In this article, I address Rousseau's evolution as a political thinker between the years 1750 and 1753, during which time his critics challenged him to square the radical implications of his Discours sur les sciences et les arts with the realities of eighteenth-century European life. It was in the course of replying to his critics that Rousseau first adopted what I refer to as a more contextual orientation to political institutions. I argue that Rousseau's ostensibly Montesquieuian turn in the replies (...) sustained his claim in the Lettre a d'Alembert that theatre, the scourge of Geneva's republican simplicity, might nevertheless serve a useful function in Paris, where meurs, in Rousseau's estimation, had lapsed already to a point of irreversible corruption. I conclude that this contextual orientation to institutions guided much of Rousseau's subsequent thought about political reform in the modern republic. (shrink)

Twenty-two Catholic periodicals were printed in Paris in February 1848 when the Orleanist king, Louis Philippe was overthrown and France became a republic. They are valuable but neglected resources which elucidate what Catholics thought and what their concerns were in 1848. While many Catholics retained legitimist or royalist sympathies, they welcomed the republic because of its promise of freedoms . This article examines how that Catholic periodical press was affected by and how it responded to the February revolution and (...) the proclamation of a new republic. The number of these periodicals suggests there was a Catholic revival in France during the July Monarchy and indicates that were divergent Catholic opinions about religious and political ideas. Il y avait vingt-deux périodiques catholiques à Paris en février 1848 quand le roi, Louis Philippe d’Orléans, fut renversé et que la France devint une république. Ces journaux sont des sources utiles mais négligées, ils révèlent ce que les catholiques pensaient et en quoi ils étaient affectés à la fin de la monarchie de juillet. Quoique beaucoup de catholiques aient conservé des sympathies pour les régimes royalistes ou légitimistes, ils acceptèrent la république parce qu’elle promettait des libertés . Le présent article étudie comment la presse catholique fut atteinte et comment elle réagit à la révolution de février et à la proclamation de la République. Le nombre de ces périodiques manifeste qu’il y eut une renaissance catholique en France durant la monarchie de juillet et révéle qu’il y avait des opinions catholiques divergentes en ce qui concerne les idées politiques et religieuses. Als der französische König, Ludwig Philipp von Orléans, im Februar 1848 abgesetzt und Frankreich zu einer Republik wurde, gab es in Paris 22 katholische Zeitschriften. Diese Zeitungen sind nützliche, jedoch vernachlässigte Quellen, denn sie offenbaren, was die Katholiken dachten und was sie am Ende der Julimonarchie berührte. Obwohl zahlreiche Katholiken weiterhin Sympathien für monarchistische und „legitimierte“ Regierungsformen hegten, akzeptierten sie die Republik, da sie Freiheiten versprach. Der vorliegende Artikel untersucht, wie die katholische Presse sich betroffen fühlte und wie sie auf die Februarrevolution und die Ausrufung der Republik reagierte. Die hohe Zahl der Zeitschriften zeugt von einer katholischen Wiedergeburt in Frankreich während der Julimonarchie und deutet darauf hin, dass die katholischen Meinungen im Hinblick auf die politischen und religiösen Ideen auseinander gingen. (shrink)

This paper resists the virality of contemporary paranoia by turning to “French epistemology”, a philosophical ethos that embraces uncertainty and complexity by registering the transformative impact of scientific knowledge on thought. Despite its popular uses describing phenomena of communication today, the idea of virality comes from biomedicine. This paper, therefore, investigates the extent to which an epidemiological concept of viral transmission—the disease vector—can comprehend and encourage new possibilities of thought beyond paranoia. Briefly, I attempt to analyze thought (...) as a vector. I pursue this by examining Delaporte’s important, but neglected, study of the 1832 Parisian cholera epidemic. First elucidating his reconstruction of the ways tentative epistemological progress intertwined with and supported projects of working-class and colonial control. My vectorial analysis then considers how his argument infects contemporary readers with doubts that undo the bases of paranoia. I pursue this analysis further via a methodological examination of Delaporte’s study as both carrier of predecessors’ methods and host in which they alter, becoming newly infectious. I conclude by reflecting on this formulation of thought as disease vector and what Delaporte’s singular treatment of the problem of error reveals about an ethos committed to registering the impact of knowledge on thought. (shrink)

This article scrutinizes the political thought of a twelfth-century Parisian master, Peter the Chanter , with reference to a theme that has been prominent recently in political philosophy. This is the idea that a just government ought to be free from every kind of arbitrary interference in the lives of those “governed,” that is, that no person ought to be governed according to another's unconstrained will.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Reception of René Girard's Thought in Italy:1965-Present1Federica Casini (bio) and Pierpaolo Antonello (bio)Italy provides an important national cultural context for the global mapping of constantly growing interest in René Girard's thought and in mimetic theory. Girard is widely and unquestionably recognized as one of the most influential thinkers of our times. Interviews, public interventions, and excerpts of his books are featured quite regularly in Italian national (...) newspapers and magazines, and, as a result, Girard's name is known outside narrow academic circles.2 All his books have been translated into Italian, including several unique titles, which are available neither in French nor in English, and which are collections of previously unpublished occasional papers or essays.3 The reception of his thought has not been confined to any specific disciplinary ambit; it has been discussed, among others, by philosophers, literary critics, social scientists, cognitive scientists, theologians, and psychoanalysts.4 This article aims at providing a chronology of Girard's reception in Italy, while surveying the critical literature and the intellectual response to his theory, from the publication of his first book to the present. [End Page 139]From the 1960s to the 1980s: Lies and Truth (About Girard) and the Early Reception of His BooksThe first Italian translation of Mensonge romantique et vérité romanesque5 was released by Bompiani in 1965, with a title that was both misleading and symptomatic: Struttura e personaggi del romanzo moderno (Structures and Characters in the Modern Novel). The reference to structuralism, which was the theoretical fashion of the day in Italian literary circles in the mid-1960s, and the pigeonholing of Girard's exegetical scrutiny as novelistic criticism testify emblematically to the difficulty of classification, plus the substantial misunderstanding that the book withstood both in Italy and in other parts of Europe at that time. To omit mensonge and vérité from the title of the Italian edition is to ignore the "truth" of the matter, that the book was also a mediation on the structure of human desire, extending outside the limits of representation and literature, branching out into a theory of human behavior and the social dynamic that had a profound psychological, anthropological, and sociological reach. Moreover, Mensonge romantique is a meditation on modernity (the novel being its most emblematic form of representation) and the consequences of the unleashing of increasing levels of "internal mediation" within bourgeois society. The reception of this volume was quite cold, and it was reprinted only in 1981, after the wave of discussion stirred by the publication of the Italian translation of Violence and the Sacred. The only review published between 1965 and 1979, by the literary critic Enzo Golino, appeared in 1966 in L'Espresso,6 a weekly magazine that has played, and still plays today, a determinant role in the presentation of Girardian texts to the general public in Italy.Given this minimal reception, it is not surprising that the publication of Girard's groundbreaking work, La Violence et le sacré, in 1972,7 was largely ignored in Italy, in spite of the discussion it stirred in French intellectual quarters and the cultural exchange that Italian intellectuals have always maintained with Parisian cultural circles. The only review that appeared in Italy was by Paola Daniela Giovannelli, a literary critic and an expert on Italian theater, showing that the new work clearly still suffered from the same kind of disciplinary classification and reception as Mensonge romantique. In fact, it appeared in the literary journal Lingua e stile, and it discusses the anthropology of sacrifice and the interdisciplinary perspective, ranging from ethnology to psychoanalysis to myth, that feature in La Violence et le sacré in terms of a "theatricalization" of anthropology, mainly due to Giovannelli's disciplinary interests and the book's focus on Greek tragedies.8 [End Page 140]However, Girard's name finally burst onto the intellectual scene in Italy in 1980, when the Italian translation of Violence and the Sacred was released by Adelphi, with the title La violenza e il sacro.9 This marks the "official" entrance of Girardian thought into the Italian cultural debate, as the volume was hailed by a series of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 39.1 (2001) 151-153 [Access article in PDF] Allen W. Wood. Kant's Ethical Thought. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1999. Pp. xxiv + 436. Cloth, $54.95. This book by Allen Wood in its first half gives us a state-of-the-art survey of traditional topics in the interpretation of Kant's ethics, and in the second half breaks new ground, and significantly widens the canon of works (...) that need to be taken account of in presenting Kant's ethics as a whole. Wood tells us that his main criticism of previous interpretations of Kant's ethics is that they overemphasize the universal law formulation of the categorical imperative, when the most promising version is the formula of humanity. One of the major contributions of this book is the detailed argument (passim, but especially Chapter IV) that the formula of humanity is the preferable one for understanding Kant's ethics in application, and the one used most in the Metaphysics of Morals.Part I takes the reader on the familiar traversal of the text of Kant's Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. Chapter 1 is a discussion of the topics that come up in Chapter One of the Groundwork. Chapter 2 is a coverage of the first part of Kant's Chapter Two. Chapters 3, 4, and 5, are discussions of what are usually called the first (universal law), second (humanity), and third (autonomy and kingdom of ends) formulations of the categorical imperative. The discussion of Kant's Chapter Three is brief (basically, Wood's pages 171-182).Wood comments that the proper way to expound Kant's views on ethics would be, after (1) an introductory exposition based in the Groundwork, (i.e., his Chapters 1-5) to present (2) Kant's views on "human nature and its consequences for the application of the foundational principles" (13) (his Chapters 6-9). Only then would one be in a position to "provide (3) a systematic exposition of the Metaphysics of Morals as the definitive form of Kant's practical philosophy" (13). But such an undertaking would have been too ambitious for any single book. Hence Wood's book omits part (3), though he makes significant use of the Metaphysics of Morals throughout.Wood urges his readers not to neglect his extensive endnotes (xv), where sometimes [End Page 151] important matters are discussed that could not be accommodated within the main text. In addition, in the notes one can find some fascinating passages, e.g., (1) a significant self-criticism (345, n.12). (2) Another note finds Wood saying that Andrea Dworkin borrows her views of sexuality from Simone de Beauvoir (without acknowledgment), and that Beauvoir and Sartre's views were largely anticipated by Kant. Then he adds this zinger: "These comparisons also shed light on the cogency of the condescending explanations usually offered for Kant's views on sex. For it would not naturally occur to us to attribute the views of Beauvoir or Sartre to their sexual inexperience, to the lingering effects of their excessively religious upbringing or to the puritanical attitudes characteristic of mid-century Parisian intellectuals" (397, n.11).One of the traditional topics Wood discusses is the proper formulation of maxims for evaluation by the universal law formulation. He thinks that there are bound to be some systematic failures to achieve correct results because of inadequacies of this formulation, but he discusses fairly extensively how to minimize such erroneous outcomes by correct formulations of maxims (97-107), and his discussion makes some useful contributions to this once heavily discussed topic. One might add another, almost commonsense suggestion to his: Maxims mention ends of action, as well as proposed action-kinds; since actions are thus described within maxims as means to ends, action-descriptions would include only action characteristics that are causally relevant to the achievement of the ends of actions. This reminder enables us to eliminate many irrelevant action-descriptors.Part II of the Wood book is entitled "Anthropological Applications." In this section he pursues topics that have not been central to... (shrink)

The essay starts from the worker’s speech appeared in France during the 1830s by reading a Parisian printer’s «response» to an article on Canuts revolt in Lyon. The aim is that of using this speech in order to suggest an epistemology which reflects on the way in which critical thought should be informed by socio-political experiences. The reference of such an epistemology is E. P. Thompson. In fact, the essay considers the British historian’s perspective as an overcoming of (...) the unilateral accent that the contemporary critical thought, notably Honneth’s emphasis on the socio-cultural characteristics and Rancière’s reflections on the political-enunciative aspects. (shrink)

This informative and thought-provocating book gives an intimate portrait of two major 18th-century French philosophers famous for their influence over modern aesthetics. Their personal reflexions on art, beauty and inventive genius are vividly presented in the context of Parisian artistic institutions during the reigns of Louis XIV, XV and XVI. The book offers a refreshing perspective into the pre-Revolutionary movement of the Enlightenment promoted by Diderot and the pre-Romantic sensibility modelled by Rousseau. This look back into the 18th (...) century is very suggestive in regards to the current philosophies of art and may raise new answers to old questions. (shrink)

“Our task is merely to be just”: Courtroom Scenarios in Wittgenstein’s Last Writings. As is well known, it was a Parisian court trial that inspired Wittgenstein to write his picture theory of language in the Tractatus logico-philosophicus – but less well known or at least far less reflected, are the courtroom scenarios he himself invented in his last writings, that is the writings dating from 1947 to 1951. There, Wittgenstein repeatedly sketches court proceedings by means of which he challenges (...) the validity of certain statements and modes of expression in the manner of a thought experiment, so it seems as if the courtroom serves to check and rebuke those misleading modes of expression that distort the ordinary use of language and to which we repeatedly let ourselves be tempted when philosophising. In the following, I will trace the role of these courtroom scenarios in Wittgenstein’s last writings and suggest that they primarily fulfil the methodological function of a touchstone for certain philosophical modes of expression and misleading images, and in this way help to survey the actual use of language. After a brief overview of the occurrences of courtroom scenarios in Wittgenstein’s Nachlass, I will take a closer look at some of these courtroom remarks in his later writings with regard to the modes of expression and misleading images problematised by Wittgenstein: these include the importance of inner processes, the ‘picture of the hidden inner’ as well as Moorean knowledge assertions and ‘unreasonable’ doubts. Based on this, I will finally elaborate on the methodological function of Wittgenstein’s courtroom scenarios. (shrink)

