Emotions are essential for human existence, both lighting the way toward the brightest of achievements and setting the course into the darkness of suffering. Not surprisingly, then, emotion research is currently one of the hottest topics in the field of psychology. Yet to divine the nature of emotion is a complex and extensive task. In this book emotions are approached thought an exploration of the nature of cognition in emotion; the nature of thoughts in feelings. Different approaches to emotions are (...) explored, from brain research to research at the level of experience, and it is argued that all approaches must seriously take into account the experiential dimension. A qualitative study of experiences with art is therefore presented, as emotions and cognition are often expressed in experiences with art. It is the first study of its kind. Descriptions of various affective phenomena are then given which have significant implications for contemporary debates about emotions, resolving several contemporary controversies. ContentsAcknowledgementsIntroductionChapter 1: Describing EmotionChapter 2: Describing CognitionChapter 3: Theories about the Emotion-Cognition RelationshipChapter 4: Experiences with ArtChapter 5: A Phenomenological Study of Art AppreciationChapter 6: DiscussionBibliographyIndex. (shrink)

Empathy is a psychologically significant phenomenon. It plays a key role in the development of the self, sociality, and prosocial behaviour. The term empathy originated in 19th-century aesthetics, where the concept was seen as an explanation for aesthetic experience. Despite renewed interest in the relation between empathy and aesthetic experiences, investigations into how empathy shapes experiences of art are still scarce. Given this situation, we ask the following three questions: What does one experience when experiencing a work of art empathetically? (...) What is given during such moments? How is consciousness structured in aesthetic empathetic experience? To answer these questions, we analysed five different experiences with visual art using a phenomenological psychological methodology. We found that a complexity of psychologically significant meaning arises from the empathic experience of art. The core aspects of this meaning are captured in a structure incorporating experience of a foreign subjective sense, reliving and affective adherence, interiorisation, pleasure in sharing, and affective understanding. Based on this structure, we argue that aesthetic empathy features a sense of otherness to a degree not previously recognised and that aesthetic empathy is an inherently intersubjective experience in which the spectator is invited to participate and share feelings expressed in the work of art in moments of aesthetic presence. (shrink)

Philosophy of aesthetics and beauty has traditionally prioritized the sense of vision while deprioritizing the more basic-bodily and thus less “noble” sense of touch. This paper examines bodily aspects of how beauty appears in the experience of visual art and motivates the view that touch is fundamental to such experiences. We appeal to Merleau-Ponty to show the relevance given to touch in his phenomenology of aesthetics, to unfold the meaning of touch as “reversible,” and to understand how vision can be (...) conceptualized as a form of touch. Further, we present four cases of feeling touched by beauty in experiences of visual art collected through interviews with art museum visitors. The descriptions of these experiences show that when people open themselves to an artwork they also open themselves to themselves. Based on the qualitative descriptions, we discuss how Merleau-Ponty’s phenomenology of touch is revelatory of the meaning of feeling “touched” in experiences of beauty. (shrink)

This article describes what it is like to experience beauty in visual art. Our phenomenological analysis of interviews with visual art museum visitors shows that beauty appears as the relationship between two different experiential modes. Initially, the perceiver feels herself affectively and bodily immersed in the perceived while awareness of herself pulls back. Self-awareness eventually returns, allowing for a subtle yet distinct mode of reflection in which the viewer looks back at the initial moment of felt connection with the perceived. (...) Our analysis suggests that beauty experience arises when a slight perceptual distance allows for a subtle mode of reflection on the involvement with the artwork that took place in the immediate past. The initial moment returns as an affectively charged memory, which the perceiver longs to restore or repeat. The article relates beauty’s apparent two-fold nature to the question of how the fundamental capacity for aesthetic experience psychologically develops. It concludes that beauty experience originates from the combined capacity of self-forgetful immersion and self-contemplative distance. (shrink)

The “life phenomenology” theme of the 35th International Human Science Research Conference challenged participants to consider pressing questions of life and of living with others of our own and other-than-human kinds. The theme was addressed by keynote speakers Maxine Sheets-Johnstone, Ralph Acampora and David Abram who invoked a motile, affective and linguistic awareness of how we might dwell actively and ethically amongst human communities and with the many life forms we encounter in the wider, wilder world we have in common. (...) Conference participants were provoked to consider the following questions: “How might phenomenology have us recognize a primacy of movement and bring us in touch with the motions and gestures of the multiple lifeworlds of daily living? What worlds from ecology to technology privilege certain animations? What are the affects and effects of an enhanced phenomenological sensitivity? What senses, feelings, emotions and moods of self-affirmation and responsiveness to others sustain us in our daily lives? And to what extent might the descriptive, invocative, provocative language of phenomenology infuse the human sciences and engender a language for speaking directly of life?”. (shrink)

In this article we present a phenomenological single-case study of a client’s experience of her therapist’s bodily movement in the context of narrative therapy. A client was interviewed regarding her experience of selected bodily movements of the therapist based on a video recording of one of her therapeutic sessions. The movements were analyzed through Maxine Sheets-Johnstone’s cardinal structures of movement while the interview was analyzed through a modification of Giorgi’s method for phenomenological psychology. We focused on the relationship between the (...) therapist’s bodily movement and therapeutic movement in the client and arrived at general structures of the client’s experience of being moved by movement. The experience comprises three core constituents: ‘shifts in sense of self’, ‘sense of togetherness’ and ‘feelings of mobility’, and reveals that the therapist’s bodily movements can lead to therapeutic changes compatible with the aim of narrative therapy. (shrink)

In this article, we analyze how movement takes part in creating intersubjective meaning. We discuss what Daniel Stern termed ‘affect attunement,’ a primary way of constituting intersubjectivity. Based on an analysis of how movement, meaning-making, vitality affects, and primordial feelings interrelate in affect attunement, we show that primordial feelings and thereby movement play a much greater role in affect attunement than Stern proposed. This makes movement a primary meaning-making modality, indispensable to the development of intersubjectivity. To illustrate the relation between (...) movement and affect attunement in psychological development, we discuss the role of movement in autism. Recent research suggests that differences in movement precede the onset of social-communicative deficits and may be primary to autistic development. Building on the proposed interrelation of movement and primordial feelings in affect attunement, we suggest that autistic movement differences illuminate the vital role played by movement in early intersubjective development. (shrink)

This paper will attempt to establish a framework for the term vedanā. Then it will present the range of the different feeling tones: pleasant, unpleasant and neutral. It will point out that ‘neutral’ feeling tone can be defined in different ways as either non-existing, indeterminate, indifference or the beginning of equanimity. Following this, vedanā will be discussed in the context of the five nāma factors: contact, feeling-tone, perception, intention and attention. This paper will suggest that (...) mindfulness can be of benefit because it possibly gives rise to what is referred to in the early Pāli texts as ‘unwordly pleasant’ feeling tones. The paper concludes by making a connection between the practice of mindfulness of feeling-tones and the cultivation of the ethical precepts as an antidote to unskilful reactive patterns that arise in relation to vedana. (shrink)

