongsun Long de 公孫龍, d’après lequel « cheval blanc n’est pas cheval ». Gongsun Long, déjà assimilé à un « disputeur » en Chine, a été exilé du champ de la philosophie en Europe en tant que (...) « sophiste ». On montre pourtant que son argument concerne un problème analogue à celui qui a conduit Aristote à faire la distinction entre prédication essentielle et accidentelle ou celui qui a conduit Husserl à parler de ce que vise l’« intuition catégoriale ». Mais la leçon proprement chinoise de son propos tient peut-être alors en son indifférence au choix entre le primat de l’être sur la conscience, selon Aristote, ou de la conscience sur l’être, selon Husserl. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 35.1 (2002) 1-21 [Access article in PDF] Turning Kant Against the Priority of Autonomy: Communication Ethics and the Duty to Community Pat J. Gehrke Communication ethics scholars afford Immanuel Kant significantly less attention than one might expect. This may be because, as Robert Dostal notes, Kant argues that rhetoric merits no respect whatsoever (223). This rejection of rhetoric, Dostal writes, is grounded in the significant (...) emphasis given to Kant's concept of autonomy (232). The focus on autonomy and, hence, rhetoricians' relative neglect of Kant's ethical theory are both connected to the separation of Kant's Critique of Pure Reason (hereinafter CPuR) from his subsequent ethical and moral philosophy. Kenneth Burke writes that Kant's first critique has no ethical implications, "no 'wills,' 'oughts,' 'shoulds,' or 'thou shalt nots'... nothing but an inevitable is, a description of conditions as they necessarily are for human experience" (191; emphasis in original). Such readings lose much of the richness and complexity of Kant's thought and tend instead to produce simple moral duties, such as Mike Markel's assertion that technical communicators must be truthful.Perhaps the most critical element of Kant's work lost in our focus on autonomy is his articulation of a ground for a duty to community. While Kant makes clear the importance of community for his metaphysics in the first critique (CPuR), the importance of community in Kant's moral philosophy often is overlooked. Some scholars claim that an ethical duty to community is either rejected by Kant's emphasis on the autonomy of will or simply ignored. This article combines a reading of Kant's metaphysics of experience with his moral philosophy to articulate a communication ethic grounded in community. This argument is made in three parts: first, the community of objects in experience—the Third Analogy of Experience—is an organizing principle of and a necessary condition for the possibility of all experience; second, this metaphysical principle of community is relevant [End Page 1] to community as developed in Kant's ethical writings; and finally, Kant's own work undermines the primacy of autonomy and better supports a communication ethic grounded in a duty to community.Scholars interested in Jurgen Habermas's theory of communicative action have special reason to take note of Kant's work. Kant is not only a figure that Habermas sees reflected in his own work, 1 but a constant point of contrast. Craig Calhoun writes that much of Habermas's own philosophy emerges by rejecting Kant's epistemology and elements of his metaphysics while still giving credence to Kantian moral philosophy (2). However, like most communication scholars and philosophers, Habermas believes that autonomy governs Kantian ethics: "Formalistic ethics (Kant) binds the criterion of generality of norms to the further criterion of autonomy, that is, independence from contingent motives" (Habermas, Legitimation 89). Since autonomy excludes or represses the contingent, if our readings of Kant give primacy to autonomy we leave little room for any notion of community as manifest in experience. In no small part, it is the criticism of Kant for privileging autonomy that has given Habermasians their break from Kantian ethics. However, if we turn to the first critique to guide our reading of the moral philosophy, there is another way to understand the role of autonomy and community in Kant's thought. By linking Kant's metaphysics with his moral philosophy, this article turns Kant away from the primacy of autonomy and uses Kant's own works to argue that autonomy is but one half of an antinomy that is organized under the principle of community. Thus, this article recuperates the possibility of deploying Kantian metaphysics and moral philosophy together as grounds for a communication ethic that privileges community and recovers the value of rhetoric.For rhetorical scholars, the resistance to the priority of autonomy may be related to the frequent expression of community through appeal to commonality, sameness, or identification. Today, feminist, race, postmodern, and poststructural communication scholars are questioning the value of commonality as a ground for ethics (e... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Living into Community: Cultivating Practices That Sustain Us by Christine D. PohlAndrew WattsLiving into Community: Cultivating Practices That Sustain Us CHRISTINE D. POHL Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012. 176 pp. $15.00With Living into Community: Cultivating Practices That Sustain Us, Christine Pohl provides a useful and accessible companion to her first book, Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Practice (Eerdmans, 1999). Concerned that “church and culture have (...) not provided the skills or virtues for us to be part of the very communities we long for and try to create” (4), she again challenges the identity of the Christian community. She likewise draws again upon the rich contributions of John Calvin and John Wesley as well as Catholic social movements such as L’Arche as she examines three core practices that engender hospitality: gratitude, promise-keeping, and truth-telling.This book grew out of a grant to participate in the Lilly Endowment project, “Sustaining Pastoral Excellence.” In partnership with her church, Pohl gathered a group of pastors, leaders of intentional communities, and seminary professors to think about gratitude, promise-keeping, truth-telling, and hospitality. The group met for three days twice a year, sharing and reflecting on examples of these practices in their ministries. Pohl provides the practical and theological fruit of their conversations, hoping this work will be used by leaders and members to strengthen their communities. She lays out three sections of three chapters each addressing gratitude, promise-keeping, and truth-telling. Each chapter works from the previous one, examining the practices from historical, biblical, theological, and philosophical perspectives. The last section on hospitality integrates the previous ones rather than simply reworking her previous published material. The book is strengthened by Pohl’s ability to connect together various scholarly and pastoral threads—an ability aided by the practical wisdom of a good working group—to offer helpful practical insights.For example, in the first chapter on gratitude, “Grateful Hearts,” she examines the theological attitudes of gratitude, generosity, and debt contrasted with entitlement and dissatisfaction, or grumbling—ever-present cultural complications for “good” and “holy” communities. In the second section, “Promise-Keeping,” she works through different kinds of promises in order to initiate [End Page 245] the hard work of communal reflection. There, rather than resting in the beautiful but abstract insights of thinkers such as Margaret Farley and Hannah Arendt, she distinguishes contractual and covenantal promises from one another and describes their consequences.Throughout the first two sections, qualities of contemporary culture—individualism, freedom, autonomy, mobility, distrust of institutions—affect and deform the practices of gratitude and promise-keeping essential to healthy and faithful communities. This attention to contemporary culture produces vital insight for the section on promise-keeping: while most Christian organizations appear to operate with covenantal expectations, “we actually work with a hybrid of covenantal and contractual obligations” (78). This “contemporary confusion” can lead to betrayal and loss and impede the mediation of fierce disagreements.Although Pohl provides helpful biblical narrative to support her analysis of each practice, she does not provide an adequate analysis of contemporary culture. One suspects that for Pohl—much like H. Richard Niebuhr—culture exists as a construct external to the well-formed community. It appears responsible for many of the attitudes deforming the essential practices she examines. Yet this suspicion is never fully confirmed, in part because she addresses sin as a present deforming power.Perhaps the most eloquent analysis in the book is found in its discussion of truth-telling. Rather than concede to Augustine’s (theological) or Immanuel Kant’s (rational) prohibition against lying, Pohl turns to Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s invocation of the concrete situation to analyze the practice of truth-telling. Only a community that places truthfulness within the context of covenantal relationships can deal redemptively with deception and wrongdoing. Several of her examples help the reader understand the uniqueness of this practice for healthy communities. [End Page 246]Andrew WattsBelmont UniversityCopyright © 2014 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