We had thought that poetry was a grace beyond biology, except for the biomovements of dancers, athletes, or those we love most. We had thought it a contradictory “organic” perfection in the relatively staying realm of the symbolical. But, no, according to Kristeva’s theory, poetry is essentially antiformal—in fact, so profoundly antiaesthetic that the proper words for describing it are not beauty, inspiration, form, instinctive rightness, inevitability, or delicacy . Instead, it attracts terms drawn from politics and war: (...) corruption, infiltration, disruption, shatterings, negation, supplantation, and murder. Poetry is the chora’s guerrilla war against culture.According to Kristeva, poetry reverses the ritualistic theological sacrifice of the soma, a sacrifice subsequently exacted, like a sales tax, through the “thetic” element of discourse, its determinate articulations. For Kristeva, the “theologization of the thetic” is what culture is —and as such it has no fundamental right to be, since what is fundamental is the chora and not God. I refer here as throughout to the revolutionary Kristeva of the late sixties and early seventies, the Kristeva whose “we,” as she says in “My Memory’s Hyperbole,” was a putatively communist Parisian party for “permanent revolution.”4 Revolution in Poetic Language is a monumental, late end product of this phase of Kristeva’s thinking; indeed, there are signs that she had already surpassed it by the time the book was published. 4. See Kristeva, “My Memory’s Hyperbole,” trans. Athena Viscusi, in The Female Autograph: Theory and Practice of Autobiography from the Tenth to the Twentieth Century, ed. Domna C. Stanton , pp. 219-35. Calvin Bedient is professor of English at the University of California, Los Angeles. His most recent book is He Do the Police in Different Voices , a study of The Waste Land. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The early history of Scotism has been extensively explored in books and articles and is a topic frequently recounted in histories of medieval scholastic thought. Although Scotus read the Sentences at Oxford and possibly Cambridge before being appointed to read the Sentences at Paris, it was at Paris that Scotism is said to have developed out of the teaching of Scotus who, except for an interruption of almost (...) a year, taught from 1302 to 1307, first as a bachelor of the Sentences and then as regent master in the faculty of theology.2 During his Parisian teaching career many students are said to have studied under him, among them Henry of Harclay, William of Alnwick, Aufredus Gonteri, “his most favorite student” John of Bassolis, “his most faithful disciple” Antonio Andreae, and Hugh of Novocastro, whose commentary on the Sentences is considered a major work of early Scotism. These students, most of whom became bachelors and masters, carried Scotus’s thought back to England, to Spain and Italy, and to other parts of France.While much of that picture is valid in its general outline, there are a number of problems with it, some because of misunderstandings about how mendicant education was structured in this period, and some because of unwarranted conclusions relating to individual biographies. In the following essay both these issues will be addressed, resulting in a different and, I hope, more nuanced picture of the emergence of early Scotism.I. Structural Considerations: Scotus in the Context of the Franciscan Educational SystemOne misconception common in the literature is that friars sent to Paris for study were enrolled as students in the faculty of theology and, if sufficiently capable, advanced in a continuous manner to become bachelors and later masters of theology. Such was not the case. By the opening years of the fourteenth century each of the mendicant convents in Paris had two distinct groups of friars simultaneously resident at the convent for educational purposes. One group, most of them probably in their twenties, was sent there for study in the lectorate program to prepare them to be lectors in the convents and studia of their home province. In the case of the Franciscans, each province could send two or three friars to Paris for advanced training in theology. These friars stayed usually for three years, were taught within the convent, and were not part of the university community or its faculties. They might number as many as a 100 depending on the period. The other group was more advanced and numbered less than ten. These were the friars designated by the order to read the Sentences at Paris, to participate as formed bachelors in the disputations and academic exercises of the faculty of theology, and if possible to be licensed and incept as doctors of theology.3Those chosen to return to Paris to read the Sentences, receive the license, and incept as a doctor of theology were in their thirties or older, and in most cases had a period of teaching and administrative duties behind them when they returned to Paris. Many, as was the case with Peter Auriol in the next decade, had already read the Sentences at a studium of the order or, as in the case of Scotus, at another studium generale before being sent to Paris to read for a second or a third time. And for those who did incept in theology, their regency lasted no more than a year or two.There are several implications that emerge from recognizing these two separate tracks or educational programs at the Franciscan convent of Cordeliers in Paris. One is that those chosen by the order to be bachelors at Paris and be presented for licensing and inception would most likely have been resident at the Paris convent at an earlier stage of their.. (shrink)

The study of the early manuscripts of the great authors most often becomes a process of monumentalising or (re)legitimising their work. The recent publication of two of Sartre's early manuscripts – first Empédocle (Empedocles) in 2016 and second, in 2018, his dissertation for his graduate diploma (diplôme d’études supérieures or DES), L'Image dans la vie psychologique (The Image in Psychological Life), both texts written in 1926–1927 – encourages us to propose another type of genetic reading that insists on the collective (...) conditions of the production of knowledge, including philosophical knowledge. Such a collective genetics, applied to Sartre's intellectual formation during the interwar years, allows us to highlight some of the little-known forms of Parisian intellectual societies (the activities of the International Information Group of the École Normale Supérieure, the critical logic of the psychology journals, the regular meetings of the cenacles, and the literary and philosophical research groups). It also reveals, at the same time, the original relationship between Sartre's thought and the German literature and philosophy mediated to him by Bernard Groethuysen, Stefan Zweig and Alexandre Koyré. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:BonaventureJay M. HammondChristopher M. Cullen, Bonaventure, Great Medieval Thinkers Series. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006. ISBN: 0-19-514925-4 (paperback); 0-19-514926-2 (hardback). Pages: xviii + 251.This volume makes a valuable contribution to the "great medieval thinkers" series from OUP by providing an accessible introduction to the philosophy and theology of the great Franciscan St. Bonaventure († 1274). The Preface presents the book's organizing principle: "to analyze Bonaventure's thought by (...) following his own division of the branches of philosophy and theology" (xi) as found in the Bonaventure's classic text On the Reduction of the Arts to Theology (text explained on 29-32; oddly the book never addresses the discrepancy in the dating of the text, c. 1254 or c. 1270). This text considers how the new core subjects of the arts, heavily influenced by Aristotle and expanding beyond the trivium and quadrivium, are illuminations that should lead back to theology, that is to Scripture, which "lies hidden in all knowledge and in all nature."Part I, contains two chapters: the Introduction and another on the definition of Christian Wisdom, the ultimate goal of the Reduction of the Arts. Part II, "The Light of Philosophical Knowledge," contains three chapters on Bonaventure's physics, metaphysics, and moral philosophy. Part III, "The Light of Theological Knowledge," includes seven chapters organized according to Bonaventure's Breviloquium: the Trinity, Creation, Sin, the Incarnation, Grace, the Sacraments, and the Last Things.The preface sets out three claims that color the rest of the book. First, as mentioned, the book attempts an "introduction to the philosophy and theology" of Bonaventure, which the book calls "Christian Philosophy" (a term introduced by Étienne Gilson, Leon Veuthey and later adopted by John Quinn). Yet, I agree with the preface that "it is not easy to say precisely what this means in practice" (xi). Although Bonaventure did employ the phrase "Christian Wisdom" throughout his writings, he never used the phrase "Christian [End Page 541] Philosophy." More explanation of this key term would have been helpful because it seems to relate more to the neo-scholastic disputes of the early to mid twentieth century than to Bonaventure's thirteenth century thought. Second, the book claims that "his Commentary on the Sentences should have a priority of place in any accurate reading" of his thought. On this point the book delivers by citing more from the Sentence Commentary than any other of Bonaventure's works (139 times overall, 63 from Book II alone), but with the much shorter Breviloquium coming in a close second (128 times). Four works come in a distant third (Hexaemeron 38, Itinerarium 32, De mysterio Trinitatis 21, and De scientia Christi 21). Unfortunately little attention is given to Bonaventure's sermons, scripture commentaries, hagiographies and spiritual tracts. Third, whatever shortcomings the book has regarding the coverage of Bonaventure's many works, the book still fulfills its claim to provide "an overview of [Bonaventure's] synthesis," which is "an elaborate and sophisticated synthesis, created in a specific historical context" (xiv).The book begins with an introductory sketch of Bonaventure's life framed by three key historic movements of the thirteenth century: the rediscovery of Aristotle, the emergence of the "universities," and the rise of the mendicant orders. These overlapping contexts are indispensable to understanding Bonaventure's writings, which the introduction surveys in general chronological order and according to genre. After reviewing his life and works, the Introduction concludes with a consideration of Bonaventure's influence. The Introduction is helpful in orienting the modern reader to Bonaventure's thought, particularly his unique synthesis of Augustine and Aristotle. However, some of the dating is imprecise. For example, in October 1255 (not 1256) Bonaventure responded to William of Saint-Amour's attacks against the mendicants with Q.1 De humilitate of his De perfectione evangelica. Thus, Bonaventure entered the secular-mendicant controversy before Thomas Aquinas and Thomas of York (12, 17). Likewise, Bonaventure most likely incepted into the Parisian consortium of masters in April 1254 not October 1257 (11).While all of Part II provides good information on the intricacies of Bonaventure's philosophy, the sections explaining [End Page 542] his hylomorphic metaphysics (42... (shrink)

This volume is the first annotated translation in any language of the entire text of the Summulae de dialectica, by the Parisian master of arts John Buridan (1300-1358). One of the most influential works in the history of late medieval philosophy, the Summulae is Buridan's systematic exposition of his nominalist philosophy of logic. Buridan's doctrine spread rapidly and for some two hundred years was dominant at many European universities. His work is of increasing interest today not only to historians (...) of medieval philosophy but also to modern philosophers, several of whom find in Buridan's ideas important clues to problems of contemporary philosophy. Gyula Klima provides a substantial introduction to Buridan's life and work and discusses his place in the history of logic. Through extensive notes Klima assists philosopher and medievalist alike to read Buridan with understanding and insight. Those with a philosophical interest in the relations among the structures of language, thought, and reality will find much to ponder in the Summulae. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Two Books on Thomas HobbesPerez ZagorinQuentin Skinner, Reason and Rhetoric in the Philosophy of Hobbes (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), xvi, 477p.The Correspondence of Thomas Hobbes, ed. Noel Malcolm, 2 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994), lxxxv, 1008p.The literature on Hobbes in English and other European languages has grown so large in the past two decades that it has become almost unmanageable by students of the philosopher. No one who (...) is interested in Hobbes, however, can afford to overlook the two books that are reviewed here, the first, Quentin Skinner’s study of the relationship of Hobbes to rhetoric, and the second, Noel Malcolm’s edition of Hobbes’s correspondence.Skinner is well known not only as a leading British Hobbes scholar and historian of early modern political thought but likewise for his ideas concerning the correct method of studying the history of political philosophy. In a view akin to R. G. Collingwood’s he maintains that there are no permanent or perennial questions in political philosophy and that a historical approach based on a thorough comprehension of context is the only way to grasp what political philosophers are doing and saying when they write their texts. In implementing this prescription, he argues that to understand a historical text it is necessary to reconstruct its author’s intentions and the meaning of his ideas by ascertaining the linguistic conventions and usages and the intellectual currents and back-ground that form its context. He offers the present study both as an exem-plification of this method and as a new interpretation of the principles of Hobbes’s political philosophy which takes rhetoric as its focal theme. His aim, he tells us, is to situate Hobbes’s theory and practice of civil science within its intellectual context and to depict the philosopher less as the author of a philosophical system than as a contributor to a series of debates about the moral sciences within Renaissance culture. Our judgment of the success of his work will accordingly depend on whether or not we are satisfied that rhetoric possessed for Hobbes and his philosophy the crucial significance that Skinner claims for it [End Page 361].In recent years a number of scholars have discussed Hobbes’s attitude to rhetoric, and there have been at least two books on the subject. 1 Commensurate, however, with its ambitious goal of proffering a new interpretation of Hobbes’s work on politics, Skinner’s treatment of his involvement with rhetoric is much richer and far more learned than preceding studies. By rhetoric most people nowadays mean no more than a writer’s literary strategy, but this is not what Skinner intends by the term. He deals with rhetoric precisely as Hobbes would have understood it and in the sense it bore in the ancient world and the Renaissance, when it signified a major discipline of knowledge concerned with the various figures of speech and devices of language that constituted an art of persuasion and eloquence indispensable in the education of the orator, the statesman, the writer, and the gentleman.Skinner perceives Hobbes’s mind as formed in the early years of his career by his classical education and immersion in the literary-rhetorical culture of English Renaissance humanism derived from Greco-Roman antiquity and ancient authors on rhetoric like Aristotle, Cicero, and Quintilian. Starting from this point, he pictures Hobbes’s intellectual evolution as consisting of three successive stages: a humanist, a scientific, and a scientific-humanist. In the first, as a late Renaissance intellectual, Hobbes’s initial interest in politics as a civil science was shaped by his involvement in the humanistic disciplines of rhetoric, history, poetry, and moral and political philosophy. The result was the publication in 1629 of his English translation of Thucydides’ History, with the observations contained in his introduction. In the second stage he turned against the literary-rhetorical character of Renaissance culture and its approach to politics. This shift, which occurred in the 1630s, was caused by his discovery of the geometrical method, his pursuit of his scientific interests through his association with Sir Charles Cavendish and his friends, and his introduction to the Parisian scientific circle of Marin... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:diacritics 34.2 (2006) 3-13 [Access article in PDF] Biographical Illusion and Methodological Reality Leland De La Durantaye Pierre Bourdieu. Esquisse Pour Une Auto-Analyse. Paris: Raisons d'Agir, 2004. 1 Like his student and friend Nietzsche, Jacob Burckhardt often stressed the necessity for a scholar to work in solitude. Like Nietzsche, he also possessed a gift for acidic analogy and likened the world of academia to a group of dogs sniffing (...) one another.Few observers of the academic interactions of his time had such sharp senses as Pierre Bourdieu, and few have been as torn between solitary reflection and communal exchange. Trained by France's most elite academic institutions (such as the celebrated Parisian lycée Louis-le-Grand and the even more celebrated École Normale Supérieure), Bourdieu was grateful for the opportunities that this training afforded him. And he felt that this gratitude could best be repaid by submitting those elite academic institutions and their insular world to an unsparing critique, to unveiling the distance that separated their stated ideals from their real effects.Like Bergson and Jaurès, like Sartre and Aron, like Foucault and Derrida, Bourdieu studied that which was most difficult and most prestigious where it was most difficult and prestigious: philosophy at the École Normale Supérieure. Like those famous fellow alumni, he was a brilliant student, and like them, he longed to distinguish his personal vision from those around him. This led him to do something surprising, something that, despite their separate and significant dissatisfactions with the philosophy of their day, neither Bergson nor Sartre, neither Foucault nor Derrida ever did: he abandoned philosophy. He left what he saw as the intellectual royal road for the most pedestrian of paths—that of sociology.As he often reminded his readers, sociology was in a sorry state when he entered it. Both in academic appraisal and the popular imagination, it was considered dry and provincial. It was thought to have no true intellectual adventure in it—nothing of the ethnologist tramping through the rain forests of the Amazon, nothing of the lone philosopher working through the night on an opus to end metaphysics. It was laborious and abstract; it dealt in statistical generalities. Bourdieu repeatedly described sociology as "the pariah of disciplines."1 He had, however, a special mission for it in mind. [End Page 3]In Bourdieu's posthumous memoir Esquisse pour une auto-analyse, published in February 2004—two years after his death—by the small publishing house he helped found, Raisons d'Agir, he notes how, "a bit as a joke," he had often defined himself as "the leader of a liberation movement aiming to free the social sciences from philosophy's imperialism" [94].2 From early on in his career, he had wished to revolt against the "empire of the total philosopher"—an empire reigned over by, more than any other, Jean-Paul Sartre [cf. 25].3 Looking back upon this decisive period of his development, Bourdieu goes so far as to state that the shaping of his identity was done "against everything which the Sartrian enterprise represented for me" [37]. In historical accounts, Sartre is often given as counterfigure his friend and fellow normalien Raymond Aron. In his Esquisse, Bourdieu proposes a different, and less conventional, counterfigure for the imperial philosopher: the brilliant Austrian satirist and cultural critic Karl Kraus. Bourdieu notes the particular affection he had always felt for Kraus and attributes it to the latter's singular capacity for "critical reflectivenesss" [37]. Subtly, and appropriately, Bourdieu follows this remark with something that occurs nowhere else in his memoir: an epigram (the composing of which Kraus excelled in). Bourdieu writes: "there are a great many intellectuals who question the world, but there are very few intellectuals who question the intellectual world" [37]. The remark could not more compactly and precisely reflect what Bourdieu had aspired all his life to do: to excel in the art and science of questioning the intellectual world. 2 Leo Spitzer liked to cite Friedrich Gundolf's dictum "Methode ist Erlebnis" (method is lived experience). Nearing the end of his career... (shrink)