The term “coenesthesia” was introduced at the end of the eighteenth century by the German physiologist Johann Christian Reil to designate the general perception of the living body through the nerves. Over the course of the nineteenth century, this notion circulated widely not only in Germany, but also in France, where it was developed in particular by Théodule Ribot. However, a good sixty years before Ribot, Maine de Biran had already employed the notion of “coenesthesia” to indicate the “immediate (...) class='Hi'>feeling of existence,” which he distinguished from the apperception of the self in relation to the body. What Biran emphasized, in his philosophical appropriation of “coenesthesia,” is the impersonal and mostly unconscious nature of this feeling, which never leaves us and plays a key role in the shaping of our personal and conscious life, unnoticeably influencing the course of our ideas, our character, and the emotional tone of our perception of the world. The purpose of this article is to study Biran’s philosophical use of the notion of “coenesthesia” in the last phase of his philosophical reflection (1823–1824) in relation to the emergence of the problem of the unconscious. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy of Music Education Review 12.1 (2004) 17-29 [Access article in PDF] Intersections Form, Feeling, and Isomorphism Mary J. Reichling University of Louisiana at Lafayette These three concepts hold meanings that differ among musicians and aestheticians. In this essay I shall explore them in the writings of Susanne Langer. Contemporary musicians and aestheticians continue today to engage Langer albeit some favorably and others with disdain. Whatever their reasons, (...) she remains a dominant force in the philosophy of music.1 My purpose is not to defend her against her detractors, but rather to examine and to elucidate various aspects of these three concepts in her writing, as they are fundamental to an understanding of her aesthetic theory and to the construction of a philosophy of music and music education.First, I consider the broad and complex notion of form and the various ways Langer employs it in her aesthetic theory. Next, the rather all-encompassing idea of feeling as Langer conceives it is studied in relation to the form of the musical work. The intersection of form and feeling in the concept of isomorphism concludes the discussion. [End Page 17] Form In her various writings Langer uses several adjectives associated with the word "form" which seem to organize well into three groups. The first concerns the dynamic, living, organic, and vital qualities of form; the second speaks to its logical and abstract nature; and the last relates to the emotional or feeling aspect of form including expressive and significant characteristics.2 These groupings overlap and intertwine, but focusing on each specifically rather than all as a totality offers important insights.Form as dynamic, living, organic, and vital suggests metaphorical reference. Obviously the form is not physically, biologically, alive; reference is to the apparent movement, growth, and aliveness of the musical form as it is heard or performed. Thus this idea of form implies an actual performance to be realized or perceived. Langer is sometimes criticized for giving little attention to the actual making of music, that is, performance, yet her theory assumes music as heard. Essential to perceiving a dynamic form or hearing a feeling is a processual event, namely, performance or listening to a performance. Rarely a professional musician or gifted amateur might be able to engage this concept of form by reading through a score and hearing the music in imagination.Dynamic form parallels Eduard Hanslick's notion of tonend bewegte Formen. One might object that Hanslick and Langer are in conflict as Hanslick opposes while Langer supports the conviction that form is expressive of feeling, but that is moving beyond the matter at hand and suggests a superficial reading of both Hanslick and Langer. Hanslick asserts emphatically that music's meaning is not the arousal of emotion but does not deny feeling in music; Langer holds the same view. But Hanslick allows that "the words content and form are used not in the purely logical, but in an artistic sense." To me this suggests that he recognizes a nonliteral or metaphorical interpretation. He writes about the relationship of musical tones as "fraught with significance... congruity and opposition, their separating and combining, their soaring and subsiding-this is what comes in spontaneous forms before our inner contemplation and pleases us as beautiful." Certainly this parallels Langer's description of dynamic form.3 What is significant is that both philosophers are addressing the fluid, processual, active, movement-of-notes-through-time nature of musical form.The premise that forms are created by motion, are dynamic, is easily grasped by offering some examples. Fast cameras are able to take a series of photos of the movements of a pianist's hands giving still pictures of the moving forms created while performing a given passage.4 Alternately, forms are created by the movements of clouds or fog through the mist and early light; they are, in effect, quite literally moving forms. Cartoon characters generate moving forms through the [End Page 18] use of many drawings or more recently by means of computer animation. Time is a dynamic or moving form which we divide into hours... (shrink)

The turn to optimism makes figures of progress, consumption, self-making and empowerment appear in various genres of chick-lit. These narratives, however, are often still shaped by a depressive tone that is distinct from one that says that women have more options than happy-ever-after, even while heterosexual romance remains a structuring force. This article takes the Ghanaian web-series An African City as its example to explore this ambivalence. An African City offered its first season in 2014 and was immediately received (...) as ‘Africa’s own Sex and the City’, praised for challenging the image of a backward Africa, while criticised for offering an unrealistic account of life for urban African women. The series is set around the lives of five women, one of whom plays the leading role as narrator. The ‘African city’ serves as another character, rather than a mere backdrop for the action to unfold. I argue that the various characters perform an ongoing ambivalence towards progress, always stuck in a look backward. It is not simply that the quest for romance fails as part of the drama, but that the drama of failure itself folds onto both the African city and African women as figures that remain eternally stuck in their relation to the temporalities that accrue around modernity. (shrink)

This article intends, firstly, to enrich the study of the role that the concept of tone plays in Kantian idea of reason, by extending it to the analysis of music as art of sounds, which the Critique of Judgment fulfills. Secondly, it aims to determine the grounds that could explain why the mathematics, due to the specificity of the philosophical method and the physical reception of music, respectively, are itself incapable to express the procedures of reason and of the (...) art of sounds. Finally, it points out a similarity between reason and music concerning their common rejection of succumbing to the Schwärmerei, although the distance which divides them as two contrary ways to exercise and promote the life and its feeling.O artigo tenciona, primeiramente, enriquecer o estudo da função que o conceito de tom desempenha na ideia kantiana de razão, ao estendê-lo à análise da música como arte dos sons que a Crítica do Juízo contém. Em segundo lugar, propõe-se determinar os motivos pelos quais a matemática se revela incapaz, devido à especificidade do método filosófico e à corporalidade da recepção musical, respectivamente, de expressar o modo de proceder da razão e da arte dos sons. Finalmente, aponta-se para uma semelhança entre música e razão, no que diz respeito à rejeição que compartilham da queda na Schwärmerei, apesar da distância que se estabelece entre ambas enquanto duas maneiras contrárias de exercitar e fomentar a vida e o sentimento dela. (shrink)

The sense of agency is the experience of being the origin of a sensory consequence. This study investigates whether contextual beliefs modulate low-level sensorimotor processes which contribute to the emergence of the sense of agency. We looked at the influence of causal beliefs on ‘intentional binding’, a phenomenon which accompanies self-agency. Participants judged the onset-time of either an action or a sound which followed the action. They were induced to believe that the tone was either triggered by themselves or (...) by somebody else, although, in reality, the sound was always triggered by the participants. We found that intentional binding was stronger when participants believed that they triggered the tone, compared to when they believed that another person triggered the tone. These results suggest that high-level contextual information influences sensorimotor processes responsible for generating intentional binding. (shrink)

In response to cancer, patients may be thrown into precarious processes of remaking their purpose, identity, and connections to the world around them. Thoughtful and thorough responses to these issues can be supported by person-centered phenomenological approaches to caring for patients. The importance of perspectives on illness offered by theoretical phenomenology will become apparent through the example of the experience of nausea, or perhaps more accurately put—chemo sickness. The focus here is on how chemo sickness alters one's way of relating (...) to the world. I will examine the phenomenon of nausea through the lens of the phenomenological concept of mood—an existential feeling that engenders a diffused tone permeating through one's world and shapes the envisioned possibilities on one's horizon. (shrink)

Matthew 18:15–18 proposed a disciplined strategy for dealing with disputes within the Matthean emerging Christian community. The present study was designed to test the theory, proposed by the SIFT approach to biblical hermeneutics, that reader interpretation of this strategy is influenced by the individual readers’ psychological type preferences. Participants attending two conferences in 2017 reflected on this strategy, working in groups that distinguished between feeling types and thinking types: 15 biblical scholars at the Summer School of the Urban Theology (...) Unit, and 22 curates and training incumbents at a 3-day residential programme. Consistent with psychological type theory and with the SIFT approach to biblical hermeneutics, the feeling types found the whole tone of the passage uncomfortable and unsettling. The thinking types identified more readily with the Matthean strategy. These findings add weight to the reader perspective approach to the interpretation of scripture that takes the psychological type profile of the reader into account. (shrink)

Ari Aster’s 2019 folk horror film Midsommar, which enjoyed both critical and popular success, features a bright colour palette and an eerily playful tone alongside a dark narrative exploring complexities of grief, depression, and bad relationships. The remote Swedish community to which protagonist Dani, her boyfriend, and his friends travel for a mid-summer festival is designed around beautiful objects, collective experiences, and rituals that foreground communal emotions, all of which contrast the technologically mediated communications foregrounded at the film’s outset. (...) In fact, this community offers meticulously constructed antidotes to the loneliness of the modern world, and to Western ideals of masculine emotional distance…but at a cost. This paper examines the intersection of emotion, community, and gender in Midsommar, using the concept of affective design – usually associated with technology design – as well as work on group-based emotions, to interrogate the film’s vision of a community that challenges gender norms and the boundaries of emotional experience. Through the depiction of ingroup boundary-policing, stark contrasts between visions of masculinity, and lush visions of aesthetic experience and emotional release, Midsommar offers a series of convincing compensatory mechanisms that invite viewers, along with the main character, to temporarily compromise morality for the sake of belonging. (shrink)

In this paper, I consider how it would be possible to think about the historicity of music through Hegel’s thought. I will compare Hegel’s idea with a historical event that is considered relevant in the history of music: Schoenberg’s twelve-tone music, taken here also as a model of immanent negation and Aufhebung of tonal system in music. Furthermore, I will take Schoenberg’s twelve-tone music as an instance and wonder about the role of music and its history in the (...) sociocultural formation (or, in Hegelian words, in the absolute Geist). I divide the exposition into four parts, namely: (1) the position of art before the absolute Geist; (2) a general exposition of art in the Lectures on the Philosophy of Art, placing music as a singular form of art; (3) an analysis of the characteristics of music in Hegel and (4) the comparison with Schoenberg’s twelve-tone music. I conclude that music, as an artistic form, brings the form of an internal feeling of a social subjectivity – a way to feel and understand sounds that transforms itself through history; in turn, both music and the form of an internal feeling of social subjectivity, have a historicity that can be understood as developed dialectically. Along these lines, the beginning of the Twentieth Century in music reveals, through Schoenberg and other composers, new intuitive configurations of this social subjectivity. (shrink)