Les médias de communication numérique à distance et les créations logicielles de communication entre les individus qui ont émergé ces trente dernières années ont entrainé un développement sans précédent de nouvelles technologies de l’écrit et de l’écriture ainsi qu’une retextualisation des échanges concomitante à une dématérialisation du contexte. Or, la dématérialisation du contexte propre à ces environnements complexifie de manière exponentielle sa compréhension, multipliant les risques de malentendus, de décalages, d’incompréhension. Les personnes qui communiquent n’étant pas physiquement présentes l’une à (...) l’autre, leur rencontre s’effectue et se matérialise _via_ un texte. La textualité devient dès lors un nouveau mode de rencontre, dont le texte est le lieu. Le fait que nous imaginions la communication comme si elle était instantanée développe une compréhension textuelle du message, dans l’instant où nous le lisons, qui est propre à la réception. Tous ces échanges reposent sur un... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Diacritics 29.4 (1999) 58-83 [Access article in PDF] Imagi-Nation: The Imagined Community and the Aesthetics of Mourning Marc Redfield Of the many relics of the Romantic era that continue to shape our (post)modernity, the nation-state surely ranks among the most significant. Two decades ago Benedict Anderson commented that "'the end of the era of nationalism,' so long prophesied, is not remotely in sight" [IC 3], and the intervening (...) years have made it increasingly clear that the developments and processes we summarize as "globalization" operate in mingled synchrony and tension with the political form of the nation-state. 1 That the nation-state should remain the premier vehicle of political and economic legitimation in an era dominated by American imperialism and international capital--forces that, of course, regularly and flagrantly violate the sovereignty of disadvantaged nations--is unsurprising if one accepts the continuing pertinency and power of a Western master-narrative of modernity, according to which the nation represents the emergence of a people into history and prefigures the global achievement of universal human concord. As the proper subject of history, the nation-state can prefigure history's end because, as David Lloyd writes, "the particularism of [nationalism's] contents, potentially in contradiction with the universalism of modernity, is subsumed in the formal congruence between its own narratives of identity, directed at one people, and the narrative of identity that universal history represents for humanity in general" ["Nationalisms" 178]. Lloyd goes on to note that the nation's intermediate status in this narrative--halfway between primitive tribalism and modernity's ever-deferred perpetual peace--accounts for nationalism's irreducibly double association with modernization and atavism. In consequence, the modernist paradigm continues to rule many skeptical or hostile accounts of nationalism, for so long as the nation-state is taken to supersede other political or social formations, the cosmopolitan critique fails to challenge "the fundamental philosophy of universal history that underwrites nationalism's inscription in modernity" ["Nationalisms" 177]. Indeed, both in the corporate media and in mainstream Western political discourse generally, nations and nationalisms are commonly treated as atavistic or progressive depending on the degree to which their behavior harmonizes with globalizing imperatives. That these imperatives emanate quite blatantly from Wall Street in no way seriously troubles the effectiveness of modernity as a narrative paradigm. 2Seeking to discredit universalizing narrative, much cultural criticism in recent years has exchanged cosmopolitanism and the abstract question of "nationalism" for an emphasis [End Page 58] on the contextual construction of national movements or identities. 3 This valuable body of work has sought to recover the particularity of cultural and socioeconomic circumstance, stressed the fundamental role of racism in colonialist contexts, and noted ways in which nationalist movements draw on or unleash forms of resistance that challenge representationalist politics. The pages that follow, however, remain focused on the nationalist fantasy proper to the discourse of modernity. Cultural critique can only profit from knowing as much as possible about the favored turns of the universal-historicist model, particularly since, as Lloyd and others have emphasized, this model is an aesthetic one that grants a world-historical role to "culture." The state, in a tradition that in its main lines runs from Schiller through Hegel and Matthew Arnold and is still very much alive today, represents the community to itself, thereby giving the community form and in a certain sense giving it an ethical imperative and a future: the state represents "our best self" [Arnold 99, passim], "the archetype of a human being" [Schiller 17], because it signifies the formal unification both of the citizen with the community and of the community with universal humanity. Because this unification is ideal rather than actual, it can be projected as the ethical terminus of history (that is, as the ideal of an accomplished modernity). The state's core mission thus becomes pedagogical: its job is to acculturate its subjects into citizens. The production of a docile citizenry thereby obtains an ethical aura and an aesthetic character, insofar as the artwork and the domain of aesthetic or "cultural" experience generally become... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:LANGUAGE, COMMUNICATION, AND REPRESENTATION IN THE SEMIOTIC OF JOHN POINSOT1 }AMES BERNARD MURPHY Dartmouth College Hanover, New Hampshire 1) Language and the Semiotic of John Poinsot HE SEMIOTIC of John Poinsot is to the study of gns what physics is to the study of nature. Physics is oth the most fundamental and the most general science of nature. All natural processes, from the motion of planets to the (...) division of cells, are governed by, but not only by, laws of physics. Similarly, the semiotic of John Poinsot (traditionally known by his Dominican name, John of St. Thomas) is the most fundamental and general science of signs. The actions of all signs -from natural signs such as footprints and symptoms of disease, to signs of communication, such as logical operators and linguistic signs, to signs in cognition, such as concepts and percepts -are governed by, but not only by, the fundamental relational logic of semiosis set forth in his Ars Logica [1632]. If C. S. Peirce can be said to give us a chemistry of sixty-six signcompounds, John Poinsot, suitably revised, gives us the basic physical laws of motion that bring sign, object, and mind into relation.2 i The author would like to acknowledge gratefully the fellowships received from the American Council of Learned Societies and from Dartmouth College supporting the research of this article. I also wish to acknowledge the help of my research assistant, Daniel Glazer, in hunting down many essential books and articles. John Deely assisted by correcting my discussion of some of the finer points of Poinsot's theory as well as by providing many other helpful suggestions for revision. 2 The first modern author to point this out was Jacques Maritain, especially in "Signe et symbole," Revue Thomiste 44 (April 1938), pp. 299-300 and 569 570 JAMES BERNARD MURPHY What I wish to explore here is the question: To what extent does the semiotic of John Poinsot account for the meaning of linguistic signs? In one sense, we cannot expect such a fundamental and general theory of the action of signs to tell us much about language. Language is a surpassingly complex and, in many ways, a unique sign-system. Expecting a general theory of signs to capture the meaning of the linguistic sign is like expecting physics to explain reproductive biology. In another sense, though, we ought to expect his semiotic to illuminate that preeminent system of signs, human language. For in addition to "Le Langage et la theorie du signe," Anne.:re au chapitre II of Quatre essais sur!'esprit dans sa condition charnelle (Nouvelle edition revue et augmentee; Paris: Alsatia, 1956), pp. 113-124. This latter essay appears in a modestly amplified English version, " Language and the Theory of Sign," from Language : An Enquiry into Its Meaning and Function, edited by Ruth Nanda Anshen (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1957), pp. 86-101; and, fully annotated in relation to Poinsot's Tractatus de Signis, it has been reprinted in Frontiers in Semiotics, edited by John Deely, Brooke Williams, and Felicia Kruse (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1986), pp. 51-62. Following Maritain, a number of authors have attempted to apply Poinsot's semiotic to contemporary debates. I note the principal ones in chronological order: John A. Oesterle, " Another Approach to the Problem of Meaning," The Thomist 7 (1944), pp. 233-263; John Wild, "An Introduction to the Phenomenology of Signs," Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 8 (December 1947), pp. 217-244; Henry B. Veatch, Intentional Logic (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1952). Poinsot's Treatise on Signs was originally published in 1632 as a small part of volume 2 in the original five volumes (Alcala, Spain: 1631-1635) of his philosophical writings. These five volumes have been published as three volumes under the title Cursus Philosophicus Thomisticus in the modern edition by Beatus Reiser (Turin: Marietti, 1930, 1933, 1937). The first independent presentation of Poinsot's complete Tractatus de Signis was prepared by John Deely in consultation with Ralph A. Powell and published in bilingual critical edition (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985). Since the publication of this edition of the Tractatus, two major critiques and reconstructions of Poinsot's analysis... (shrink)