In _The Preparation of the Novel_, a collection of lectures delivered at a defining moment in Roland Barthes's career, the critic spoke of his struggle to discover a different way of writing and a new approach to life. _The Neutral_ preceded this work, containing Barthes's challenge to the classic oppositions of Western thought and his effort to establish new pathways of meaning. _How to Live Together_ predates both of these achievements, a series of lectures exploring solitude and the degree (...) of contact necessary for individuals to exist and create at their own pace. A distinct project that sets the tone for his subsequent lectures, _How to Live Together_ is a key introduction to Barthes's pedagogical methods and critical worldview. In this work, Barthes focuses on the concept of "idiorrhythmy," a productive form of living together in which one recognizes and respects the individual rhythms of the other. He explores this phenomenon through five texts that represent different living spaces and their associated ways of life: Émile Zola's _Pot-Bouille_, set in a Parisian apartment building; Thomas Mann's _The Magic Mountain_, which takes place in a sanatorium; André Gide's _La Séquestrée de Poitiers_, based on the true story of a woman confined to her bedroom; Daniel Defoe's _Robinson Crusoe_, about a castaway on a remote island; and Pallidius's _Lausiac History_, detailing the ascetic lives of the desert fathers. As with his previous lecture books, _How to Live Together_ exemplifies Barthes's singular approach to teaching, in which he invites his audience to investigate with him -- or for him -- and wholly incorporates his listeners into his discoveries. Rich with playful observations and suggestive prose, _How to Live Together_ orients English-speaking readers to the full power of Barthes's intellectual adventures. (shrink)

Poststructuralism--as a name for a mode of thinking, a style of philosophizing, a kind of writing--has exercised a profound influence upon contemporary Western thought and the institution of the university. As a French and predominantly Parisian affair, poststructuralism is inseparable from the intellectual milieu of postwar France, a world dominated by Alexandre Kojève's and Jean Hyppolite's interpretations of Hegel, Jacques Lacan's reading of Freud, Gaston Bachelard's epistemology, George Canguilhem's studies of science, and Jean-Paul Sartre's existentialism. It is also (...) inseparable from the structuralist tradition of linguistics based upon the work of Ferdinand de Saussure and Roman Jacobson, and the structuralist interpretations of Claude Lévi-Strauss, Roland Barthes, Louis Althusser, and the early Michel Foucault. Poststructuralism, considered in terms of contemporary cultural history, can be understood as belonging to the broad movement of European formalism, with explicit historical links to both Formalist and Futurist linguistics and poetics, and with aspects of the European avant-garde, especially André Breton's surrealism. Each essay in this unique collection by and for educators is devoted to the work and educational significance of one of ten major poststructuralist philosophers. (shrink)

The notion of “expression”, which infuses the whole Leibnizian thought, originates, at least partially, from mathematics, for it appears explicitly in the corpus of the author, after his Parisian initiation to modern mathematics. The crucial point then consists in drawing the path that leads Leibniz from his first mathematical works about quadrature of the circle, differential calculus and series, and his discovery of perspective projection, to the notion of “expression”. Then, many mathematical elements seem to be inscribed in (...) the very nature of “expression”: the idea of transformation and preservation, of relationship between finite and infinite, or still of envelopment and development. Now, it turns out that these elements, if they are considered merely in their mathematical dimension, are sometimes more problematic than enlightening when the question is grasping what “expression” means in its metaphysical instances, and consequently that “expression” cannot be reduced to a mere mathematical notion. (shrink)

In the 17th century the dissemination of philosophical ideas relied also on the critical summaries and reviews published by the journals. The focus of this paper is the reactions of two of these journals – the Journal de Trévoux, edited by the Jesuits of the Parisian Collège Louis Le Grand, and the Journal des Sçavans – to Condillac’s works. The Jesuit journal, under the direction of pére Berthier – probably himself the author of the reviews – had a precise (...) plan in presenting Condillac’s philosophy as an anti-empiricist and anti-materialist doctrine, sometime giving a misrepresentation of the author’s thought, which is also criticized on some points. The decision of the Journal de Trévoux to review the main works of Condillac is anyway worthy of attention, and probably betrays a certain interest toward the more up to date philosophical enquiry. The Journal des Sçavans was on the other hand more faithful in presenting Condillac’s works. (shrink)

The article seeks to explore the mindset of young émigré poets of the 1920s–1930s, to identify possible ideological influences on the literature and literary criticism of the first wave of Russian emigration and to determine the spiritual origins of the ‘Paris Note.’ Among many other influences on the young émigré poetry (Henri Bergson, Nikolai Berdyaev, Vasily Rozanov, Nikolai Fedorov and others) the influence of Lev Shestov’s philosophy is particularly evident. However, it manifested itself not directly but indirectly, mainly through the (...) Parisian critic Georgy Adamovich, who, unlike young poets, read Shestov carefully and appreciated him very highly. The philosophy of Adamovich’s poetry, which brought to life the phenomenon of the ‘Paris Note,’ had many parallels with Shestov’s thoughts. Hence the unexpected concordance between the central issues and artistic practice of the participants of the ‘Paris Note’ and Existentialism emerging in the 1930s in the literature of France. (shrink)