Introduction: Neurobiological systems engineering models are useful for treating patients. We show a model of “high opioid tone” autism and present a hypothesis about how autism is caused by administration of opioids during childbirth.Main Symptoms: Clinical diagnosis of autism in a 25 year old man was confirmed by a Social Responsiveness Scale self-rating of 79, severe, and a Social Communications Questionnaire by the patient's father scoring 27. Cold pressor time was 190 seconds—unusually long, consonant with the high pain tolerance (...) of autism.Therapeutic Intervention and Outcomes: At naltrexone 50 mg/day SRS fell to 54 and SCQ-−2–9; both non-significant. CPT fell to 28, repeat 39 s. Improved relatedness was experienced ambivalently, understood as feelings never before experienced—causing pain. Non-compliance with naltrexone was followed by cutting open his palm and drinking alcoholically. Transference focused psychotherapy has helped him remain naltrexone—compliant while he works on issues of identity and relatedness.Conclusion: The model suggests studies that could be conducted to both prevent and treat this form of autism. (shrink)

The language of Greek Tragedy can be considered as a whole by virtue of the characteristics which distinguish it from that of other branches of Greek literature, and the resemblance between the three tragedians in this respect is more noticeable than the differences. Still, if we compare Aeschylus and Euripides it is impossible not to feel a marked change of tone, in λ⋯ξις as in δι⋯νοια and ἤθη. As in E. the familiar legends are frequently set in a more (...) everyday atmosphere and the characters cast in a less heroic mould, it is natural that the tone of the language should be lowered, partly by the frequent use of distinctively prosaic expressions and partly by the introduction of what appear to be colloquialisms. This change of tone in language was at once noted by Aristophanes and is referred to by Aristotle as an innovation of E. On the other hand E.'s style presents a certain anomaly, since while deliberately securing a closer approximation to the language of prose and ordinary conversation he also shows a poetic and archaizing tendency in the use of Aeschylean and Homeric words and forms not found in Sophocles. This may be due to a reluctance to depart too far from the poetic tradition of Greek tragedy, and possibly to a scholar's interest in the language of Aeschylus and Homer, in a minor degree a foreshadowing of the learned archaism of the Alexandrian poets. (shrink)

In an era of ever-increasing dependence upon technology, physicians are losing the basic skills of patient examination and taking the medical history. This book describes the scenario in which the physician sits down with a patient to elicit a medical history. For example, how to greet a patient, how to discover the patient's chief concern, how to elicit symptoms, how to manage feelings as the patient and physician interact, and how to choose topics to explore, and use the appropriate word (...) selection, phrasing, and tone of voice. A good history leads to trust and rapport, and also to the determination of the best management of the patient's condition. Dr. William DeMeyer, a well-known physician and author of the major text on the neurologic exam, describes how to take a medical history, and also explains the reasons why it is done in a particular way. The author reviews the actual questions that a health provider should ask and the responses to a patient's answers. More importantly, the author describes how to listen to the patient's real needs as a person, rather than just a repository of symptoms. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Literary Common GroundLee Rust BrownLet me make note of a few things that have occurred to me during this conference. Some of these will be observations; some will be practical inferences. One of them, though, involves the crossing of an expectation, or maybe a fear, I had brought with me to Minneapolis. Since this has to do with the whole tone of the conference, we might as (...) well begin with it.It, of course, was the question of the polemical nature of this gathering. Would this conference be diagnostic and denunciatory in nature, or would it seek to start something truly new? Certainly we all feel the need of something new—not new, either, in the sense that movements or ideological positions claim to be new, but in the sense of a fresh gathering of common attention in the place where literature is, the place where each of us who loves literature already goes alone. This would be a possibility for something original rather than just another novelty—which makes the question of polemics all the more urgent. An association that founded itself in complaint would be only one more identity-group making a virtue out of its grudge. And the grudge, in that case, would have been a sad reflex of feeling superseded and powerless.But where have the polemics against current orthodoxies been? I am delighted not to have heard them in any strenuous capacity. Even their relative absence hasn’t commanded any extended attention, and that may be an even more telling point. I take this to be partly the result of foresight and good sense. But the clean air here has been more than a reward for our mutual constraint. Instead, it seems evidence of the fact [End Page 193] that, when literature occupies our attention, there is no need for self-defense. Justice, or justification, happens by itself when we “do our own work,” as Socrates recommended.What is our own work, then? This association has made a point, it seems, of declining to prescribe what it should be. The only thing we are absolutely sure of is that its subject is literature, and that its standards and rewards should be of a literary nature. From there the field opens up—and this conference has succeeded in keeping it open in some very concrete ways.Let’s think briefly about the two panels we attended yesterday. The morning panel on “Intellectual Craftsmanship” seemed unified in its concern with the disciplined ways by which we commit ourselves to literary experience. Literature itself, as well as what we do with it, teaches us this discipline, which is “aesthetic” in every sense of that word. Roger Shattuck set the tone when he described the discipline of reading as an issue of preparation and assimilation on the one hand, and as a kind of complete perceptual openness on the other. Such openness, in our normal experience, allows us to be surprised, to see actual things, perhaps, instead of their institutional categories. But literature also requires that we craft our receptivity. The surprises we prepare ourselves to undergo are achieved breakthroughs, which makes them no less unpredictable but all the more deeply affecting.Criticism cultivates such surprising experience. (I think experience is the crucial word, by the way, since everyone on that first panel seemed to be devoted to a kind of free empiricism.) The spectacular moments of visionary power that Robert Alter isolated in Dickens are places that startle and disturb us—and we track our own surprise, and intensify it, when we look closely at how those dark places of power emerge from Dickens’s refiguring of a world where darkness otherwise tends toward an entirely unredeemable opacity. We have to read “synesthetically,” as Shattuck says, “with both eyes open,” to let ourselves be for a moment blinded by such literary places.Once again, the discipline of reading—devotedly and resistantly—frees us for the achieved experience. Slowing down, in Sven Birkerts’s sense of “retardation and deceleration,” is precisely a matter of stepping into a field of experience shaped (or, in an auditory sense, fostered and conserved) by the special demands of literature. It... (shrink)

There is widespread agreement among large segments of western society that we are living in a period of hard times. At first glance such a belief might seem exceedingly odd. After all, persons in western society find themselves living in a time of unprecedented material abundance. Hunger and disease, evils all too familiar to the members of earlier generations, although far from eradicated from modern life, are plainly on the wane. Persons alive today can look forward to healthier, longer, and (...) more comfortable lives than those of their grand parents. Nevertheless, the feeling that life today is especially difficult is rampant in government, in the media, in popular books, and in academic circles. Western society is perceived in many quarters as wracked by crises of all sorts-of faith, of power, of authority, of social turmoil, of declining quality in workmanship and products, and of a general intellectual malaise afflicting both those on the Left and the Right. A tone of crisis permeates the language of public life. Editorials in major newspapers are full of dire warnings about the dangers of unbridled egoism, avarice and greed, and the risks and horrors of pollution, overpopulation, the arms race, crime, and indulgent lifestyles. (shrink)