L'article explicite un certain nombre de principes de nature à rendre possible une connaissance à la fois critique et positive de la communication d'entreprise. Il souligne la nécessité de rompre tant avec les modèles sociologiques et économiques usuels qu'avec les lieux communs et les discours d'acteurs qui ne visent souvent que leur propre promotion. Il invite ainsi à renouer avec des démarches socio-économiques qui permettent de comprendre à quelles nécessités a pu correspondre le développement de la communication, à quelle visée (...) pratique répond son déploiement organisationnel, et à quels jeux stratégiques associant salariés et employeurs elle donne lieu.Article explicit a number of principles to make possible a knowledge of both critical and positive communication business. He stressed the need to break with both sociological and economic models with the usual platitudes and speeches of actors who are often their own promotion. It invites to revive socio-economic approaches to understanding what needs to match has been the development of communication, which referred practical deployment meets organizational and what strategic games involving employees and employers it gives rise. (shrink)

Pour la plupart des exégètes modernes, la pensée économique grecque se trouve exclusivement dans les traités « oikonomiques », et son objet se limite à l’économie domestique. Pourtant, cette pensée économique offre également une dimension politique, présente aussi bien dans ces traités spécialisés que dans des textes politiques consacrés à l’organisation de la cité. Cette dimension politique de la pensée économique antique consiste en particulier à s’interroger sur la proximité et la différence entre l’oikos et la polis, et entre le (...) domaine économique et le domaine politique. Après en avoir donné des exemples provenant de diverses traditions philosophiques antiques, je montrerai plus particulièrement que chez Xénophon et Platon, les rapports entre ces deux sphères se présentent sous deux formes principales : une similitude étroite ou une différence articulée. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Richard Eldridge SELF-UNDERSTANDING AND COMMUNITY IN WORDSWORTH'S POETRY Prior to die rise of modern science in die seventeenth century, to understand oneself was to know one's place in a ideologically organized universe. Human actions, together with natural events in general, were intelligible as aiming at the realization of given purposes or ends. To be a human person was to have a particular sort ofend: intellectual contemplation, according to (...) Aristotle, or oneness with God, according to Augustine. Self-knowledge becomes problematic, however, once events in nature are conceived in terms of the new physics to be only materially caused, not purposive. Given that human actions are events in nature, physical explanations then seem to be both necessary and sufficient for understanding them. It then becomes no longer possible to understand and explain one's actions as grounded in a partial grasp of an intelligible order of things. The self, it seems, is not real; bits of matter are, and their motions are mechanical, not plotted in a divinely ordered book ofnature. Thus the self or the person as a locus ofautonomous agency and understanding tends to come to be regarded as a fiction, not a physical something and not effective in the occurrence of events, so not a something at all. Human actions tend no longer to be seen as stemming from persons who can alter and are responsible for diem, but instead as complex events falling under physical laws. Yet despite the revolutionary revisions in the explanation of human action and die account of personhood seemingly forced by the new physics, self-knowledge is not something easily abandoned in favor ofknowledge of matter. It is not easy to conceive of one's actions as nonpurposive and of oneself as an unreal playdiing of fortune. Determinism seems incompatible with individual responsibility and hence with morality. Determinists make claims, investigate things, and regard diese activities as significant 273 274Philosophy and Literature and under their control, yet it is hard to see how this could be ifphysicalist determinism were true. Even within modern scientific understanding, autonomous creativity and human understanding are generally allotted roles in experimentation as well as in the rest of life. Yet this acknowledgment of human autonomy is seemingly in fundamental conflict with the commitment to the explanation of all events under physical laws that is characteristic of the modern scientific attitude.1 In the absence, however, of a well worked out description of how we can autonomously generate partial understandings of our proper ends as persons, understandings to which we then give expression in action, these objections will seem hollow, and the sense diat it must be possible to explain our actions fully under physical laws will press upon us. Ifwe cannot say how we can understand ourselves and our end in ways that inform our actions, then it will seem wise to abandon trying to understand agentive persons and to try instead to formulate the physical explanations of the motions of our bodies that are seemingly in order. Here Wordsworth's poetry can be of special value, for one of Wordsworth 's chief poetic concerns was to diagnose and locate skepticism about the possibility of self-understanding as a natural but temporary stage in the lives of persons who can grasp their proper end. Skepticism about action-guiding self-understanding, on his showing, is a plight of mind to which self-conscious end-directed beings succumb just as they most fully assert their particularity and separateness from others. Recovery from this plight occurs naturally when they come both to see that genuine autonomy requires community with others in a particular sort of expressive activity and to find themselves already so engaged. Further self-conscious and effective engagement in this expressive activity then emerges as the proper end of persons and as an end that is to be achieved communally. The scandal of philosophy, as Wordsworth would have it, is diat this natural development of die mind, a development Wordsworth traces throughout his own career, should be ignored in favor ofdie pursuit ofoverly abstract, narrow, and impoverishing causal explanations of our behavior. Wordsworth thus offers us a detailed and comprehensive description of how action-guiding self... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 23 (2003) 3-19 [Access article in PDF] Some Reflections about Community and Survival Rita M. Gross University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire Many studies have indicated that at both ends of the life cycle human beings more readily survive and flourish if they experience significant contact with other humans, if they experience nurturing, love, and relationship. Having physical needs met, by itself, is not sufficient. Both infants and (...) old people, as well as people recovering from serious illness, are much more likely to survive if, in addition to having their physical needs met, they experience the emotional well-being brought about by sufficient companionship.Though the issue is less discussed, one wonders why things would be different in those phases of the life cycle in which one is seemingly more independent. How can adults flourish and thrive without sufficient companionship, love, and community? How do adults react to the absence of these important elements of life? I would suggest that relatively helpless infants, invalids, and aged people simply die, but adults have enough power and independence to react to their loneliness and frustration in ways that lash out at the social fabric that fails to love and nurture them sufficiently. In Buddhist psychology an organism's two most frequent reactions to stimulation are grasping at something or aggression toward it. I would suggest that unnurtured adults express their frustration with loneliness and lack of love precisely in those two ways. We have discussed these reactions in our previous sessions on war and on consumerism and its attendant environmental degradation.I agreed very reluctantly to write a paper for this session on community. I am reluctant for two reasons. First, I have already written on community, do not wish to repeat myself, and am not sure I have anything new to say. Thus, I end up with the option of being more personal in my reflections than I usually am. (I know some of you will think that could not be possible, because I always go too far on that score. My apologies.) Second, as a female academic and someone with no family who has been single most of my life, I know only too well the loneliness and frustration that come with living in a society with declining "social capital," to use the phrase so aptly employed by Robert Putnam in his book Bowling Alone. The topic is simply too painful for me, because I know intimately, by virtue of their absence in my life, the importance of companionship, friendship, and community. I appreciated all the [End Page 3] graphs and documentation in Putnam's book, but despite my many years of intense involvement in the Buddhist world, I already knew in my gut the main thesis of his book. Nevertheless, much of what I will write about in this paper is informed by Putnam's book, as well as by David Korten's The Post-Corporate World and bell hooks's All About Love, both of which I recommend as relevant reading materials as we prepare to discuss the topic of community.By contrast, for our first discussions of community in our 1987 meetings, I was eager to make a contribution. 1 I had discovered something, or so it seemed to me, that was both painful and important. In the early 1980s I began to realize that despite the energy and loyalty I brought to my Buddhist community, I was still lonely and was not experiencing the friendship, community, companionship, and support that seemed to me to be implied in the act of "going for refuge to the sangha. " Instead, people constantly told me that being alone was essential to Buddhist practice—a claim that I would contend has more to do withWestern notions of individualism and self-reliance than with Buddhism. Understandably, these values are especially strong among convert Buddhists, who had to defy convention and assert their individuality in the process of becoming Buddhists. Nevertheless, we were signing on to honor the refuge of sangha, not merely the refuges of Buddha and dharma, a point that is still underappreciated by many... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Emotion, Restraint, and Community in Ancient RomePeter TooheyRobert A. Kaster. Emotion, Restraint, and Community in Ancient Rome. Classical Culture and Society. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. xii + 245 pp. Cloth, $45.Emotion, Restraint, and Community has much in common with William Miller's well-known The Anatomy of Disgust (1997). There is their interest in disgust, their focus on the social and literary life of the emotions, and, (...) best of all, their tone. The ironic, fresh, often funny, and personal tone of Kaster's book is very like that of Miller's. The tone is utterly unlike anything one normally expects from a learned classical volume from a learned press. Similarities end there. While [End Page 137] Miller focuses on the modern world, Kaster's book on the social life of the emotions takes as its research object Roman literature up until Christianity becomes the religion of the Roman Empire. In five chapters, Kaster looks at five emotions (verecundia, pudor, paenitentia, invidia, and fastidium) and offers, as a conclusion, a vision of what it must have been like for a Roman male to have control over the workings of these five emotions. That person, he suggests, is what would have been termed integer—upright, honest, and undamaged.Based on word searches and contextual analyses for each of the terms, Kaster's discussion provides an engaging way of describing the life of these emotions. Rather than relying on dictionary definitions, he briefly analyzes and illustrates his terms in their literary contexts. Then he produces scripts, which consist not just of the things you think, feel, and do as they relate to these five emotions, but which also show how they are played out in a social context. What does it feel like to be the object of fastidium, for example, or to direct it at another? Kaster's analysis, therefore, concerns itself more with the cognitive dimension of these emotions rather than the affective. Or, to adapt his own terminology, the analysis is on the occurrent (situational) rather than dispositional (psychological).How does Kaster understand the basis of each of these terms and how it is that they are defined socially? Verecundia ("respect" or "shame"—the subject of chapter 1) "animates the art of knowing your proper place in every social transaction and basing your behavior on that knowledge; by guiding behavior in this way, verecundia establishes or affirms the social bond between you and others, all of whom (ideally) play complementary roles" (15). Kaster makes his understanding even more clear when he states that "verecundia is what might be called 'ignorability': not being invisible, quite, but being seen to claim the minimum amount of social space needed to carry out a given line of action" (17). Pudor ("decency," "shame," "embarrassment"), the subject of the second and longest chapter, can be paraphrased as "being aware of others being aware of you" (28–29). He expands on this to add that "while it was understandably your goal to receive the largest possible share of creditable attention ('honor') and experience the least possible discomfort from discrediting attention ('shame'), honor and shame were experienced as complementary, rather than opposed" (29).Kaster is not, therefore, interested in the modes by which verecundia and pudor can become internalized. He does not believe that a Roman's valuation of what action could or could not be judged as invoking verecundia or pudor can be made without immediate recourse to others (cf. 59). He is not interested, for example, in the way that Seneca, with his recommendation for daily (Epistles 83) self-scrutiny (so, for example, Epistles 16.2: excute te et varie scrutare et observa) might have evaluated an action. Seneca, as we know, suggested that you judge an action, hence its capacity to evoke an emotion such as verecundia, by checking it against a judge internal to your mind, such as an imagined Scipio, Cato, or Laelius (Epistles 25.5–6; see Edwards, G&R 54, 1997). The point is an important one. Kaster sees little shift in the way verecundia and pudor, or indeed his five emotions generally, are understood throughout the period he covers (roughly [End Page 138] 200... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Place of Imagination: Wendell Berry and the Poetics of Community, Affection, and Identity by Joseph R. WiebeJacob Alan CookThe Place of Imagination: Wendell Berry and the Poetics of Community, Affection, and Identity Joseph R. Wiebe waco, tx: baylor university press, 2017. 272 pp. $49.95The Place of Imagination is an artful narration of Wendell Berry's poetics focused distinctively on his works of fiction. Moralists concerned about issues (...) of land use or racialization could commend or criticize "what" they assume Berry's stories (re)present—nostalgia or some abstract, principial program. But Joseph Wiebe ventures a thesis about "how" Berry's imaginary Port William community discloses the nature of good, real-world community. Understanding how Berry's poetics reflect his real-world moral imagination clarifies what we may learn from his fiction. So, in part 1, Wiebe traces Berry's journey of local adaptation, through which he developed a moral imagination and discovered the agonizing details of his entanglement in his place's history and his neighbors' problems.Berry's poetics starts with imagination opening itself to the genius of a place and the other (friend and foe alike) as a living soul. Such imagination engages our sympathy to see others as complex subjects without controlling their stories, objectifying them to realize some idealist worldview. In sympathy, we [End Page 203] perceive the other as a neighbor and develop affection for them in their difference. This affection is no mere sentiment but a Humean moral sentiment that motivates behavior and, when properly nurtured, makes moral reasoning subservient to itself. Affection "disrupts habits of pity" that reduce others to mental objects and inspires a kenotic movement toward concrete neighbors (37). Problems felt at the societal level are habituated in local communities. While idealist solutions may satisfy the white, Western mind's impulse for complete knowledge, their resources prove incompetent before these problems as such. We must affectionately open ourselves to others who disrupt our mental worlds and draw us into real-world habits that change underlying communal dynamics. Relinquishing control of our storied identities (or idealist worldviews) to the others in our place, we might truly locate ourselves in those problems—and start undoing them.In part 2, Wiebe offers glimpses of "what" Berry's poetics teach us about a placed life together through select members of a quaint Kentucky farming community: Jack Beechum, Jayber Crow, and Hannah Coulter. His imaginative attentiveness to each character exemplifies the art of discovering the virtues of place-based identity. The way through Port William offers no shortcuts. Its imaginary community does not merely stand in for some universal idea of community. Neither potential solution nor nostalgic phantasm, Port William is the setting for parables that reveal something true about good community. "If there is something to imitate, it is the underlying processes that generate the particulars of Berry's narratives rather than the characters that furnish them" (152). In Port William, one can practice relinquishing control and patiently "imagining" the contours of a place; in the real world, one can deploy that imagination to develop fidelity to their place.Wiebe aptly follows Berry's method, yielding control over Berry's biography and work by taking a third-person narrator's perspective. He focuses on what Berry's life and writing reveal parabolically to the patient reader. The book beckons readers to hold Berry and his stories as a mirror—to engage in introspection and self-interrogation—that we might learn something about sympathy and affection needed for engaging our places non-imperialistically. Wiebe's adept style may appear to some as a flaw; the narrator gives no academic cues (e.g., "I will argue") for rapidly consuming principial content. There are only Berry's life and work and the reader, hopefully changed. The Place of Imagination will be of greatest interest to those who already have some affection for that "artful crank from Kentucky" (10). Beyond the agrarian crowd and its auditors, this book holds appeal for a range of explorations, from the fecundity of poetics in ethics to the disruptiveness of Christian imagination vis-à-vis whiteness. [End Page 204]Jacob Alan CookFriends UniversityCopyright © 2018 Society... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 23 (2003) 21-32 [Access article in PDF] Re-Creating Christian Community:A Response to Rita M. Gross Donald W. Mitchell Purdue University In Rita M. Gross's well-written, insightful, and provocative paper entitled "Some Reflections about Community and Survival," Rita says: "I am challenging my Christian colleagues to consider what role Western religious concepts about the individual may have played in getting us into the current hyper-individualism. I also (...) am asking whether the Buddhist concept of interdependence might be very useful in providing tools with which to think about why this hyper-individualism cannot survive."In terms of Rita's challenge, one could make the generalization that the notion of the individual soul being saved or on a journey to union with God has certainly played an important role in Christianity. At the extreme in this regard, Thomas à Kempis even advised solitude and the actual avoidance of other people, seen by him to be distractions to the spiritual life. However, most Christians would see this advice as an unhealthy extreme, agreeing with Rita that solitude has a "valued role...in the context of social life, not a substitute for it" (11). It is much more common for Christians to see themselves as parts of the mystical body of Christ, and to believe that their authentic selfhood and discipleship are found in the context of fellowship and community life in the church.In what follows here, I will try to show how the notions of selfhood and discipleship are being defined in a particular re-creation of Christian community, which includes persons of other faiths. I have been asked to make my response from the perspective of my own Christian community, the Focolare, which focuses on the kinds of social, economic, and environmental issues that we have been discussing for the past three years. In so doing, I will also try to show how the Focolare's trinitarian vision of God, community, and the cosmos is a possible answer to the above-quoted question Rita asks about how interdependence might be an antidote to hyper-individualism. Along the way, I will raise issues that relate to other points Rita makes in her paper, and then address her conclusions at the end of my paper. Seeds of a New Christian Community The Focolare began duringWorld War II with a small group of young women, whose ages ranged from fifteen to twenty-five, living in the city of Trent, Italy. 1 At the center [End Page 21] of the group was Chiara Lubich, who was only twenty-three at the time. In May of 1944 Lubich's home was destroyed by bombs, and her family decided to leave the city. Lubich made the difficult decision to remain with her companions in Trent, where they would meet in the bomb shelters as often as eleven times each day. They would take with them to the shelters only the Bible, which they searched for guidance in that difficult situation. What they came to understand in those hours together and then put into practice became the basis for re-creating a Christian community, one that is sensitive to the social, political, and economic conditions that had produced the war in which they were caught.A foundational discovery for these young women was a collective and yet very personal experience, in the midst of the death and destruction of the war, that "God is Love" (I John 4:8). Their contemplation of the First Letter of John, as well as other parts of the Scripture, strengthened not only their belief in the existence of God, when many were doubting God's existence, but also their faith in the love of God for each one of them.Wanting to respond to this experience of God's love, they again found in Scripture that God does not seek just a response of individual prayerful sentiment or personal piety, but a response that includes doing God's will: "It is not those who say to me, 'Lord, Lord,' who will enter the kingdom of heaven... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 33.2 (2000) 182-186 [Access article in PDF] Book Review Rhetoric and Community: Studies in Unity and Fragmentation Rhetoric and Community: Studies in Unity and Fragmentation. Studies in Rhetoric/Communication. Ed. J. Michael Hogan. Series ed. Thomas W. Benson. Columbia, SC: U of South Carolina P, 1998. Pp. xxxviii + 315. $39.95. Based on papers and critical responses presented at the Fourth Biennial Public Address Conference, which (...) was held at Indiana University in 1994, this collection of fourteen essays by leading rhetoric scholars concentrates on the relationships among rhetoric, community, and fragmentation. Organized into three broad sections entitled "Race, Gender, and Community," "War and Community," and "Artistic and Scientific Community," the book contributes to ongoing conversations about the roles of language, symbolism, differences, metaphors, myths, hegemony, economic class, pluralism, and multiple consciousness in unifying the United States. A preface and a conclusion by J. Michael Hogan, who edited the collection, provides an orientation and summary for this new volume in the University of South Carolina Press series devoted to Studies in Rhetoric/Communication.The preface frames the book's contribution as a response to a belief that "a growing number of social and political commentators fear that the United States has lost all sense of 'community'--that repository of shared purpose, values, and traditions which historically has defined the American character" (xii). Hogan amplifies, "The signs of stress and fragmentation appear everywhere, not just in our national political and cultural dialogue but in all of the various communities that define our social lives--our families, our neighborhoods, our towns and cities, our professions, and our social and cultural associations" (xii). The preface situates the book in this concern about a "lost" unity that once upon a time typified the United States. But this "lost" community is a mythic representation of a past that has never existed in the United States, except possibly in the imaginations of people habituated to dominant roles. Stephen H. Browne's comments about restoration projects in general are germane: "The work of restoration has [End Page 182] never come easy for Americans, not least of all because it presumes a state that never existed and the appeal to which is almost always self-interested" (75).Describing the fourteen contributors as sharing "a common bond," Hogan asserts, "recognizing that communities are largely defined, and rendered healthy or dysfunctional, by the language they use to characterize both themselves and others, all share an abiding concern with how communities are constituted and sustained--or, in some cases, threatened and disrupted--by the words their leaders choose to characterize both themselves and others" (xv). Hogan emphasizes a question that he reiterates with slight changes in the conclusion: "Can feminist or ethnic and racial communities successfully sustain and celebrate their own identities without alienating themselves from the larger community?" (295; similarly, xxiii). But if all members of a community are responsible for unity and fragmentation, if we are unwilling to assign responsibility for fragmentation to subordinated community members, it may be necessary, consciously, to reverse the dynamics of power implicit in Hogan's question, by asking: "Can groups that have had a history of dominating others--both beyond and within the borders--sustain their own identities and still relate productively to the community?" In addition, because the English language is a communal inheritance, it may be revealing to ask, in a reversal of the book's focus on "community," how are notions of individualism sustained in the United States?Roderick P. Hart's introduction, "Community by Negation--An Agenda for Rhetorical Inquiry," focuses on a rhetoric of hate as practiced by both the political right and the political left. Hart inquires "whether it is possible to have community without hate" (xxv). This question is necessary in any serious discussion of rhetoric, fragmentation, and community; yet calculated opportunism and economic exploitation may be misnamed and obfuscated in language depicting a rhetoric of "hate." Indeed, Lu-in Wang, a legal scholar, suggests that these other motives may be more common than animus in so-called "hate crimes." Live interviews with convicted killers... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 35.3 (2002) 244-265 [Access article in PDF] Community, Assimilation, and the Unfamiliar Tim Donovan Fellowship We are five friends, one day we came out of the house one after the other, first one came and placed himself beside the gate, then the second came, or rather he glided through the gate like a little ball of quicksilver, and placed himself near the first one, and (...) then came the third, then the fourth, then the fifth. Finally we all stood in a row. People began to notice us, they pointed at us and said: "Those five just came out of that house." Since then we have been living together; it would be a peaceful life if it weren't for the sixth one continually trying to interfere. He doesn't do us any harm, but he annoys us, and that is harm enough; why does he intrude where he is not wanted? We don't know him and don't want him to join us. There was a time, of course, when the five of us did not know one another, either; and it could be said that we still don't know one another, but what is possible and can be tolerated by the five of us is not possible and cannot be tolerated with the sixth one. In any case, we are five and don't want to be six. And what is the point of this continual being together anyhow? It is also pointless for the five of us, but here we are together; a new combination, however, we do not want, just because of our experiences. But how is one to make this clear to the sixth one? Long explanations would almost amount to accepting him in our circle, so we prefer not to explain and not to accept him. No matter how he pouts his lips, we push him away with our elbows, but however much we push him away, back he comes. — Franz Kafka 1. I want to introduce this essay on Edmund Spenser's early modern dialogue View of the Present State of Ireland with a contemporary question influenced by Franz Kafka's epigraph: What are the principles that presuppose an understanding of community? I have purposely stated the question of belonging as "an understanding" rather than "what are the principles that we presuppose as...." After all, who is this we that so easily gathers identity within the common usage? I begin with a question to maintain uncertainty, [End Page 244] which indicates a responsibility to greet the unfamiliar, all the while knowing very clearly that the concept of community naturally presumes some common measure of familiarity. Yet as Kafka's allegory implies: What presupposes the propriety of those familiar experiences we name our own?Spenser's dialogue is undoubtedly challenging, a challenge that has drawn an enormous amount of recent critical analysis from literary critics and historians. Still, a general difficulty persists. Michael Donnelly summarizes the difficulty quite well when he notes that the View is quite "anomalous in the Spenserian oeuvre," a rather strange dialogue that seems uncharacteristic of the poet's humanist image (1). The challenges certainly begin with the troubling difficulties of an argument that concludes with the stark political necessities of enforced famine, massive relocation, and ethnic cleansing. Furthermore, the anxious burden of justifying this dire program expresses itself in a tone that would be thought intemperate even by many of Spenser's contemporaries (McCabe, 116). More important than the dialogue's dire tone of determination, there is a continued resonance of enforced cultural assimilation and genocide that haunts our contemporary world forewarned by arguments of pathology and apartheid. However, a glance at recent political news would indicate that these forewarnings are repeatedly ignored. I believe the challenge that the View evokes dwells in the traditional lineage of the concept of community. Thus, we cannot so easily dismiss Spenser's dialogue as merely an early modern problem; nor can we dismiss it as another diatribe in the long-standing tradition of racial screeds. The political problems that the dialogue engages foreshadow current... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 12.1 (2005) 27-29 [Access article in PDF] Community, Consciousness, and Dynamic Self-Understanding Marya Schechtman Keywords consciousness, unconscious, self-understanding, embedded consciousness, personal identity I would like to thank both of my commentators for their generous and insightful comments. After an extremely clear and accurate summary of my position, Grant Gillett suggests that it should be supplemented with a recognition that the self-understanding I describe is (...) rooted in culture and social practice. I agree wholeheartedly with the need for such a supplement. In this paper, I try to switch from the emphasis on contents of consciousness found in traditional developments of the Lockean insight to an emphasis on the fact of reflective self-consciousness, which I think better captures what seems right in Locke's view. My suggestion is that we take up Locke's claim that the essential feature of personhood is awareness of oneself as a self, and understand this self-awareness in terms of an implicit demand for intelligibility in one's conscious experience. Considering oneself as a self requires that one view one's current state not as a free-standing moment that might or might not be related in appropriate ways to the states of a freestanding past or future self, but rather as part of an unfolding life story. This involves, among other things, an acknowledgment of our obligation to questions such as: "Why do I feel this way?" or "Why am I doing this?" Being a self involves holding oneself accountable for what one is doing and feeling. In this case the accountability is to oneself.The possibility of being accountable to oneself obviously depends, however, on a cultural context in which there is such a thing as accountability to others. It is only against a backdrop where others may call for an explanation of one's behavior or speech—and where not all explanations count as legitimate—that one can demand intelligibility from oneself. Children must be socialized into personhood by learning the right questions to ask about how their lives hang together, and what kinds of answers count as answers to those questions. Person, in Locke's sense, is a normative and forensic term, and is therefore inherently bound up with public standards. My point here is the somewhat limited claim that the attitude toward our own lives and experience, which is self-constituting, giving us a sense of ourselves as persisting beings, will involve this kind of accountability to oneself. I agree, however, that the tools for achieving this sort of attitude come in with mother's milk and early socialization. A fuller development of my claim thus [End Page 27] requires much more discussion of the role of culture and society in self-constitution. I begin such a discussion in my Constitution of Selves (1996), and hope to take it up in more detail in future work.Markus Heinimaa (2005) wonders if I have gone far enough in rejecting traditional approaches to the problem of personal identity. Although I say that the perceiver-self is not a homunculus, I do talk about it as if it is an entity, and about the unconscious as if it is a place inside this entity where psychological states can hide. Heinimaa's suggestion is that both the perceiver self and the unconscious are unnecessary complications, and that I can achieve my goal without them. Locke's insight can be better (or at least as well) captured, he suggests, with a kinetic view of the person as a process of self-understanding. These challenges are well taken. Although I cannot fully answer them here, perhaps I can clarify my position somewhat, and in so doing motivate some of my assumptions.I begin with my assumption of unconscious mental states and processes. My discussion starts from the idea that there are considerations pulling us toward the claim that the person must be identified with consciousness, and also considerations pulling us toward the view that the person must be more than conscious experience. The first set of considerations is laid out in some detail in... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Communities of Musical Practice by Ailbhe KennyFrank HeuserAilbhe Kenny Communities of Musical Practice ( New York: Routledge, 2016)When struggling in the confines of a practice room to overcome a technical difficulty on an instrument or explore different ways to shape a phrase, music learning can be a solitary and seemingly lonely enterprise. In such settings it is easy to assume that personal effort is the primary contributor (...) to an individual's musical expertise. Cognitive scientists steven sloman and Philip Fernbach1 argue against this view of human learning and suggest that much of what we know and accomplish results from working and living with others in a rich community of socially generated knowledge rather than by relying only on own efforts. This implies that the ability to develop sophisticated understandings in a discipline depends more on working collectively with others with whom we can share the labors of our cognitive efforts than on individual processes. This lends credence to the concept of learning in "communities of practice" that emerged during the 1990s.2Researchers have embraced this concept in music education and investigated the learning and relationships that develop in musical communities. June Countryman3 and N. Whitaker4 both examined how such communities impact learners in school-based music instructional settings. Deborah V. Blair developed [End Page 214] a professional development program for novice music educators that evolved into a community of practice.5 such communities offer members a place for identity formation and facilitate the acquisition of new knowledge in the discipline that is refined through active participation in meaningful learning experiences. In her book, Communities of Musical Practice, Ailbhe Kenny examines three music learning communities based in Limerick, Ireland and develops a model for community of practice that is specific to musical settings. This model can inform researchers investigating the fields of music education and community music. although it was not designed as a study in music education philosophy, the book is an example of excellent philosophical practices. as Wayne Bowman and ana Lucia Frega have suggested, if philosophy seeks to make "action more intelligent, more informed, more congruent with responsibly held beliefs,"6 Communities of Musical Practice offers a case study of the kind of reflective thinking that is central to philosophical practice. It is an example of how applying a reflective process to research data might provide the profession with both practical and philosophical insights.The book consists of seven chapters which are divided into three major sections. Part I, a Place for Communities of Musical Practice, defines communities of musical practice and describes the methodologies employed in the study. Part II, Illustrations of Communities of Musical Practices, offers case studies of three communities of musical practice that provide readers with examples of how the paradigm can be applied to investigate contrasting settings. Part III, Insights from Communities of Musical Practice, which summarizes the communities of musical practice framework, presents a model of how collective knowledge through common experiences contributes to senses of belonging, identity, and meaning-making and offers suggestions for nurturing these communities and developing policies that might contribute to increasing group music-making opportunities in communities. Following a review of these chapters, examples are given of how philosophical insights might be derived from this type of research.The central research question informing the work presented in the book is: How are communities of musical practice developed and sustained in practice?"7 This fundamental issue is refined through a series of sub-questions relating to the actual practices taking place within these communities of musical practices, the variety of relationships, actions, behaviors and experiences that are present within them, and the ways musical identities are created within and informed through participation in them. In Part I, Kenny develops a theoretical framework for examining communities of music practice by drawing from philosophy of practice, socio-cultural studies, and research in both education and music education which is based primarily on the writings of Bourdieu, Blacking, and Wenger. In particular, she employs etienne Wenger's framework of mutual engagement, [End Page 215] joint enterprise, and shared repertoire (or practices)8 as a scaffold to analyze and interpret "'situated' and collaborative musical... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:372 BOOK REVIEWS This understanding, moreover, gives ontological validity to the communication of idioms, which Morris surprisingly sees as accomplishing nothing but" muddying the water" (p. 49). As God, the Son is omniscient, immutable, all-powerful, etc., but in his new mode of existence as man, he is truly ignorant, passible, and limited. Existing as man, the Son experiences all that pertains to historioolly conditioned humanity. In the Incarnation (...) the "·who", the person, remains the same, but the manner of the experience of the " Who " is distinctly different-divine and human-without confusion, change, division, or separation. The mystery obviously remains, but it is meaningful and coherent. (For a more complete presentation of these arguments see the author's : Does God Change? : The Word's Becoming in the Incarnation, Still River: St. Bede's, 1985). As stated at the outset, Morris presents a thorough and provocative study which should be read and studied by scholars. While he aptly critiques his opponents, he fails to challenge their understanding of the incarnational notion of "become" and the ensuing union. Rather, he himself presupposes that the Incarnation implies a compositional union of natures which in turn leads to an unresolvable incompatibility between the divine and human attributes in Christ. Morris may have been aided had he been more acquainted with the early Christological controversies and councils. Nevertheless, Morris has clearly raised many important contemporary Christological issues and has admirably attempted to provide answers which are faithful both to the Christian tradition and to human i~ea..'\On and logic. Mother of God Community, Washington, D.O. THOMAS WEINaNDY O.F.M., Cap. Community: A Trinity of Models. By FRANK G. KmKPATRICK. Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 1986. Pp. 248. Cloth $17.95; paper $10.95. In recent years the pathology of atomistic individualism has been variously described by the Council Fathers of Vahlcan II, liberationist and feminist theologians, Stanley Hauer.was, and countless other theological and secular critics. According to Frank Kirkpatrick, therapeutic intervention will not be effective in the long run unless it is based upon an alternative conceptual "model" of human oommunity. Of course, Kirkpa.tric.k has something specific in mind. Not just any alternative will do. Marxian models of human association, for example, are prone to BOOK REVIEWS 373 totalitarianism and the denial of proper individuality. Thus, he offers what he calls "the mutual/personal model of community" as "a substantial grounding for a Christian vision of community congruent with liberationist and feminist concerns " (vii). Western culture has generated a welter of perspectives on the nature and ground of human association. Within this motley, Kirkpatrick discerns three models of oommunity which have shaped Western social philosophy and religious thought. The book de~crihes these traditional models by identifying their controlling metaphors, accounts of human nature and its fulfillment, and the social, economic, and political practices and institutions they undergird. The author appraises the strengths and weaknesses of the models and attempts to reconcile their positive features within the Christian vision of Koinonia. The first model is "the atomistic/contractarian" wherein persons are regarded as "independent atoms rationally contracting with each other for the terms of their enforced relationship" (2). Kirkpatrick locates its sources in the thought of Hobbes, Locke, Bentham, James Mill, Adam Smith, and Rousseau. Observing that the individualism of this tradition has always flourished in America, Kirkpatrick surveys some of its c001temporary expressions in the work of George Gilder, F. A. Hayek, Michael N·ovak, Robert Nozick, and John Rawls. The fruits of the atomistic/ contracta.rian model are, to Kirkpatrick's taste, mostly bad-isolation, alienation, oppression, injustice-and are ineongruent with Christian Koinonia. His second model, " the organic/functional," views persons as "organs, interdependent and functionally related to each other within a larger organism" (2). Conceived by Edmund Burke, this model became fully formed and viable in the thought of Hegel and Marx, and was instrumental in the analyses of sociologists such as Ferdinand Tonnies and Charles H. Cooley. Kirkpatrick is troubled by this model's tendency to view human relationships exhaustively in terms of co-operativ.e function. He worries that there is an insufficient" sense of individual difference and self-identity to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Solidarity: From Civic Friendship to a Global Legal CommunityPaul HendricksonThe University of South Carolina. Hauke Brunkhorst. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2005. Pp. xxv + 262. $42.50, hardcover.Public appeals to solidarity have been pervasive throughout the storied history of political dissent and democratic politics. From the French Revolution and the European revolutions of 1848 to decolonization, Polish Solidarność, and the antiglobalization movement, solidarity has been invoked as a means (...) of reinventing citizenship, rights, and community. Yet political theorists have not generally accorded the concept of solidarity a degree of attention comparable to that afforded other core political concepts, such as freedom, equality, and deliberation. In Solidarity, Hauke Brunkhorst seeks to remedy this neglect, arguing that the concept of solidarity should be deemed fundamental to democratic theory and practice: "In modern societies, solidarity coincides with the concept of democracy" (xxiii). Brunkhorst presents this thesis as a corrective to current theory, but he also develops it—in the spirit of much Frankfurt School theorizing—as a Zeitdiagnose, as a timely diagnosis, regarding the threats globalization poses to democratic self-governance: "Power, law, and money are globalized [today] at the expense of democratic solidarity" (7).Solidarity, as Brunkhorst understands it, is a thoroughly modern concept. The "ideas of 1789"—in particular, the fraternité of the French Revolution—provided the historical foundation for an egalitarian and democratic model of solidarity. Over the course of the nineteenth century, the concept of solidarity [End Page 343] gradually replaced that of fraternity in the wake of industrialization. Drawing on Marx, Brunkhorst argues that what promoted working-class solidarity was "not the local sympathy of communal relations or the friendly affection... of a tightly structured polis," but rather the railway, the steamship, and the telegraph (60). Brunkhorst's historiography is woven into a broad social-theoretic framework. Following Durkheim, he reasons that the modern division of labor is not founded on the mechanical solidarity of Gemeinschaft, on a shared sense of affinity, ritual, and communal belonging, but on the organic solidarity of Gesellschaft, on the integration of an individualized, pluralist, and functionally differentiated society.To readers acquainted with contemporary German appropriations of the sociological tradition, many of Brunkhorst's conceptual moves will seem familiar. But his unique fusion of social-theoretic and historical argumentation yields a fascinating and novel characterization of solidarity. For Brunkhorst, solidarity is not a form of sentiment or emotional bond; it is not premised on compassion for "tormentable bodies" (Brecht) or on a "flexible feeling of sympathy" (Rorty); rather, "it is nothing but the democratic realization of individual freedom" (3). This normative model of solidarity is guided by the regulative ideal of a political association without domination; it envisages a polity in which the individual is neither servant nor master to her compatriots. As modes of governance become increasingly globalized, democratic forms of solidarity must reach beyond the rights traditions of particular nation-states to include a "human-rights patriotism."Brunkhorst traces this ideal back to Greco-Roman antiquity and the Judeo-Christian tradition. Drawing principally on the writings of Greek and Roman philosophers, he argues that civic friendship (philia) provided a space for mutual freedom, emancipated individuals from the bonds of kinship, generalized friendship into a form of patriotism (philia politike), and realized the universal essence of man as a political being. But this civic-republican model remained profoundly elitist, excluding the many on the basis of gender, class, and citizenship status. More suggestive and original is Brunkhorst's treatment of Jewish and Christian thought. The intersection between rhetoric and philosophy is central to his interpretation of the Exodus story and covenant theology as a form of collective countermemory and as a prophetic practice of critique. Through his reading of the Jotham fable and other biblical narratives, he argues that the Jewish prophets and the Christian New Testament avowed "the equal proximity of all humans to God" and contributed to a "prophetic project of egalitarian solidarity" (33, 36). [End Page 344]Brunkhorst's historical reconstructions culminate in the French Revolution. On his view, the otherworldly universalism of the Judeo-Christian tradition was secularized and institutionalized in the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen (1789) and the first French... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Paradox of Disability: Responses to Jean Vanier and L’Arche Communities from Theology and the Sciences ed. by Hans S. ReindersAdam ClarkThe Paradox of Disability: Responses to Jean Vanier and L’Arche Communities from Theology and the Sciences Edited by Hans S. Reinders Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010. 