This essay argues that Malebranche originated the model of sensitive taste in French thought, several decades before Du Bos. It examines the highly gendered, negative physiological model of taste and of the female mind which Malebranche developed within the Cartesian framework and as a witness to Parisian salon society in which women’s taste had great cultural influence, and strongly questions the common assumption that Cartesian substance dualism necessarily contained feminist potential. The essay argues for Malebranche’s great influence in (...) this regard, connecting him to later Enlightenment critics of women’s taste such as Rousseau, and to Vitalist physicians like Le Camus. -/- All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations used for purposes of scholarly citation, none of this work may be reproduced in any form by any means without written permission from the publisher. For information address the University of Pennsylvania Press, 3905 Spruce Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19104-4112. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Literature 28.1 (2004) 223-225 [Access article in PDF] Devoirs et Délices d'une vie de passeur: Entretiens avec Catherine Portevin, by Tzvetan Todorov; 395 pp. Paris: Les Éditions du Seuil, 2002, €22. Caveat lector. Let the reader beware: this is no leisurely, nostalgic stroll by another Parisian intellectual now ruminating and pontificating over issues and events outside his competence. True to his vocation as ferryman (passeur), Todorov (...) guides the reader over the vast expanses of historical, ideological, and intensely personal terrain that he has explored as an émigré of Bulgaria, a brilliant Structuralist, French citizen, father, spouse, and son caring for his aged father. The resulting mosaic composes a narrative itinerary rich in intellectual history.The exceptional range of Todorov's experience and research affords him a unique perspective. Having first lived and studied under Stalinism, he distinguished himself as a Parisian literary scholar stressing the primacy of the linguistic. Now internationally renowned, his books cover a broad spectrum of human experience, including the Holocaust, WWII, totalitarianism, the ethics of memory, the role and function of the intellectual, race and culture, ethnocentrism and conquest, and, most recently, human identity and a new humanism. Having immersed himself in numerous contexts, Todorov has acquired extensive firsthand knowledge from within. He is nevertheless adept at standing back and assessing them from without, revealing idiosyncrasies and limitations. His uncompromising scrutiny bows to no ideological a priori, nor spares any sacred cow.Some pronouncements will ruffle feathers in a number of intellectual aviaries. He values literature, for example, above philosophy, science, and the social sciences as a source of not only beauty, but meaning and truth. Contrary to the tendency to view literature as an arbitrary construction used to further an agenda of socio-economic domination and political repression, he contends that literary texts can best enrich our vision of the world and our personal sensibilities. Stressing art's essential humanity while challenging the obsession with science and technology, Todorov views language as neither estranged from reality nor subjugated by politics. Hence the impossibility of isolating literature from ethics and existence: writers legitimately seek to come to terms with the human condition, communicating experiences and sensibilities we would otherwise ignore. [End Page 223]Criticism, contends Todorov, should accordingly plunge back into the work's context or thought, as does Bénichou in studying French Classicism, or Joseph Frank in analyzing Dostoyevsky, or else it should explore anthropological perspectives, as does René Girard. Todorov's focus remains squarely on the literary work, not on the genius of theory: we have more to learn from texts of all ages than from contemporary critics who embed them in systems, reducing them to mere examples of theory.Beyond the "ethnocentrism" (p. 124) that he sees in the tendency to approach literary works through current preoccupations, Todorov delivers a severe verdict on the Marxist intellectuals so prominent throughout the 1950s, 60s, and 70s: "... the thirty years (1945-1975) that were so glorious for the French economy [were] disastrous for political thought. Ideologically, these are years of stagnation and of an intellectual straight jacket in which all discourse was judged by the measure of Marxist-Leninist dogma" (pp. 144-45, translation mine). Todorov thus deplores such irresponsibility: all while enjoying the many material comforts and civil freedoms of a free-market, democratic society, "bobos" (bourgeois bohèmes) advocated the instauration of a totalitarian regime whose economic failures and political repression Todorov had known only too well. Their actions thus were not in keeping with their discourse, for they made no effort to seriously weigh the concrete results of their ideology.Like Tony Judt, who voices similar criticisms in Past Imperfect and The Burden of Responsibility, Todorov prefers Raymond Aron's intellectual rigor and Camus's humane moderation to Sartre's knee-jerk radicalism and futile gesticulations. Given Todorov's experience and erudition, such criticisms can neither be brushed aside nor attributed to being a rear-guard action. He moreover distributes incisive criticisms to the Right, to the Left, and even to the Center. But... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:diacritics 35.1 (2005) 3-6MuseSearchJournalsThis JournalContents[Access article in PDF]Whispers of the Flesh Essays in Memory of Pierre KlossowskiIan JamesRussell Ford Pierre Klossowski—novelist, essayist, painter, and translator—was one of the most startling, original, and influential figures in twentieth-century French intellectual culture. The older brother of the well-known painter Balthus and a close associate of Georges Bataille, Klossowski's diverse oeuvre includes novels, philosophical essays, and translations, as well as paintings and films. (...) Confined thus far to an undeserved but somehow fitting shadow existence in the margins and notes of theorists who have become mainstays of Anglo-American criticism, Klossowski's own work has increasingly become a focus of critical interest for its decisive contribution to the development of thought and aesthetics in France from the 1950s onward. Born in 1905, the eldest son of Polish émigrés, Klossowski spent his first ten years in Paris in an artistic milieu, heavily influenced by the neoimpressionism of figures such as Bonnard and Derain. His father, Erich Klossowski de Rola, was a painter and art historian, the author of an important monograph on Daumier. His mother, Baladine, was also a painter and trained under Bonnard. While still a teenager Klossowski was introduced to the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke, with whom he became close and who in turn introduced him to the novelist André Gide. At eighteen he became Gide's secretary and assisted him with the drafts of his famous novel Les faux-monnayeurs.Not until 1930, however, did Klossowski's own career properly begin, when he translated with Jean-Pierre Jouve a collection of poems by Friedrich Hölderlin. Throughout his life Klossowski was a prolific and influential translator from both German and Latin into French, translating amongst others Nietzsche, Kafka, Heidegger, and Wittgenstein from the German, and Suetonius, Virgil, Augustine, and Tertullian from the Latin. While working for the prominent Parisian psychoanalyst René Laforgue, Klossowski published his first philosophical essay on the Marquis de Sade in 1933 in the Revue française de la psychanalyse. Scandalized by Klossowski's Nietzschean-inflected psychoanalytic interpretation of Sade's writing, Laforgue dismissed Klossowski immediately. Throughout the 1930s Klossowski made a number of key friendships and acquaintances, most importantly with Georges Bataille, but also many others, including Walter Benjamin, André Masson, Jean Wahl, and Maurice Heine. During this period he published several articles and collaborated with Bataille on the review Acéphale and in the avant-garde experiment of the Collège de Sociologie (where, it is said, he would attend meetings dressed in a soutane). During the war years Klossowski trained in a number of Catholic seminaries, a vocation which ultimately failed and led to the writing of his first novel, La vocation suspendue. In the postwar period he married [End Page 3] a war widow, Denise Morin Sinclair, who had been interned in Ravensbrück for her activities in the Resistance and who became the model for Roberte, a key figure in much of Klossowski's fiction and painting. After the war Klossowski began to publish the influential works for which he will chiefly be remembered: literary-philosophical essays on Sade and Nietzsche (among others), as well as six important novels written between 1950 and 1965, La vocation suspendue (1950), the three works, originally published separately, which went on to form the Lois de l'hospitalité trilogy—Roberte ce soir (1954), La révocation de l'Édit de Nantes (1959) and Le souffleur ou le théâtre de société (1960)‚—and, finally, Le Baphomet (1965).Klossowski's seminal 1947 work, Sade mon prochain, was one of the first full-length literary and philosophical studies of Sade's work to be published in France and marked a decisive break from earlier accounts. Whereas earlier treatments of Sade had focused either on biographical detail or on the medical and psychosexual import of his life and writing, Klossowski's reading was concerned with the intertwined figures of law and transgression in Sade's work. After Sade mon prochain French intellectuals and writers... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:THE VIRTUES OF MAN THE ANIMAL SOCIALE: AFFABILITAS AND VERITAS IN AQUINAS 1 KEVIN WHITE Catholic University of America Washington, D.C. XSTOTLE'S definition of man as the 'qlov '1ToAmKov 2the city-dwelling animal-undergoes an interesting transformation in the scholastic Latin of St. Thomas Aquinas : while the epithet of the definition occasionally appears in Aquinas's writings as transliterated, in animal politicum, or as thoroughly domesticated, in William of Moerbeke's translation (...) animal civile, his preferred version of the Aristotelian formula is animal sociale, though he sometimes says politicum et sociale, politicum vel sociale and sociale et politicum.8 For these uses of the term sociale, Aquinas is indebted not only to earlier writers of Latin but also to the genius of the language itself, whose words sociale and societas seem to have no equivalent in Aristotle's Greek. Less formal and explicit than the polis or civitas, what is meant by societas is rather the pervasive and mostly unacknowledged element within which cities are founded and continue, and which consists in the specifically human way of being together or, as Heidegger says, Mitsein. It is easy to discern in Aquinas's opposition between politicum and sociale the ancestor of our own commonplace and sharp contrast between " politics " and " so1 This paper was read in Buenos Aires on September 14, 1991, as a contribution to the sixteenth annual Semana Tomista of the Sociedad Tomista Argentina. 2 Politics I, 1, 1153a2-3. a For a survey of texts, see Edgar Scully, "The Place of the State in Society According to St. Thomas Aquinas," The Thomist 45 (1981): 407-429. The present discussion may be regarded as a gloss on the theme of this article that the social is prior to the political. 641 642 KEVIN WHITE ciety," though we should be careful not to identify our way of speaking with his: whereas we view " society " as a historical product, and so distinguish among different societies, societas for him, as for the ancient Romans, primarily connotes the universally human activity of coming together in association or alliance : it names that essential feature of human combination which is prior to institutions and to recognitions of special friendship, but which, just because it is a good of our nature, prevents human togetherness from being reduced to a bare co-presence. An illustration of the way in which Aristotle's reflections on human nature are both complicated and enriched, in Aquinas's appropriation of them, by the Roman notion of societas may be seen by comparing the differing treatments which the latter gives of the " social " virtues of truthfulness and friendliness in his commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics and in the Summa Theologiae. In both texts, to be sure, these virtues pale in significance beside such impressive qualities as courage and moderation; nevertheless, a notable increase in their importance seems to occur between the commentary, where, in keeping with the order of Aristotle's text, they appear as members of a series of virtues related to merely secondary matters, and the Summa, where they are elevated to a status among the " potential parts " of the virtue of justice and are distinguished by their relevance to the needs of man the animal sociale. Let us consider this difference in presentation, bearing in mind that the two texts were composed approximately simultaneously and fairly late in Aquinas's career, that is, during his second Parisian sojourn in 1269-72." I The commentary on the Ethics introduces the fourth book of the work as a sequel to the third : after discussing courage and moderation, which concern those things by which the very life of man is preserved, Aquinas says, here, in Book IV, the Philos4 For the chronology, see James A. Weisheipl, O.P., Friar Thomas d'Aquino: His Life, Thought and -YVorks, with Corrigenda and Addenda (Washington, 198~)' pp. 361, 380. AFFABILITAS AND VERITAS IN AQUINAS 643 opher treats of other "intermedaries," namely seven virtues and the feeling of shame, which are related to " certain secondary goods or evils." 5 Among the seven virtues, the first four have to do with external things, whether the external goods of wealth and honor or the external evils... (shrink)

This article examines the claim that Duns Scotus’s position on the will’s freedom changed between his early Lectura teaching to his late Reportatio lectures on Distinction 25 of Book II of the Sentences. Stephen Dumont in “Did Duns Scotus Change His Mind on the Will?” suggests that Scotus moves closer to the position of Henry of Ghent on the will. The Franciscan had criticized that position in his earlier teaching. In order to demonstrate that Scotus’s voluntarism continues to be moderate, (...) the author first explicates the notion of a rational will in Scotist thought, by means of the two affections of the will and the position outlined in Scotus’s Questions on the Metaphysics of Aristotle Book IX, Q. 15. Following this, a textual comparison of Lectura II, D. 25 with Reportatio II, D. 25 shows that there is indeed a shift, but not toward a more exaggerated form of voluntarism. Rather, close reading of these texts reveals that, in his early teaching, Scotus did not think the will was the rational potency, and did not identify its freedom with rationality. In the later Parisian teaching he presents the will as the sole rational potency, thereby diminishing the role of the intellect, but not that of rationality. The textual evidence of Ordinatio II, D. 6, Questions on the Metaphysics, Lectura II, D. 25 and Reportatio II, D. 25 show that Scotus’s final teaching on the will integrates rationality into the functioning of freedom, and does not align him with Henry’s position, despite similarity of language. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Descartes and the Last ScholasticsBlake D. DuttonRoger Ariew. Descartes and the Last Scholastics. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999. Pp. xi + 230. Cloth, $42.50.The attempt to understand Descartes vis-à-vis the scholastic tradition dates back to the studies of Etienne Gilson early in this century. Though Descartes saw himself as a revolutionary who would overthrow the Aristotelianism entrenched in the universities, Gilson was able to demonstrate his reliance upon (...) a variety of scholastic sources for important terminology, distinctions, and arguments which permeate his writings. Unfortunately, this line of investigation was largely ignored among Anglo-American scholars who were generally hostile to Scholasticism and uninterested in contextualizing Descartes's thought. However, since the mid-eighties there has been a distinct shift in attitude as scholars have increasingly turned their attention to the place of Scholasticism within Descartes's intellectual environment. Among these, Roger Ariew has to be counted as one of the most sophisticated, and his new book, Descartes and the Late Scholastics, marks an important contribution to the growing literature on the topic.Ariew's book is actually a collection of essays published over the last decade, including two which he co-authored with Marjorie Grene. Many of these have been substantially expanded to include fresh material and reworked so as to give the whole a greater sense of continuity. After a marvelous opening chapter in which he lays out his overall account of Descartes's attitude towards Scholasticism, Ariew presents the remaining essays in two large groups: those dealing with the immediate context of Descartes's thought and those dealing with its reception through the early part of the eighteenth century.Among the more interesting results of the first group of studies is Ariew's claim that the scholastic climate in and around Paris during Descartes's lifetime was predominately Scotistic rather than Thomistic. He shows this by looking at positions taken by a number of Parisian schoolmen on important issues which typically divided Scotists and Thomists. Ariew goes on to argue that not only was the Parisian environment Scotistic, but that Descartes aligned himself with the Scotists on many key issues in both physics (e.g., that time is independent of motion) and metaphysics (e.g., that the principle of individuation is a form). This is certainly an intriguing claim since most studies of this type have viewed Descartes in relation to Aquinas and those Jesuit thinkers who were broadly Thomistic in outlook. In bringing to light this Scotistic background, Ariew has opened up an important new line of inquiry.Other topics included in this first section are the literary and philosophical background [End Page 275] to the "new way of ideas" of which Descartes is a founder, the place of Descartes's doctrine of matter and form in seventeenth century debates over hylomorphism, and the reaction of Scholastics to the observational results of the new astronomy. What emerges in these essays is not only a highly nuanced view of Descartes's relation to Scholasticism, but an important corrective to still prevalent views of the Scholastics as reactionary and blindly opposed to developments within the new science. This last point is made with particular force in the fifth essay entitled "Scholastics and the New Astronomy." There Ariew argues that the astronomical observations of Galileo et alia were not in themselves decisive for overthrowing the Aristotelian cosmology as it had been articulated in the seventeenth century. This is because scholastic astronomers were generally accepting of such findings (e.g., sunspots) and were able to accommodate them within their own systems by making relatively minor adjustments. Although these systems ultimately proved themselves inadequate, Ariew makes a strong case that the Aristotelianism of the seventeenth century was sufficiently fluid to accommodate most of what the astronomers offered up. Thus the necessity for a radical overhaul of basic philosophical and scientific assumptions was by no means as evident as standard histories of this period would have us believe.The second section of the book is dedicated to debates over Cartesianism and its fate in the generations immediately following Descartes's death. Here Ariew provides a wealth of detail about various condemnations of Cartesianism, a comparative study of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Many scholars have contended that Clare of Assisi’s original intention upon leaving her family home to take up religious life sometime around 1211 was to lead a life essentially like that of the mendicant friars.1 She and the women who soon joined her would be not only poor and penitential, but also itinerant and apostolic. Like the friars their life would be marked by both insertion into the world (...) and seclusion from it as they alternated between active service and recollected contemplation. The important proof text for this claim is a passage in a letter composed by Jacques de Vitry in 1216, just five years after Clare’s conversion. Many scholars, including Paul Sabatier, Luigi Pellegrini, Roberto Rusconi, Marco Bartoli, Ingrid Peterson, Chiara Frugoni, Giovanni Boccali, and Chiara Augusta Lainati believe the text to be the earliest witness to the manner of life led by Clare and her followers during their initial years.2 The letter has been used to argue further that the women were explicitly grouped together with the Lesser Brothers, were known by the parallel title of “Lesser Sisters,” and had the freedom to come and go as they wished during their early years in San Damiano.Since claims about the women’s early likeness to the friars’ mendicant way of life are often made as brief assertions resting on Jacques’s letter, I think it important to consider in a more detained fashion the provocative passage thought to support them. Closer scrutiny of Jacques’s text shows that while none of these claims can be entirely ruled out, importantly, none can be supported with any solid evidence. I agree essentially with scholars such as Lilly Zarncke, Ernest McDonnell, Maria Pia Alberzoni, Jacques Dalarun, and Lezlie Knox who consider the letter’s language too general to know if it refers specifically to Clare and her sisters.3 I suggest, furthermore, that there are reasons to conclude that this is certainly unlikely if the passage is interpreted to mean, specifically, that Clare and her sisters carried on an active apostolate outside of San Damiano.Jacques de Vitry is generally recognized as one of the most astute and forward-thinking observers of his time in terms of recognizing the importance of new religious groups. A Parisian master, canon regular, and bishop, Jacques had the opportunity to live in a variety of settings, including his native France, the Low Countries, Italy, and the holy land.4 In 1216, he traveled from Liège in the Low Countries to Perugia to be consecrated bishop by Honorius III, who himself had just been elevated to the papacy.5 Along with observations about other matters, Jacques shared the following comment about religious men and women in a letter that he sent almost certainly to a group of his friends back in Liège. He was writing in the early days of October 1216 as he was leaving Italy on a boat that would carry him to his new episcopal see in Acre. The letter, the first of six that survive, is prized not only for its reference to the Lesser Sisters, but also as the very first written testimony regarding the Franciscan movement in general. The great nineteenth-century historian Paul Sabatier thought it provided a more vivid and precise description of Francis’s ministry than any single passage contained in his early biographies.6 The passage, which represents less than seven percent of the entire letter, is rendered thus in a widely available English translation:I found one consolation in those parts, nevertheless: many men and women [multi enim utriusque sexus], rich and worldly, after renouncing everything for Christ, fled the world. They are called Lesser Brothers and Lesser Sisters [fratres minores et sorores minores]. They are held in great esteem by the Lord Pope and the cardinals. They do not occupy themselves with temporal affairs, but work each day with great desire and.. (shrink)