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

This essay treats the growth and development of Charles S. Peirce’s three categories, particularly studying the qualities of Peirce’s Firstness, a basic formula of “airy-nothingness” serving as fragment to Secondness and Thirdness. The categories of feeling, willing, and knowing are not separate entities but work in interaction within the three interpretants. Interpretants are triadomaniac elements through the adopted, revised, or changed habits of belief. In works of art, the first glance of Firstness arouses the spontaneous responses of musement, expressing (...) emotions without the struggle and resistance of factual Secondness, and not yet involving logical Thirdness. The essential qualities of a loose or vague word, color, or sound give the fugitive meanings in Firstness. The flavor, brush, timbre, color, point, line, tone or touch of the First qualities of an aesthetic object is too small a base to build the logic of aesthetic judgment. The genesis art is explained by Peirce’s undegeneracy growing into group and individual interpretants and building into the passages and whole forms of double and single forms of degeneracy. The survey of the flash of Firstness is exemplified in a variety of artworks in language, music, sculpture, painting, and film. This analysis is a preliminary aid to further studies of primary Firstness in the arts. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:1-800-Quit-NowCatalina MeyerAs a healthcare interpreter, you are a communication tool, but more importantly, you are a bridge over a cultural barrier. Yes, we must repeat exactly what the provider says, and we must strive to convey the message—not so much the words but the meaning. To do this well, interpreters must be aware of cultural differences and advocate when something culturally interferes with understanding the message's meaning. Failing to (...) do so can drastically change the outcome of a patient's treatment. We can say that it is the interpreter's job to make sure that everyone is understood linguistically and culturally and to help in one of the most important aspects of human relations: communication.The following is an actual interaction that occurred between a provider, a patient in the Smoking Cessation Counseling Program, and me (a trained interpreter).Interpreter: "Good morning. I am going to be your Spanish interpreter today."Provider: "How is the chemotherapy going? Are you feeling better today? And please tell me, are you feeling less anxious now?"As the patient uttered his first words, I realized this would be a challenging encounter. The cancer in his throat had also affected his vocal cords. In a matter of seconds, I thought how difficult it would be to lose your voice suddenly. I could not understand his speech, but I had to try. I wanted to help him, and I wanted him to feel hope.Interpreter: In a gentle tone of voice: "Sir, would you please repeat that?" Then I added, "Wait a minute, Provider," and raised my hand to practice transparency and indicate that I was speaking as the interpreter. "The interpreter must ask for repetition."Provider to Patient: "Let us try to modulate. Try to speak slowly."At this point, the patient started to cry.Provider and interpreter: "It is okay, Sir, take your time. We are here for you."Provider to interpreter: "We struggled when using VRI (Video Remote Interpreters) for him in the past, so I requested a face-to-face interpreter for today."Provider: "I see you have missed appointments in the last six months. I was just wondering, is everything okay?"Patient: "It is because I have no car!" He cried and yelled.Interpreter: Shushing. "Sir, let's do this: You talk, I'll repeat what you say, and you can please nod if I'm correct, okay?"Interpreter: "Provider, I am asking for repetition. The interpreter needs to clarify."The patient responded with whimpering, gestures of pain and frustration, long pauses of silence, and putting his hands to his face to cover his crying.The provider gave him some time. She tried to redirect his emotions: "Sir, have you called the 1–800 number we gave you? Have you received all your supplies to help you quit smoking yet? How is that going for you?"The patient, now expressing anger on his face, says, "I called many times. Translator, tell her! Many times, I called, but they do not speak Spanish! They keep hanging up on me." He begins to cry again.Provider to Interpreter: "Interpreter, I am confused. We give the same number to all our patients [End Page E12] in the After Visit Summary and it works just fine! Could you repeat that? Did he say he called, and they hung up the phone on him? Could you please clarify?"Patient raising his voice: "I did! Translator, please tell her I did! They do not speak Spanish!"The patient continued to cover his mouth with his hand while he spoke and cried, which made it difficult to understand his voice and the movement of his lips, which, in this difficult case were a helpful aid—making it easier for the interpreter to comprehend the patient's words.Provider: "Let me double-check the 1–800 number so you can order your supplies."The patient's frustration grew. "Here! This is the number! Are we done? I am in pain; I want to go home now."Provider: "One moment, please, I'll call for you." The provider dialed 1–800-QUIT-NOW.Provider: "Well, they say for Spanish press 2. I cannot... (shrink)

In what is probably the most arresting of all the textual developments of the Saturnalian dialogues, the reader’s emotional identification with the voice of rage and thwarted rebellion is ever more thoroughly compelled by the structure and tone of succeeding works, at the same time that the dangers of that role, both for its bearer and for others, are ever more explicitly argued. Readers of Le Neveau de Rameau are not forced by the inner logic of the text to (...) choose between Moi and Lui, and they can find in each a welcome counterbalance to and relief from the demands of the other. But in Notes from Underground the “gentlemen-readers” have nothing left to offer us, and the novel makes it impossible to feel anything less than the same contempt for their platitudes that the Underground Man himself flaunts. The clearest index of the development I am tracing is the formal shift from Diderot’s dialogue proper to Dostoyevski’s first-person novel, but this mutation is itself already a consequence of a more indirect and disturbing cause. Dostoyevski, in the famous cry of The Possessed, was certain that “‘the fire is in the minds of men and not in the roofs of houses’”;9 he believed that only the prior corruption of Russia’s intelligentsia, their eager surrender to the lure of conspiracy and violence, could have led so many of them to the acts of senseless catastrophe, fueled by ressentiment, false pride, and incoherent utopian fantasies, marks all of his most important post-Siberia political and cultural writings.10 9. Dostoyevski, The Possessed, trans. Garnett , p. 533.10. In The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoyevski explicitly states that the future revolution will be made by the Smerdyakovs. In the chapter “Over the Brandy,” for example, Ivan tells his father that Smerdyakov is “a prime candidate” to initiate a revolutionary uprising . Michael André Bernstein is professor of English and comparative literature at the University of California, Berkeley. He is the author of The Tale of the Tribe: Ezra Pound and the Modern Verse Epic and a book of poetry. His most recent contribution to Critical Inquiry is “‘O Totiens Servus’: Saturnalia and Servitude in Augustan Rome”. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Not by Nature but by Grace: Forming Families through Adoption by Gilbert C. MeilaenderThomas O'BrienNot by Nature but by Grace: Forming Families through Adoption Gilbert C. Meilaender notre dame, in: university of notre dame press, 2016. 136 pp. $25.00I was adopted as an infant through a Catholic Charities office in 1961, and just three years ago, thanks to an online DNA analysis service, I met both of my (...) biological parents, with whom I have an ongoing, loving relationship. So my keen interest in this book and its topic is more than just theological [End Page 209] curiosity. It includes personal and emotional dimensions, as I'm sure it will for many readers.This book is an attempt to understand modern adoptive practices from a primarily Christian/Catholic perspective, with helpful allusions to the beliefs and practices of the other Abrahamic faiths. Overall, I believe the book succeeds in presenting a solid theological foundation for adoption in general and, more specifically, for its current mainstream manifestation in the developed world. The author doesn't shy away from the various controversies related to adoption—like assisted reproduction, LGBTQ adoption, embryo adoption—and he takes on other authors who make claims about adoption that he believes distract or obscure the central purpose of adoption, which is to provide a child a "needed place of belonging" within the network of loving relationships that is the ideal of the family (38).My reservations about the book are two. The first has to do with the inconsistent tone of the book, which tends to swing, abruptly at times, from a theological and analytical tone to one that feels more popular and homiletic—even to the point of being maudlin. As stated earlier, I have high regard for most of the analytical sections and find the overarching thesis convincing. Generally, in these sections, the method begins with the lived experience of adoptees and their parents and works through scripture, tradition, and critical reflection to arrive at a reasonable conclusion. However, occasionally the book drifts into uncritical and merely emotive territory, and this is especially the case in the sections called "interludes," where the author presents letters to adoptees from their parents reprinted from the Christian Century magazine. These seem out of place and even distracting. Of even greater concern is the concluding chapter, where the author should be summarizing and highlighting the strengths of his thesis. Instead he chose to draw homiletic lessons from Anne of Green Gables (110).My second reservation is not so much a critique of this book but of the state of contemporary Catholic sexual ethics, which forms a backdrop for the entire book. The book accurately reflects a mainstream position in Catholic sexual ethics, which abandoned a narrow focus on procreation decades ago in favor of one highlighting the unitive and relational aspects of human intimacy. This move away from a strictly deontological framework stressing the duty to procreate and toward a teleological ethic stressing the need to model human relationships after divine ones has been celebrated for good reasons, but it has not come without costs. Like all teleological ideals, this sexual ethic is attractive to purveyors of high philosophy but tends to be thoroughly abstract and almost entirely incapable of offering concrete, practical guidance. Because it is so abstract, its application to specific moral issues can seem arbitrary and at the whim of the author. Such is the case in this book, for instance, when this teleological ideal is wielded to shed doubt on LGBTQ adoption. It is particularly telling [End Page 210] that the author neglects to consult lived experience in this section, ignoring the mountains of evidence readily available that LGBTQ families can be just as loving and nurturing as those of traditional families. Ultimately, a second Renaissance would benefit Catholic sexual ethics—one that balances deontological and teleological elements by introducing practical, consequential, and proportional methods.Thomas O'BrienDePaul UniversityCopyright © 2018 Society of Christian Ethics... (shrink)