191pp. $18.00Jean Vanier introduces this collection of essays with a concise articulation of the themes that define L’Arche communities: those (...) with impairments “cry out” for loving service, yet love involves the receptivity by which those without obvious impairments learn to claim their own good amid a vulnerability that [End Page 205] appears to be its negation. Subsequent essays expand upon these themes, drawing on a range of theological and social-scientific perspectives. Most could serve as introductions for undergraduate or graduate classes. The volume also invites disability scholars to examine whether and how this “Vanier school” has succeeded in its attempt to reimagine and serve both those with and those without obvious impairments.For Vanier’s “school,” such reimagining entails perceiving those with impairments as “teachers.” Executing this, however, is difficult. Xavier Le Pichon, for example, argues that “the disabled” help us recover positive views of dependency in “childhood innocence” and “aged suffering” (since they embody both stages). Focusing on the suffering that human beings experience before death, he claims that paleo-anthropological evidence suggests that societies evolved as their care of the disabled taught them to accept suffering. His argument, however, risks strongly identifying persons with their impairments, thus reinforcing the social construction of “disability” as a marginalizing category in discourse and policy.Moreover, this difficulty is not limited to associations with disvalue. Hans Reinders draws on Søren Kierkegaard and Hans Ulrich in a comparison of the severely disabled to the “teachers” of Matthew 6: the birds and lilies. The disabled, he argues, embody a positive image of “humanity” characterized by dependence on God and a lack of competition with others. Such an image of grace “frees” one from a political economy that drives toward rational mastery of self and world. Yet, do the severely impaired always experience and manifest such dependence? If not, are they not being used to create a “human” image for others in which they, in fact, do not appear?Kevin Reimer’s essay contains similar difficulties. For him, the instructive values are “trust” and “gracious openness.” Citing studies that demonstrate how these values sustain communities—even absent rational agreement—he argues that they should replace rationality as the chief marker of moral maturity (as exemplified, e.g., in Lawrence Kohlberg’s stages of moral development). Like Reinders, Reimer clearly wants those with cognitive impairments to be appreciated as teachers of values that displace the rationalist ones that deprecate them. However, like Reinder’s argument, this easily slides toward defining “humanity” under a certain ideal form, thereby still implicitly devaluing those who do not embody that ideal form. Also, one finds here the danger of romanticizing that is often identified with Vanier: one only sees the form and not the real person.William Gaventa and Brian Brock, however, provide a counterresponse, the first pivotal turn in the book. Gaventa argues that the discovery of another’s value as “teacher” occurs only when one has already acknowledged her as a person (104). In other words, any “form” taught must come only after one has encountered a “person,” which is understood as a complete image of human [End Page 206] value. Here Vanier’s argument for mutual receptivity becomes a fundamental anthropology that grounds an ethic. Love must serve both persons—the teacher with impairments and the learning respondent—along distinct lines of practical action (107). In addition, Gaventa argues that persons need sources of support that are both familial and private, on the one hand, and institutional and public, on the other—thus transcending the usual splits between conservatives and liberals.Brock develops a similar anthropological ethic drawing on Martin Luther. Being human together simply means “becoming neighbors” through the absolute (Christological) imputation of personal value. Brock criticizes practices that negate this neighborly bond. In particular, he rejects the view, often endorsed by genetic counselors, that bearing potentially impaired... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Ideas 65.2 (2004) 251-276 [Access article in PDF] British Geography's Republic of Letters: Mapping an Imagined Community, 1600-1800 Robert Mayhew University of Bristol Introduction: Geographies of the Republic of Letters One of the main ways in which scholars molded their self image in early modern Europe was as citizens of the "republic of letters." At the level of professed ideals the concept of (...) the republic of letters was simple: scholars would create an egalitarian world amongst themselves, where views could be expressed without the rancor of national, religious, historical, or other barriers to their exchanges. Recent studies have highlighted the impressive degree to which eighteenth-century scientists ignored war and xenophobia to exchange ideas, thereby enacting the cosmopolitan ideal of a republic of letters.1 Yet the details of this ideal have been the subject of intense scrutiny and debate, in part because there were many versions of scholarly cosmopolitanism,2 but more importantly because the reality of the republic of letters was in most instances at some distance from the ideal.3 There have been debates about the chronology of the rise and fall of the republic of letters, Miller seeing it as having risen to prominence in the later sixteenth century but in terminal decline by 1720. By contrast Goldgar shifts the era of the republic of letters to 1660-1750, and most recently Brockliss has argued for the essentially healthy state of the republic of [End Page 251] letters into the era of the French Revolution.4 Such chronological debates have themselves been prompted by a major disagreement over the relationship between the republic of letters and the Enlightenment of the philosophes: was the former a mere token of the ancien régime which was destroyed by an incipiently radical Enlightenment,5 or was the ideal of egalitarian cosmopolitanism which the republic of letters championed the seedbed for such radicalism, thereby making Enlightenment philosophes a subset of the republic of letters rather than their successors?6Clearly, debates about the meaning of the republic of letters have been sparked by its status as a quasi-political republican body and the extent to which this was mere terminology or was a real spur to new forms of political association. Yet the notion of a republic also presupposes a geography: a polis, fictive or real, needs a territorial scope over which it holds sway. Concerning the geography of the republic of letters, recent scholarship has been both more consensual and less critically acute. A number of scholars have documented the extent to which the republic's cosmopolitan ideals were undermined by national antagonisms and religious schisms.7 Furthermore, feminist scholars have pointed to the complexities of female participation in this arena, their salons enabling while their gender undermined their ability to negotiate a relationship with the public sphere of the republic.8 Clearly, there was a tension between nationalism (together with other forms of parochialism such as gender discrimination) and cosmopolitanism in the political geography of the republic of letters.At a more concrete level, several studies have analyzed the geography of the republic of letters by trying to map its spatial extent in diagrams or prose. Ultee has looked at the spatial extent of Leibniz's correspondents, and Brockliss has likewise mapped Esprit de Calvet's web of communications.9 Parallel studies of scientific correspondence networks have been conducted for Albrecht [End Page 252] von Haller and the natural historians clustered around Buffon.10 In this respect perhaps the most theoretically sophisticated work has been produced by historians of science galvanized by the work of Latour.11 Thus Lux and Cook have looked to the chains of contact and epistolary exchange by which Oldenberg came to credit knowledge claims for inclusion in the Proceedings of the Royal Society, while parallel methods have been used to analyze the geography of Jesuit scholarly exchange.12Other elements of the circulation of knowledge in early modern Europe beyond correspondence have also been examined to give readings of the geography of... (shrink)

Résumé Au sein d’une théologie considérée comme fondamentalement pratique, la théologie pratique comme sous-discipline se distingue par un intérêt particulier — empirique, herméneutique, critique et stratégique — pour les pratiques dont elle fait souvent son objet propre. Après avoir signalé quelques impacts de ce centrement sur la pratique, l’article présente quelques définitions de la pratique et quelques éléments d’histoire du concept. Il expose ensuite quelques traits des pratiques, en particulier avec Paul Ricoeur et Jürgen Habermas, conjuguant des perspectives sémantique, pragmatique (...) et communicationnelle. Il vise particulièrement à faire ressortir la richesse et la complexité de la pratique dont l’étude est trop souvent prise comme allant de soi et qui surprennent toujours celui qui s’y adonne.At the heart of a theology which is fundamentally considered to be practical, practical theology, as a sub-discipline, distinguishes itself by its particular empirical, hermeneutic, critical, and strategic interest in the practices with which it is concerned. After pointing out some of the impacts of this central concern with practice, the present article presents some definitions of practice as well as some historical background of the concept. It then examines some of the characteristics of practice, particularly in relation to Paul Ricoeur and Jürgen Habermas, while discussing semantic, pragmatic, and communicational perspectives. In particular, this article aims at highlighting the richness and complexity of practice. (shrink)