Fournissant une nouvelle edition ainsi que la premiere traduction francaise integrale du celebre decret parisien de 1277, cet ouvrage comprend egalement un commentaire qui entend montrer que, par-dela l'opposition entre orthodoxie et heterodoxie, la condamnation de l'eveque Tempier implique des enjeux epistemologique et ethique d'une grande importance pour l'histoire de la pensee en Occident. Providing a new edition and the first complete French translation of the famous 1277 Parisian decree, this book also includes a commentary which intends to show (...) that, beyond the opposition between orthodoxy and heterodoxy, the condamnation promulgated by the bishop Tempier involves epistemological and ethical issues of great importance for the history of Western thought. (shrink)

Paul Henri Thiry, Baron d'Holbach was a philosopher, translator, and prominent social figure of the French Enlightenment. In his philosophical writings Holbach developed a deterministic and materialistic metaphysics which grounded his polemics against organized religion and his utilitarian ethical and political theory. As a translator, Holbach made significant contributions to the European Enlightenment in science and religion. He translated German works on chemistry and geology into French, summarizing many of the German advances in these areas in his entries in Diderot's (...) Encyclopedia. Holbach also translated important English works on religion and political philosophy into French. Holbach remains best known, however, for his role in Parisian society. The close circle of intellectuals that Holbach hosted and, in various ways, sponsored produced the Encyclopedia and a number of revisionary religious, ethical, and political works that contributed to the ideological basis for the French Revolution. Despite the radical views of many members of his coterie, however, Holbach's broader visiting guest list included many of the most prominent intellectual and political figures in Europe. His salon, then, was at once a shelter for radical thought and a hub of mainstream culture. (shrink)

In 1923, Paul Valéry created an artificial world of antiquity. In it the sea could wash up things which, because of their brilliance, hardness, and unfamiliar form, interrupted and irritated well-established habits of thought. Nature or art? Given or created? Earthly or heavenly? Eupalinos, the architect, does not find himself in the position to decide. He throws back into the sea the shiny, ball-like thing he had picked up from the shore only seconds before.1 In the 1950s, the situation (...) has changed markedly. Parisian consumer society uses the polished floors of exhibition halls and salesrooms to create encounters with similarly enigmatic and wonderful objects. However, one can no longer take these .. (shrink)

This volume explores the theological thought of John Mair, a significant 16th-century Parisian scholar. It includes articles exploring his positions on humanism and scholasticism, faith and theology, the Trinity and Incarnation, ethics and casuistry, and justification and sacraments.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The View from Pȏle NordSartre, Beauvoir, and Girard on Mimesis, Embodiment, and DesireMartha J. Reineke (bio)Simone Beauvoir's novel She Came to Stay immerses readers in a 1930s Parisian social scene, thanks in part to the character Françoise. Eavesdropping with Françoise on a man and woman seated at a table in the Pȏle Nord café, readers of the novel hear the woman confide, "I've never been able to follow (...) the rules of flirting. I have a morbid horror of being touched."1 As Françoise invites us to turn our gaze toward another couple seated nearby, we observe a possible instance of the very discomfort to which the first woman has attested. A hapless female looks "uncertainly at a man's huge (grosse) hand that has just pounced on hers (s'abattre sur)."2 Of these two scenes from She Came to Stay, Jean-Paul Sartre memorializes only the second.3 As described by Sartre in Being and Nothingness, a man and a woman on their first date are seated at a table. The man "takes" (prend) the hand of a woman and holds it between "his warm hands" (les mains chaudes) while the woman makes her hand inert, even as she "permits herself to enjoy his desire."4 Thanks to the pervasive influence of Being and Nothingness on the philosophical canon, the disquieting scene Françoise describes in She Came to Stay largely has been forgotten. Sartre sets the [End Page 1] terms for the unfortunate woman's ongoing life: She is a paradigm of "bad faith." Two decades later, her immortality is secured by René Girard: The woman is a prime exemplar of coquetry, a "fundamental" concept in the development of Girard's theory of mimetic desire.5In the wake of today's #metoo headlines, we may find ourselves eager to weigh in anew on the scene at Pȏle Nord. Are we witnesses to flirtation? Seduction? Unwanted sexual attention? Debates about coercion and guile, predators and prey, are unlikely to be productive; after all, Girard has advised that participants in such debates flounder in a problematic victimology.6 Nevertheless, Sartre and Girard's fascination with the mise en scène at Pȏle Nord warrants reexamination on other grounds. Sartre's discussion of the young woman beset by bad faith in Being and Nothingness is one of several instances in which Sartre is shown exerting a significant influence on Girard. Focusing closely on these occurrences, we can identify features of Sartrian existentialism that contribute constructively to the development of Girard's thought. So also can we uncover a problematic view of the body in mimetic theory. Girard shares with Sartre a profound ambivalence toward embodiment. An alternative perspective visible in Beauvoir's writing could enhance the treatment of the body and eroticism in mimetic theory.Girard's early work attests to Sartre's influence. Writing in Evolution of Desire, Cynthia Haven introduces the topic of Sartre's impact on Girard by recounting Parisian intellectuals' responses to tensions between Camus and Sartre: "Everyone took one side or the other." Girard's friends reported that Girard "was on the Sartre side."7 In an interview with Rebecca Adams, Girard states that "I was influenced by Sartre and Camus, like other people of my generation, especially by Sartre."8 Girard acknowledges Sartre's influence in several other contexts. In a 2007 interview with Pierpaolo Antonello, Girard recalls his early philosophical interests: "… From Sartre I went to Merleau-Ponty and all the authors related to phenomenology, which fascinated me and for a while I wanted to write in the phenomenological style."9 Commenting in the 2008 preface to La Conversion de l'art, Girard states that he is struck by the Sartrian "tone" of his own writing.10 Scholarly explorations of the specifics of the influence of Sartre on Girard have cataloged the most important Sartrian concepts: a lack of being, the in-itself/for-itself (en-soi/pour-soi); the "projet"; patterns of desire (e.g., masochism and sadism), and bad faith.11 These themes are discussed in what follows, with special attention to Girard and Sartre's perspectives on human... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy, Psychiatry, & Psychology 9.4 (2002) 383-385 [Access article in PDF] Minding Your Language:A Response to Caroline Brett and Stephen Sykes Marek Marzanski and Mark Bratton THE PAPER BY Jackson and Fulford (1997), to which ours is a preliminary response, has opened up an important and much-needed conversation on the borderlands of theology, philosophy, and psychiatry. We are deeply grateful for lapidary and attentive responses to our paper from (...) Caroline Brett and Stephen Sykes, in which each have affirmed the value of this conversation, but also indicated the issues that need to be thought through in greater depth. Sykes makes the point, quite rightly in our view, that the language of both theology and psychiatry are needed to illuminate the gray area between spirituality and mental disorder. Part of the difficulty, perhaps, has been the tendencies of theologians and psychiatrists alike either to speak past each other's shoulders or to refuse to engage in conversation at all (Watts 2002).Both commentators have accurately represented the core arguments of our thesis: that genuine spirituality may involve ego disablement and that positively evaluated psychotic, action-enhancing experiences are not, by definition, spiritual. They also both agree that religious traditions may offer resources that help discrimination at the borderlands of theology and psychiatry, beyond the reach of descriptive psychopathology. However, Brett has helpfully drawn attention to a number of possible weak spots that deserve further reflection:the distinction between breaking downand breaking throughand the possible continuing value of using the criterion of preserved or enhanced functionality; our failure to appreciate the precision with which Jackson and Fulford use the language of psychosis; and the uncertain clinical value of a schema that only allows an assessment of the contribution of an experience to spiritual reorientation after the event.Although it is not appropriate in the form of a final response to engage with these issues in depth, we thought that a few brief observations might be in order. Breaking Down and Breaking Through Brett's distinction between breaking down and breaking through is helpful but may disintegrate where the breaking down itself is considered to be constitutive of spiritual experience. The Pauline insight "for when I am weak; then I am strong" (2 Cor. 12:10, New Revised Standard Version [NRSV] 1989) finds vivid expression, for example, in the life of the Abbe Marie-Joseph Huvelin (Williams 1994). This Parisian curate, with chronic [End Page 383] and debilitating ill health and an almost unrelieved sense of personal worthlessness that bordered on despair, managed to transmit hope to an astonishing range of people who came to him for spiritual direction. There was no obvious, schematic breaking through the rigors of ego disablement to sunlit uplands of ethical conviction or renewed sense of vocation. It is by no means clear that he would have wished his predicament on anyone else, let alone himself, notwithstanding the fruitfulness of his ministry. The breaking down was arguably part of his life-long vocation and it perhaps stretches the meaning of action enhancement a little too far to use it encompass the often paradoxical nature of sanctity. The Language of Psychosis An important feature of good conversation is mindfulness in the way language is used and guardedness against misrepresenting the position of one's conversation partner. The expression of our discomfort with the application of the language of psychosis to spiritual experience was perhaps designed primarily to signpost our concern with certain reductive and assimilating tendencies in modern psychiatry. Perhaps psychotic may be used with precision and designed to draw attention to the complexities of discriminating at the borderlands of theology and psychiatry. Words, nonetheless, have resonance—philosophically and culturally—that radiate well beyond the boundaries of precise usage. The same could be said of Brett's use of anomalous, which might refer to a range of phenomena that most people would regard as abnormal: hallucinations, synesthaesia, out-and of-body, past-life, and near-death experiences. It is legitimate, we contend, to draw attention to these resonances even if they stray... (shrink)

Il XII secolo rappresenta per il mondo monastico un periodo di grande splendore dal punto di vista culturale e filosofico, in particolare grazie a figure come Bernardo di Chiaravalle e Guglielmo di Saint-Thierry, la cui riflessione rappresenta da una parte la maturità della tradizione monastica altomedievale, dall’altra il coronamento e la chiusura di un periodo, più che l’apertura di uno nuovo.Paradossalmente il XII secolo segna anche un periodo di crisi profonda, in cui i monaci, che per secoli sono stati al (...) centro dei dibattiti teologici e filosofici, sembrano lasciare il posto agli ordini mendicanti. Nel secolo successivo i francescani raccolgono in un certo senso l’eredità monastica, riprendendola in modo originale, come Guglielmo ha fatto con Agostino, riuscendo così a renderla capace di partecipare ai nuovi dibattiti filosofici e a trovare posto all’interno degli ambienti universitari. Un esempio chiaro è offerto da Bonaventura da Bagnoregio, uno dei più grandi rappresentanti nel XIII secolo della tradizione agostiniana rivista alla luce dell’ispirazione francescana. Bonaventura riprende dalla tradizione monastica alcuni temi: la superiorità dell’amore, della volontà e del bene sull’intelletto, la centralità della relazione e dell’analogia nel rapporto tra uomo e Dio. Il linguaggio del filosofo francescano è in un certo senso simile a quello usato da Guglielmo: non è semplicemente evocativo, letterario e platonico, in quanto condivide le forti esigenze logiche e la nuova terminologia caratteristica dell’aristotelismo diffuso nell’università parigina.Prendendo in esame la riflessione di Bonaventura, con particolare riferimento a Legenda maior e a Itinerarium mentis in Deum, e prestando attenzione ai temi riconducibili alla tradizione agostiniana e monastica, si può cercare di chiarire fino a che punto esista un legame con tale tradizione e quanto ci sia invece di originale e tipicamente francescano. The twelfth century is a period of great splendor for the monastic world from the cultural and philosophical point of view, thanks to philosophers like Bernard of Clairvaux and William of Saint-Thierry in particular. Their philosophical thought represents not only the maturity of the early medieval monastic tradition and its crowning achievement, but also the closing of a period, rather than the opening of a new one.Paradoxically, the twelfth century is also a period of profound crisis, in which the monks, who for centuries have been at the center of theological and philosophical debates, seem to leave their place to mendicant religious orders. In a sense, during the following century the Franciscans collect the monastic legacy, recovering it in an original way, as William of Saint-Thierry did with Augustine’s philosophy. The Franciscans also succeed in making this inheritance capable of participating in the new philosophical debates, also in university environments. A clear example is Bonaventure from Bagnoregio, one of the most important philosopher in the thirteenth century that recovered the Augustinian tradition reconsidering it thanks to his Franciscan inspiration. Bonaventure picks up from the monastic tradition some themes: the superiority of love, of will and of good over the intellect, the importance of relationship and of analogy in the link between man and God. In a sense we can say that the language of the Franciscan philosopher is similar to William’s language: it isn’t simply evocative, literary and platonic, because it shares the strong logical requirements and the new terminology of Aristotelianism spread in Parisian university.Considering Bonaventure’s philosophy, focusing on Legenda maior and Itinerarium mentis in Deum, and paying attention to the themes related to the Augustinian and monastic tradition, we can try to clarify the link with this tradition and what on the contrary is original and “typically Franciscan”. (shrink)