Nevertheless, Marx's essay ["On the Jewish Question"] has a profound bearing upon The Jew of Malta; their conjunction enriches our understanding of the authors; relation to ideology and, more generally, raises fruitful questions about a Marxist reading of literature. The fact that both works use the figure of the perfidious Jew provides a powerful link between Renaissance and modern thought, for despite the great differences to which I have just pointed, this shared reference is not an accident or a mirage. (...) "On the Jewish Question" represents the nineteenth-century development of a late sixteenth-century idea or, more accurately, a late sixteenth-century trope. Marlowe and Marx seize upon the Jew as a kind of powerful rhetorical device, a way of marshalling deep popular hatred and clarifying its object. The Jew is charged not with racial deviance or religious impiety but with economic and social crime, crime that is committed not only against the dominant Christian society but, in less "pure" form, by that society. Both writers hope to focus attention upon activity that is seen as at once alien and yet central to the life of the community and to direct against that activity the anti-Semitic feeling of the audience. The Jews themselves in their real historical situation are finally incidental in these works, Marx's as well as Marlowe's, except insofar as they excite the fear and loathing of the great mass of Christians. It is this privileged access to mass psychology by means of a semimythical figure linked in the popular imagination with usury, sharp dealing, and ruthless cunning that attracts both the sixteenth-century playwright and the nineteenth-century polemicist.1 · 1. Anti-Semitism, it should be emphasized, is never merely a trope to be adopted or discarded by an author as he might choose to employ zeugma or eschew personification. It is charged from the start with irrationality and bad faith and only partly rationalized as a rhetorical strategy. Marlowe depicts his Jew with the compulsive cruelty that characterizes virtually all his work, while Marx's essay obviously has elements of a sharp, even hysterical, denial of his religious background. It is particularly tempting to reduce the latter work to a dark chapter in its author's personal history. The links I am attempting to establish with Marlowe or the more direct link with Feuerbach, however, locate the essay in a far wider context. Still, the extreme violence of the latter half of Marx's work and his utter separation of himself from the people he excoriates undoubtedly owe much to his personal situation. It is interesting that the tone of the attack on the Jews rises to an almost ecstatic disgust at the moment when Marx seems to be locating the Jews most clearly as a product of bourgeois culture; it is as if Marx were eager to prove that he is in no way excusing or forgiving the Jews. Stephen J. Greenblatt is the Class of 1932 Professor of English Literature at the University of California at Berkeley. He is the author of Sir Walter Raleigh: The Renaissance Man and His Roles, Renaissance Self-Fashioning: From More to Shakespeare, Marvelous Possessions: The Wonder of the New World, and the editor of a collection of essays, New World Encounters. (shrink)

I am troubled by the temper of E. H. Gombrich’s response, “Representation and Misrepresentation” , to my “Ambiguities of Representation and Illusion: An E. H. Gombrich Retrospective” and by his preferring not to sense the profound admiration—indeed, the homage—intended by my essay, both for his contributions to recent theory and for their influence upon its recent developments. But I am more troubled by the confusions his remarks may cause in the interpretation of his own work as well as in the (...) judgment of mine. There are important issues at stake, I feel, especially as regards the relation between scientific and aesthetic inquiry.The very irritated tone of his reaction helps make what I see as my major point: his work has contained a conflict between two Gombrichs—one, the skeptical humanist and, the other, the positive scientist—and with the passing years the second has increasingly sought to obliterate signs of the first, becoming increasingly impatient with any attempt to revive those signs or remind us of their existence. On the other side, since the line of literary criticism with which I associate myself has drawn strength from the first Gombrich, this development in his work and in his attitudes has caused some disappointment. Murray Krieger is University Professor of English at the University of California. He is the author of many works, including The Tragic Vision, The Classic Vision, Theory of Criticism: A Tradition and its System, Poetic Presence and Illusion: Essays in Critical History and Theory, and Arts on the Level. His previous contributions to Critical Inquiry are “Fiction, History, and Empirical Reality” , “Poetic Presence and Illusion: Renaissance Theory and the Duplicity of Metaphor” , and “The Ambiguities of Representation and Illusion: An E. H. Gombrich Retrospective”. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:What Do You Mean, Rhetoric Is Epistemic?William D. HarpineIn 1967, Robert L. Scott (1967) advocated that "rhetoric is epistemic." This concept has enriched the work of rhetorical theorists and critics. Scott's essay is founded in a concept of argumentative justification in rhetoric, viewed as an alternative to analytic logic. Other writers, including Brummett (1976), Railsback (1983), and Cherwitz and Hikins (1986), have offered variations on Scott's theme. The thesis (...) that rhetoric is epistemic has been controversial, however, and from the tone of the debate one may draw two conclusions: many rhetorical theorists feel that Scott was on to something important, and the thesis as it has been developed is flawed. Much of the dispute centers on what the thesis means. These discussions have not yet adequately clarified that issue.The philosopher's most fundamental obligation is to define terms with care. It is in precisely this respect that the rhetoric-is-epistemic theorists have fallen short. Some of the key terms in this literature include rhetoric, knowledge, certainty, and truth. In too many cases, the writers on rhetorical epistemology have not defined their key terms at all. In other cases, their definitions are inadequate or inconsistent. This essay undertakes to sort out the most important definitional problems, which center on the rhetoric-is-epistemic theorists' habit of equivocating about the meanings of "rhetoric" and "certainty." The result makes it possible to endorse the validity of Scott's essentially ethical conclusions, while dismissing a number of unnecessary complexities in the arguments made by rhetoric-as-epistemic theorists. Finally, a few alternatives that might lead to more robust foundations for the rhetoric-as-epistemic thesis are suggested.In 1978, after reviewing four distinct interpretations of the claim that rhetoric is epistemic, Leff concluded that clarification of what that claim means "deserves more disciplined treatment than it has received in the recent literature" (1978, 77). The same could still be said. After some [End Page 335] thirty years of active research and speculation on the topic, one now sees fewer publications specifically advocating that rhetoric is epistemic. The distinguished rhetorical theorist Barry Brummett (1990) has declared the thesis deceased (69-72).All the same, textbook authors treat the thesis as a given, despite their tendency to interpret it in wildly different ways. Foss, for example, puts forward a view that "in the field of communication, the idea that rhetoric creates reality is known as the notion that rhetoric is epistemic, which simply means that rhetoric creates knowledge; epistemology is the study of the origin and nature of knowledge" (1989, 122; emphasis in the original). This version of the thesis, claiming that rhetoric actually "creates reality," might be more ontological than it is epistemic.1 Herrick takes a dialectical view that "through rhetorical interaction, people come to accept some ideas as true and to reject others as false. Thus, rhetoric's epistemic function in society can be seen in some ways to be a result of its benefit of testing ideas." Herrick continues that "once an idea has been tested thoroughly by a group, community, and society, it becomes part of what these groups take to be knowledge." Herrick contrasts this with the rejected view that "knowledge is all objective in nature and comes to us by way of direct experience or education" (1997, 22). Both Herrick and Foss offer interesting theses, and both attribute their views to Scott, but their views are obviously very different. There can be no surer evidence of the failure to use terms precisely.Brummett (1990) attributes the demise of rhetoric-is-epistemic research to the failure of critics to employ the idea in rhetorical criticism. Brummett might be right to the extent that much of the rhetoric-is-epistemic literature is indeed exceptionally abstract. Specific discussions might clarify some issues. Nonetheless, some notable rhetorical critics have indeed employed a concept that rhetoric is epistemic (e.g., Scott and Klumpp 1984; Sullivan 1992). The issues remain unclear. Furthermore, rhetorical criticism per se cannot clarify the meanings of theoretical terms. More likely, one sees less and less published research about the thesis that rhetoric is epistemic precisely because the thesis has not been laid out clearly... (shrink)