The physician Louis de La Forge built his entire work upon the promotion, defensce, and completion of Descartes’ thought. In the course of this endeavor, he sought to refute the notion that knowledge of the mechanisms of the living body is the necessary condition for producing such mechanisms. Around the same time, Arnold Geulincx formulated the principle Quod nescis quomodo fiat id non facis, according to which an effect can only be produced only by someone who knows how it (...) is produced. Geulincx developed this principle within a Cartesian framework, and it soon became a cornerstone of arguments supporting oOccasionalism from a Cartesian perspective. La Forge instead upheld the opposite thesis, yet still on the basis of ideas drawn from Cartesian philosophy. In doing so, La Forge intended to defend Descartes’ physiology against a form of vitalism which was fueling the opposition to Cartesian science in Parisian philosophical and scientific circles, and which found a prominent champion in the physician Cureau de La Chambre. (shrink)

In this paper, we will consider the theoretical aspects of Leibniz’s thought on infinitely small and infinite quantities in the context of the natural philosophy developed by him in the Parisian period. We will hold that in the texts of this period an attempt of problematizing concepts of infinitary mathematics is found, which is not in the strictly mathematical texts. In this perspective, we also propose that there is in Leibniz a “double methodological record” concerning the question of (...) the infinity and of the infinitesimal. As a mathematician, Leibniz is concerned about technical questions related to the construction of the infinitesimal calculus, in its different aspects, without be concerned about the philosophical challenges its adoption implies. However, as a philosopher and a metaphysician, Leibniz is obliged to deal with epistemological and ontological problems that emerge from the adoption of technical resources in matters of infinitesimal mathematics. (shrink)

This paper analyzes Paul of Venice’s theory of measurement of natural properties and changes. The main sections of the paper correspond to Paul’s analysis of the three types of accidental changes, for which the Augustinian philosopher sought to provide rules of measurement. It appears that Paul achieved an original synthesis borrowing from both Parisian and Oxfordian sources. It is also argued that, on top of this theoretical synthesis, Paul managed to elaborate a quite original theory of intensive properties that (...) marks him out not only from the nominalist framework of his Parisian sources but also from the usual realist treatments of the problem. Finally, it is shown that, to a certain extent, Paul undertook to apply the mathematical and logical tools inherited from the Calculatores tradition to empirical problems of natural philosophy, leading to reevaluate his role in the evolution of scientific thought in early 15th-century Italy. (shrink)

In _The Preparation of the Novel_, a collection of lectures delivered at a defining moment in Roland Barthes's career (and completed just weeks before his death), the critic spoke of his struggle to discover a different way of writing and a new approach to life. _The Neutral_ preceded this work, containing Barthes's challenge to the classic oppositions of Western thought and his effort to establish new pathways of meaning. _How to Live Together_ predates both of these achievements, a series (...) of lectures exploring solitude and the degree of contact necessary for individuals to exist and create at their own pace. A distinct project that sets the tone for his subsequent lectures, _How to Live Together_ is a key introduction to Barthes's pedagogical methods and critical worldview. In this work, Barthes focuses on the concept of "idiorrhythmy," a productive form of living together in which one recognizes and respects the individual rhythms of the other. He explores this phenomenon through five texts that represent different living spaces and their associated ways of life: Émile Zola's _Pot-Bouille_, set in a Parisian apartment building; Thomas Mann's _The Magic Mountain_, which takes place in a sanatorium; André Gide's _La Séquestrée de Poitiers_, based on the true story of a woman confined to her bedroom; Daniel Defoe's _Robinson Crusoe_, about a castaway on a remote island; and Pallidius's _Lausiac History_, detailing the ascetic lives of the desert fathers. As with his previous lecture books, _How to Live Together_ exemplifies Barthes's singular approach to teaching, in which he invites his audience to investigate with him--or for him--and wholly incorporates his listeners into his discoveries. Rich with playful observations and suggestive prose, _How to Live Together_ orients English-speaking readers to the full power of Barthes's intellectual adventures. (shrink)

Since the 1980s, there have been many attempts to bring together Critical Theory of Frankfurtian strain and French theories generally referred to as poststructuralist. The present text seeks to readdress the problem of their tricky articulation by taking a look at some vicissitudes those two currents of thought underwent in Brazil. In addition to the risk – embedded in the Parisian passion for dissolution – of positivizing atrocious aspects of Brazilian society related to the country’s multi-secular informality and (...) backwardness, what is at stake is the adequate understanding of the meaning and relevance of dialectical criticism in a peripheral country, in other words, the capacity to weigh the influx and gravitation of foreign ideas and forms in a society of inorganic culture, the possibility, finally, of critically verifying the supposed universality of hegemonic theories and categories in light of a cultural experience amassed under a heterodox modernization. (shrink)

Louis Althusser remained until his death in 1990 the most controversial of the “master thinkers” who emerged from the turbulent Parisian intellectual scene of the 1960s. The publication of his bestselling posthumous “autobiography”, L'avenir dure longtemps, has now refueled some of these controversies. Hugely influential, whether lauded or vilified, Althusser occupies a unique place in contemporary philosophy. What is certain is that Althusserian themes and motifs continue to constitute a vital region in materialist thought. The Althusserian Legacy is (...) the first collective attempt to draw up a balance sheet, not on Althusser alone but on the questions that his work helped to bring to the forefront of Marxist theory. The volume brings together work in history, philosophy, economics, sociology, and literary criticism, all of it derived from or significantly inflected by Althusser. Taken together, the essays assess soberly, critically, but always generously, the full extent of his legacy. The volume contains a lengthy interview with Jacques Derrida, a long-time friend and colleague of Althusser at the Ecole Normale in Paris, and concludes with obituaries by Derrida and Gregory Elliott. Perhaps only now, more than a decade after his active intellectual life has come to a close, is it possible to render sound, just judgments on the meaning and significance of this much-debated body of work. The Althusserian Legacy is a rich beginning to that important task. (shrink)