After hearing Donald Trump's acceptance speech at the Republican National Convention held in Cleveland, Ohio, Newt Gingrich was interviewed live on CNN about the menacing tone of the address. Gingrich not only defended Trump's nearly apocalyptic vision of America if he was not elected, the former Speaker of the House swiped aside the clear data that indicated that the criminalized landscapes portrayed in Trump's speech might just be the work of a frenzied and fearful imagination rather than based in (...) fact. "'People feel more threatened,'" Gingrich insisted. "'As a political candidate, I'll go with what people feel '". Commenting in Forbes shortly thereafter, Ethan Siegel, a scientist and science... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Why Is the Gorgias so Bitter?1Alessandra FussiMihi in oratoribus irridendis ipse esse orator summus videbatur.-Cicero, De Oratore 1.471. The hand of an apprentice?Commentators have often responded with uneasiness to Plato's Gorgias. E. R. Dodds speaks of the "disillusioned bitterness" of the criticisms leveled against Athenian politics and politicians and of the tragic tone of the dialogue's last part, which culminates in a prediction of Socrates' condemnation (1959, 19). (...) F. M. Cornford observes that the discussion between Socrates and Callicles "is marked by a bitterness of tone rarely found elsewhere in the dialogues" (1945, 21). A. E. Taylor is more explicitly irritated: "Personally-he writes-I cannot help feeling that, with all its moral splendor, the dialogue is too long: it 'drags.' The Plato of the Protagoras or Republic, as I feel, would have known how to secure the same effect with less expenditure of words; there is a diffuseness about our dialogue which betrays the hand of a prentice, though the prentice in this case is Plato" (1960, 103). Many readers of the Gorgias have a similar emotional response, yet the feeling that this is a bitter dialogue is never analyzed, accounted for, or adequately justified.While assessing various hypotheses on the date of composition of the Gorgias, Dodds speculates that its "disillusioned bitterness" may suggest that Plato wrote the dialogue right after Socrates' death and under the impact of the event. The Gorgias is so bitter, the reasoning goes, because Plato was enraged with the Athenians when he wrote it. Dodds goes on to discard the hypothesis of such an early date of composition, but he does not revise his view that this is indeed a bitter dialogue. Why, then, does the [End Page 39] Gorgias sound so bitter? Instead of relying on external factors, I suggest it would be more profitable to turn to the dialogue itself for an answer. After all, the impression of bitterness is a function of the emotional impact that the dialogue has on its readers. A well-constructed chain of arguments can hardly sound bitter. The Gorgias contains many arguments, but its emotional impact must lie elsewhere. So where?In the dialogue, Socrates is involved in three discussions of increasing length and complexity with interlocutors who, in one way or another, defend the power of rhetoric and the superiority of political life over philosophical life. The discussions cannot, however, be characterized as mere exercises in abstract reasoning, or urbane conversations on different views of the good life; the Gorgias is a "fighting dialogue," as indicates its opening sally, "to war and battle" (447a1).2 As the saying goes, these are fighting words, since Callicles is basically accusing Socrates of being a coward.Even if we abstract from the themes evoked in the Gorgias, it is difficult to ignore the peculiarity of its dramatic movement. First, we are plunged in medias res, with no clear indication as to the time and place of the dialogue's unfolding. We then proceed through a tour de force of conversations that begin, are immediately interrupted, start again, and continue through refutations, repeated interruptions, fits of anger, and bad temper. If we expected Socrates to win against his nonphilosophical interlocutors, we are sorely disappointed. The further the conversations proceed, the more they are infiltrated by anger and misunderstanding, and the more we come to feel that, though Socrates' interlocutors may well be silenced, they will remain unpersuaded. Indeed, toward the end of the dialogue, Callicles simply refuses to respond to Socrates, who is finally reduced to performing a monologue. The dialogue ends with a myth addressed to Callicles in the stated conviction that the young man will dismiss it as an old wives' tale (527a5-b3). The invocation of Callicles' name, which concludes the dialogue, is significantly and poignantly left hanging.Besides the points just mentioned, I think that several aspects of the dramatic setting contribute significantly to the dialogue's peculiar emotional impact on its readers. I will try to show this, first, by considering eight dramatic devices Plato uses in the Gorgias and, second, by contrasting these devices with their counterparts in the Protagoras. The two dialogues... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Wittgenstein’s PrefaceBrett BourbonIn his preface to Philosophical Investigations, Wittgenstein admits his failure to make his book anything more than an interrelated collection of remarks: "After several unsuccessful attempts to weld my results together into... a whole, I realized that I should never succeed. The best I could write would never be more than philosophical remarks." The fragmented character of Investigations is matched by its other formal oddities and difficulties: (...) its metaphors, its cryptic evocative obscurity about some things and its linguistic precision about others, its dramatization of philosophical positions in stories, in hypothetical worlds, and in the role of the interlocutor(s). Our initial and continual problem in reading Investigations is to understand the reason for its form, and to justify this form relative to its philosophical concerns and methods. I will argue that the justification of the form of Investigations comes down to a single question: how do we take up Wittgenstein's example—in thinking and in confusion—without mimicking him?IThe justification pursued in the preface bears affinities with theological justification, defined as our becoming righteous relative to God, as Calvin characterizes it, "an acceptation, whereby God receiving us into [End Page 428] favour, taketh us for righteous" (Institutes III. xi. §2).1 Righteousness as a mark of acceptation, the very tone of "righteousness" and God's power of acceptation, have no direct counterparts in Wittgenstein's philosophy. Philosophical justification does not have a doctrinal foundation that would establish any particular content nor any special relation between the pursuit of that justification (through philosophy) and its fulfillment, even hypothetically, in some possible acknowledgment of righteousness. The seriousness betrayed by Investigations need for justification, however, is expressed in the moral fervor of Wittgenstein's philosophizing. It is also his philosophical goal to encourage a kind of acceptation that the ground of our involvement in the world, in what constrains and confuses us, is no more than how we live and what we are: "Instead of the unanalyzsable, specific, indefinable; the fact that we act in such-and-such ways, e.g. punish certain actions, establish the state of affairs thus and so, give orders, render accounts, describe colours, take an interest in other's feelings. What has to be accepted, the given—it might be said—are facts of living" (Remarks on the Philosophy of Psychology, §630; c.f. PI, p. 226d).2 The translators comment in a footnote that a variant for "facts of living" in Wittgenstein's manuscript is "forms of life." What has to be accepted are forms of life.The form of Investigations is justified as part of a discovery, with or without a supporting theology, of how to move ourselves toward some greater form of perfection (although not to reach it). The Protestant cast of this justification, in Wittgenstein's case, is just (and I wouldn't want to extend it further) that while this justification is achieved by virtue of our effort, it is not effort towards the world, but towards our intransigent will, and that the grace that might enable our work is less a gift, than a condition within which we can struggle.3 Thus, "what has to be overcome," in philosophy, "is not the difficulty of the understanding but of the will" (CV, p.17).4 Philosophy for Wittgenstein is a form of self-education. One works on the will in order to see differently: but the will is neither a thing nor a faculty. Working on the will is not a psychological project of self-reform, but a reconstitution of our attitude toward what we take as necessary. We can describe such attitudes with the vocabulary of the passions by which express or curb our will: devotion, derision, hope, fear, confidence, indignation, pride, repentance, emulation, gratitude, consternation, daring, timidity, and so on. And thus "philosophy is a work on the will" is kind of maxim to help us remember a kind of attitude, purpose, and justification.I will derive an agnostic notion of justification from its Protestant [End Page 429] theological form, retaining its moral force and claim on our person, but without psychologizing it, with minimal doctrinal content, and without God. This is... (shrink)

This article considers the effectiveness of queer environmental ethics in the Anthropocene, a word increasingly used to describe the anthropogenic destruction of ecosystems that marks our current geological era. Taking as my subject the contemporary ecosexuality movement popularised by performance artists Annie Sprinkle and her co-collaborator and partner Elizabeth Stephens, I explore the ethics behind ecosexuals’ encounters with the natural environment. Stephens and Sprinkle's performances, captured in their documentary Goodbye Gauley Mountain: An Ecosexual Love Story (2013), make clear ecosexuality's concurrent (...) urgency and playfulness, which is embodied in a theatrical environmental sensibility that I call eco-camp. Eco-camp is a mode of florid performance, spectacle and ostentatious sex-positivity that champions new forms of relationality between humans and other earthly inhabitants. Drawing from diverse theoretical perspectives, including Mikhail Bakhtin's (1968) carnivalesque, Chris Cuomo's (1998) ethics of flourishing and Cynthia Willett's (Willett et al., 2012; Willett, 2014) theorisation of feminist humour, I argue that ecosexuality's campy ecological ethics provide an alternative to the didacticism and moralism that characterise much contemporary environmentalism. In the spirit of carnival, the tragi-comic and, at times, parodic tone of ecosexuality generates an affective dissonance that spurs us to feel the full effects of our discordance with nature. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Somaesthetics and Racism:Toward an Embodied Pedagogy of DifferenceDavid A. Granger (bio)IntroductionThe philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein once remarked that "The human body is the best picture of the human soul."1 There is a basic truth in this assertion that we recognize (I want to say) intuitively: the notion that human beings are parts both mental and physical, that these facets are ultimately interdependent, and that they are in some measure correlated (...) was a commonplace in the intellectual culture of ancient Athens, especially among Socratic thinkers. It can also be found as a central part of the basic ontology and ideals of self-cultivation espoused in much East Asian philosophy. In the West, however, this deep appreciation for the relationship between mind and body appears somewhat sporadically after the Socratics, only to be fervently reasserted as a main plank in the lived philosophy of the early American pragmatists, as when Henry David Thoreau proclaimed that "We are all sculptors and painters, and our material is our own flesh and blood and bones. Any nobleness begins to refine a mean's features, any meanness or sensuality to imbrute them."2I use the word "sporadically" above because it is likewise a basic truism that canonical Western philosophy has a long and storied history of rejecting, ignoring, or degrading the human body—that most formative part of our being and connection to the world and to others. The position of the later, more metaphysical Plato is iconic in this regard, and it effectively set the tone for much Christian theology and the Cartesian philosophy of consciousness. For Plato and his adherents, the longing to escape our embodiedness, conceived as a necessary means to human (or perhaps superhuman) perfection [End Page 69] by achieving a godlike existence, requires effectively divorcing ourselves from the irrational brutes of terra firma. The body is conceived as a static constraint to human flourishing rather than a dynamic enabler. It is more or less an adversary, something that we must endeavor to be freed from or subdue.3 Its base senses and unruly passions deceive us epistemologically, while its inexorable power to situate us in space and time limits our objectivity. In its inevitable pains and infirmities, the body is also a constant reminder of the aging process and of our ultimate mortality. Deeming the body as at best a mere servant of the mind, philosophers typically have portrayed it as a veritable prison of deception, temptation, and suffering. Moreover, it is well-established that such thinking has been particularly pernicious in light of the historical identification of women and other marginalized groups with their variously enfeebled, depraved, or uncivilized bodies.4Against this disquieting backdrop, it is only relatively recently that the human body, and the significance of our existence as embodied beings, has received sustained positive attention by leading lights in Western philosophy and criticism. These luminaries include, among others, "feminist" thinkers like Simone de Beauvoir, Julia Kristeva, Luce Irigaray and, of late, Susan Bordo and Judith Butler (with a nod to Michel Foucault, Pierre Bordeau, and others); pragmatists William James and John Dewey (with a nod to Emerson and Thoreau); phenomenologist Maurice Merleau-Ponty (with a nod to Jean-Paul Sartre); analytic philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein (with a nod to James); and postmodernist Michel Foucault (with a nod to Friedrich Nietzsche, George Bataille, and the ancient Asian ars erotica tradition5). While these thinkers do not universally praise the body and its active, conscious cultivation for human flourishing (about which more later), they nonetheless acknowledge its necessity for all perception, action, and even thought.6 In short, they all seek to recognize and elucidate the significance—cognitive and affective, discursive and nondiscursive—of our full embodied intelligence.Looking specifically at the architectonics of the body espoused by the trio of Dewey, Foucault, and Wittgenstein, this article uses what philosopher Richard Shusterman terms "analytic somaesthetics" to examine some of the primary embodied dimensions of feeling, perception, action, and thought, particularly through the functioning of habit.7 In doing so, it seeks to expose the way various ideologies of domination (for example, racism, sexism, classism, ableism, heterosexism, ageism, etc.) are covertly (and at times overtly) materialized... (shrink)