continent. 2.1 (2012): 6–21. The French philosopher and novelist Tristan Garcia was born in Toulouse in 1981. This makes him rather young to have written such an imaginative work of systematic philosophy as Forme et objet , 1 the latest entry in the MétaphysiqueS series at Presses universitaires de France. But this reference to Garcia’s youthfulness is not a form of condescension: by publishing a complete system of philosophy in the grand style, he has already done what none of us (...) in the older generation of speculative realists has done so far. His book is sophisticated, erudite, rigorous, imaginatively rich, and abundant in worldly wisdom– despite the author’s conclusion that wisdom does not exist. The quality and scope of Forme et objet took few observers by surprise, since Garcia has been treated as an emerging philosopher to watch across half a decade of Parisian oral tradition. But Garcia was not just the subject of rumor, being already well known to the French public as a writer of fiction. His debut novel, La meilleure part des hommes , 2 was awarded the 2008 Prix de Flore 3 and has already appeared in English as Hate: A Romance . 4 His follow-up novel, Mémoires de la jungle , 5 made clever use of a chimpanzee narrator. Nor was Garcia only published as a novelist before last November: his philosophical study L’Image 6 had already appeared when the author was just twenty-six, a year before he was crowned by the muses at the historic Café de Flore. And then in 2011, just months before the appearance of Forme et objet , Garcia published a widely distributed work entitled Nous, animaux et humains , 7 with its focus on Jeremy Bentham’s ideas about animals. Given this prolific and versatile track record, an optimistic scenario might envisage the young Garcia as one of those combined literary/philosophical talents who appear intermittently in France across the centuries: Jean-Paul Sartre is merely the most famous recent case. While more time is needed to see how Garcia will channel his impressive mental energies, Forme et objet displays such breadth of insight that its author has a good chance to emerge as one of the leading philosophers of his generation. If we accept Aristotle’s dictum that the peak mental age is fifty-one, then to read Garcia’s massive book is to gain some idea of what European philosophy might look like in the futuristic-sounding 2030’s. The present article is confined to Forme et objet . At 486 pages, the work is obviously daunting in size. Indeed, it is even longer than it sounds, given that many of its early sections are printed in a smaller typeface to designate them as supplemental commentary to the main flow of the argument. But while the length of the book reportedly led to delays in French publication, and will probably slow the inevitable appearance of an English translation, the length of the book should not deter interested readers– much of it results from Garcia’s teacherly writing style. Whereas Quentin Meillassoux’s prose displays an arctic economy of means, Garcia’s style is reminiscent of the repeated lessons of oral classroom proceedings. Rarely is the reader given fewer than three or four chances to master an idea before the author moves on to the next. In practice, the style feels welcoming rather than long-winded. Otherwise, the structure of Forme et objet is surprisingly simple. There is a useful Introduction of less than twenty pages. Then comes Book I: Formally , running to approximately 135 pages. Here Garcia outlines the most basic features of a thing “no matter what it is,” or n’importe quoi , an everyday phrase that Garcia shapes into a technical term. This part of the book feels at times like a more amiable version of Hegel’s Science of Logic , a parallel emphasized further by the threefold articulation of its theme: 1. Thing; 2. Thing and World; 3. Being and Understanding. This is followed by the much longer Book II: Objectively , totaling more than 300 pages. It contains sixteen essay-like meditations on specific kinds of objects—including time, animals, humans, history, gender, and death. Here each chapter rolls smoothly into the next, making this second part of the book feel more like a different work of Hegel: The Phenomenology of Spirit . But these are merely analogies. Garcia is no Hegelian, even if the book contains a few dialectical flourishes that seem to reflect his early enthusiasm for the Frankfurt School. Forme et objet ends with a six-page Coda, followed by the usual page of acknowledgments. In what follows, I will briefly summarize each of these four parts of the book before ending with some more general remarks. Before doing so, it will be useful to situate Garcia biographically (as much as I am able) and philosophically. Though Toulouse is his native city, his formative years were spent largely in Algeria, where his family has deep roots. During our sole private conversation, Garcia mentioned that his parents are professors of literature. 8 As a student of philosopher Garcia flourished so early that many of his current ideas date to his teenaged years: “There are sentences in Forme et objet that I wrote when I was seventeen,” he said in response to a question on that cold night on the Canal St.-Martin. I recalled that remark when reading his brilliant account, late in the book, of the central role of adolescence in contemporary culture. While many prodigies blow through their formal academic training without serious obstruction, Garcia’s student memories are rich in tales of isolation and struggle, though equally rich in gratitude for a half-dozen or so exceptional teachers who provided the intellectual space he needed: Meillassoux and Alain Badiou are simply two of the most prominent figures on that list. Though there are many points of agreement between Garcia’s philosophical position and my own, he not only reached his position years before reading my work, 9 he arrived along a rather different path: not through phenomenology, but via the Frankfurt School, which may be one of the reasons for his profound fascination with aesthetics. Garcia’s cultural background is as broad as one could wish: he is no less informed about punk rock and European football leagues than about the spiritualist roots of Bergson’s philosophy. Curious about everything and contemptuous towards nothing, Garcia can be expected to write insightfully on dozens of topics in the years to come. Given that his philosophy is so personally tantalizing in its agreements and disagreements with my own, and given the great internal richness of Forme et objet itself, the present review is no better than a first effort at coming to terms with the challenges posed by this minstrel from the rising generation. This is especially intriguing for older Generation X’ers like me, since confrontation with the younger generation is one of the many themes treated insightfully in Garcia’s book. 1. Introduction Garcia begins in defense of a so-called “flat ontology,” in which all things are equally things. While Roy Bhaskar 10 used this term pejoratively to refer to anti-realist philosophies that flatten everything onto an epistemic plane of human access, Manuel DeLanda 11 (an admirer of Bhaskar) reversed it into the positive principle that all realities are equally realities. Similar notions can be found in the “absistence” of Alexius Meinong, 12 the “irreduction” of Bruno Latour, 13 and my own critique 14 of the undermining/overmining pair. Also noteworthy is Levi Bryant’s use of the term “flat ontology” throughout The Democracy of Objects 15 and his earlier essay “The Ontic Principle.” 16 But for Garcia, flatness is only one face of the cosmos, and one that he ultimately declares to be rather impoverished. Even so, he always remains an advocate of a flat ontology. Insofar as everything is equally something, no matter what it is ( n’importe qui ), everything is equally a thing, equally solitary in its relation with world. This is why his book abounds in those long lists of random, ontologically equivalent entities that Ian Bogost has playfully termed “Latour Litanies.” 17 The first litany in Garcia’s book runs as follows: “We live in this world of things, where a cutting of acacia, a gene, a computer-generated image, a transplantable hand, a musical sample, a trademarked name, or a sexual service are comparable things.” (7) Yet Garcia is frankly dualistic; his flat ontology only lasts until page 159 and the end of Book I (entitled “Formally”), which deals entirely with things that are equally things. Thereafter Garcia turns his attention from things to objects, which are not flat in the least, but engage in hierarchical relations with one another. In agreement with both DeLanda and the speculative realists, Garcia proclaims that his book “proposes to put to the test a thought about things rather than a thought about our thought about things .” (8) Just as ducklings are “imprinted” (9) after hatching and treat the first creature they see as their mother, philosophers are imprinted by the idea with which they begin. Hence, philosophies that begin with human access will never truly find their way back to things. This makes Garcia rather suspicious of twentieth century philosophy, since “the twentieth century—to which in some way this work proposes to bid adieu—has been a period of theorizing modes of access to things rather than things...” (9) Among other possible benefits of the philosophy of things that Garcia proposes, it is fully able to account for thought as a special variant of things, while the reverse is not possible.(10) In Book I of Forme et objet , Garcia’s “things” are so flat, so de-determined, that he is forced to renounce some of the most basic features ascribed to things by most realists. As he tells us in his foreboding third footnote: “We will maintain that the solitude [of things] is less than unity, less than identity, and that it does not imply acceptance (any more than refusal) of the principle of non-contradiction.” (11) In a contemporary world cluttered with too many things, Garcia’s flat and formal plane provides us with some breathing room: “The formal plan of thought enables or re-enables us to cut short all accumulation—whether of knowing, experience, or action—by a simplicity, an impoverished surface...” (13) As Garcia says elsewhere in responding to a Deleuzian critic of the book, his starting point in flat ontology is designed to obstruct the claims of both analytic philosophy and Hegelianism: “Hence, this work seeks to protect each thing—real, imaginary, inconsistent, contradictory—both against Ockham’s Razor and against the Aufhebung or dialectical process.” 18 Yet contrary to the equalizing spirit of many flat ontologies, “we will add to our formal ontology of the equal, an objective ontology of the unequal.” (13) But initially, Garcia joins all flat ontologists in holding that everything is irreducible: “this irreducibility, which we will term the ‘chance’ of each thing... also marks the refusal of a positive thought that reduces things exclusively to natural things, or social things, or historical things, etc.” (15) This irreducible “chance” of a thing emerges as an important technical term in the book, always paired with its inverted brother, the “price to pay” ( prix à payer ). On pages 17-19, we find the only diagrams in the book. What they illustrate is that Garcia wishes to avoid two equally dangerous extremes. The first is the philosophy of substance, featuring the thing-in-itself as a mighty river fed by attributes as if by subordinate tributary streams. This model can be found in many of the classic thinkers of West and East alike. In it, “there is obviously a hierarchization between that which is dragged towards something other than itself, and this other which serves it as an ontological support while supporting its proper being.” (16) For Garcia, the second extreme worth avoiding is the philosophy of events: “One thus conceives trajectories of being, identified as events, facts, powers, intensities, or intentionality. These vectors of being come first, bearing and supporting being, displacing it, but without ever finding a stopping point, a buffer, an objective consistency.” (17) The first model gives us a thing too wrapped up in itself, too compact . This word “compact” (the French and the English are the same) is another technical term for Garcia. But if the “compact” model of things leads us to something more than things, the philosophy of events gives us less than things, by dissolving them into a play of vectors. Garcia’s alternative lies midway between these two extremes: Being enters the thing, being comes out of it. And a thing is nothing other than the difference between the enters and the being that comes out. Thus, the circuit of being is never halted. In the thing, there is never the thing-in-itself. And the thing is never in-itself, but outside of itself. Nonetheless, being is not eventally “pollinated” by vectors: it possesses an objecting halting-point... (19) This single idea is the key to Garcia’s book: the thing is neither a self-contained durable lump nor some sort of evental flux. Instead, the thing is the difference between its various components and its relations with its environment. Or stated differently: “the price to pay for this disposition is a circulation of being that systematically distinguishes two senses of things: that which is in the thing , and that in which the thing is , or that which encompasses it and that which it encompasses,” (19) translating comprendre here as “encompass.” 19 In a beautiful description of a piece of black slate, Garcia sums up the various minerals, qualities, and shapes that compose [ comprend ] it, and calls them “that which is in the thing,” (20) noting that this tells us nothing about “that in which [the slate] is”—namely, all the various situations in which the black slate can be found. Instead, the slate is the difference between these two: the most characteristic principle of Garcia’s philosophy. 2. Formally Book One of Forme et objet , “Formally,” is concerned with the formal equality of all things in a flat world. “Two questions mark the boundaries of reflection: of what is everything composed [ composé ], and: what do all things compose?” (27) Looking downward, we wish to know what everything is made of; looking upward, we want to know the ultimate result of the combination of all things. Here we must turn our attention to the thing n’importe quoi— no matter what it is. (30) Anything with finite qualities is obviously too specific to be relevant to global ontological questions. To an equal degree, something possessing all qualities (think of Whitehead’s God) 20 would not be n’importe quoi either, since it would still be too definite, even if incredibly vast. The same holds for contradictions, since these all differ from each other. The square circle, the non-white black white, and the non-city city are all too distinct to count as the thing no matter what it is. The n’importe quoi must be devoid of all specific qualities, including contradictory ones. In one of the more intriguing points in his book, so reminiscent of Meinong, Garcia proclaims that “the ‘no matter what it is’ is neither a reality nor an abstract construction, nor both of these at once; the ‘no matter what it is’ is simply the plane of equality of that which is real, that which is possible, that which is inexistent, that which is past, that which is impossible, that which is true, that which is false, that which is bad.”(39-40) Since everything has two faces, it would be a grievous mistake to focus on just one of them at the expense of the other, as physicalism or materialism do when reducing the world to minuscule physical underpinnings. For scientistic materialism, “it is either atoms, particles, or fields of force... which are the things.” (47-48) Moreover, “these more-than-things are accompanied by less-than-things: for example, ideas or facts of consciousness are determined by the state of matter and are not autonomous things, but manifestations reduced to secondary effects of material processes...” (48) On this point, Garcia’s position is in complete accord with my own critique of undermining and overmining. 21 Where we disagree is that Garcia is more deeply suspicious of the notion of substance, which I view as salvageable with a few needed changes, while Garcia sees this operation as hopeless: “A substance, in the history of philosophy, is the more-than-thing par excellence.” (51) Another agreement between our positions is visible when Garcia claims (correctly, in my opinion) “that it is vain to distinguish between things which are material and those which are not.” (52) Yet we also find an even more important disagreement, since for Garcia withdrawal cannot be the quality of a thing. Instead, the absence of a thing is simultaneous with it, embodied in all that is not it– the absence of the sculpture of a woman is to be found in the mold that appears at the same time as it, and thus withdrawal must be viewed as an “event” rather than as something pertaining to an object. For Garcia, nothing withdraws beyond access. Since we must distinguish between “that which is something” and “that which something is,” and since the former is identified with “no matter what it is is” and the latter with “ not no matter what it is,” we can say that “everything is thus a milieu, a fragile link between ‘no matter what it is’ and ‘ not no matter what it is.’” (62) And here we find Garcia’s critique of the thing-in-itself: “A thing is never defined en bloc . We can affirm that a thing is this or that, but that does not suffice. It is still necessary to state precisely that which is this thing .” (62) Stated differently, “something is not in itself : for that which is in the thing is not the thing, and that in which the thing is is not the thing.” (62) And here Garcia and I, facing the same evidence, draw opposite conclusions. For me, the fact that nothing can be identified with either its components or its concrete location means that the thing must be something in-itself distinct from both of these. Yet for Garcia, to be in-itself would mean to be identified with just one of these two extreme terms, and hence the thing can only be the difference between them. Garcia is equally suspicious of the classical tendency to view “unity” as a property of the thing, since in his eyes unity is too relational a property to belong to things. (65) While specific things are situated determinately with respect to other things, we are still speaking here about the thing no matter what it is, and this can be viewed only in terms of solitude, which all things share: a human being, a hand, or a chair or all equally things insofar as they are on their own , not insofar as they are one . (64) A thing is alone, and relates only to the one thing that is not another thing: world. In a striking parallel to my own argument for a partial revival of occasionalism, Garcia tells us that “the things communicate only by their solitude: it is because everything is equally on its own in the world that things can be together, enmeshed in one another.” (67) Alone in their solitude, things all relate to world, which serves as a mediator allowing them to become mixed up in one another. As we have seen, one reason that nothing can be in itself is because everything is in something else. For Garcia, “to be in something and to be something are equivalent.” (69) Stated more broadly, “being is thus the difference between the two aspects of each thing: that which is it, and that which it is.” (70) And even more vividly: “a thing is almost like a sack: there is that which one puts in the sack and that which remains outside the sack.” (70) But not quite like a sack, “since a thing is not a thin skin or film. Instead, a thing is comparable to a sack that is immaterial and without thickness: it is nothing other than the difference between that which is this thing and that which thing is, between content and container.” (71) Nothing can be in-itself because everything is two selves at once. For example, we cannot say that our self is defined by our consciousness: “Everything has a self because nothing is in itself. The self is not the quality of that which is related to itself (which is conscious, for example) or which thinks itself related to itself. Nonetheless, for an entity called ‘conscious’ to be related to itself, it is necessary that this very relation should be another thing than the self to which it is related.” (71) Consciousness cannot be the self, precisely because it is other than that of which it is conscious. Nothing is able to grasp itself. The self is “the function by which being and composition [ compréhension ] are mutually excluded...” (72) The self is “the point of shadow of everything that projects some light...” (72) The in-itself faces two opposite dangers: “For something to be in-itself is to be a self. Something which is a self flies out through one of its two sides... Stated differently, being in-itself is simply the possibility of a double failure.” (73) The in-itself can be termed compact : “There remains to us a means of thinking that which does not fully enter into the world, though without exiting from it. This means is what we call the compact.” (76) In a sense, the compact is the opposite of the world. For in the case of the world, everything enters it and it enters nothing; as for the compact, it enters the world (since it is something, after all) while nothing enters it. (77) The compact marks the presence of the impossible in the world. (78) It is not impossible, but possible only on the condition that it fails. (78) The time has come to speak of where a thing is located. “The sole condition of a thing is that of being in another thing than itself, and thus in another thing than something.” (78) A condition is “that which determines something, that which forms something, that in which something is.” (78) As for humans, “the condition of someone is his situation; my social condition is that which socially determines me, my place and my function...” (79) More generally, “to be conditioned is to find oneself reduced to that in which one is.” (79) Everything is conditioned, but nothing is reducible to this condition. To determine the condition of something is to determine in what it is. A thing is located in that which contradicts it, just as a statue exists in its mold, which is precisely that which it is not. Since the thing is finite and definite, its condition or form must be infinite and indefinite. That in which all things are is the world, which Garcia also terms “the whole.” (81) “To try to be in-itself is to attempt to remain outside the world. And indeed, to try to be in-itself is only a path of entry into the world.” (83) For Garcia, “the world is not the pre-existent container of the things it contains, a priori , nor the construction by the mind of a fictional ensemble of all things, a posteriori .” (85) Instead, the world is simultaneous with all things; the two always go together. The world cannot be a determinate world, such as the physical universe or mathematical space, since these are already too specific and limited. “Every determinate world, which is in fact a universe , is a ‘big thing’ [ grosse chose ]: it is a set, however vast, of composite things which itself embodies a thing.” (85) Every determinate world is really just a “big thing.” Stated differently, “it is nothing other than a balanced milieu between the things that compose it and the thing that it composes.” (85) We generally picture the world as a physical univer. (shrink)

At the age of eighty, one of the most influential yet reclusive intellectuals of the twentieth century consented to his first interviews in nearly thirty years. Hailed by Le Figaro as "an event," the resulting conversations between Claude Lévi-Strauss and Didier Eribon (a correspondent for Le Nouvel Observateur) reveal the great anthropologist speaking of his life and work with ease and humor. Now available in English, the conversations are rich in Lévi-Strauss's candid appraisals of some of the best-known figures of (...) the Parisian intelligentsia: surrealists André Breton and Max Ernst, with whom Lévi-Strauss shared a bohemian life in 1940s Manhattan; de Beauvoir, Sartre, and Camus, the stars of existentialism; Leiris, Foucault, Dumézil, Jacob, Lacan, and others. His long friendships with Jakobson and Merleau-Ponty are recalled, as well as his encounters with prominent figures in American anthropology: Lowie, Boas (who suddenly died in his chair beside Lévi-Strauss at a banquet at Columbia University), Benedict, Linton, Mead, and Kroeber. Lévi-Strauss speaks frankly about how circumstances and his own inclinations, after his early fieldwork in Brazil, led him to embrace theoretical work. His straightforward answers to Eribon's penetrating questions—What is a myth? What is structuralism? Are you a philosopher?—clarify his intellectual motives and the development of his research; his influential role as an administrator, including the founding of the Laboratory of Social Anthropology and of the journal L'Homme; the course of his writings, from Elementary Structures of Kinship to The Jealous Potter; and his thoughts on the conduct of anthropology today. Never before has Lévi-Strauss spoken so freely on so many aspects of his life: his initial failure to be elected to the Collège de France; his reaction to the events of May 1968; his regrets at not being a great investigative reporter or playwright; his deep identification with Wagner, Proust, and Rousseau. This is a rare opportunity to become acquainted with a great thinker in all his dimensions. (shrink)