EDITORIAL NOTE.—Arnold Hauser died in February 1978 shortly after returning to his native Hungary; he had lived nearly half of his 85 years in a kind of self-imposed exile. He is considered, by those who know his work, to be perhaps the greatest sociologist of art, though his last years were spent in comparative neglect and obscurity. We present here as a testament to the importance of both the critic and the discipline he helped shape a section from the translation (...) of his Sociology of Art . Hauser's work draws on the influences of his teachers, Simmel, Bergson, Lukács, Mannheim, Sombart, and Troeltsch. He developed in his immense Social History of Art the groundwork for a sociological analysis of art ranging from prehistoric cave painting to film. In his later works—The Philosophy of Art History , Mannerism: The Crisis of the Renaissance and the Origins of Modern Art , and The Sociology of Art—he continued to redefine his brilliant defense of art for society's sake. The theory of l'art pour l'art wants nothing to do with this contradiction and denies not only the moral and social usefulness of art but its every possible practical function as well. "Nobody would write poetry," says Eugenio Montale, "if the problem of literature consisted in making oneself understood." It has been doubted whether the capacity of making oneself understood, the unambiguous communication of feelings and experiences, even lies within the power of art. What Eduardo Hanslick asserts about music in Von musikalischen Schönen, namely, that its relation to everything which is nonmusical, everything which has emotional content, is vague and noncommittal, is to some extent true for all arts. Just as music expresses something which cannot be translated into any other form, so literature expresses something which is eminently literary, linguistic, something locked into words and syntactic structures. In the same way the untranslatable content of a painting, a pictorial idea, a vision, can only be seized and held onto in optical forms. The composer thinks in tones, the painter in lines and colors, the poet in words, tropes, and rhythms. Indubitable as this is, it is not the whole truth; side by side with the content which can only be expressed adequately in a particular form, there is an intrinsic value which can be translated into any form. Kenneth Northcott, translator of this essay, is professor of older German literature and of comparative literature at the University of Chicago. He is currently engaged in the translation of The Sociology of Art and in the study of late medieval satire in Germany and the works of Harold Pinter, in whose plays he also delights to act. (shrink)

The consciousness of the hosts is a major theme in Westworld, and for good reason. Hosts are not philosophical zombies. The hosts act like they have feelings, like they suffer and fear, like they enjoy the yellow, pink, and blue tones of a beautiful sunset. This chapter examines the analogs of memory, perception, and emotion in hosts. Hosts have a very troubling relationship to memory. Although using a different visual style would denote unique host experience, using the same visual style (...) to depict both human and host experience is not a strong indicator that the hosts are conscious, or that they have similar experiences to humans. Host perception, memory, and emotions all seem different from human, but the cinematic medium does not grant us immediate access to host experience, and neither the testimony of the creators, nor the hosts is totally reliable. (shrink)

Extract from Hofstadter's revew in Bulletin of American Mathematical Society : http://www.ams.org/journals/bull/1980-02-02/S0273-0979-1980-14752-7/S0273-0979-1980-14752-7.pdf -/- "Aaron Sloman is a man who is convinced that most philosophers and many other students of mind are in dire need of being convinced that there has been a revolution in that field happening right under their noses, and that they had better quickly inform themselves. The revolution is called "Artificial Intelligence" (Al)-and Sloman attempts to impart to others the "enlighten- ment" which he clearly regrets not having (...) experienced earlier himself. Being somewhat of a convert, Sloman is a zealous campaigner for his point of view. Now a Reader in Cognitive Science at Sussex, he began his academic career in more orthodox philosophy and, by exposure to linguistics and AI, came to feel that all approaches to mind which ignore AI are missing the boat. I agree with him, and I am glad that he has written this provocative book. The tone of Sloman's book can be gotten across by this quotation (p. 5): "I am prepared to go so far as to say that within a few years, if there remain any philosophers who are not familiar with some of the main developments in artificial intelligence, it will be fair to accuse them of professional incom- petence, and that to teach courses in philosophy of mind, epistemology, aesthetics, philosophy of science, philosophy of language, ethics, metaphysics, and other main areas of philosophy, without discussing the relevant aspects of artificial intelligence will be as irresponsible as giving a degree course in physics which includes no quantum theory." -/- (The author now regrets the extreme polemical tone of the book.). (shrink)

This essay treats the growth and development of Charles S. Peirce’s three categories, particularly studying the qualities of Peirce’s Firstness, a basic formula of “airy-nothingness” (CP: 6.455) serving as fragment to Secondness and Thirdness. The categories of feeling, willing, and knowing are not separate entities but work in interaction within the three interpretants. Interpretants are triadomaniac elements through the adopted, revised, or changed habits of belief. In works of art, the first glance of Firstness arouses the spontaneous responses of (...) musement, expressing emotions without the struggle and resistance of factual Secondness, and not yet involving logical Thirdness. The essential qualities of a loose or vague word, color, or sound give the fugitive meanings in Firstness. The flavor, brush, timbre, color, point, line, tone or touch of the First qualities of an aesthetic object is too small a base to build the logic of aesthetic judgment. The genesis art is explained by Peirce’s undegeneracy growing into group and individual interpretants and building into the passages and whole forms of double and single forms of degeneracy. The survey of the flash of Firstness is exemplified in a variety of artworks in language, music, sculpture, painting, and film. This analysis is a preliminary aid to further studies of primary Firstness in the arts. (shrink)