It has been 140 years since a full biography of William of Auvergne (1180?-1249), which may come as a surprise, given that William was an important gateway of Greek and Arabic thought and philosophy to western Europe in the thirteenth century, and one of the earliest writers in the medieval Latin west on demonology. Lesley Smith's aims in this book are two-fold: first, to take a closer look at William, the human being, how he saw the world and his (...) place in it; and to uncover William's interactions with his Parisian congregation through the nearly 600 sermons he left after his death. Smith has mined these writings, unremarked in previous scholarship, to give us a different perspective on the schoolmaster, bishop of Paris, and strict theologian we have come to know: a preacher who spoke and ministered not just to the powerful and elite, but also to commoners, to the poor, and to the less fortunate. Through a study of the sermons, Smith creates a broader landscape of William's thought and life, highlighting his attention to the importance--and limits--of language, and his attempts to find a way to address the concerns of the larger populace. In his preaching, we get a sense of the balance William achieved, in the way he communicated religious teachings, in his understanding of the concerns of ordinary Parisians, and in his awareness of the ebb and flow of daily life in a medieval city. The book will interest scholars of intellectual history and philosophy, religion, and literary studies more broadly for Smith's innovative method of excavating the sermons in pursuit of William the person, and his humanity. An altogether "new" William for the twenty-first century. (shrink)

The unity of God and man in the intellect is the fundamental teaching of Meister Eckhart on which he bases the system of his thoughts. Since there is a metaphysical and a psychological aspect to this teaching the book naturally falls into two parts: The first part is devoted to the analysis of divine nature, the second examines the human soul. God and man are essentially the same in their highest point: God's innermost essence is unity, which Eckhart identifies with (...) intellect. But intellect is also the highest peak in the human soul, the famous spark. By studying both Eckhart's German and Latin works, from the early Parisian Questions to the German sermons, this study also shows the unity of Eckhart's thought in all genres of writing. (shrink)

With volume 5 the publication of the actual text of Henry's fifteen Quodlibetal Questions begins. Macken's edition is preceded by a valuable introduction, which itself commences with discussions of Henry's life and writings. Macken then surveys the manuscripts containing Quodlibet I and explains in detail the procedure he has adopted in reconstituting the text and the editing techniques he has employed. As he points out, Quodlibet I was given its definitive written form by Henry himself, and is not a mere (...) report drawn up by someone else who would have been present at its oral presentation. It should here be recalled that the Quodlibetal Question developed in Parisian University circles in the course of the thirteenth century as a distinctive literary genre of philosophical and theological writing. The Quodlibets themselves as we have them in written form reflect their origins in those special public oral sessions which were held twice a year in the Theology Faculty, and at which certain Masters would open themselves to questions from one and all about any appropriate topic. After this evidently taxing exercise, a Master would have the right to readdress himself to the questions that had been raised on some following day when meeting with his own students. By then he would have introduced some kind of order into the various topics originally proposed for discussion. And at some subsequent time, probably during the course of the next year, he would release them for publication, but only after having carefully revised them. As one might expect, the very nature of such an exercise opened the way for consideration of a bewildering variety of topics ranging widely over areas such as speculative and moral theology, metaphysics, natural philosophy, moral philosophy, and canon law. This variety is clearly reflected in the 42 questions examined in Henry's first Quodlibet. Thus one finds him here considering questions treating of Trinitarian theology, the hypostatic union, unicity vs. plurality of substantial form in man, Eucharistic theology, the possiblity of an eternally created universe, the relationship between essence and existence in creatures, and the possibility that prime matter could be sustained in existence by God apart from any substantial form. Questions are also raised relating to the nature of the soul both in its separated state and in its state of union with the body, and the relative priorities of intellect and will and their interrelationship in the act of choice. Finally, a host of other topics of less immediate interest to philosophers are also examined, such as the fate of infants who die without baptism, confessional jurisdiction, the guilt of a teacher who is primarily concerned with his own glory, etc. At the risk of oversimplification, certain positions defended by Henry in this Quodlibet will be mentioned because of their interest to students of metaphysics. In q. 4 he leaves open the possibility of defending unicity of substantial form in man. In qq. 7-8 he eliminates the possibility that any creature could have existed from eternity and, therefore, the possibility of an eternally created universe. In q. 9 he rejects real distinction between essence and existence in creatures and defends his well known "intentional" distinction between them. Here too he has already developed his unusual view of the essential being enjoyed by creatures insofar as they are objects of God's knowledge and have exemplar ideas in God. In q. 10 he denies that prime matter is pure potentiality and maintains that God could, if he should so choose, keep matter in existence without any substantial form. In q. 14 he defends the preeminence of the will over the intellect, and in a number of succeeding questions enters into intricate discussion of the interrelationship between reason and will in the act of choice. Perhaps these indications will be enough to give the reader some idea of the general direction of Henry's thought with respect to the topics in question. Anyone who has already examined earlier printed editions of Henry's Quodlibets will be delighted with Macken's superb edition of Quodlibet I. Apart from its great critical value, this volume is beautifully printed, handsomely bound, and appropriately indexed. This reviewer, for one, is eagerly awaiting the appearance of subsequent volumes in the series. All will be required reading for students of late thirteenth- and early fourteenth-century philosophy and theology.--J.F.W. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Wager of Lucien Goldmann: Tragedy, Dialectics and a Hidden GodDavid WetselThe Wager of Lucien Goldmann: Tragedy, Dialectics and a Hidden God, by Mitchell Cohen; xi & 351 pp. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994, $35.00.Students of Pascal’s Pensées for the most part know Lucien Goldmann because of his 1959 landmark study, The Hidden God. Still controversial after thirty-five years, Goldmann’s theories concerning the Pensées have never been accepted (...) by mainstream Pascal scholarship. Jean Mesnard, France’s leading expert on Pascal, wrote in 1976 that “Goldmann’s Pascal is perhaps tragic, but he is most certainly a Molinist.” Mesnard, however, went on to acknowledge that no other critic before Goldmann had recognized the extent to which Pascal occupies a permanent place in the history of ideas. “To criticize Goldmann,” Mesnard went so far to say, “risks making Pascal less powerful.”Most pascalisants have erroneously assumed that Goldmann’s reading of Pascal represented nothing more than the imposition of Marxist theory upon the text of the Pensées. Among the revelations of Mitchell Cohen’s new study is that, to the contrary, Pascal represents one of the essential formative influences on Goldmann himself: “By the time he returned to Paris after the war, Goldmann was thoroughly conversant with Pascal’s oeuvre.... The appeal to him of Pascal was natural; Pascal was both a believer and a scientist.... [Goldmann] stated that were he to rewrite [Kant] he would assert that ‘Pascal was the first’ in the history of dialectical thought” (p. 48).Students of Pascal will be particularly fascinated by Cohen’s revealing analysis of Goldmann’s The Hidden God in the first section of chapter six of his study. Cohen’s account of Goldmann’s Towards a Sociology of the Novel (1964) and of his essays on Genet will likewise fascinate students of literature. However, The Wager of Lucien Goldmann goes far beyond those questions with which Goldmann’s name has been most closely associated in literary circles. The product of a painstaking excavation of Goldmann’s philosophical development, Cohen’s book recaptures a period of postwar Parisian intellectual life which drew to an end only with the events of 1968 and which has been obscured in recent years by postmodernism.A critic both of existentialism and of structuralism, Goldmann is portrayed by Cohen as the leading representative of Western Marxist humanism. Rejecting both the doctrine of Marxism’s “scientificity” and the traditional Marxist vision of the proletariat, Goldmann insisted upon Marxism’s need to reinvent itself. Specialists in Marx, Hegel, Heidegger, and particularly Lukács will appreciate Cohen’s careful explanations of Goldmann’s links to these key thinkers. Perhaps most fascinating is his account of the debate between Goldmann and the “anti-humanists”: “When the humanist Goldmann ‘transcended’ liberalism, he did so in the specifically Hegelian sense of negating and preserving at once, absorbing what was vital into socialism, while annulling [End Page 409] its abstractions. After all, he conceived socialist humanism as the culmination and not the annulment of Western culture...” (p. 290).This study, which I recommend to all students of modern France as well as to my fellow pascalisants, is, of course, not essentially meant to be a biography. Yet one sometimes finds oneself yearning for a more intimate portrait of Goldmann the man. Once he leaves his native Romania in the early 1930s, he seems to become the classical Parisian academic intellectual with no real personality of his own. Yet Cohen manages at least to neutralize Julia Kristeva’s parody of Goldmann in The Samurai, her roman à clef about French intellectuals in the 1960s, as quoted by Cohen: “Graying, pot-bellied, smiling, with his shirt open and of course no tie, he addressed everyone by the familiar tu and was always ripping up existentialism and lauding dialectical reason (as overhauled by Pascal), alienation, and the New Novel.”David WetselArizona State UniversityCopyright © 1995 The Johns Hopkins University Press... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:diacritics 30.2 (2000) 43-69 [Access article in PDF] Tracing Ricoeur Dudley Andrew François Dosse. Paul Ricoeur: Les Sens D'une Vie. Paris: La Découverte, 1997. [PR] The Time of the Tortoise Gilles Deleuze chose not to see the end of the century that Michel Foucault claimed would be named after him, a century that began just as philosophy registered the aftershocks caused by the work of his closest progenitors, Nietzsche (...) and Bergson. Amplifying the waves they made with tempests of his own, Deleuze tried to capsize the flat-bottom boat of academic philosophy by insisting that it look beyond its own discourse for both the life and the vocabulary to account for life that should be its only mission. Scanning French philosophy for what it might contribute to art, fiction, and cinema, I invoke the stirring character of Deleuze, but I do so to deflect attention to another figure, Paul Ricoeur, whom Deleuze conveniently sets off by contrast.Less than a decade since his death, Deleuze is in danger of having ceded his claim to Ricoeur, the real long-distance runner, who is now pressing his publications into the new century, moving relentlessly beyond his exhausted reviewers. Last year, a fanfare of publicity greeted La mémoire, l'histoire, l'oubli, another magisterial tome appearing too late to be included in François Dosse's intellectual biography or in my overview here, which lifts off from that biography. Ricoeur, destined to keep writing--unable to conclude his conversation with philosophy--has outlasted Deleuze, whose notoriety derives from the radical break he makes with the thought of our times, for his abrupt deviations and more abrupt conclusions. Ricoeur's reputation rests seldom on anything conclusive but instead on his persistent interaction with and deployment of so much of that thought. By accident or by savvy design, Ricoeur's trajectory (initiated in the phenomenological atmosphere of the prewar era) has taken him through myth criticism, psychoanalysis, structuralism, language philosophy, analytic philosophy, deconstruction, poetics, historiography, ethics, and epistemology. He carries his learning forward to each new endeavor, not believing in "the radical break" or the prefix post-.François Dosse tracks Ricoeur in a magnificent account that places its subject in relation to each of these movements. But Parisian academic fashion forms only one facet of a life whose brilliance is refracted as well by theology, politics, and a remarkable social network. The thickness of his life evidently provides Ricoeur the necessary ballast to maintain his orientation on the stormy seas of intellectual debate. In fact, across a span of seventy years of uninterrupted reading and writing, he has anticipated, invoked, or debated virtually every important school of French thought, doing so in a way that both establishes their value and serves his own agenda. Ricoeur profits from the productive tension that results, even--indeed, especially--when this brings about a dislocation of his views. These exchanges inevitably leave his own ideas clearer, more defensible, and invulnerable to charges of parochialism. Although Ricoeur concludes his three-volume Time and Narrative with an aggressive chapter explicitly asking, [End Page 43] "Should We Renounce Hegel?," there is something deeply Hegelian about this strategy of taking on, then managing to assimilate, all comers so as to emerge stronger. Ricoeur may not share Hegel's limitless arrogance (literally arrogating everything to himself), but his humility is equally ambitious.There was never any question for Deleuze about renouncing Hegel. His antipathy to this "philosophe de l'État" was immediate, total, and itself completely arrogant. As for Ricoeur, Deleuze apparently avoided the man Dosse dubs "philosophe de la Cité," at least before 1986. Then, he links their names after each had just published a multivolume treatise on temporality and fabulation, Deleuze's cinema books picking up the notion of "bifurcated time" that Ricoeur had just developed in Time and Narrative. Proust was explicitly a key source for both of their studies. But apparently, and outwardly, it gets no closer than this. In concatenating these two French philosophers, I follow the lead of Olivier Mongin, who finds them both to be supreme philosophers of time, yet incompatible on... (shrink)

The oeuvre of Brazilian-born and Parisian-educated Michael Löwy is widely recognised as the achievement of an exacting revolutionary cultural worker who integrates theory with his political duties, and labours hard at his craft so that the poetic imagination can reclaim and thereby re-enchant the reified reality of capitalist modernity. Nevertheless, when we come to Löwy’s reputation in the United States we face a curious situation. There is no doubt that his work is known and respected among many activists and (...) scholars. Yet from the perspective of the needs of the Marxist Left, the disparity is striking between what Löwy has to offer as a militant thinker and the actuality of his impact. The search for an explanation of such a discrepancy must begin with a preliminary stab at what I regard as a ‘Löwyian’ interpretation of Michael Löwy’s life and writings. The method includes an exploration of his possible ‘elective affinities’, defined in a broad sense, with the cultural and political work of US radicalism since the 1960s. Are there analogies, kinships, or attractions of meaning that have entered into a relationship of reciprocal appeal and influence? In the end, however, I conclude that the disproportion between potential and actual stems largely from fractional perceptions of his accomplishment that are rooted in the peculiarities of US Marxist thought in general and of US Trotskyism in particular. Such partial and one-sided assessments are a profound barrier because the achievement of Michael Löwy needs to be understood in its totality. (shrink)