The customary assumption about dying is that one would rather not. The event of death itself should be postponed for as long as possible, and comfort may be gained from doctrines which promise a victory over it. We celebrate those who try to cheat it. The dying Henry James thought he was Napoleon, and there is something in that, over and above the pathos of a wandering mind, that exemplifies, however parodically, the mental set we expect to find and what (...) we relish in those who attempt to press their own strong case against the disintegrative flow of time and change. We assume that one should struggle against death, setting such a stamp on life that even if the body must die, something the mind has done may not. Attitudes that run counter to this stubbornness are thought defeatist or unwholesome. In his own decline, Charles Baudelaire, catching sight of himself in a mirror, bowed, thinking himself a stranger. That confusion is more chilling than Jams’ because it undermines the treasured integrity of the self: it shows that death is not an invader attacking suddenly from outside. We are in one sense always in its keeping. In this essay I shall argue that whatever revolt against death may catalyse the act of writing poetry, poems are intimately tied to death in ways that complicate and even undermine that revolt. Indeed, since the inception of Romanticism , a poem in order to be a poem has had to engage not only with the fact that in the midst of life we are in its negation, but also with death’s analogues: madness, trance, divisions and questionings of the self. The relationship between poetry and the disruption of the customary self may even be celebratory.But before investigating the relationship between poetry and death, we had better be sure that one can indeed die:At first glance, the preoccupation of the writer who writes in order to be able to die is an affront to common sense. It would seem we can be sure of at least one event: it will come without any approach on our part, without our bestirring ourselves at all; yes, it will come. That is true, but at the same time it is not true, and indeed quite possibly it lacks truth altogether. At least it does not have the kind of truth which we feel in the world, which is the measure of our action and of our presence in the world. What makes me disappear from the world cannot finds its guarantee there; and thus, in a way, having no guarantee, it is not certain. This explains why no one is linked to death by real certitude. No one is sure of dying.1No one can think to cheat death, but to contemplate death is to introduce into thought the epitome of doubt. The one thing I can never know in advance or know demonstrably, by my very nature and by its, is the actual instant of my own death. Conventionally, “I will go when my time comes”: the phrase gestures toward the privacy of each human death, and the Protestant tone of “my time”—part predestination, part ownership—barely hides the inaccessibility of death inside that privacy. There are two certainties in life. One is that death will come. The other is that no one can be sure of this. Perhaps no one has truly died yet. 1. Maurice Blanchot, The Space of Literature, trans. Ann Smock , p. 95; all further references to this work, abbreviated SL, will be included in the text. Geoffrey Ward is lecturer in English at the University of Liverpool. He is at present completing his first critical book, The Poetry of Estrangement. His published articles include essays on symbolism in John Ashbery, Conrad’s English, metaphor in Shelley’s longer poems, the novels of Henry Green, and Wyndham Lewis. He has also published five volumes of poetry, mot recently Not the Hand Itself. (shrink)

After suggesting that religion may be defined rather generally as "positive concern," and after stipulating that the essence of worship consists in some form of "earnest dedication," Robins discusses the relationship between religion, magic, and morality. Thereafter he traces the history of Judaism and Christianity in order to cast some light on our religious inheritance. The author emphasizes the purely natural origin of religion, the questionable authenticity of the Bible, the mythological status of the God-man Jesus, and the pragmatic value (...) of believing in the Trinity. The author apparently takes the view that religion is primarily a manifestation of our deepest natural needs as well as an embodiment of our highest human aspirations, and that in the evolutionary process alteration of religious doctrines is indeed necessary if religion is to be humanly meaningful. The institutional embodiment of religious ideas is looked upon as more dangerous than necessary, given the threat of authoritarianism and the consequent loss of individuality and responsibility. In the chapter on mysticism Robins maintains that mysticism, like religion, is largely a matter of feeling; in the chapter on immortality he opts for the notion of "social immortality" in lieu of personal immortality. The book is conversational in tone, pragmatic in its final evaluation of religious experience, and is seemingly aimed at a popular audience rather than a scholarly few interested in depth, consistency, and refinement of expression.—R. A. (shrink)

The distinctive claim of the Gestalt psychologists (of Prague, Graz, Berlin, Leipzig, and Vienna) is that we are typically aware of wholes which have “Gestalt qualities”, such as being a melody, and that these qualities could not be properties of mere sums, for example of sums of tones. A common, stronger claim is that the wholes we are aware of are themselves “Gestalten”, the parts of which are inseparable from each other and from the wholes they belong to. The Gestalt (...) psychologists took themselves to be opposing associationistic and atomistic assumptions in psychology. The notion of a Gestalt is applied primarily in their accounts of perception and to a much lesser extent in their accounts of feelings (Gefühle), aesthetic and non-aesthetic, of their objects, of our awareness of the feelings of others, of our attributions of emotions, of our grasp of value and of the relations between affective phenomena and perception. (shrink)

The article introduces a cognitive and componential view of religious emotions. General emotions are claimed to consist of at least two compounds, the cognitive compound and the affective compound. Religious emotions are typically general emotions which are characterized by three specific conditions: they involve a thought of God or godlike, they are significant for a person feeling them and their meaning is derived from religious practices. The article discusses the notion of spiritual emotions in Ancient theology and compares the (...) idea of it with emotions in music. By referring to the notion of mental language, it is argued that some religious emotions are like emotions in music and as such they can be interpreted as tones of Logos. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:To Recognize the Person: Learning from Narratives of Psychiatric TreatmentLinda J. MorrisonTo know what patients endure at the hands of illness and therefore to be of clinical help requires that doctors enter the worlds of their patients, if only imaginatively, and to see and interpret these worlds from the patient’s point of view(Charon, 2006, p. 9).These narratives of psychiatric hospitalization are rich and evocative. We are fortunate to have (...) twelve descriptions appearing side-by-side, each unique in its focus, outlook, detail and narrative tone. Together their interwoven contexts describe personal and work relationships, internal and external help-seeking, encounters in community and hospital settings, and experiences of the psychiatric (psychiatrized) self as supplicant, victim, recipient, participant, product, and active agent over time (Morrison, 2005).Through their collected narratives, the authors create a distinct counterpoint to the more familiar clinical narratives of psychiatric encounters. Ordinarily the professional narrative drives interpretation of a clinical experience, whether medical or psychiatric. The caregivers populating these narratives would probably tell different stories, and the hospital notes and treatment records yet another (Hinsby & Baker, 2004; VanDerNagel et al., 2009). The disjunction between professional and patient narrative is especially true for psychiatric hospitalizations, in which the inpatient’s active narrative becomes a part of the diagnostic and treatment process (Steslow, 2010).In this symposium, the patient’s narrative is a window for interpretive insights into personal experience of the process. Each is a situated retrospective, in which added dimensions of feeling, thought and interaction provide the reader a fuller and more complex awareness of the experience of psychiatric hospitalization. The narratives provide insights about choice and agency, control and harm, safety and strength, hope and frustration, resilience and recovery, empathy and humanity; they also reveal various ethical issues related to the experience of help-seeking and treatment.It is vital to consider what each person wrote: what choices they made in representing their experience; what aspects they focused on, and what they (we imagine) left out. The authors used their own voices to create their own representations. In each narrative, “the person” provides an important standpoint. Who is this person, what is his or her experience? Where is the person in the situation; in what way does he or she appear to those who provide treatment or care? How, if at all, is the treatment pertinent to the person’s concerns? Does it feel helpful or harmful? How does the person find a way to continue, to push through, with the help of (or in spite of) those we hope are providing care? This is the first sign of agency, of choice, of “dreaming.” [End Page 35]As V. Barnard writes in Dreaming: A Recovery Story, “to make a film, one has to dream it first.” All of the authors in this symposium took the risk and the opportunity to create their own stories: what to include, what to leave out, how to tell what they wanted to say. These choices gave them the power to dream: how it was, how it might have been; how it felt, good and bad; the chance to represent their own reality—to themselves, and to unknown others (Morrison, 2006).Dreaming, Choice and Agency“My psychiatric illness is only one part of me. I am a person with hopes, dreams, love, an artist and a fellow helper of my peers.” V. BarnardV.’s narrative describes the potential for positive action, of dreaming herself as a whole into existence. Her themes of choice and agency emphasize the importance of autonomy and the capacity for autonomous action. On the farm, V. was free to choose and take risks, to take on responsibilities, to be “treated with respect as a human being trying to get better rather than a criminal suffering from something that was optional.” From disconnection, she was able to find connection, on her own terms.The support of peers adds a valuable dimension. Being recognized as a peer, a person who shares similar psychiatric experiences and respects the challenge of everyday life, brings another level to supportive relationships. Negative judgments and stigma are reduced by mutual support and acknowledgement of common goals. Mental health... (shrink)

In 1936, in a chapter of Language, Truth and Logic clearly influenced by Hume and influenced also by Ogden's and Richards's The Meaning of Meaning, Ayer claimed that judgments of value, in so far as they are not scientific statements, are not in the literal sense significant but are simply expressions of emotion which can be neither true nor false. To say ‘You acted wrongly in stealing that money’ is not to state any more than one would have stated by (...) merely saying ‘you stole that money’. To add that the action was wrong is not to make a further statement about it, but simply to evince one's moral disapproval. ‘It is as if I had said “you stole that money” in a peculiar tone of horror, or written it with the addition of some special exclamation mark. The tone or the exclamation mark adds nothing to the literal meaning of the sentence. It merely serves to show that the expression of it is attended by certain feelings of the speaker’. (shrink)

The paper focuses on Du Bos’ contribution to the birth of aesthetics. Du Bos elaborates – in an anticlassicistical tone – three central notions: 1) that of “artificial passion”, 2) of the taste of “the public” (which is in turn linked to a peculiar conception of “feeling”) and 3) of “artistic genius”. The main tenet will be that such an approach does lead to a “philosophy of fine arts” (or of “artistic beauty”), i.e. the discipline with which modern (...) aesthetics ends up identifying at the end of the xviii century. Hence the theoretical, and not just historical, interest for this author, especially when having an eye to neoaesthetics, viz. aesthetics as begotten by the crisis of the modern aesthetics around the middle of the xix century. (shrink)